October 10, 1692
"No! Let go of me!"
"You're not going anywhere, little witch." The man said gruffly, as he tried to drag me onto the back of the wagon.
My eyes wandered towards my fiancee, Sam, he too struggling for all that he was worth.
"You can't do this!" I cried out desperately. "We were going to be married!"
"I'm afraid that doesn't matter."
"But...but I'm with child!" I wailed, truly desperate now. They would figure out I wasn't truly with child in time, I knew. For now, I could bluff all I wanted. Anything to keep me from the gallows. I knew that they wouldn't kill a woman with child.
"A likely story," another man laughed. "That's what they all say."
I found myself lodged next to Sam in the cramped wagon. It was then that I realized I was crying and could not stop. What would become of us?
October 12, 1692
I tried to ignore the stares and whispers as I sat quietly in the cold, dark courtroom. Of course Sam and I would be the subject of their gossip. We were both members of prominent merchanting families who also happened to be very religious.
The sound of my name woke me from my reverie.
"Ava! What is the meaning of this?"
It was my father closely followed by my mother.
"Father, I..."
"She and my son Samuel were convicted of witchcraft, Peter, or haven't you heard?"
My head jerked up. It was Edward Bailey, Sam's father. Why did he look so smug, sound so amused? My suspicious thoughts of Mr. Bailey disappeared in an instant. That was when I saw her, with her body contorted in a unnatural position at the sight of us. My best friend and Sam's sister--Claire.
I couldn't believe it! She had ensnared us! I felt so betrayed. Why would Claire do something like this? Why? We were supposed to be friends! It had never crossed my mind how Claire must have felt at me courting her brother. Had it affected her so much that she would go this far? She couldn't really want her brother dead. I couldn't believe it of her. Not her. How would this affect her life once her brother was dead, knowing that it was her fault? I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to forgive her for this or trust her ever again.
I knew that Sam and I were doomed to die. No one ever escaped an accusation of witchcraft. No one. Not unless you confessed to being a witch, but no one in their right mind would do that. I'd rather die than live the rest of my life shunned for being a witch.
"This is preposterous!" my father roared.
I shook my head. It was no use. My father had always had a temper, but arguing with Edward Bailey would just get him into trouble.
"Ava would never do anything of the sort. Sam is a good lad, and you should know that better than anyone. You wouldn't dare accuse your own son, Edward!"
"I didn't do the accusing," Mr. Bailey said coolly. "Claire did. She has been tormented by your daughter's spectral form for many nights now, and she even saw her own brother move things without touching them."
Abruptly, Claire began convulsing again.
"What is it, child? Who is tormenting you?" asked one of the magistrates.
To my horror, she raised a shaky finger and pointed it at both my father and mother.
"Nooooo!"
"Why? Why? Claire liked and respected my parents. It didn't make any sense. However, I knew one thing for sure. I would hate her for the rest of my life.
What happened next would be the talk of the next few weeks. As soon as my horrified shriek was ripped from my throat, a powerful gust of wind swept through the court room. The door had swung open seemingly by itself, and the shutters on the windows rattled. But what had people talking was the fact that the day was unusually calm and peaceful. There wasn't any wind at all.
October 14, 1692
Gallow's Hill...the very sound of it chills me to the bone, but that was where my mother, father, and my beloved were hauled two days after the trial. They had decided to postpone my hanging to question me. They were sure that I had caused that breeze in the courtroom. The entire notion was ridiculous of course, but I wasn't going to argue with the magistrates.
My father was hung first, followed by my mother, both reciting the Lord's Prayer perfectly as the noose was set over their necks. I smiled at that. That was something a witch was not supposed to be able to do.
I tried not the cry as the trapdoor was dropped on both my parents, but was unsuccessful. I think i truly lost it at the hanging of my beloved. He caught my eye as the noose went around his neck. It was a reassuring look, as if to say, "Everything is going to be all right."
He didn't know how wrong he was. Everything was not going to be all right. He was going to die. I watched his gaze shift to his father, his eyes silent and accusing. His gaze never left his father's, not even after his body stopped jerking in the rope.
"Nooooo! Sam!"
Why had he looked at his father as he died? Pointedly blamed his father? His sister was to blame! His sister!
I found myself overwhelmed with rage and despair. How could she? Her own brother! Her own brother! How could she do that to him? To us?
Cold raindrops splattered onto my face, mixing with the tears of my grief.
My eyes caught Claire's at that moment. They were red from tears. Why had she been crying? She had gotten her wish. Her brother was dead now.
My eyes bored into hers. Don't expect me to forgive you for what you have done. For I will never forgive you. Never. I didn't need to say those words in order for her to understand. It was then that I realized how every true my thoughts were. I would never forgive her. for what she had done. Never.
The rain continued to pour, and thunder sounded in the distance. A storm was coming, and Claire had better be ready when it did. When the lightning flashed, lighting up my former friend's tear-stained face, a single word burned fiercely in my mind: Revenge.
As the guards were leading me back to the cart, I noticed something in the woods. Two dark eyes stared at me from out of the trees. An Indian! I had to warn...but when I looked again, He was gone.
October 22, 1692
Getting over Sam's death wasn't easy. A week after the hanging, alone in my cell, I still thought I heard his voice calling to me. I realized then that I was just deluding myself. I still cried over him, but I knew I had to get over him eventually. It was too late. There was nothing I could have done to save him.
The magistrates questioned me for days about my supposed "phenomena". I answered them the best I could. I told them that I had no idea how they occurred and that they must have been some sort of strange coincidences.
After they questioned me for what seemed like the millionth time about how I supposedly made it rain the night of Sam's hanging, I remembered the Indian. He had carefully hidden in the trees, yet he had been staring at me, I was sure of it. Why me? What was I to him and his people?
