26. Burn The Witch

Chapter 26

Burn The Witch

T he town center came alive with activity as the sun set in the western sky. Shops closed up for the evening. Antonio’s Italian Ristorante received dinner guests. The local pub welcomed new visitors. A handful of pedestrians were out for a walk on the lovely spring evening. Brilliant shades of purples, yellows, and oranges painted the sky. The scene was picturesque. Peaceful. A far cry from what transpired in the black SUV that exited the town.

Alice drove her SUV past the trail entrance of Wildgrove Park. She glanced over to her passenger. Johanna sat motionless. Her eyes focused on Alice’s every move, while holding the twisted wand in her right hand. It pointed at Alice’s side.

“Don’t think about trying anything,” Johanna said. “Keep your eyes forward. Both hands on the wheel.”

Alice did as she was commanded. Her hands gripped the steering wheel in the top corners. Her eyes focused forward. “Where am I going?”

“There is a service road up the street. Turn into it. Nice and slow,” Johanna said, her voice calm and steady .

They left the town of Newbury Grove behind. Alice drove down the road—woods to her right, farm fields on her left. A dirt path, barely wide enough for a vehicle, came into view.

“Turn there,” Johanna instructed.

Alice slowed the SUV. She released her grip on the wheel, sliding her hands into new positions in preparation to make the turn. She glanced over toward Johanna. Her eyes never wavered from Alice. She pressed the brake, slowing the vehicle. Each finger wrapped around the molded vinyl wheel.

As the last finger tightened its grip, Alice made a sharp turn and accelerated the SUV. It jerked forward as it headed toward a tree. Alice’s body slammed against the driver side door. She turned to see if Johanna was caught off guard, but a bolt from the wand struck her side. Every muscle convulsed at once as the pain overtook her.

“Stop the car!” Johanna yelled. Another black bolt shot out from the wand and struck Alice. “Stop the car now!”

Alice stomped on the brakes. The SUV jostled the occupants as it came to a full stop. Alice lurched forward and then slammed back against her seat.

“I can make this as painful for you as possible if you don’t do as I say.” Johanna’s face was furious; her eyebrows were hunched. Fire burned in her eyes. “Do you understand me?”

Alice nodded.

Johanna raised the wand, pointing it at Alice’s head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

Alice turned her gaze toward Johanna. The tip of the wand was mere inches from her eyes. Alice cleared her throat. Johanna’s face wore a condescending expression, waiting for an answer she already knew.

“I understand,” Alice replied in a low voice.

“Now that we understand each other, drive on. We can’t be late.” Johanna motioned down the road with her head.

A shadowy tunnel of barren trees lined the path. Their branches swayed in the breeze as they beckoned the pair to proceed further into the darkness. The SUV rolled forward and disappeared into the woods. Alice carefully navigated down the service road. The dirt path carved a winding procession to their final destination. They stopped at the end of the path; trees blocked any further progress deeper into the forest.

“Turn it off and open the door,” Johanna commanded. “Slowly.”

Alice did as instructed and gripped the handle to open the door.

“Slowly,” Johanna reiterated.

The door creaked as Alice exited the vehicle. Johanna sprung out of the passenger side and shuffled around the front. She kept her ever-watchful eyes and wand trained on Alice’s every movement.

Alice gave a quick glance around. There was no movement. She listened for any signs of life. She only heard the sound of the branches swaying in the breeze like the cackling of laughter at what awaited further in the woods.

“Walk,” Johanna ordered. “We’re late. Walk!”

Alice proceeded past the first line of trees. Their smaller tree trunks swayed in the breeze as if they were giddy with glee. Alice grabbed one to balance herself on the rugged terrain. She took a few more steps and then spun around.

She tried to produce arcane bolts of energy, but was met with that far too familiar searing pain as another black bolt hit her. Another and then another. She fell to her knees. Her body hunched over to deal with the pain.

Johanna approached her. She placed the tip of the wand under Alice’s chin, lifting it so they met eye to eye.

Tears of pain welled in Alice’s eyes. A helpless expression. “Why are you doing this?”

Johanna stood over her with the wand inches from Alice’s face. “What I’m doing is showing you mercy. The same mercy afforded to me years ago. Now get up. Slowly.”

Johanna backed away as Alice rose to her feet. Tears rolled down Alice’s face .

“A few more feet. We need a good view of the sunset,” Johanna said.

