Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Is that Mom?” I ask and immediately try to open my mind, to will myself to hear her.
“Of course, it is,” Hilda says and holds my hand in understanding. “She may not be here physically anymore, but she still lives here all the same. Still as bossy as ever, too.”
“Is the man I saw last night in the woods the same one who killed her?” The words come out in a rush.
“No,” Astrid replies immediately, then seems to listen to someone speaking in her ear. “Darling, you know that a witch is killed in Salem every year. It’s been that way for hundreds of years.”
“I know,” I whisper. “We all live in constant fear of it. Last year, it was my mother who paid that horrible price.”
“But it wasn’t the man you saw,” Hilda says. “We can’t tell you much more. Honestly, I thought all of this was nothing more than legend.”
“It’s true,” Astrid disagrees. “And it’s begun. You’re about to take the journey you’ve been training for all your life. To be successful, it will take all three of you, plus the others you bring along the way. Trust yourselves. Listen to your guides and your ancestors. They won’t lead you astray.”
“This sounds so ominous. Or like a Marvel movie.”
They both smile.
“It’s much, much better, darling one,” Hilda says. “Or, it could be the ruin of us all.”
Nera whimpers under the table.
“No pressure or anything,” I mutter.
Chapter Two
Jonas
She saw me.
It’s actually not unusual for the townspeople of Salem to see and interact with me, as I’ve gone into town often over the past three hundred and thirty years, but I went under the cloak of darkness last night. I needed a walk to gather my thoughts and try to set my mind at ease.
But my mind is never at ease.
It hasn’t been for the entirety of those three-hundred-plus years.
With that said, I don’t know why I think that taking a simple walk at night will work to soothe my soul, but I try all the same—and often.
I’ve never been spotted as I move between worlds before.
Until her.
With flaming red hair, porcelain skin lit up in the moonlight, and a green robe that billowed around her, she looked like something I might have conjured in my mind.
Something I would have wished for a hundred times over.
A wish that I knew could never come to be.
And yet, there she was, and I was pulled to her as though I knew her. As though my soul knew hers. It was a visceral reaction that left me shaken all night and well into the morning.
Is it possible that a change is coming?
I’m hesitant to let myself hope. I’d had no idea all those years ago when I assured Louisa that everything would be okay, that we’d still be caught up in the curse centuries later.
If I had known, would I have taken the same path?
It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times, and I never have a definitive answer.
Because I just don’t know how all of this will end.
It’s early in the day as I walk through Hallows End. We live under constant cloud cover, casting the village in a dreary, gray pall. I’m the only one from Hallows End to have seen the sun since 1692. The clouds occasionally part some nights so we can see the moon and stars, but even those moments are fleeting.
It frustrates me to no end that I’ve seen the changes in technology and know the people I care about work harder than they need to. We have no running water, no electricity, and no refrigeration. Those things alone would ease the burdens of this village tremendously.
But I can’t tell them about any of it.
And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. They would forget everything by the next new moon anyway.
“Brother Jonas,” Louisa says with a happy smile and a wave. She’s holding a bushel of lavender, freshly picked from her garden. “The herbs and flowers are still growing so well this autumn. I know that we all grow weary of the gloomy sky and rain, but the crops are happy.”
“’Tis been a rainy autumn to be sure,” I agree, as I always do. Goddess, how I miss her. How I wish I was able to confide in her the way I once could. “You are right. The crops will thrive with the added moisture. Your lavender is beautiful.”
“Chamomile and parsley are coming along, as well,” she says with a nod. “I’ll make some more parsley oil for you and the apothecary. The Stebbins boy had an earache two weeks past, and I would not want any infection to return.”
“I know Mrs. Stebbins will be grateful,” I reply. “Thank you, Louisa.”
I wave and smile as I pass through the village. I walk this same path every morning, making sure that nothing has changed. That everything is as it should be.