The Time Witch - Part 34
Recap: Adas has the upper hand and all appears lost, as Evangeline is under his spell. He plans to wed her to control her time magic.
LINKS: The Beginning, Last Part (#33), Time Witch page
“I object!”
Samuel Covington-York entered the Baxter Creek chapel, effectively stopping the wedding ceremony.
Evangeline blinked but couldn’t turn her head. Her eyes stayed locked on Adas Abernathy. The connection, unwanted in so many ways, felt vital. Necessary. It latched onto her like a second heartbeat. Ever since waking up on the pew, she’d teetered on the edge of a precipice. Yet, Adas kept her from falling.
I belong here, she thought, even though a tiny part of her wanted to run. I must say the vows.
Incense hung in the air, thick with forgotten prayers. It festered, taunting those present, as silence stretched from uncomfortable to chilling.
“Tell him to go,” Adas instructed his bride.
Still focused on her groom, Evangeline hadn’t acknowledged Samuel’s arrival nor appeared to understand the concern. “Who? There is none but you.”
Samuel took a step toward the altar. “Evangeline.” The single word echoed down the aisle, strong at first but fading fast. It died, unheard, before it reached the couple.
Grabbing his throat, Samuel looked left, then right. A hissing sound oozed over the pews from the perimeter of the chapel. The insidious turbulence closed in on him like a vise squeezing into soft wood. His knees buckled.
A strangled whimper escaped from Champ, witnessing the predicament. Too far away to help, he clutched the Bible.
Samuel’s lips moved, but no sound came forth. He tried to shout. The forceful burst only produced a painful squeak. Any words were snuffed out, never reaching the air.
An anguished sigh shook the church rafters as shadows emerged from the chapel’s recesses. The small alcoves were for prayer but harbored something else. Dark shapes transformed into human ones—the Coven members. Twelve witches appeared, separating into equal groups and lining up along the far side of the pews.
“Shit,” Champ muttered.
“All is as we wish, my sweet,” Adas said, keeping his eyes locked on Evangeline’s.
Wish reverberated between them, coaxing, cloying.
Samuel took another step toward the altar, his shoe stepping on a brass engraving. It was one of many embedded down the middle aisle, marking the resting places of the Founding Fathers.
The witches moved into the pews, closing in from all sides. Their focus centered on Samuel. One girl with dark red hair held out her hands, chanting softly. She raised them up, calling forth her magic.
The headstone shook beneath Samuel’s foot, and a Spector billowed up from underneath. The chalky form boiled with rage as the ghost rushed Samuel. Others joined it, spearing the man with their non-corporeal forms. Samuel gasped, grabbed his heart, shaken. He staggered back.
Another witch, the oldest among them, wove her hand through the air. She called forth roots from the ground. They broke through the floorboards, grabbed at Samuel’s feet, and forced him to his knees. As they crept up his torso, the gnarly roots squeezed his chest. His head jerked to the side. He glared at the witches.
“No Covington-York need be here,” the oldest witch said, her voice cracking with age. “The Wedding Pact.”
“No wedding has sealed the pact,” Champ shouted.
“Silence!” Adas ordered, and the roots tightened, making it hard for Samuel to breathe.
Champ swallowed an oath.
“Take care, preacher,” Adas warned, still keeping his eyes on Evangeline. “My bride grows weary. Her wishes must be honored.”
Wishes echoed in the air.
“Screw that!” The sharp cry echoed from the back of the church as Bear—the cantankerous friend of Champ’s—entered the chapel. He rolled a tennis-sized ball down the aisle. The witches turned on him, a bolt of energy whizzing toward his head.
Bear dove out of the way, scrambling behind the last pew.
Propelled by an inner power, the ball continued down the aisle and knocked into Samuel’s foot. It disintegrated on contact, transforming into a plume of color—green. The intense emerald pulled from the stained glass windows, flooding the room with a hypnotic glow. The witches shrunk away from the color, murmuring a protective spell.
Samuel fell onto his back as the roots retracted. Freed, he pushed up on an elbow, searching for the only person that mattered. “Evangeline!”
The name rang out.
Evangeline marveled at how it sounded. The urgency. The sweetness. Yet its meaning held only a distant memory. It had nothing to do with her wedding. I must say the vows, she thought.
“Continue, preacher,” Adas ordered.