Alice was in visible agony from the lingering effects of the wand. She held her side where she had been hit and searched around, as if hoping for help to arrive. Any help. But there was nothing. It was only her, Johanna, and the cackling trees.

Johanna focused on the setting sun. The deeper shades of orange and red filled the sky.

“This will do,” Johanna said. “Put your back to that tree.”

Alice did as she was told.

Johanna produced a rope from her bag. She tied it around Alice’s body multiple times. The rope constricted Alice’s chest with each pass, binding her closer to the trunk of the tree. Johanna tied the ropes as tightly as she could. She then produced a smaller length of rope and bound Alice’s hands together. She marched around to face Alice.

“What is this?” Alice asked. “Some sort of ritual sacrifice?” Those words brought back memories of her and Hugo many months ago when he had first learned to ride Galahad.

“You could say that,” Johanna said as she dug into her bag.

Alice’s eyes widened as the gold disk emerged. The yellow jewel surrounded by eight orange gems. Her face went blank and pale.

Johanna smiled. “Oh! You know what this is, don’t you?”

“I… I thought it was a legend,” Alice replied.

“Oh, it’s real. Very real,” Johanna said. “It has caused more destruction, pain, and misery than you will ever know.”

Johanna approached Alice like a stalking predator savoring every step. Her smile grew wider as she drew closer. The fear grew on Alice’s face. Johanna tried to place the amulet of witch’s fire over Alice’s head. Alice struggled, moving her head back and forth. She buried the back of her head into the tree so Johanna could not put it on.

Johanna jabbed her with the wand. Alice screamed in agony as her head lurched forward. Johanna slipped the gold chain over Alice’s purple hair. The amulet dangled around her neck.

Alice sobbed. “Please. Please don’t do this.” Her tears rolled down her face and fell at her feet. “Why are you doing this?”

“Oh, I’ve been where you’re standing. I know that fear. The frightening helplessness as people condemn you to die a gruesome, painful death you didn’t deserve. And it is painful.”

Johanna pointed toward the amulet with the wand. Alice glanced down before returning to Johanna.

Johanna continued, “I’ve lived more lifetimes than anyone should. I’ve lost more loved ones than you will ever know. I’ve felt more pain than humanly possible all because a witch bound me to the fate of that amulet. It was because of a witch like you that I was condemned to this lifetime of pain, torment, and suffering. I’ve made it my vow to never forget. Never forgive.”

A darkness fell over the cabin. The late afternoon sun was now obscured by the engulfing trees. Smoke rose from the diminutive stone chimney, and a light flickered in the window. It seemed peaceful. Quiet. Unassuming. A hooded figured emerged from the shadows of the trees. Footsteps crushed the wet grass as the evening dew set in. The figure never broke stride as it approached the cabin.

Johanna pulled back the hood of her cloak as she stopped in front of the door. She stood for a moment to prepare herself for what was to come. She lingered on the door in front of her. A thin layer of moss had overtaken the wood. The brief thought of turning and running away entered her mind. She hesitated, but the anger of the past drove her forward. Johanna knocked three times.

“Who is it?” a once familiar voice said from inside.

“It’s Johanna Newes. May I come in?”

The voice replied without hesitation, “Yes. Yes. Please enter.”

Johanna lifted a latch and swung open the door. The cabin was small. It had been many years since Johanna first set foot in here, but it remained largely unchanged. The room smelled of musty dirt. The cabin was illuminated by a set of candles that floated in the air. Plants and cutting tools covered the very same table which had held her lifeless body. Shelves held jars and other assorted bottles. A fire smoldered in the hearth below a black cauldron.

An elderly woman sat in front of the fire within the confines of an armed chair. Time had not been pleasant to Willow the witch. Her fingers withered and gnarled with age. A cane rested to one side. She wore a shawl to warm her frail body. Her skin was even more weathered and wrinkled than when Johanna last saw her. Her hair was thinned and short to remove the tangled mess that had once adorned her head. She smiled at her visitor.

“Come closer, my dear,” Willow said. Johanna approached, looking over the room to make sure they were alone. “It’s been so long since I last saw you. You haven’t aged a day.”

Johanna’s youthful appearance betrayed her true age. It had been over thirty years since that fateful day. Thirty years since she was condemned for practicing witchcraft. Thirty years since she was sentenced to hell for a crime she never committed.

“I need your help.”

“I can try the best I can, but my bones are tired and weary. Magick becomes more difficult for me.”

