Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem

by Vera Jane Cook

  Chapter Forty

  I had no time to analyze what had just happened to me, or to question it. The church had vanished as if it had never been there. I was standing under a gas lamp on Smith Street. I felt my face and realized I still had Ursula’s form. I ran back to Rachel’s house and told myself I would think about the strange man in the church later.

  I could see through the windows that the family was eating dinner. I stole in through the unlocked front door and crept up the stairs to the child’s room. I was almost seen by the family maid but managed to duck behind the door in time and hide myself behind a drape. I waited for what seemed like forever for little Elizabeth Sue to be put to bed, but then I had to sit through a barrage of prayers. Finally, Rachel and Troy kissed the child’s cheek, turned down the oil in the side table lamp, and closed the door behind them.

  I knew I had to wait for the little girl to fall off to sleep, for if I were to show myself as Ursula Boussidan, I am sure her bloodcurdling screams would begin all over again and the entire neighborhood would be at Rachel’s door. So, I waited until I heard tiny, little snores coming from her lips. I then crept to her bedside and held my hand down on her mouth. She opened her eyes quickly and struggled under my grasp.

  “Elizabeth! Elizabeth! Shish! Please, please listen to me. It is I, Annabel Horton. I stole the woman’s flesh and it has cost me my soul. Listen. Let me prove it to you; Ursula would not know of my life in Salem. Hear me out! Listen to me: My father was Joshua Horton. My brothers were James and Jeremiah. Jeremiah was your father. I took you away from him. He sinned against you. Do you believe me now? Oh please, Elizabeth. We need each other. Jeanne Elemont will not give up, and men are weak. Matthew may succumb to her charms and marry the woman. Please Elizabeth, if I take my hand away, please, promise that you will not scream.”

  I looked into her eyes. They were filled with tears. She nodded her head up and down, and I knew she believed me and that I could now trust her.

  “Annie, I cannot see you in Ursula’s features. What does that mean?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Ursula must be a witch,” she whispered.

  “If she is, she is the devil’s witch,” I told her. “As I suspected.”

  Elizabeth let out a long sigh.

  “You are like me, now,” I said. “Your original body is gone.”

  “When Jeanne Elemont put her hands to my throat I remembered what you told me about Michele, about what he said to you right before they put the noose to your neck.”

  “Turn your head, sharp, to the right. Do it girl and be spared,” I said.

  “Precisely.” She smiled. “It worked. I lost my body, but my soul is intact.”

  “Oh, if only Michele were with me.”

  She reached to hug me.

  “He is safe. I am sure of it.”

  “What about Matthew, does he see you?” I asked.

  “No. No one looks that carefully at children, unless of course they are your own,” she whispered. “And I do not want him to see me. First I return to him old, and now young, too young.”

  “I am sorry.” I took her hand.

  “Do not be sorry,” she said. “I do have life at least.”

  “Urbain? What evil hand does he play in this game?”

  “I do not know. I do know that Ursula and Jeanne want the house and the entire estate. Evil wants all.”

  “That is too simple for the devil,” I said. “His wants are more complex.”

  “I think they want to kill Meredith Mae before she marries Callen.”

  “Yes, they have enough heirs to deal with. But then, there is Matthew’s share of the estate. That has nothing to do with what Meredith Mae owns.”

  “Jeanne will have to try and regain Matthew’s heart,” she said. “If she succeeds in doing so, she becomes heir to his wretched fortune.”

  “No, Jeanne Elemont will never have Matthew’s heart. She never did. She has a moment of his vulnerability and that is all.”

  Elizabeth looked away, and I continued.

  “Meredith Mae will have to sneak behind her father’s back in order to see Ursula. I do not know if she will do that. But Ursula and Jeanne will find some way to trick her. They will plan her murder once Ursula has written herself back into my granddaughter’s will.”

  “Ursula and Jeanne have to kill Rachel and Matthew and Meredith Mae in order to ensure the estate. Wouldn’t that look a bit suspicious?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “So, maybe they will be more methodical in their planning, or perhaps, they simply do not care,” I said sarcastically. “There’s always a house fire when everyone is inside. Perhaps that’s their plan.”

