“Look,” Rebecca said, pointing up.
Lit torches soared through the open upper windows. Four in all. They missed the hay stacks and landed harmlessly on the floor.
Emily had to laugh. “If they want a fire, then a fire they shall surely see.”
Rebecca ran in a circle, ever-tightening the radius, and a small flame appeared in the middle. She stopped and raised her hands. Four plumes of fire rose together, then spread out to the corners of the barn.
The villagers were again ramming the doors. The sense of urgency returned. Many of her followers died a violent and gruesome death tonight. The others were frantic for a cat. A mass panic would doom them all. Time for Emily to regain control.
“Rebecca, Annie,” Emily beckoned. “To the cats. Make haste.”
Emily took a deep breath and accepted the inevitable. This had been their emergency exit plan, a last ditch effort when all else failed. To escape certain death, they would forever leave their physical human bodies. Their souls would live on in a new body, inhabiting the young cats in their first of their nine lives.
There would be no magic that would allow them to undo what happened next.
Scarlett pulled the blanket off the remaining boxes. “We still have two crates.”
The rest of the women closed in, fighting for position. They elbowed each other. Some pushed and shoved. A few punches were thrown. More yelling erupted. Angel and Esther tried to keep them back so Scarlett could bring the cats out.
“Quiet,” Emily said as she plowed her way to the front and stood next to Scarlett. “We can’t have these last cats run off.”
Scarlett took the lids off and gently tipped the boxes over. Emily helped her coax the terrified six-month old felines out. A huddled group of young cats sat looking up, meowing.
Rebecca nudged her way between Emily and Annie and counted the women, then the cats. “There are twenty-three of us and only seventeen cats,” she said stoically. “There’s not enough to go around.”
Emily knew would happen next. There was a brief moment of silence as her group assessed their situation, then they turned on each other. The competition to inhabit a cat would be fierce.
The barn was ablaze. The horses and cows were panicked. The villagers continued shouting and cursing. The doors burst open and the mob poured in, stumbling over and piling on top of each other.
Emily had prepared for this feat. It was tricky, and deadly if one got it wrong. She closed her eyes, exhaled the air in her lungs, and left her body. Her five foot three inch mass of flesh and bones thumped to the floor. She was half way into a cat when two icy grips pulled her back.
“I’m wise to you, deceiver. I’m not easily distracted like the rest,” said one of her followers who had also left her body.
Mary Davenport. The only thing she had in common with this rival, outside of their extraordinary abilities, was they abhorred each other. Emily despised the woman who continually undermined and tried to usurp her authority as leader.
A brief fight ensued. Emily was prepared for an eventual attack from Mary, and cast a jinx that covered her eyes with scales. Then she spun loose as her attacker tried to tear off the crusty covering. Emily took advantage of the confusion in the barn and entered the first kitten’s body she saw.
The cat hacked out a fur ball in which its own soul was forced out. Emily shoved her head into the feline’s skull and thrust her arms and legs into the furry limbs. She inhaled and, with a four limbed yank and mighty exhalation, thrust her torso in. She was now fully in charge of the cat’s body.
The transition, aside from the altercation with Mary, was smooth and took less than fifteen seconds. Emily wiggled her four paws to make sure her arms and legs were properly fitted and squeezed her eyelids shut a few times, then peered out through the cat’s eyes as her focus became clear.
There was a mad scramble as the witches left their physical bodies and competed for a feline host. Their bodies dropped to the floor one after the other, mouths wide open, the only openings for their soul to leave. Standing at the barn doors the villagers stood silent, staring at the macabre sight.
Fire and smoke from the four corners of the barn spread across roof. The women fought against each other to enter a host. Rebecca Smyth battled Samantha Coleman, an arrogant witch who, like Mary Davenport, challenged Emily’s leadership. Emily was overjoyed to see her best friend triumph and find a cat to call her new home.
Trapped between the blazing fires from above and the townspeople blocking the doors, she saw three of her closest friends still standing. They had failed to separate from their bodies. Emily cried out with a mental warning to try again, but her voice was drowned in the mob’s shouts. She was powerless to help. The townspeople cut them down within seconds.
