Witches (32 page)

“Well, if Amanda’s really gone back in time—which I’ve never heard of, though that doesn’t mean it’s not possible—how do you suppose she got there? More to the point, what is she doing there?”

“Abigail doesn’t know but I think it has something
to do with the black witch, Rachel.
The one I’ve
told you about. Amanda said she’d lived in the seventeenth century and probably died a violent death. Unjustly executed for being a witch. The legend concerning Rachel and Black Pond, which some people call Witch’s Pond, has been around a long time. It might have something to do with that. It’s just awful strange that Amanda’s haunted and harassed by a long dead witch named Rachel from the seventeenth century who wants her for something—no one knows what—and suddenly Amanda is tangled up with this sadistic cult, and then she’s...gone.”

“You don’t accept that she could just simply be dead?” Rebecca asked.

Jessica winced. “No. For some reason I feel she’s still alive. Somewhere. In trouble. Powerless. I think she’s calling for help. Our help. Abigail feels the same way.”

Rebecca smiled faintly. “I think so, too. I’ve had glimpses...” Her voice faded away, her face closing. She fingered the silver pentagram necklace at her neck absentmindedly. “Now some of them almost make sense.”

Rebecca was silent for a while as she ate the rest of the roast beef sandwich Jessica had fixed her an hour ago, and watched her sister drink another cup of coffee before she went on.

“You also believe Amanda annihilated the members of that Satanic cult that took Jonny?”

“Abigail suspects so. Jane called again to tell me that after they rushed Jonny to the hospital and he came to, he talked about it. Said Amanda
saved
him from the cult. Sent fire bolts and incinerated every one of the hooded fiends. Ernie, she said, went out to the site and found the charred remains of six bodies, the bloody stone altar, and the knife.

“I myself have no doubt that she did it.”

“Amanda has the power, all right, to do such a thing. Never thought she had it in her, though.” Rebecca snorted, amazement, then concern changing her features. “On the other hand, I can hardly believe it of her. Amanda knows our laws better than anyone. She wouldn’t do anything wrong, much less take another life. Six lives. Even though they deserved it, after what they did to that boy, and the others. Still...” She shook her head again, a pained look in her eyes.

Even Jessica understood the ramifications of what Amanda had done and her expression was unhappy. “There wasn’t a sign anywhere of Amanda but some of the townspeople swear they saw her walk into Black Pond that last night and just
disappear.
They’ve dragged the pond—no body. No sign of her anywhere.”

“Humph.” Rebecca seemed lost in thought for a moment or two, and said, “If she really was responsible for those cultists’ deaths, she could be stripped of her own powers. That’s usually what happens. Amanda’s the strongest witch I’ve ever known, but if she had no magic left it could explain how another witch could overpower her.”

Outside, the storm whispered, the wind moaned like someone was dying. Upstairs, footsteps echoed as if one of the occupants was up and padding around for some reason. Behind them, the coffeepot grunted and hissed as it perked away.

Rebecca sighed and her fingers reached out to touch Jessica’s cold hand lying on the table between them. “I’ve listened to everything you’ve said and, I’ve got to be honest with you, Sis, it doesn’t look good. Not good at all. This is way out of my league. I’m going to need some help. Right now, I just don’t know where to go to get it. I have to think on it.”

It shocked Jessica to see there were tears glistening in her sister’s eyes. She had never seen Rebecca cry. Ever. Not over any of her bad marriages or her divorces. Not even when their mother had died.

“I imagine that Rachel somehow got to Amanda when she was vulnerable, perhaps after she, er,
had taken care of those Satanists. Then cast a spell on her. I’ve just got to discover which one, and how to break it.” She nodded her head, got up to get another piece of apple pie, and refilled her coffee cup. She sat back down with a heavy plop. Dressed all in black like she was, she looked like a huge crow.

“I’ve studied and come across a lot of ghosts and queer beings in my research, but none so powerful that they could manipulate a mortal witch from the grave. Especially a witch like Amanda. Now, that takes power. Black witchcraft of the highest level. Never seen anything like it.”