  “I think that Jeanne Elemont will probably get rid of Ursula. She will have no need for her once she snares my husband,” Elizabeth said.

  “I do not understand why Ursula did not kill Meredith Mae in Europe right after they eloped.”

  I sat back and reached for a glass of water that sat on the nightstand by Elizabeth Sue’s bed and sipped it.

  Elizabeth blushed. “Sex, I imagine.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  I turned away.

  “The witch desired her; she still does. Meredith Mae is quite beautiful.”

  “Then how did she keep Jeanne Elemont from killing her in a jealous rage?” I asked.

  “I have a theory.”

  “I’d like to hear it.”

  “Well, I think that our Jeanne Elemont is using Ursula to her own advantage, but every time Ursula botches the plan she becomes more and more disposable. Personally, I do not think she cares one way or another who Ursula takes to her bed.”

  “But what of Ursula?” I questioned. “How does she insure her fortune if Jeanne convinces my son to marry her?”

  “Didn’t you mention that Ursula will write herself back into Meredith Mae’s will?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  “Well, Meredith Mae’s trust is worth more than Matthew’s estate. It is Jeanne who needs Ursula, I would say. She stands to inherit more money if their wicked, little plans work.”

  “I suppose so.” I shuddered.

  “Do you think they are immortal?” she asked.

  “I do not know,” I said. “But if Urbain was crushed under the stones of Loudon in 1634, his daughter must be quite a hag.”

  Elizabeth giggled. “We could use her beauty secret one day.”

  “Yes,” I said simply. I brushed the hair from her forehead, as if she were really a small child. “I wonder why they did not kill Rachel after the devil’s mass? They wanted her dead. It was clearly a sacrifice.”

  I closed my eyes. I could see the vivid image behind the darkness of Ursula’s lids, poor, little Rachel at the altar and the stake at her heart. Oddly enough, I suddenly felt tremendous fear. I did not know if it was my own emotion or Ursula’s.

  “They call it the devil’s reprieve,” Elizabeth said. “They believe that Satan saved Rachel, not Annabel Horton. So they let her live.”

  “Perhaps.” I smiled. “Or perhaps they are not really evil.”

  “They are evil to me.”

  “What shall we do?” I whispered.

  “Maybe we should try and convince Matthew and Meredith Mae that they are being deceived. Perhaps they will believe us and flee the century. Have you ever seen Jeanne and Ursula in another dimension? Perhaps they cannot follow us.”

  “I will not forfeit my fortune,” I said.

  “What? You will allow harm to come to them?” Elizabeth shot up in bed and glared at me.

  “What of Rachel and Troy?” I questioned. “You would leave them in the hands of the devil?”

  “They are not witches. They cannot cross time.”

  “Rachel?”

  “She is only clairvoyant. She can see through the dimensions but she cannot cross.”

  “But you live in her child’s body. Will you take that from her?”

  Elizabeth sighed. “She will have another
child,” she told me. “Her child lived longer than she would have because of me. I have spared her some grief.”

  “Whatever we do, let us make sure we do not let fear cost us our security.”

  We sat in silence for a long time and stared at the reflection of the moon. It was as if neither of us wanted anything more than the simplicity of a night’s rest, for both of us began to nod off.

  “Well, what are we to do?” Elizabeth’s head came up sharply and she shook it. “I can think of nothing.”

  I turned and took her hand again.

  “I have no thoughts yet, either,” I told her. “How is Matthew? I want so much to comfort him.”

  “He is despondent and distraught over my murder. He blames himself for leaving me alone.”

  “Is Jeanne Elemont succeeding in turning his head around?” I asked.

  “Yes, she has been going to the house and asking to see Matthew. He has refused to see her, but I can tell he is weakening; even Rachel mentioned it.”

  “Why do you not go to him and tell him to stay away from her?”

