The Time Witch - Part #24

Recap: In 1910, Coven witch Starlight surprised Evangeline, Samuel and Charles with a invitation to meet the rest of the Coven. The trio followed her to a hidden cove along Baxter Creek’s ocean bluff, descending underground for their audience with the witches.

LINKS: The Beginning, Last Part (#23), Time Witch page

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“So much magic!”

Evangeline took in the Coven’s cavernous, underground chamber and felt queasy.  The very air around them tingled with the magic it took to chisel the hidden space out of bedrock.

A vaulted stone ceiling arched two stories high, giving the circular-sized room a cathedral feel. Charles couldn’t stop looking up, mesmerized. The ceiling appeared to sparkle with stars. “Another night’s sky,” he murmured, bumping into his brother.

Samuel put a steadying hand on Charles’s shoulder.

Looking back at them, Starlight laughed. “A trick of magic cast by our founding members.”

The underground meeting space was decorated like a collegiate common room, with leather couches and full bookshelves. The rough stone floor displayed a cushioning of woven carpets. They crisscrossed each other, dampening the sound of their footsteps and reducing the cavern’s echo. Shoulder-high candelabras stood on the outskirts of the room. They offered the only light other than a central fire pit. Their glow added some warmth, physically and visually, to a space that would never see daylight.

“Remarkably, the atmosphere leans scholarly,” Charles said, eyeing what appeared to be a decanter of red wine. “It’s more than I would expect of witches.”

Instead of checking out their surroundings, Samuel watched the faces of the gathered women—twelve if he dared to count. They waited in the middle of the room. “Ladies.” He greeted them with a polite nod.

The Mages Three came forward; at least Evangeline guessed their titles based on her research and recent experience. The eldest one returned Samuel’s welcoming gesture: “A most auspicious day has befallen us, indeed, to greet members of the Founding Families.” She gave Samuel and Charles a little head bow.

Evangeline couldn’t tell if the woman was being authentic or if her words contained a hidden meaning.

“Unusual it is,” Samuel agreed, “yet necessary due to recent circumstances. A discussion will allow us to see a way through together, as our ancestors intended.”

“It shall be seen,” the eldest said, speaking for her sisters. She turned an indifferent expression toward Evangeline. “My dear, your abnormal magic astounds the Coven and requires review.” She arched an eyebrow at Samuel. “Unknown magic endangers us all.”

The witches whispered amongst themselves, creating a rumbling bass sound like a disapproving hiss. Evangeline felt all eyes on her.

Starlight raised her hands. “Sisters, please,” she said, quieting them. “This is Evangeline Moss, and she arrived in Baxter Creek by manipulating time, yet she says she is not a witch.”

More murmurs.

“May I speak?” Evangeline stepped forward, emboldened by an inner righteousness and a greater need. “I require your help, not your judgment. A real threat is coming.”

The eldest blinked twice. “What threat, pray tell?”

“I can’t quantify it. Not yet.”

The whispers grew.

Samuel shot a worried look to his brother, whose shoulders hunched in response.

The Elder Witch didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who left anything up to debate, especially with someone she didn’t know or understand, yet she motioned for Evangeline to continue.

“If you want to destroy the Coven,” Evangeline said, keeping her voice even so it didn’t sound like a threat, “then do what you always do.” The murmurs increased, making her worry that she hadn’t struck the right balance, but she didn’t give up. “What you do today will affect the future.” 

The eldest witch raised an age-spotted hand. “A reading.”

“Yes,” Starlight nodded encouragement to Evangeline. “Let us build an alliance. A reading will demonstrate your true intentions and is a Coven gift of support. Answers will be revealed.”

Evangeline shrugged, thinking it benefited the Coven more.

“Is that not what you want?” Starlight prompted. “Answers and help?”

“What’s a reading?” Charles asked, sobering up a bit.

Starlight turned to him. “Some witches have visions.”

“Of course they do—”

“When you speak of visions,” Samuel cut off his brother, an urgency worrying his brow, “in what nature are they presented?”

“The visions are singular to a subject,” Starlight explained. “They might reveal an emotion, a remembrance, or hidden dreams.”

Samuel’s eyes slanted to Evangeline, and she instantly knew he was thinking of her recent vision. She’d seen Adas Abernathy. The last thing she wanted to do was conjure him again. She looked away, hoping Samuel wouldn’t mention it.

“A crystal ball to the soul,” Charles whispered to himself.

“If it will not harm either the subject nor the reader,” Samuel said, “I believe it would be quite useful, and I thank you for the offer.”

Marveling at how politely they all spoke to each other, Evangeline agreed to participate, even though she had no idea if a reading would help. She hoped their magic was more reliable.

Taking in the women, Evangeline wanted to ask everyone about their magic and how they used it. If their abilities were hereditary, it would give her a clue about what she’d face with the future Coven members. She’d already seen them control the weather, weeds, hummingbirds, and emotions. Collecting that kind of data, however, would have to wait.

“We sincerely wish you are ready for the answers you seek,” the Elder Witch said, sounding cryptic.

Starlight squeezed Evangeline’s arm in a show of support, then stepped back. Samuel and Charles gave her encouraging nods and retreated as well, allowing Evangeline to face the Coven.

The Elder Witch waved a finger at the witches behind her. They parted, allowing a clear view of a chair on the group’s fringe. Sitting in it: possibly the oldest person Evangeline had ever seen—the Thirteenth Witch. Two younger witches went to her side, helping her stand. They guided her forward.

“Sister Cassandra,” the Elder Witch said in a calm, even voice, “take this girl’s hands and tell us what you see.”

Straining her back to stand as straight as possible, Cassandra winked at her helpers, signaling that she could go ahead unaided. However, it took some effort for her to shuffle forward. She reached out delicate hands for Evangeline to grasp.