“I need you to fix me.”

Willow closed her eyes and slumped in her chair. “That’s something I cannot do.”

Tears welled in Johanna’s eyes. A fierce anger smoldered and wanted to erupt from deep within her soul. “Why not? I… I need your help. You’re the only one who can fix me.”

“The only way to save you was to tie you to that amulet. Your father knew that, but still insisted I bring you back.”

“You lie!”

She pointed to the very spot Josiah had stood years ago. “He was right there. He looked me in the eye and begged me to bring you back because you were all he had left. There was a pain in his eyes. How could I say no?”

Johanna clenched her fists and buried her mouth behind them to hide the gnashing of her teeth. “You lie. You can fix me.”

“I cannot.”

“Do you know what I go through? How people question why I don’t age? Why I can’t answer them? Why I have to move to avoid questions before they condemn me yet again for being the horrific abomination that you are?”

“I’m so sorry. I truly am, but there is nothing I can do.”

“You lie. This was your dark magic. You can fix me, but you choose not to.”

“My dear, I can’t. I don’t have the knowledge or the spell to undo it. You are tied to that amulet. As long as it exists, you will remain frozen in time. I told that to him, and yet, he still wanted you to live. It will only end when that amulet is destroyed. A task I don’t envy.”

Tears flowed down Johanna’s face. The thought that she was forever trapped to the very thing that turned her into this monstrous creation ripped apart her soul. The inner fire erupted in a barbaric, soul splitting scream.

“I’m sorry. There is nothing I can do.”

Those words didn’t ease Johanna’s pain. Nothing would—nothing short of untethering herself from that amulet. Her pain must be shared. The person who condemned her to this fate must suffer. Like the monster who placed the amulet around her neck had suffered.

Johanna withdrew the anti-magick wand from her pocket. Johanna smiled through her tears as Willow’s eyes grew wide with fright at the sight of the twisting wand.

“If I have to suffer, so will every witch or sorcerer or anyone who utters a word of magic.” She pointed the wand at Willow, and a black bolt flew across the room.

It struck her on the side, knocking her from the chair. Her frail body slammed into the wood floor. Willow let out an agonizing scream. She tried to lift herself up, but couldn’t. Her joints were too frail from old age to lift her vulnerable body off the ground. Johanna aimed the wand once more and struck her with another bolt of anti-magick. She repeated it, again and again, until Willow’s body lay lifeless on the cabin floor.

“I’ve lived for over three hundred years. I’ve watched too many friends and loved ones die. Do you know how many people I’ve buried? How many people I’ve forgotten? I move every few years because people get curious when you don’t age. They ask questions. Questions I cannot answer. I am alone. An eternal life alone is hell. I’m in constant suffering!” Johanna yelled. A cathartic release of tears flowed down her face.

“Johanna, I can heal you. You’ll no longer be tied to this amulet. I promise. You… You won’t be alone any longer. You’ll be free to live life as who you want to be,” Alice begged.

“I know the real cost of healing. I was condemned to this life of pain and suffering by a witch who tried to heal me once. What makes you think I want a witch to heal me again?”

“It’ll be different this time. I can help you heal those wounds. Please, we can do it together.”

“I came here thinking I was done with witches. I thought I found peace. Elizabeth’s kindness and warmth helped to make me whole again. I loved her more than anyone since…” Johanna’s voice trailed off. “I had to watch her die like everyone else. I don’t want to forget her like the others. I can’t forget her.”

“I’m so sorry, Johanna,” Alice offered. “She meant so much to so many people. I only wish I could have been there to help her.”

“One day I looked out, and there’s a purple house across the street. Then I found out you tried to replace the only friend I had left. You stole her husband. You stole her life. She was the only remaining thing I cared about in this world, and you tried to erase her,” Johanna cried. Her nostrils flared, eyebrows crinkled, and her eyes glared. “I won’t let him forget her, replace her with you .”

“I’m not replacing her. He knows this,” Alice pleaded. “I never tried to replace her. I tried to live up to her. Please, I can help you.” Her voice caught in her throat.

Johanna stood silent. She moved behind Alice to get a better view of the setting sun. Alice struggled against the restraints. She tried snapping her fingers, but failed to produce anything. The wand had dampened her powers. The ropes pulled tighter against her chest and wrists as she squirmed. The sun descended, and the sky turned darker shades of oranges and reds.