Abby the Witch

by Odette C. Bell

  Pembrake shifted his eyes back to Abby's dress. She looked like she should, he thought finally. Dressed up in that blue dress, with her hair pulled up and her neck adorned with a beautiful necklace – she looked like she was supposed to. Finally a young woman and not the dower, age-loving witch she fought so hard to show the rest of the world.

  'Oh,' Abby smiled awkwardly, 'Pembrake's a guest of the Princess,' she volunteered a little too candidly, 'and I've just… found myself here by other means.'

  Karing cocked an eyebrow. 'Really? You two aren't here together?' he looked at Pembrake, and was that disapproval tugging at the corner of his eyes? 'You're here with the Princess?'

  Pembrake didn't want to say yes, it felt like admitting some terrible misdemeanour to… his father. 'Ummm, well….'

  'It's complicated,' Abby jumped in, 'but what's wrong with you two. Honestly, Lilly, you look pale.'

  His mother didn't really look like she could handle telling anyone the truth right now. She looked on the verge of tears. 'I… we have some bad news.'

  Abby looked confused for a moment. 'You've cancelled your engagement, haven't you?'

  Lilly nodded. Karing gave the barest, most rejected of smiles.

  'Why?'

  'It's not proper for a woman of my place to....' Lilly's lips were moving so stiffly her voice sounded like it was popping, 'marry a man like Karing.'

  Never did anyone look more dejected than Lilly at that moment.

  'But why? You don't believe that?' the passion was beginning to creep back into Abby's voice and she was looking at Lilly with those fiery eyes.

  She couldn't stand injustice, could she? Living on the streets in a city that hated her, surrounded by people that would rather see her at the bottom of a pit than alive and a well – and she still allowed herself to be incensed by other people's woes.

  'Don't really have a choice,' Karing looked over his shoulders at the other guests with dead eyes. 'Decree of the Colonel.'

  Pembrake blanched. He twisted his hands into the tightest fists he'd ever made. 'The Colonel? How is this any of his business?'

  Karing looked nonplussed by Pembrake's rage. 'He's Lilly's Uncle.'

  Everyone looked at Lilly.

  Pembrake held it in, just. The Colonel… he was related to the Colonel?

  'Surprising, ha? Lilly had never told me either.' Though his statement seemed bitter, Karing didn't appear to be taking a jab at Lilly. It was clear that his feelings of loss and dejection were simply bubbling to the surface in his every action.

  Nor had his mother ever told him. Pembrake stared at Lilly now.

  The Colonel?

  Abby sniffed politely, or sombrely, or carefully – he couldn't be sure. But she took a step towards Lilly and grabbed her arm tenderly. 'Who's the Colonel to tell you what to do though? He's only an uncle, surely you have more say in the matter.'

  'He's only the right-hand man to the King, he's only to be the leader of the Guards, he's only one of the most powerful people in Bridgestock,' Karing was staring off into the middle distance, like a scarecrow waiting for the black birds.

  'But, Lilly, surely there's something you can do? Surely there is something?' Abby looked as desperate as Pembrake felt. But she was showing it, she was doing something; he could hardly move.

  'Pembrake!' the Princess' voice rang out behind him. 'Where have you got to?' she reached him and hooked her arm into his.

  Abby took a step back from them, drawing closer to Lilly.

  'Who are these people?' the Princess screwed up her nose as she looked around, finally settling her eyes on Abby and cocking her head. 'Oh, I hardly recognised you. What are you wearing, and what have you done with my dress?'

  Abby played with the fingers of one glove. 'I um….'

  'Oh whatever,' the Princess turned to him, 'we have to go, Pembrake, and meet some of my friends.'

  Karing looked up at him, apparently pushing aside his own feelings for the moment. The look he gave Pembrake was clear: his brow was drawn taught, his eyebrows flattened, his lips as thin as a line.

  It seems his father did not approve.

  'Pembrake, come along,' the Princess tugged and tugged.

  He didn't have an option, did he?