  “I cannot go to my husband as a child. What can I offer him now? That is why I needed you. It is too painful to have him look upon me as a baby, even when I have the truth to give him.”

  I put my arm around her small body and held her in the arch of my shoulder.

  “And Meredith Mae?” I asked. “Now I know why she was so sad. What can I do for her? I know she must be suffering so much.”

  “She hates Callen Hall, but she must marry him. Do you know that she refuses to believe that Jeanne Elemont was Ursula’s lover and is trying to convince her father that I made the whole thing up, out of jealousy, because I knew of his affair with Jeanne? I think Matthew is beginning to believe it.” She sighed.

  “Then we must act quickly,” I said. “If Jeanne Elemont convinces Matthew to marry her, then my son and my granddaughter are in terrible danger.”

  “What about Meredith Mae? She’ll see that you’ve murdered Ursula,” Elizabeth said.

  “She won’t see. Annabel Horton is lost in Ursula’s features. I will have to keep up the charade. I will not have her hate me for Ursula’s murder, if in fact, I have actually succeeded in doing away with her.”

  “Oh, what should we do?”

  “I think that we must go to Matthew and convince him to convert our money into gold.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “We will all flee the century with our fortune intact. We can transport material objects. I am sure of it. My clothes travel with me; why not my gold?”

  “But what if Jeanne Elemont can follow us? She will just continue to seduce my husband, and I have a child’s body. I cannot compete with her.”

  “We will find a way to age you, somehow, but the gold will be converted to cash in the twenty-first century and deposited into several different investments, all under the name of Ann Arlin Peckham Guyon.” I smiled. “I am afraid Jeanne Elemont cannot seduce me.”

  I noticed that Elizabeth squinted up her eyes and looked as if she had just swallowed bad food.

  “What is it, Elizabeth?” I asked.

  “Oh Annie. I am so terribly sorry.”

  “Sorry? Sorry about what?”

  “You were murdered, Annie. Ann Arlin Peckham Guyon was found stabbed in the library of her home. I have been in a trance with Emie. Your children were present. Urbain came there and he…”

  I sat back and gasped. I had forgotten, for an instant, what the beast had done to me, but now it settled in my brain, and I cried out so fiercely that the child quickly sat up and put her hand over my mouth.

  “Michele and the children are grieving terribly,” she told me.

  “Oh my God!” I cried. “You must tell them that I am all right.”

  “But you are not all right, Annie. You cannot be seen in Ursula’s features. That frightens me.”

  “You must tell Michele that I am fine, Elizabeth. You must relieve his pain. You must tell my children that I live and breathe,” I whispered fiercely.

  “Michele has gone into the time chamber, Annie. He went in search of you. Philippe stood just outside the chamber and watched as Urbain followed Michele. Philippe told Emie to wait on the outside of the chamber—that he would send for her, and then he ran to follow his father.”

  “No!”

  “Michele quickly told Philippe to act as a manservant and stay at his side.”

  “‘I will follow you, Father. I will never leave you,’” Philippe said. “Michele told him to protect you, that Urbain was gaining hold of him.”

  “‘When we find your mother, remain with her. Do not give her too much information at once. Protect her, Philippe,’” Michele said.

  “My God, what will happen to them?”

  “Emie communicated to me that they vanished, all of them, Michele, Philippe, and the bastard, Urbain.”

  “Where have they gone?” I asked.

  Suddenly, Elizabeth shot up in bed and stared at me.

  “You had better leave now.”

  “What?” I cried.

  “They must have gone into the dimension you spoke of so often. Oh my God. They have gone to Matthew’s birth. Of course!”

  “What are you saying?”

  “They have gone to seduce Patience Stokes.”

  “Good God!” I cried.

  “Michele said Urbain was gaining hold of him. They must be there in that dimension now. Philippe kept his promise and stayed with you right before you came back to Salem. Destiny is being written, and we must allow its course, for it has happened.”

  She stood from the bed. “You must go. Ursula will return to her flesh and surely murder me once again. I do not think I can stand anymore violence.”

