The scene finally changed, which was disorienting. Wicked Brew moved as if it were a treadmill that Thomas and Kaitlynn were walking on, the coffee shop chatter fading into the distance while the magical camera stayed fixed on the subjects as they stepped onto Main Street.
Juno’s eyebrows raised as we watched Kaitlynn offer her hand to Thomas. They remained in place in the center of the circle, the background of Dewdrop rolling away as they walked. Upon reaching the gallows, Kaitlynn screeched and hid her face in Thomas’s shoulder, but it was an exaggerated fear she used to get closer to him. His hand rested on the small of her back as they looked up at the grisly platform, speculating.
Brian circled around the gallows, looking for ethereal evidence with Wesley hovering over his shoulder. The temperature around us dropped sharply, sending a chill up my spine that urged me to turn around.
I was standing face to face with a witch in her nightgown, her bare feet leaving footprints in snow that only fell around her. Face to face wasn’t exactly accurate, face to faces would be a more apt description, as the woman’s features were muddled and constantly changing.
Brian rushed over as soon as he saw her, looking to me for an explanation that I didn’t have. “Why can’t we see her?”
The gossip of the witches around us faded away as they began speculating why the one person we needed to see most was unclear. Was it a spell she’d used to conceal herself? Perhaps Thomas didn’t get a good look at her. The ritual did rely heavily on his recollection, but not exclusively. It was doubtful that he could have remembered every detail of the coffee shop so clearly.
“Kaitlynn.” Thomas’s voice suddenly had an edge to it. “Quit messing around.”
But she wasn’t tricking him. It was a spell or a hex. The girl stood unnaturally still, head bowed and eyes closed with her arms straight at her side. She was breathing in and out faintly tinted blue air and I flashed back on the strange navy aura I’d seen hovering around her at Hettymoot. Thomas shook her by the shoulders, drawing back in disbelief as it affected her about as much as it would have moved a statue.
Brian stood beside Kaitlynn, examining her closely. “No wonder she didn’t remember anything from that night.”
“You catch on quick,” Wesley said.
The captain glared at him, moving back over to the mysterious witch with the concealed face. A gnarled wand was clenched in her similarly weathered old hand. Her nightdress was made of flannel with a small floral print and her toenails needed to be cut.
The crowd gasped as they watched her lift her wand and point it at Thomas, who staggered backwards for a moment before placing himself between her and the immobile Kaitlynn. Who said chivalry is dead?
“What are you doing to her?” he cried out.
She answered him with a bitter cackle. A rope appeared, snaking through the air behind her. “I’m doing you a favor, boy. Pixies wouldn’t be so quick.”
Her voice was unnatural, as if it were layered with others to conceal her identity. This was definitely intentional, and I heard Isla and others theorizing in the background about a way to counter the illusion. I didn’t tell them, but we didn’t need to.
I already knew who it was and my heart sank into a pit in my stomach. Motive and opportunity, just like Brian said. Emphasis on the opportunity. It was so obvious. How had I missed it?
The floating rope looped around Thomas’s neck, neatly tying itself into a noose. With a flick of her wand, it jerked straight up into the air, taking Thomas along with the sickening snap of his neck breaking. Juno screamed and covered her face as Brian gave into his protect and serve instinct and made a swipe at the boy to save him.
Pixies indeed would have been a worse way to go. The only problem was, Thomas had no better chance of being attacked by them or any other magical danger than a normal human. He was dead well before he was swinging on the gallows.
The murderous witch didn’t give her prey a second glance as she padded over to Kaitlynn. “I should let you remember, but that wouldn’t do me any good. Don’t come back here.”
She waved her wand in front of the girl’s face. Kaitlynn groaned as if she was having a nightmare, her eyes fluttering but remained closed. The witch blasted her down the street and she awoke sitting on the curb. The two were now at opposite ends of the casting circle with Thomas hanging in between, unnoticed. Kaitlynn shook her head, pulling out her phone as she walked back toward the town square, disappearing as she left the circle.
The apparition of the murderer faded into the mist, taking the entire scene with her. Except for Thomas. His spirit remained, now standing and appropriately see-through.
“So that’s why you haven’t been talking to me,” he said to Juno.
“I’m so sorry,” she replied tearfully.
“It’s alright.” He gave her a grin. “Well, not really. I guess being dead rules out ‘alright.’ This kind of sucks.”
“Yeah.”
“You and Alicia were right. Magic does exist.”
“I really didn’t think it… I mean, seeing ghosts is one thing. Casting spells, though? Tommy, I’m so—”
“It’s not your fault,” he told her. “It was that mean old witch.” He turned to Brian. “Are you going to find her?”