  Abby caught his eye, cocked her head gently to the side and nodded. As the Princess looked away for a moment, having the attention of a hyperactive three-year-old, Abby mouthed 'balcony' and 'later'.

  He looked at his father and mother once more, and left with the Princess.

  For the rest of the night Pembrake felt cold with dread, hot with anger, and bubbling with frustration. He dutifully attended to the Princess, even when he saw the Captain of the Guard return to Abby's side.

  He was related to the Colonel and the pleck had been the reason his parents had never stayed together. The Colonel had been the reason his mother had hung off the arm of Mr Hunter, no doubt some suitable dignitary that the Colonel had wanted to impress, with limp indifference. The Colonel was the reason Abby had been headed for starvation and a lonely demise.

  The Colonel was responsible for it all.

  In the warm ballroom, Pembrake chilled for the rest of the night.

  ~~~

  Abby spent most of the rest of the ball trying not to slap the Captain of the Guard; Martha had given her various warnings, but none could match the reality of the man himself. If Abby had ever entertained the idea that Pembrake was a dastard rouge – then she had been sadly mistaken.

  The Captain of the Guard was in a league of his own. He spent most of the night watching Pembrake and waiting for him to turn around, and when he did, the Captain would surreptitiously wind a hand around Abby's back and draw her closer.

  She wanted to drive her heel into his foot and secure a bucket of ice-cold water to throw over his face.

  She tried to be polite, tried to smile without daggers in her eyes, but couldn't manage most of the time. They did not really talk, simply stood varying distances apart depending on which direction Pembrake was looking at the time.

  She wouldn't say that she had ever had an understanding with the Captain of the Guard; she'd known from the outset what kind of man he was, after all. But something had become clear tonight, to both of them: they were only interested in using each other.

  The Captain had no doubt seen her and Pembrake leave for the balcony, and would be a fool if he thought for a moment that Abby was interested in the Captain. No, he knew Abby was only trying to get to the Ball, just as she knew he was using her to get to the Princess and Pembrake alike.

  'You are frosty tonight, little mouse.'

  Abby looked up and swilled the untouched wine in her glass. 'As are you, Captain.'

  'Really, mouse, after I bought you that dress and brought you with me to the Ball – well I'd hoped you'd be a little warmer towards me.'

  Abby let her eyes drift towards Lilly and Karing who were standing apart, both hunched over with defeat.

  There wasn't anything warm about this ballroom.

  'Perhaps I find it cold in here.'

  'Well we could always go somewhere warmer.' he flicked his fringe to the side and smiled dashingly, though his heart didn't appear to be fully into it, and his eyes flickered with fatigue.

  'Tell me, Captain,' she turned to him, 'would you do something for me?'

  She enjoyed watching him flinch back with confusion. 'Umm, certainly, mouse.'

  'Could you please cut the pleck. I'm not stupid Captain; you yourself said I was clever. I know you're only interest in me lies in drawing the attention of the Princess. So could we please stop pretending?'

  The Captain's eyes were wide and he coughed clumsily. 'My, my, you are cold tonight… but, as always, refreshingly clever. I suppose it is true that I may have an ulterior motive in acquainting you.'

  She crossed her arms.

  'But I assure you it is secondary to my primary desire.' His usual lecherous smile was back in place.

  'And I assure you that it isn't. Seriously, do y
ou honestly think you'll get the Princess' attention by flirting with someone else? If you like her so much, why don't you just tell her?' Abby felt her cheeks flush with righteousness.

  'This is quite rich coming from you, mouse. Are you honestly that innocent? Do you not know how courting works, mouse?'

  Abby's cheeks grew a touch hotter; he was looking at her imperiously, after all.

  'Apparently not. Let me fill you then. There are games that we play and they are quite fun. But if you for once don't respect the rules, if you for once blow the mystery of the game and proclaim to everyone that is simply a farce – you lose. I admit that the Princess is in my sights,' the Captain spoke with a low secret voice, 'but according to the rules of play, I'm keeping my cards close to my chest.'

  'And bluffing,' Abby said weakly.