Emily looked back and forth across the barn. In front of her, so many things were happening at the same time. Panic erupted among her sisters as they adjusted to their new feline bodies. Many stumbled over each other as they tried their new legs. Villagers were shouting. Up above, the four smaller fires Rebecca started had united into one major inferno.
Three women who did perform the arduous separation were not able to possess a cat. The seventeen feline hosts were quickly filled. Emily could only watch as the lost souls, including Mary and Samantha, floated aimlessly into the dark cold of the Netherworld. They screamed and cursed all those who had made the successful transition. But their main focus was aimed at her.
“Emily Livingston, I declare you will never find peace,” Mary Davenport shouted. “I witnessed your sister Sarah cut down like a mangy dog as she saved your worthless life. May her death haunt your sleep for eternity.”
The cats huddled, scared and confused.
“We can’t escape,” Scarlett shouted. “The village idiots are blocking the door.”
Another cried out. “We’re going to die in this horrible fire. Thanks, Rebecca. And yes, I’m mocking you.”
Emily needed to lead her surviving flock to safety. Time to create a distraction. She had to move the rabble from blocking their only exit. Behind her the horses and cows trapped in their stalls were desperate to escape.
That’s it.
The livestock could forge a path through the riotous mob.
“Everyone, be ready to make a run for it. Wait for my command.”
Emily focused on the stall doors. With a simple wave of her paw the gates swung open, and the beasts of burden rushed out. They cleared a swath through the bewildered and frightened horde, now scattering. Some of the villagers were too slow and were trampled in the frenzied rush. Thomas Fitzgerald followed naked and still rambling indiscernible nonsense.
Emily gave the order. “Get out now. Be quick. Let your flight of feet carry you.”
Emily and sixteen cats with their human hosts, along with rats and other vermin of the barn, followed the stampeding livestock.
One of the townsfolk shouted out. “The witches, they are not dead. This is truly a trick. They must be in the cats. Kill them.”
Her sisters sprinted forward, dodging pitchforks, clubs, and stomping feet. Emily’s duty was to make sure the rest of her followers had a chance of escape. Frustrated and terrified, she could only watch while four cats were cut down before she had a chance to do anything more to help. Her sisters’ souls were forced out and joined Mary and Samantha, screaming and floating off into the Netherworld wasteland.
Emily was the last to leave the barn. Once again, she pumped her legs hard, her lungs pushing out the cold night air faster than she could suck it in. She was amazed to see the trees straight ahead, thinking it was a miracle she escaped. Less than twenty yards ahead, twelve cats disappeared into the bushes forming the border of the surrounding forest.
Emily felt a great sense of relief as the trees added welcomed protection from the incoming hatchets and full-caliber balls fired from muskets. The villagers were in pursuit, but fell back as the cats maneuvered through the thick timberland and climbed the sloping hillside. They ra
n through the underbrush and moved forward with ease, while their pursuers lagged behind, failing to make efficient progress through the dense forest and foliage.
Once in the safety of the woods, Emily stopped halfway up the ridge. In front of her lay a tangled mass of fallen trees and branches. This would give cover and protection until they could find better, more permanent shelter.
Behind her, Emily could hear the faint cries of the villagers. She looked through the barren, autumn trees onto the valley below. The barn, now fully ablaze, lit up the eastern horizon. She estimated they were a half mile from the madness below.
Emily spied a gathering place in the middle of the clustered fallen timbers and branches—a small clearing not observable from down the slope. She called out, “Everyone,” and motioned with her head. “Over here. Let’s come together and take an assessment of who’s who and what to do next.”
Emily gasped for air as she looked at what remained of her sisters. Twelve cats sat together; wide eyed, catching their breath, and terrified. Her following studied themselves and each other, exploring their new bodies.
Emily didn’t know who had escaped from the barn and who died. There was such a confused frenzy to find a host she wasn’t sure who ended up in which feline body. Time to find out who sat in front of her and the gifting they possessed.
