Witches (13 page)

Nothing to do but to face
it, she thought.

She stared the mailman straight in the eyes and said, just a little angrily, “No matter what you or anyone thinks, if I am a witch or not, it makes no difference, because I had nothing to do with any of what’s happened in town, Ernie. Or the murders.”
That I know of or could explain.
“It’s crazy of anyone to even think so.”

“Well, I know that
,
Amanda. I’m only saying that the townspeople don’t know that for sure, and I wouldn’t put anything past them right now.”

His face grew somber as he confessed softly, “Jake was my best friend. You’re my friend. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“What can happen to me?”

He didn’t answer her, but grumbled to himself, rocking his head, as if she didn’t have a clue.

“Just think about leaving for a while, please? Go visit that sister in Boston you’re always talking about. Until things cool down.”

Amanda sighed aloud. “I’ll think about it, Ernie. I will. Thanks for coming to tell me what happened. If you see Jane, tell her I’m sorry about her house. That I’m glad she and the kids are okay. I’ll come by to see her as soon as I can.” No need to tell Jane she had nothing to do with any of it. Jane would already know that.

“As for the townspeople, tell them for me, if you get a chance, that I had nothing to do with what’s happening. The murders or the destruction. That I don’t know why my name is cropping up in blood at the crime scenes. Tell them that.” Her voice was emotionless.

She’d been in this position before, she knew there was little hope, no matter what she did or said. People panicked when confronted with things they couldn’t understand. Sometimes they behaved like mindless animals. Snarling and tearing at whatever came in their path. Trying to get justice where there was none.

“Amanda—” Ernie began to say something else, his face troubled, but she stopped him by putting her hand up.

She stood up slowly. “Good-bye, Ernie. Thank you for coming out to warn me. I know you mean well but I’d like to be left alone now.” She firmly ushered him to the door, not wanting to hear another word.

“Good-bye, Amanda.” His confused face framed in the doorway was the last thing she saw before she closed the door and locked it.

Through the glass, she watched him trudge his way out to his old Chevy, and roar away.

She stood there, back braced against the door, a cornered animal, her mind going in circles.

She didn’t want to leave her home, yet what choice did she have? Ernie wouldn’t have scared her unless there was a good chance she could be in real danger.

They could hurt her, as in Boston all those years ago. Amanda saw herself again at twenty-two, Rebecca and Jessie married already and out of the house, hiding that night behind the door of her home as the crowd of people out front ranted at her. The cult that had arranged to kill her mother had roused her neighbors against her. They’d been afraid of her growing powers and wanted to get rid of her one way or another. She’d surprised the cult; she’d been a little too clever, a little too strong to be gotten rid of as easily as they’d thought. Instead, they’d invented bogus evidence and spread lies about her. Hurt people with their black magic and had laid it neatly at her feet for everyone to see. Not as horrible as the crimes in Canaan, but bad enough.

The mob outside her house had grown ugly, throwing
things, screaming for her blood. They’d been good
people, but misled, and she couldn’t take her frustration out on them. She’d had to use her magic and sneak out of the house, the only home she’d known, and escape into the freezing night. Never to return openly. She’d had to run away like she’d done something wrong, when she hadn’t, in the middle of her grief over her mother’s murder. Hide from her neighbors. Hide from the cult.

She had etched that night indelibly in her mind. The horror and loneliness of it. Amanda couldn’t block it out. The first time she’d been actually ashamed of being a witch. The first time she’d realized she wasn’t always the strongest in the arena of witchcraft. There were always stronger and meaner opponents. Ones that didn’t play by the rules she had to play by.

Only when she heard Amadeus meowing weakly in the other room, calling her, did she move.

She gathered the cat into her arms and carried him into the front room. His ear was still missing. Her spells hadn’t worked but the rest of him was healing nicely. Settling down in her rocking chair, she creaked back and forth, cuddling him, her mind dark as she tried to find a way out of her dilemma. Too disturbed to even witch up a fire.