  'And bluffing,' the Captain said as he drew closer.

  He wouldn't would he? He wouldn't.

  Somehow the Captain had secured a hand under her chin and was angling it up.

  Pleck!

  He was looming like a storm in her sights, an inescapable, terrible storm.

  Chapter 16

  The Captain leaned closer, until he was no further away from her lips than a centimetre.

  'Ow!' he suddenly snapped away. 'What on Earth?'

  Somehow, some impossible how, Charlie was darting behind her legs, having bitten the Captain firmly on the leg. 'What on Earth is a cat doing here?'

  Abby squeaked.

  The Captain looked apoplectic, and people were beginning to stare.

  By now Charlie had darted deftly between the crowd and towards the balcony doors. Before he made it through them, he shot Abby a triumphant look and appeared to bow low. Then he was off through the doors headed no doubt for safety.

  She had no doubt that Charlie would be able to outwit the Captain of the Guard. That cat knew how to hide from trouble.

  The Captain was now marching through the crowd trying to draw the attention of the staff. He looked like he'd be busy for the time being.

  Abby touched a hand to her lips and rocked back on her feet. That had been close, that had been so unnervingly close.

  'Abby,' Pembrake caught her arm and twisted her around.

  'Pembrake,’ it wasn't my fault she blurted suddenly, sure that he was about to berate her. 'He was just so fast.'

  He looked confused but didn't let go. 'I don't think you understand – it's almost midnight. I've managed to distract the Princess for now. The Gov said that midnight would be important,' he was looking into her eyes with that concentration that always made her blush, 'why, what were you talking about?'

  She tried not to touch her lips again with her free hand, but didn't seem to have much control over herself at the moment. 'Nothing.…'

  Pembrake looked at her from under his eyebrows and he wasn't smiling. He let go of her arm and took a step back. 'Who was so fast?'

  She moved her hands about quickly, trying to distract him from going any further. 'Ignore me, I'm just flustered, that's all. So midnight you say, that's really interesting.'

  'Abby, what did he do?'

  She was cracking under the pressure here. 'I… I….'

  'Abby?'

  'Look it wasn't my fault! I confronted him about only taking me to the ball because he wanted to get back at the Princess and then… well… he tried to kiss me,' she squeaked just like a mouse.

  Pembrake paused. 'Tried?'

  'Charlie bit him at the last moment then ran out.'

  'That's a smart cat you've got there.'

  Abby had never blushed quite like this before. It was exquisite, it was hot, it was all encompassing. It was like being in a steam bath.

  There was a moment of silence between them and it painfully led onto several more moments of silence. Abby was quite clearly melting on the spot.

  'There's so much that I need to talk to you about,' Pembrake cleared his throat and took a step closer, 'there's just so much that I need to say.'

  'Oh.'

  By now most of the guests had pushed further into the room and her and Pembrake were left mostly alone in a corner. It was nearing midnight, after all, most of the guests wished to see the hands of the great grandfather clock, that stood underneath the stair case, tick over to the next day. It was supposedly a Royal heirloom. It was giant and gilded in gold, its face clear crystal. A central piece of the ballroom, apparently, as it kept perfect time.

  'Look, Abby,' he took another step closer. 'I need to ask you to do something for me.'

  She shook a little like a tall sunflower in a slight breeze.

  He took up her hands. 'I need you to trust me.'

  She nodded mutely.

  'I didn't want to tell you here, but now seems as good a time as any,' Pembrake looked cautiously at the rest of the room then leaned down, his voice the barest of whispers, 'we have to do something.'

  'P-Pembrake?'

  'We have to make the future a better place.'

  'Pembrake?'

  'We have to take the opportunity of being in the past to make it pay for the mistakes of the future.'

  'Pem… what?'

  'Abby, we have to do something to ensure that the Bridgestock we go back to is not the Bridgestock that sent us here.'

  'But-'

  'We have to change the future, we have to do it.'

  'But, Pembrake-'

  'We don't owe anything to that future,' he kept his voice so low, his face close enough so that only she could hear his words. 'That future did nothing for me, and it did nothing for you.'

  'Pembrake… what do you mean?'

  'There's one thing we can do…. There's one thing we can do to make sure the future is a better place.'