“I will.”
“Good.” With a sigh, he looked at Juno. “Tell Kyle and Alicia… Well, don’t tell them anything. It will just make it worse. See you around, June Bug.”
He faded away with a sad smile that would haunt me. The witches around us let go of each other’s hands, murmuring speculations. Some of them had the wisdom to comfort Juno when she asked if he’d been banished or went somewhere else. The Earth witches had given up. Thomas was on the other side, for now at least.
All I could think about was what I knew. I didn’t want it to be true, didn’t want to tell everyone. The captain saw right through my silence though, leaning close and asking. We agreed to leave it until the morning. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter 21
Without a word, I left the circle before anyone else, grateful that I had bought a Subaru because I had to drive through the thicket to get around the other witches’ cars. I couldn’t deal with their questions, couldn’t bear to give Juno a ride back to the Inn. Surely they were teleporting everyone back the way they’d brought them all in, and my family could catch a ride back with Wesley.
Bliss barked frantically after I’d extricated myself and was pulling away, right in time. I let her in, of course, muddy paws and all.
Despite my best efforts, I started crying on the way home. There was no way I was wearing that white dress tomorrow. No freaking way. Tradition was somebody else’s problem. Namely Dot, by default. Hopefully forever, but I couldn’t do that to her.
I was looking forward to having the entire property to myself, even if only for twenty minutes before the clan followed me home. Unfortunately, Not-So-Secret Agent Man was sitting on my porch. Great.
“What do you want?” I snapped, surprising even myself with my tone. Gavin stood there speechless for a moment as Bliss whined and ducked her head. “What!”
“I left something in your barn,” he blurted out.
“You tried to frame me for murder,” I corrected him with a glare. “It didn’t work.”
“I didn’t…” Gavin ran his hand through his hair. “That’s not what happened.”
“That’s what it looked like.”
“I’m aware that’s what it looked like. Doesn’t mean that’s what happened.”
“You’re right about that,” I laughed.
He cringed. “Tell me you didn’t destroy it.”
“Well, I didn’t…”
“Oh, my God,” he sighed.
“Goddess,” I corrected him. “You’re on the murdering feminist pagan cult’s property, remember?”
“I never said that to you.”
“You still said it.”
“Well, yeah,” Gavin confessed. “But how did you know?”
> “You said it to Brian.”
His face was confused for a moment. “Do you mean Captain Kavanagh?”
“We’re on a first name basis.” I stomped past him up the stairs. “He also knows about the rope you stole from the evidence locker.”
“You told him?”
I spun around before opening my door. “And what choice did I have?”
“You could have called me.”
The nerve of this guy! “Called you? Why would I do that? How would I do that?”
“I thought you were a psychic.”
“Well, I’m not.” Stepping over the threshold, I turned to face him. “And I’m not a murderer, either.” I slammed the door in his face, grateful that he didn’t try to push his way inside.
“I never thought you were, Gemma,” he said through the door as I leaned with my back against it.
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“It was an accident. I wasn’t planting anything on you. Not intentionally. Why do you think I came here?”
“Probably to antagonize me.” I couldn’t believe he had the gall to call it an accident.
“I… You surprised me. Distracted me. I was checking it against all the ropes you had in the barn and I left it behind.”
“Well, if it wasn’t consumed in the spell, Brian probably has it now.”
“Consumed in a spell?”
“Maybe he’ll want to avoid the paperwork and sneak it back in for you.” I felt a little guilty bringing up paperwork avoidance, remembering the baby faced cop from the haunt I’d seen earlier. With a deep breath, I opened the door to see him retreating down the stairs. “Was it really an accident?”
Gavin stopped in his tracks, turning around. “I’ve never framed anyone for murder. I’d like to think I’d be better at it if I tried.”
I shook my head, biting back tears. “Well, you were right. The killer was a witch.”
His lips parted in surprise. “It was a…”
“This time, it was a witch. A Dewdrop witch. But you are wrong about everything else. Everything.” I leaned down to look him square in the eye. “When my brother drops dead, and he will, I don’t want you knocking on my door. I’ll have enough to deal with. Leave it to the captain that actually took the time to get to know us.”
“Gemma, I can—”
My eyes narrowed, cutting him off. “You can what?”
“Maybe I can help.”
“No, you can’t. You’d think you’d have figured that part out by now.” I slammed the door again. Boy was that satisfying.
“So you’re just going to give up?”
“Get out of here before my aunt turns you into a toad.”
“I’m not— Wait, can she really do that?”
“Stick around and find out.”
He let out I sigh I could barely hear through the door between us. “Sorry about all this, Gemma. I’ll see you around.”