“Evangeline,” Samuel whispered, softer. He imbued her name with a full heart of remembrance.
She heard it as if filtered through a straw.
“Preacher!” Adas would not be ignored.
“For-forsaking all bonds,” Champ stuttered, returning to the wedding vows. He took another step away from the couple as if preparing to run.
“Forsaking all bonds,” Adas and Evangeline repeated.
Samuel got to his feet.
The movement caught Adas’s attention. “All bonds,” he spat in Samuel’s direction.
“Save those made to each other,” Champ said.
Samuel took another step, and Adas shook his head in warning as if one more inch would be Samuel’s last.
“Save those made to each other,” Adas and Evangeline repeated.
“Binding bonds,” Evangeline said, forcing her hands and Adas’s together. “I call forth the bonds from childhood.”
Adas tried to pull away, but Champ lunged forward, clamping his hands over the couple’s, forcing their hands to stay together.
“From the past to the present, I call on the ancient power… to bind your magic from this darkest hour,” Evangeline finished the spell, shedding the last of the intoxication Adas had cast over her.
“No!” Adas screamed, and a clap of thunder shuddered over the chapel. A flash of lightning burst through every window, diluting the green and casting weird, colorful shapes against every surface.
Evangeline and Champ instantly released Adas’s hands. A tremor vibrated the building, causing all the candle votive chandeliers to swing. The unnatural earthquake rocked the foundation. The source—the Coven Mages. They chanted, hands joined, calling on the elements, even as torture filled their faces. An inner fight welled against their own actions.
“You are mine!” Adas insisted. “Our vows are the binding force.”
“Unless,” Champ interrupted, “I’m not really a preacher.”
Adas’s glare made the older man shrink back.
“And I was never your bride.” Evangeline faced Adas, leaning her head to the side. “Time is funny. It has a different pace. What happens in the past can take time to catch up to the present.” She frowned. “But it always catches up.”
“All that matters are your wishes.” Adas smiled, or whatever the sick twitch of his lips represented.
Wishes resonated, twisting around her briefly but dying as fast as a pin prick to a balloon. The magical word shrunk away, leaving room to breathe. Evangeline filled her lungs and finally turned to look at Samuel.
Their eyes locked, and he sat down in a pew, relieved.
“Can’t you feel it?” She directed the question to the Coven. “Control returns to you as the binding spell silences Adas’s magic. He is now bound by Coven witches—Starlight and your descendants… my friends—whom I sent back to his childhood to bind his magic.”
“No! They answer to me!” Adas spat.
The Coven witches shook off the last of Adas’s control.
“It worked.” Champ raised a fist in triumph, and Bear peeked up from his spot on the floor.
“What you stole ebbs away, returning to its home,” Evangeline told Adas. “The bonds of family—the bonds of love…” she glanced at Samuel, “the kind of bonds that no magic can break, they are the bonds that have destroyed your wicked game.”
Adas didn’t accept defeat. He grabbed for Evangeline’s neck… but his fingers never reached her throat. They froze inches from their target.
“Fool me once,” she whispered, stepping out of his grasp.
Samuel went to Evangeline as the Coven came forward to gawk at Adas. Trapped in his own little time warp, he appeared small. Champ and Bear joined them, introducing themselves as men from the future.
“Are you hurt?” Evangeline asked Samuel. Disheveled from the magic, his tousled hair and flushed complexion only made him more appealing, at least to Evangeline.
He bowed his head toward hers. “I know not yet, but all is well if you are well.”
She took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. “I am well.”
“Adas cannot be allowed to regroup,” Samuel warned, glancing cautiously at the menace’s frozen expression. Even in such a state, his eyes burned with malice. “I am at a loss as to how to contain him.”
“I have an idea.” Evangeline knew a spot. “He can bask in glory, well… in a lot of blinding whiteness. Leave it to me.”
The void was a fitting spot for Adas Abernathy.
Samuel didn’t follow, but he trusted her. Instead of asking for more details, he wrapped her in his arms. “As you wish.”
“Please, let’s never use the w-word again.” Evangeline rested her cheek on his chest, taking comfort in the solid strength and having him close.
“And what will you do with me?” Samuel asked, his voice dropping so only she could hear.
Evangeline smiled up at him. “You… I’ll keep.”
THE END - for now.
I absolutely w-word this story to continue, too!! Twice even if necessary!
I w-word this story would continue on--or a sequel!