The one ability the witches all shared was they could communicate by a mental clairvoyance, but only with each other. This is how Emily identified and recruited those to her secret close-knit group. If any were found out by the villagers and townspeople, they were persecuted and hung or burned. Just like their mothers at the Salem Witch Trials and untold clandestine trials throughout the countryside villages.
Emily stood in front of her frightened sisters. The felines, all six months old of differing colors and patterns, huddled together. They were shaking, not only from the bitter cold, but from the trauma of what just happened. All their hopes and dreams were left behind. They were now outcasts, alone in new bodies, with nowhere to go and no one to help them.
“Everyone, it’s me. Emily Livingston. Don’t be scared. I’m here to lead the lot of you. But to be sure, let’s see who’s still alive. New bodies we all possess, and honestly, I do not recognize any of you. Call out your names and the gifting you have.”
Emily was sure she recognized the first to step forward. She was a black, brown, and white colored cat, and one whom the rest gravitated toward. The feline was a natural leader and her best friend.
She raised a paw and saluted. "Hello Emily. If you please, I shall go first. ‘Tis me, Rebecca Smyth.” She looked to the cats. “For those new to our gathering, I start fires and make liquids boil.”
Rebecca returned her look to Emily. “And I loved watching you beat down Mary Davenport and sent her screaming off to the Netherworld. Ha! I never did like that witch bitch."
Emily took a brief bow. “I never liked her, either. Okay, who’s next?”
A brown and white cat took her place beside Rebecca. “My name is Annie Smyth. I’m Rebecca’s younger sister. I speed things up and slow them down.”
Emily knew Annie well and welcomed the talented sisters. She studied the next cat, solid ginger in color. She thought of taking a wild guess, having no idea who it was.
"Hello cousin. Do you not know your own flesh and blood?”
Emily recognized the tone immediately.
“My name is Chloe Livingston,” she said, presenting herself to the clan. “I can levitate and hurl things through the air better than any archer.”
Emily was elated Chloe was alive. This helped ease a little of the sting from losing her sister Sarah. She still had family. “I’m glad to see you, cousin. You opened the barn doors while in full stride. That was amazing. You saved our lives.”
“Think nothing of it,” Chloe said. “Let’s move on. I’m freezing out here.”
A pitch black cat with green eyes introduced herself to the clan. “I’m Amy Worth. I can disappear from one place, then reappear somewhere else. I just hope I can do it living inside a cat’s body. I have to say, this is all so very strange.”
Emily nodded. “I’m sure we’re all wondering the same thing. Go on. Give it a try.”
Amy sat in the middle of the cats. She squeezed her eyes shut and disappeared. An instant later, she reappeared behind Emily.
Emily jerked her neck and spotted Amy behind her. “Well done. Thank you for the demonstration.”
She looked at the next cat and studied the grey and white striped feline. “Okay, I give up. You are—”
“It’s me. Helen Dornan.”
Emily was relieved to see her extroverted neighbor and very good friend. “Helen, I’m so glad you’re here. I’m quite amazed at your gifting.” Emily looked at the cats. “Her abilities to reverse things and lock and unlock doors will be most helpful. I promise you that.”
“I’m Angel Warren,” the next cat said to the group. “I cause people to not only dream, but influence their dreams and prophecy about their future. You can be sure this gifting will come in handy.”
“I’m next,” a cat with a mixture of brown and black stripes and spots said. “Scarlett Hansen is my name. I’m new to your group. This was my first meeting.”
Scarlett looked at Emily. “And I can also cause madness to descend, much like you did to that two-bit louse Adam Fitzgerald in the barn.”
Emily again nodded. “Since you’re new, you might not be aware that I have a unique gift. I assimilate and possess a certain amount of the abilities of other witches I am near. I simply used your gifting that I’m able to tap into. The more witches who join my tribe makes me more powerful as a leader.”
Emily looked at the clan. “I will begin to mimic a measure of all of yours, as well, as long as you are alive, of course.” She looked back to Scarlett. “We’ll get along just fine, I’m sure. Next.”