********
The sun rose as it always did that morning, but the hyacinth didn’t rise with it. I awoke to hear my Aunt Clea’s voice outside the window, explaining the unprecedented situation to Faustine. Dot was next to the river taking pictures to send to the rival shops for proof.
I’d be walking into town anyway. I could have driven, but I needed the fresh air to clear my head. Who would have thought I’d have much preferred to wear the white dress like it was any other normal morning?
Brian texted me as soon as he’d arrived, but I could already see the swirling blue lights of his cruiser and the two he’d brought along for back up. My brother and aunts drove up behind me as I approached her house, but kept their distance. So did the rest of the witches meandering around the gallows and in the road in a part of town so rarely visited. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d recognized the killer last night. Juno was there, along with a skeptical Kyle and Alicia.
The scent of her hand rolled, home grown cigarette hit my nose as I ran my hand along the ornate iron fence. The flowers lining her sidewalk had withered and died, her grass dull and brown. There was a strand of dark red leather with a burlap spell bag around her neck. Who knew what magic she’d use to complicate things?
“I knew you’d figure it out,” Priscilla said calmly, taking a drag. “As soon as you found those cards and Hetty gave you her blessing, I knew.”
I didn’t have anything to say. Technically, Brian needed a confession to arrest her and I’d agreed to help, but I was at a total loss for words.
“She must be over a hundred,” one of the deputies whispered to the captain.
“116,” Priscilla shouted back at him.
“Is she serious?” another deputy asked. “How could she have even got him up there?”
“Pulleys and levers, Miller,” the captain explained. It was a good enough cover story, I guess.
“Are you sure, Captain? Pulleys and levers?”
“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”
“Alright… But do we have the evidence?”
Brian looked to me. There might be a length of rope on Priscilla’s property that matched up with the one that strangled Thomas, but even that would be stretching it.
Priscilla snorted out a laugh, snuffing out her cigarette. “Pulleys, levers, and tenacity.” She flashed the young deputy a maniacal grin as she stepped off her porch. “Age is just a number. You remember that.”
“Did that count as a confession?”
“She’s probably senile,” another officer asked. “Are you sure someone more, err, able bodied doesn’t live with her that she’s covering for?”
“Don’t you bother my granddaughters.” Three of them lived behind her. “They had nothing to do with it,” Priscilla said. “It’s just me in the house. Even an alley cat couldn’t stand living with me. That’s what happens when you get old. People forget about you. The whole world changes, but you stay right where you are.”
“Why did you kill him, Priscilla?” I asked, my shaking voice barely audible.
“It’s a funny thing, getting old,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard me. “You stop caring about some things and others that you never gave a second thought start to drive you mad. Forty years ago, if those tourists had shown up and that coffee shop had stayed open late, I wouldn’t have even looked out my window. I suppose they would have been playing the guitar or piano back then, though, not those beeps and thumps that pass for music nowadays.”
“So you were annoyed by the noise?”
“I was infuriated by the noise. And I did look out my window. You know what I saw?”
“Two kids holding hands, taking a walk?”
Priscilla shook her head and scoffed. “Change. That’s what I saw, Gemma. And I’d had enough of that.”
“So you killed him?” I asked with a hint of disgust.
“I did. I thought I was doing him a favor, making it quick. I thought I was doing us all a favor, chasing them away. But change…” Priscilla chuckled quietly. “That’s the only thing you can count on.”
The old woman looked over my shoulder. I turned to see Eliza standing across the street with her arms crossed. The Eldest’s Eldest nodded at her and my stomach turned.
“Nothing will ever be the same, Gemma.” Priscilla’s quivering hands pulled out her wand. Then she gave me a kind smile and a mischievous wink. “Except that dress.”
“Don’t!” I cried.
“Drop it!” Brian had already drawn his weapon, though I doubt he had it in him to gun down the old woman, especially with his deputies yelling at him that it was only a stick. Gavin emerged from the crowd, pushing his way closer to get a better look as he shouted to the officers to be careful.
Priscilla’s wand glowed red before it was engulfed by black flames and the spell bag against her chest started to smoke. Her granddaughter Ruby ran around the side of the house to check on the commotion just in time to see a ring of fire surround the old witch as her eyes fluttered closed. It was a sunny morning, but dark clouds appeared out of
nowhere and the air turned pungent and bitter.
She took a deep breath and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Piaculum.”
It was the Latin word for atonement and sacrifice. She didn’t scream as the fire consumed her, didn’t move a muscle. No one knew if the spell was painful, but if her intentions were true, the act of penance would allow her spirit to move into the next world without the full weight of her deadly sins.
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