Amadeus thought at her, licking her hand feebly as she petted him.

Ernie right. Bad evil coming. Very bad. Must leave.

“Amadeus, do you know who’s responsible for the murders?” she asked in a whisper.

Demons. Don’t know who sent, though. Cult probably.

“What do they want?”

You, Amanda. Your powers. Your soul.
He closed his eyes and seemed to slip away, his furry paw resting on her arm. He was still very weak.

Amanda kept rocking, her thoughts busy. She would make that visit to Jessie now. It’d been a long time since she’d seen her sister and family. She could disappear for a while until things cooled down, as Ernie had so quaintly put it, or until she could gain some insight on how to find and fight the cult that was most likely doing all this. Until she could stop them.

She also had to decide where Rachel figured in all this, if she figured in it at all. Jessie was good at listening. Good at seeing things she couldn’t see in a situation. That was one of Jessie’s gifts.

It would give her some time to think. Sort things out.

Find out why, with all her magic and powers, she still couldn’t solve the mystery of the cult, the killings, or help the townspeople. Still couldn’t
see
what was going on. She wasn’t used to being so helpless, and didn’t like it one bit. Not one bit.

Chapter Four

She didn’t give herself much time to rest after Ernie left. She might not have much time if someone or something was looking for her. Whether it was human or inhuman. She needed to get away for a while. Regroup. Come up with a battle plan.

First, she’d to check on Mabel and make sure the old woman would be all right while she was gone. Make sure she had enough food and enough special tea. Amanda wasn’t happy when she recognized the folly of using her magic not only to go to Mabel’s, but to get to her sister’s in Boston as well. If a cult—with as much power as their crimes seemed to indicate—was challenging her, using her magic to travel anywhere would leave a neon trail and maybe endanger anyone she was with at the moment they caught up with her. Amanda had been careful the last week or so, covering herself with a magic invisibility spell but she couldn’t take any chances with those she loved. Magic sometimes left prints, scents, that other witches, warlocks or demons, if they were powerful enough, could follow.

So, no more magic. For a time. Unless it was an emergency.

Amanda put on the blue jeans she’d worn yesterday and a heavy sweater under Jake’s jacket, tied her hair back in a braid, and covered her head with an old brimmed hat, then bundled together extra clothes, a basket of food for Mabel and Amadeus, and packed everything up in the wagon
behind her scooter. She set off through the woods, her breath clouding before her. Amadeus was still recovering, so she kept a light touch on the pedal and avoided the most rugged ground even though she’d placed the cat on a pile of blankets. She left him sleeping there when she went up to knock on the trailer’s door.

Mabel was ecstatic to see her and pulled her right in. Amanda found out quickly it wasn’t only the food and tea she’d brought that made her friend happy to see her, it was the company.

“There was a heck of a ruckus out in the woods last night,” Mabel divulged, a shadow of disquiet on her face. “Out by Black Pond somewheres by the sound of it.” She was heating water for the tea.

Amanda had taken her hat and jacket off, placed the covered basket on the counter and had sat down at the table. “Oh?” Inside she sensed that what Mabel had to tell her would come as no surprise.

As Mabel looked through the basket, she talked. “Yes. Most of the night. Chanting and shrieking. Strange noises as if a herd of something or other were crashing through the trees.” Mabel’s small frame shivered visibly. “Gave me the willies just listening to it. Believe you me, I had my gun out and laying in my lap. If they would have come skulking around my trailer I would have filled all their backsides with buckshot.” The old lady flashed Amanda a brave grin, showing her toothless gums. She had her dentures out again.

“They left me alone, though. Probably rowdy teenagers out making mischief at Black Pond because of its reputation. Halloween and all.”

That could be possible but Amanda didn’t believe it had been just kids. Too much had happened last night. If it had been teenagers, she prayed they were all safe at home now, instead of corpses strewn around the pond.