  “I have nowhere to go.”

  “You did not murder Ursula. Perhaps Jeanne Elemont was able to protect her from your grasp. So now they are having fun with you. Ursula is momentarily hindered by you, but not gone or dead. When she regains consciousness you may disappear and won’t be able to help me.”

  Suddenly, I felt cold; a sharp jab went through the left side of my head. I looked at the child as she stared at me strangely. My vision went dark, so dark that I quickly lost sight of everything.

  “Oh my God. You are right,” I called out. “Run, Elizabeth! She is regaining her strength. She will force me out.”

  But, just as Elizabeth ran to the door, I was thrown to the wind, thrown from inside Ursula’s form. I regained a shadowy vision, and as if watching through white smoke, I saw Ursula reach out her hand and put it over Elizabeth’s mouth. I tried to stop her, but I was no longer inside her body. I had become nothing but thought and I could not control Ursula any longer. I watched helplessly as Ursula went to the open window and jumped to the ground below with the child in her arms.

  * * * *

  I had been forced out of the body of Ursula Boussidan as if blown by the wind of a hurricane, and I landed back in the darkness from which I had arrived. I fell into an abyss from which I would not awake until startled by the playful call of the man from the church. Oh, so many dimensions of time and space would alter and shift before the stasis my soul now lingered in would lift.

  PART III

  DOMINUS

  Chapter Forty-One

  I went to that place where all time meets, and in that eternal second I heard the melody of a song, the squeak of a box, the sound of wind. Ah yes, I felt the coolness of porcelain and the warmth of wool. I tasted wine on my lips and giggled. I saw blood on my hands and wept. I felt the delirium of love, and oh, how deeply I obsessed in it—the obliteration of grief, oh, how fine was that. I ached for language and was given ink. I was moved by innocence, haunted by the stroke of an artist’s brush. I was drowned in guilt, consumed in the weight of it. Oh so briefly, I picked up the scent of a rose, the taste of fruit. I knew desire and wallowed. I felt defeat and withdrew. I wiped away tears that were not my own and sadness choked me. I did not turn away and compassion freed me. A whi
te-tailed doe made me stop to smile. The soar of an eagle made me stop to dance. I called to my mother and her arms enfolded me. I wept for my father and his smile returned to me. I prayed for my children and an angel heard me. Friendship blessed me. Loneliness left me. I cursed this taunting hum of a universe that made me cold enough to shiver, and then so hot I burned. I lingered over the fall of a leaf, the sight of rain, the rage of thunder. I knew myself so profoundly that I gave up all fear. I lost myself so completely that I ached an infinity. I saw nothing but darkness, then nothing but stars. The earth closed around me and then opened anew, and I cherished it. Oceans slapped against the shore, and the moon slid into my hands like magic. Hatred passed before my eyes and left me empty. Humility consumed me and left me full. Snow fell. Grass grew. Sweet, sweet air left its kiss on my lips and my breath made ripples in the universe. I worshipped the Lord with all my heart, and he clothed me in silk. Where am I? I am at the point where all time meets. I am in the eyes of God and the sight of God’s presence is on my soul. Therein, I see you.

  * * * *

  “Annabel?” he called.

  I had ears to hear.

  “Annabel?” he called again.

  I looked all around me. It was the church I saw so long ago, familiar and aglow with candles. The Virgin guarded the lights that flickered, and Jesus looked so sweet. I went to the statue and touched his feet.

  “Oh Annabel?” he called again.

  So now I had eyes to see.

  “Who goes there?” I asked.

  “An angel,” he whispered.

  I now had a nose to smell wood and incense, flowers too. His cloak left a scent of musk in the air, a scent of rain.

  “Michele?”

  “I’m afraid not,” he said again.

  I sighed louder and held out my hands. Nothing.

  “Where am I?” I asked.

  “Here,” he answered.

  I went to him. His face was shielded in shadow, but I noticed a beard, dark and full. His hair curled. His form was large. He appeared young one moment and old the next.