In the other room, Tituba was still whining and talking agitatedly to himself. He’d tried to sneak back into the kitchen a couple of times to put more of his two cents in, but Rebecca had lifted her finger and sent him back with a grunt of protest and a whoosh of magic.

“Maybe Tibby knows more than he’s telling,” Rebecca remarked, her tightened lips and face showing her worry.

“What are we going to do, Rebecca?” Jessica exhaled. It’d been a long couple of days since Amanda had first arrived and told her about Rachel; it’d been an even longer day since she’d talked to Rebecca about it on the phone that morning. She was exhausted and irritable, and upset because she couldn’t do anything else to save her sister.

“Well, as soon as this storm lets up, I’m flying out to Canaan and to Black Pond, work some spells, and see what I can find out. The bond with Amanda should be stronger there. The signs of what really happened easier to read. I’m not as good a witch as Amanda...but I’ll give it the best I have. I’ll seek help, if I can figure out where to get it. There are some people who can help me, if I have need of them.” At a price, she thought somberly. Always a price, especially when dealing with black magic.

“I’ll bring her back if I can.”

Jessica hadn’t forgotten the rivalry between Amanda and Rebecca. Wounds that had scarred their childhoods. The fights. The cold silences and tension. What Amanda had said about Rebecca just the last time she’d been there.

Remembering that, Jessie smiled thoughtfully at her older sister. “I’ve always thought Amanda underestimated you, Rebecca. I believe you have power, hidden abilities that you haven’t even tapped yet.”

Rebecca returned the smile with pleasure, though her eyes remained sad. Jessie thought, as she had many times before, that she was almost pretty when she smiled like that. Almost. She just didn’t do it often enough, that’s all.

“Sure. You say that because you have a soft spot for your older sister. Always have. I don’t know why. We both know that Amanda is the gifted one, the beautiful, the special one. Always. Mom loved her best. Everyone loves her best.” Rebecca’s eyes lowered, but not before Jessie caught the hurt still festering in them. After all this time. Not that Amanda had ever treated her badly. She never had. Even though Rebecca had played a lot of cruel tricks on her as they were growing up out of pure spite and jealousy. Amanda had never repaid in kind. Perhaps Rebecca was remembering that now, too.

“I feel so bad.” Rebecca’s voice was a whisper as she looked around them. “So helpless.” She pounded her curled-up fist on the table, making the coffee cups rattle.

“You’ll find a way, Rebecca. I know you will. I have faith in you. In the meantime, what can I do?”

Rebecca eyed Jessie pensively. “Nothing, right now.” Then, seeing her sister’s face fall, “I’m not going to lie to you. We’re dealing with powerful magic here, Jessica. It’s extremely perilous. Soul-losing perilous. Especially to you, a non-witch. I can’t take a chance of losing you, too, so I’m going to ask you to stay out of it for now. Let me handle it. I’m going to have to be clever and very careful. If I make a mistake, it could mean my disappearance, as well. Loss of my immortal soul.”

Jessica understood. If a larger evil was mixed up in this, the winner would take all. Satan and his legions collected souls as trophies, not just lives. There was more at stake than only living and dying. “All right. I’ll stay here and wait. Could be Amanda might try to contact us. Maybe,” she mused hopefully, “she might get out of this on her own, yet.”

Fat chance of that.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair. “Maybe, but I wonder.” She seemed suddenly far away.

“Wonder what?”

“Wherever Amanda is, as we discussed before, it’s possible that she
is
without her powers. Can’t get back.

“She can’t protect herself. If I’m correct, she’s right in the heart of witch hunting country. Smack dab in the witch-burning times.”

Both sisters looked at each other, their faces drained.

Rebecca got up first. “Right now we’d better get some sleep, Sis. I have a lot of work to do yet tonight. I need some peace and quiet—and rest. Tomorrow I’m going to need all my strength.”

Jessica inclined her head and rose, too.

“I’m frightened for her, you know?” A weak plea.

“I know,” Rebecca replied, but thought to herself that if Jessica knew what she
knew about black witchcraft—if she’d been a true witch like Amanda and herself—she’d be even more afraid.