So, Amanda thought, her protection spell
had held. Otherwise, Mabel might have been
a statistic along with the other murder victims that morning. The idea didn’t sit too well on her conscience, under the circumstances.

“I’m going away for a while,” Amanda told her. “So I don’t have much time to chitchat. I came by to bring you that basket of food and let you know I’d be away.” She’d almost slipped and revealed where she was going but that wouldn’t be wise. It might get Mabel hurt—or worse.

“Well, dear, that’ll be good for you. A trip. It’s what you need after all these months holed up in that cabin of yours. Going to visit family?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet. I just want to get away for a bit.”

“How long you going to be gone, dear?” Mabel set a teacup before her.

Amanda mumbled. “Not sure exactly.”

“You going to tell me how you got those cuts on your face?”

Amanda touched her fingers to her cheek where the worse of the slashes were healing under an invisible cream that also toned down the redness. She’d almost forgotten them. “An accident on the scooter.” She waved her other hand negligently, telling the same fib she’d told Ernie earlier. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Don’t worry, the cuts aren’t as bad as they look.”

Mabel tossed her a questioning glance, but was smart enough not to pry any further. “Go ahead, drink your tea, you have time for a cup before you go, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Amanda drank from her cup. Without sugar, as she liked it. Gulped it down as if it were lukewarm instead of boiling.

“Oh,” Mabel said as she sipped hers, watching Amanda get up and put her jacket and hat on. “I hate to see you go so soon.”

“I’m sorry, Mabel.” Amanda produced a weak smile. There was no sense in scaring the old woman any more than she already was. “I’m just anxious to get going. I promise that as soon as I return I’ll come over for a long visit. Maybe we’ll even go into town together—I’ll borrow Jane’s car—and we’ll go shopping, catch a movie. Would you like that?”

Mabel’s expression lit up. “That would be real nice.”

Amanda was at the door when she turned around. “Mabel, I want you to promise me that you won’t leave the trailer at night for a while? It’s not safe. At your age, in the dark, I mean.”

She wasn’t fooling Mabel. “And all the murders. I know. I listened to the news this morning. Don’t you worry about me, though, I can take care of myself. I haven’t lived to this ripe old age by doing dumb things. Nothing will get me out of this trailer at night.”

“Good.” Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Have a nice trip, and thanks for the food, Amanda.”

“You’re welcome. Bye.” Amanda was out the door before Mabel could even wave.

She debated whether to strengthen the protection spell on Mabel and the trailer as she climbed on the scooter. It would give her whereabouts away if anyone was looking for her. A calculated gamble, but one worth taking. She doubled the spell and rode away, fairly certain that Mabel would be safe.

Amadeus was still in a deep sleep. Still healing. Even the bumps didn’t wake him. The day was colder than any before and as Amanda maneuvered through the trees and hanging mist, hearing the dried leaves crunching under her tires, she knew winter had finally arrived.

It was no day for a scooter ride. The air froze her face, brought tears to her eyes. It was hard not being able to use her magic to keep herself warm or to get quickly to where she wanted to go. Never know how much you depend on something until you can’t use it,
she thought.

Boston was at least eight hours away. Riding the Passport to the bus station in Shelby—about an hour from where she was—was the best way of losing anyone on her tail she could think of. Catching the bus out of town was just being careful.

Amanda guided the motorbike to the nearest road and bounced along as fast as she could risk without bumping Amadeus to death, though once or twice she heard a muffled squawk out of him when she hit a rut. She took mostly back roads, and some highways, not stopping until she’d arrived at the bus station. She hid her scooter in a patch of woods behind the parking lot, pulled an animal traveling cage out from the back of the wagon, and gently put the sleeping Amadeus in it, wrapped in a blanket, then lugged the cage and her suitcase up to the bus depot. There, she bought a ticket for Boston, called her sister Jessie to let her know she was coming, and got on the bus. She kept her hat tilted low over her lacerated face so no one would ask her any questions, though she could feel the ointment rapidly mending the cuts; by tomorrow, the worst of them would be gone.