“Hello,” Evangeline said as she took them, adding no pressure and astounded at how much younger they appeared than the rest of the woman’s body. They had the skin tone of a twenty-year-old with expertly manicured turquoise fingernails. Sensing the inspection might seem rude, Evangeline quickly looked into the witch’s eyes and saw humor.

“Magic has many benefits,” Cassandra said, her voice brittle with age. “As well as downfalls.”

Evangeline felt the witch could cite examples but didn’t ask.

“Close your eyes,” Cassandra said.

Evangeline obeyed.

“Clear your mind,” Cassandra whispered.

Evangeline had no idea how to clear her mind, so she focused on the distant sound of ocean waves. She could just make out their consistent crashing as each wave found the hidden cove and ended its journey on the rocky beach.

“Good,” Cassandra whispered.

The cavernous space around them grew silent. Evangeline could sense all those gathered, but the judgment had stopped. The rustling skirts, the whispers—all quieted. Anticipation took their place.

The waves, Evangeline told herself. Focus on the waves.

As her focus deepened, she imagined the waves hitting the shore and the soft mist they created. It lingered in the air. A thousand tiny droplets. The image relaxed her, giving Evangeline a moment of peace.

A scream, however, broke the serenity!

Evangeline’s eyes flew open to see Cassandra fall back, pulling her hands away. The Thirteenth Witch lost her balance. Luckily, her helpers grabbed her in time. A simple wooden stool appeared out of nowhere. They placed it so she could sit, shoulders trembling.

The frozen expression on Cassandra’s face turned to Evangeline. She pointed a finger. “The Lost Wife,” she hissed as if handing down a death sentence.

“Mistress Abernathy?”

The words echoed in the chamber, repeated by other witches. The meaning took on more weight each time, and the condemnation compounded. The title sent a shiver of fear in all who spoke it.

“She cannot be Adas Abernathy’s wife,” Starlight said, stepping forward. “She’s from the future.”

Evangeline instantly recalled the old photograph of her and Adas Abernathy. It was black and white. Any light-colored clothing would photograph white, so it hadn’t stood out to her that she was wearing a white dress in the picture. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the dress and got an image of lace. A lacy white dress. 

“Oh,” Evangeline sighed to herself. It was a wedding photo. 

Starlight spoke over the negative murmurs. “No, she is not evil. There is some mistake. Evangeline cannot be Mistress Abernathy.”

“Look! Look at her! She knows it is true!” Cassandra cried. “If she unites with him, we are doomed!”  

Evangeline turned toward Samuel. The pain in his eyes pierced her heart. No wonder the ghost hates me, she thought. Somehow, I marry Adas Abernathy? That’s so messed up.

“Bind her!” Cassandra screeched.

The pronouncement sent a murmur of fear from one witch to another. “Binding is not enough!” someone shouted at the back. 

“She’ll destroy us!” another witch cried.

The Elder Witch came forward, establishing order. “The men must leave,” she told the gathering, waving a regal hand toward Samuel and Charles. “Our pact protects them.”

“We shall all depart,” Samuel said, shaking off his shock and moving to Evangeline’s side.

The Elder Witch squinted her eyes. “Not her.” The statement promised trouble if Evangeline tried to leave the cavern. “We can not leave Mistress Abernathy to plot against us with her husband.”

The Coven shifted, reacting to the pronouncement. They moved away from their guests, forming a wedge—a tactical stance of defense. This allowed the witches to see the problem—Evangeline—and counter any form of magic she used. 

“Oh, come now, ladies!” Charles spoke up, bringing disbelief to the shift in moods. “We arrived in good faith. Most of you know me, and I vouch for this woman. No harm will come to you on this visit, and I very much doubt she has planned any harm to come your way at all.” His arms went to his waist, and he appeared extremely put out. “This is most inhospitable!”

His conviction eased the tension. Most of the witches didn’t know what to think or do. A threat appeared at hand, yet they had faith in the Founding Families, and here was one speaking up for Mistress Abernathy.

“I’m not married,” Evangeline finally found her voice. “And Adas Abernathy is no friend of mine.”

“You are a Time Witch. What has not yet happened matters not,” Cassandra hissed. “You are bound to him. You are Mistress Abernathy, I saw it! Your husband will wield your magic for evil.”

Evangeline threw up her hands. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Starlight took a protective stance in front of Evangeline. “My sisters, let wisdom rule your hearts. If this is so, what do we really know of Mistress Abernathy? No more than a scary tale. If Evangeline is this creature, I promise her story has not been fully told.”

“Stand back!” The other two members of the Mages Three ordered. The Mother and the Maiden stood as one, chanting a spell in a foreign tongue. Each word sent a spark to their fingertips until tendrils of light spiraled out. The pulsing bolts sizzled toward Evangeline. 

“Burn!” the Elder Witch ordered. Her threat echoed in the chamber, turning the tendrils into flames.

The sudden attack caused a ripple effect throughout the gathering. Several witches hunkered down, casting spells to protect their sisters. Samuel joined Starlight, creating a human wall between Evangeline and the Coven. Charles, on the other hand, covered his ears to shield himself from a high-pitched whine. It rose from the magic seething to life all around them.

“Stop, you must stop!” Evangeline pleaded. “I’m not a threat!”

No one heard. No one cared. Fear infected all. 

A tendril of flaming light touched Samuel’s shoulder. It scorched his shirt like an iron left on fabric too long. He stepped back, feeling the pain.

Evangeline reached out to help him. She knew he could be burned badly, but a flash—a vision—hit her hard. A vision of Adas Abernathy. His voice, husky and low, echoed in her mind. Without thinking, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and repeated his words, almost slurring them in a sing-song chant, “Timish tuney talli-con.”

Instantly, everything and everyone around her froze.

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