The two sisters walked through the dark house and upstairs, arm in arm, each with their own tormenting thoughts as the snow whirled around outside on the night air and the ice-coated trees knocked softly against the frozen windowpanes. It wasn’t the kind of weather Rebecca cared much for, especially when there was so much to do. The closed airport hung over her plans like an albatross of doom, and she knew deep inside that she didn’t have much time. Not much time at all.

Not that that should matter as much as the rest of it: she hadn’t the slightest idea how she was going to find Amanda or, even if she did find her, how she was going to get her back. Didn’t know who to go to for help. Not a clue. Everything had been all bluff so far—for Jessica’s sake.

I’ll think about all that later
.
Later and tomorrow. I’ll grab a little shut-eye and after midnight, when magic whispers loudest, I’ll send out a call for help. Like an SOS beacon into the night.

I’m just hoping someone might answer.

Chapter Eleven

Amanda kneaded the bread dough leisurely, thoroughly, and every so often glanced up to make sure Lizzy wasn’t straying too far away. Then the child was at her skirts, tugging and laughing up at her like a little imp. Her round, chubby face glowing with health and happiness. Her lengthening blond hair wispily plaited down the back in a miniature replica of the braid Amanda sometimes wore.

“Mama...Mama.” The child giggled and held on tighter as Amanda tried to playfully smear flour on her cheeks.

“I am gonna get you!” Amanda laughed back and pretended to chase the girl around the table with her floury hands. Lizzy ducked and slid under the table, to peek out gleefully at her from her cave as Amanda made a great deal over looking for her.

The child was a different child than the one she’d first met. Now there was no more fright in her face when Amanda picked her up. No more distrust or melancholy. Maggie, too, had changed. For the better.

Amanda had begun to take them for long walks in the cooler evenings as the summer died, holding Lizzy’s tiny hand and Maggie’s and leading them through the woods, talking to them about particular plants they passed, and their medicinal properties. She presented Lizzy with flowers and pebbles to touch and hold in her small hands as she explained what they were and their colors. Lizzy loved the walks and so did Maggie, and often during the walks Maggie would ask for stories about Amanda’s time and friends, never tiring of hearing about them.

“Our real mother never took us for walks. Never had time for talking and sharing. She never wanted to bother with Lizzy,” Maggie had mumbled one time, and the words
or me,
unspoken, had lingered on the warm air anyway. “The way Lizzy be and all. Her blindness.” Then she’d looked ashamed for saying such a thing.

Amanda had begun to question if Lizzy was completely blind. She discovered that she was able to see shapes, at least blurred outlines.

Lizzy wanted to be with Amanda all the time. She’d even started crawling into bed with her at night and Amanda would cuddle her until she fell contentedly asleep.

The child came out from under the table, toddled into Amanda’s arms, and hugged her close. “Love Mama,” the girl cooed, as Amanda rocked her gently in her arms.

Tears rose in Amanda’s eyes at the words. The little girl really loved her.

Lizzy released her and crawled off to play with one of the cloth dolls Amanda had sewed for her. Dusting off her hands, Amanda strolled over to the door to gaze out into the woods, her thoughts turning more serious.

She’d been here in the past for over a month now. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d been Amanda Givens. Alone. Her life had changed so dramatically. She gazed fondly at Lizzy as she rocked her cloth doll with the yellow yarn hair and blue button eyes. Until Amanda had come, she’d never had a decent doll or much of anything, as far as Amanda could tell. Rags for clothes and bugs
for pets. An absent mother and little caring. Under her tender care and good cooking, both children were blooming like wild roses, Lizzy a fragile yellow rose and Maggie a blood-red rose. They’d filled out, laughed more, and worked hard to please her.

With her hands, she smoothed down the new soft gray dress she’d finished for herself the night before. A white cloth bonnet, similar to some of the caps she’d seen women wearing that first morning in town, covered her head and the prim bun she wore her hair in these days, and tied under her chin. She’d done a fine job with the dress and couldn’t wait for Joshua to see her in it.