“Hi. Isabella Mills here.” She gave a wave of her paw. “My specialty is sending thoughts to a human or animal without using any physical interaction.”
“Don’t be modest,” Emily said. “You possess two abilities. An expert in illusion casting you surely are.”
Emily walked up to the next cat, thick furred, brown and white, with gray eyes. She stood nose to nose and looked deep into the cat’s eyes. “Try as I might, I cannot perceive your identity.”
“It’s me. Rachel Kinsbury. I can separate my soul from my body and spy on people.”
Emily’s eyebrows lifted. “Aha—I observed you being the fastest to make the transition out of your body. Now I know why. Okay, who’s next?”
“Jacqueline Chambers here. My family, like many of yours, left Salem for Boston only to find the same lot of drunken crumbs here. Bastards, they all are. Like Scarlett, I’m new, too. And I can freeze things.”
Rebecca blurted out, “Like we have need of that with winter coming.”
The comment brought a small round of laughs. Emily was quick to diffuse anything that would cause dissension. “That’s quite enough. We should all be thankful we’re not still in that burning barn. Welcome, Jacqueline. I know you will fit in with our lot just fine.”
Emily looked at the rest of the shivering cats. “Who else do we have?”
“Esther Lawson. And I’m right heartedly glad to be here than in that barn.”
“For those new to us,” Emily said to the clan. “Esther can cause small explosions. I do greatly admire her for that.”
“That’s quite impressive,” Scarlett said. “I feel much safer now. I pity any beetle-headed dog that tries to attack us.”
Emily stepped up to the last cat. A patchwork of large brown, black, and white spots stood trembling. “Hi. My name is Madelyn Sumner.”
“You’re also new,” Emily said. “Sorry for such a batty first night. Pray tell, what is your gifting?”
She paused as she looked at the other cats.
Rebecca craned her neck. “Yes?”
“Well, I—”
“Come on,
spit it out. It’s not getting any safer out here in the woods.”
“I’m great at research,” she blurted out. “I love to read. And I’m really very smart.”
“Great,” Rebecca said. “Just what we need. Someone who can organize our clan alphabetically.”
The round of laughter was louder this time. Madelyn shrank back. Emily was quick to brush up against her for support.
Madelyn looked up and down the circle of cats. “I can contribute. Your abilities, they’re all so amazing. Mine, well, they are harder to see and appreciate. My gifts work internally while you all do yours externally, so it’s hard to see what I can do. But I’m very smart. I remember everything I see and read. And I process information faster and better than anyone and solve incredibly complex problems. You’ll see.”
The others stared. Emily could almost read their thoughts. That’s it? That’s all you can do?
“Madelyn, how old are you?”
“I’m thirteen. Almost fourteen.”
Emily hugged her with her long, slender tail. “Well, Madelyn, you are the youngest. But I’m sure we can make good use of your brains. Welcome to our clan.”
Emily strutted back and forth in front of the twelve cats. Her sister, Sarah, was missing. Sarah, the bravest of all, who sacrificed her life so Emily could live. But there was no time to mourn. The fear in her followers’ eyes demanded she take charge. Rally her people. Instill hope and courage. She would cry for Sarah later.
“Ladies, here we are. Thirteen out of thirty-nine of us survived. Make no mistake, we are lucky to be alive. But our troubles, they are not over not by a long shot. They’ve actually just begun.”
“Look at us, in the middle of the forest with nowhere to go,” Rebecca said. “Winter is coming fast. And wild beasts abound in every direction. But, I know we can count on your leadership.”
Rebecca looked at the rest of the cats. “Right, everyone?”
The unison of nodding of heads was convincing and gave Emily much needed confidence.
“Thank you, Rebecca. I certainly need your support. I won’t let you down. First things first. We need shelter. Like an isolated farmhouse far away from this wretched place, where people won’t know the better of what happened. This will be easier if we form in four groups of three while we find our way out of this terrible place. We can better defend ourselves if attacked. Tonight, we rest here and leave at daybreak.”
Salem's Daughters Page 2