  Her heart was light and heavy all at the same time. 'What do you mean?'

  'We have to be decisive: we have to strike at the heart of this problem.'

  'What heart?'

  'Abby,' the clock struck 12, 'we have to kill the Colonel.'

  She pushed away from him. It should have been different, right? That isn't what he should have told her at the stroke of midnight. It should have been different.

  'Kill the Colonel,' she hissed quietly, 'are you insane?'

  He shook his head, features even and cold. She felt her back tingle from the passive look on his face. 'Not at all, Abby, I'm thinking more clearly than I ever have in my whole life. I know I have to do this.'

  'But, Pembrake,' her lips were wobbling, 'you can't!'

  'I have to. Don't you realise,' he kept darting his head around to check that no one was in ear shot, but the party was so loud that even if someone had been standing right next to them, they probably would not have heard a thing.

  She shook her head firmly; she didn't want to think like him if his conclusions included assassination.

  'The Colonel is the reason the future turns out like it does. He creates the Witch Ban, he promotes all the hate and racism, and he-'

  'Breaks up your parents.'

  Pembrake nodded sombrely. 'Don't you see what he does?'

  Abby closed her eyes for a brief moment. 'Even if we did what you say, Pembrake, how could you be sure it would change the future the way you want it to? Didn't the Witch Ban start with an assassination? Didn't something so hateful come off the back of something so terrible? In my experience, horrible things don't make up for horrible things. Killing people only ever leads to fear and hatred.'

  He shook his head. 'Sounds like the argument of a civilian. Some people don't have the luxury of thinking that way, Abby. When I joined the Navy I took an oath to protect the people of the Westlands. Do you know what it means to agree to protect people?'

  'It means you should do everything in your power to keep them safe, I know that, Pembrake. But can you really do that by killing people? Can you really protect a population by making them afraid, by making them accepting of murder? What kind of protection is that? Isn't it better to safeguard what's right than pay the price for what's wrong?'

 
'Abby, when you agree to protect someone, you agree to stop thinking about yourself.'

  She flinched at his words, she didn't agree with where he was going one bit, but he seemed so terribly honest.

  'When you agree to protect someone, you agree not to wait around before people have thought about what's right. Because time and indecision kill people. Thinking is a luxury of people who aren't responsible. Decisions – actions – are the only real things that can help people. Sitting around and thinking about the moral implications won't save people. Grabbing someone who's drowning and pulling their head above the waves is saving someone. Standing on the shore and thinking about it will see that person drown.'

  She shook her head again.

  'Abby, tell me you see the opportunity here, don't tell you haven't thought about this before?'

  'Pembrake, this is just not worth discussing. This won't get us home again; this will see us rot together in a prison.'

  He stepped closer, till it was just the both of them again, till she totally believed he was the only other person in the room. 'Then it's worth it. I'll rot in a prison with you if I know I've at least tried to make the future a better place. I won't follow you back to the future to watch you starve and die in a place that will cheer at your funeral.'

  She shivered again, as if the iciest of winds was circling the room.

  'I'm going to do this, Abby.'

  'Pembrake, no.'

  'Look, I will say good bye to the Princess and I will meet you at the gates of the Palace.'

  She didn't speak.

  'Please be waiting for me there, Abby.'

  He walked away, leaving Abby shaking as if she had received the greatest fright it was possible to receive. Her hands jittered like a ball being jerked back and forth on a long string, and even when she clutched them around herself they did not stop.

  The gates of the Palace….

  She walked there in a daze, barely capable of concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

  He couldn't be serious, he just couldn't.

  The night had grown very cold indeed, and the other guests who were beginning to leave the ball were busy tucking their hands into their pockets or stamping their feet. Abby didn't even bother to draw her shoulders in to try to conserve heat – she just let the chill drag through her.