I pondered whether I should have told the magistrates about him. To warn them about a possible attack by Indians, but why should I care? They had stolen everything from me. Why should I care what happens to them? They weren't my people, not anymore. Not after what they had done.
It was then that I realized that I had to get out of that prison. How I was going to do that, however, I had no clue.
I heard a crash. A light fell upon my face, and my eyes narrowed in hatred. It was Claire.
"What do you want?" I said coldly.
"Look, I know you must hate me for what I did...to him...you...your whole family. I don't expect you to forgive me...ever. I don't expect I will ever forgive myself. But at least let me help you now...please."
Her last lines almost sounded a plea.
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because I wasn't the one who wanted you and Sam killed!" she wailed. " I wanted...it's just...oh, I don't know what I want anymore! My father..." she tugged at her hair in desperation.
"Your father?" I asked skeptically.
"I don't have time to explain."
She opened the cell with a key and hustled me outside.
"I convinced the ostler to get me a horse so I could go for a "midnight ride". You don't have much time before the guards come round." she sighed. "I wish I could explain. I never meant any of this to happen."
I looked her in the face. "I want to believe you," I said softly. "But I don't."
"I'm sorry, Ava." She sobbed. "So sorry. At least know that."
I climbed onto the horse, and rode away into the night.
October 31, 1692
All Hallows' Eve--Claire and I used to scare ourselves silly with tall the legends--but I wasn't scared now. I spent more than a week barely surviving in the dark forest. Claire had salvaged some food for me for my journey--I owed her for that at least--but it didn't last long.
It was on that last day when I finished my last bit of food, that I saw him. The Indian. He was the same one I saw before...I was sure of it. He had big dark eyes and long dark hair which he wore in braids. He seemed to blend into the woods with his tan buckskin clothing.
"Wait!" I cried as he turned to leave. "Who are you and why are you spying on me?"
"I am Askuwheteau of the Cayuga." He spoke carefully, as if unsure whether I wold pull out a pistol. I t made sense. I was a white settler after all.
"I'm Ava Bennett," I said sheepishly. "Of Salem. Formerly, at least."
I stuck out my hand in friendship. He eyed it warily at first, and then decided to shake it.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ava Bennett of Salem."
"What's your explanation?" I demanded. "Why have you been spying on me?"
"I sensed your power," he said. "I have abilities, too, you see. They were gifts to me acquired from my vision quest."
"My power?" I must have sounded confused because he proceeded to explain.
His people believed that they acquired special abilities after they completed their "vision quest". He said that I had abilities too. Magic. The very word chilled me to the bone. That was what had gotten me exiled to the forest in the first place. I didn't want to to believe it. I didn't want anything to do with it. It frightened me.
November 15, 1692
To my utmost horror, I discovered that Askuwheteau was right. I did have abilities. A much as I tried to deny the fact, I couldn't hide from them. They were always there...just waiting for me to use them to my advantage...or that of others. It frightened me to discover that I could summon and control the winds. So I had been behind those phenomena back home! It was that fact that frightened me most of all. I had used my abilities without knowing it.
I soon discovered that I could not only control wind, but all types of weather. The Cayuga called me the Storm Goddess. My abilities definitely worked to their advantage. I was one of them now.
O course, they hadn't liked my being there at first. A white settler on Cayuga territory? I might betray them so my people could expand their land. In time they accepted me.
Askuwheteau was...enchanting. That is the best word I can come up with. He knew so much about the world. He also seemed to understand whenever I told him something important.
I told him everything about what happened between me and Claire.
"I want revenge," I admitted on one occasion. "I know it's wrong, but it's still there."
"I was once a slave upon an English vessel." He said. "That's how I learned English. Once I escaped, all I could think about was revenge. It changed me. I could think of nothing else. I realized that if I carried out with revenge, it would change who I was." he shrugged. "Don't let revenge take control of you."
"Maybe if you tried to forgive her," he suggested. "From what you told me, she sounded distressed over what she..."
"No." I said coldly. "I promised myself I would never forgive her for what she did."
Later that night I was struck with a surprise. As I headed back to the Cayuga camp a voice said, "Ava? Is that you?"
I froze as I saw that shock of blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. The same eyes that her brother had possessed. The traitor was back.
December 15, 1692
A month after Claire arrived at the Cayuga camp; I still wouldn't speak to her. She may have tricked the Cayuga elders into thinking she was a friend like me, but I wasn't easily fooled. I didn't want to admit I was being stubborn about the whole affair either, no matter how many times Askuwheteau pointed that out to me.
In the end, Claire was the one who approached me.
"Ava, you're being ridiculous. I wasn't sent here as an infiltrator. Sam taught me how to track...I was the one who followed you here."
"That's likely," I muttered darkly.
"Ava, listen to me." She demanded. Her tone of voice changed abruptly. "Listen. I suppose it really is my fault my brother is dead. You see, I was jealous of you."
"Jealous?" I asked, shocked. "Of me?"
That's when she told me her whole story. She'd felt neglected when Sam and I left her out of our outings. She told her father about it, but he took it too far. He'd never liked me or my family so he wanted us all dead. He hadn't been too pleased at me and Sam courting to begin with. As she told her tale I found withing myself that I believed every word. She sounded so sincere, it was hard not to. Askuwheteau was right. Maybe I could forgive her after all. She ended with a conclusion that shocked me.
"I have abilities, Ava." she confessed. "I can summon the winds can also make it rain and other such things. My father threatened to tell the magistrates about me."
January 12, 1692
I found that Claire and I could be friends again. Now we had one more thing in common. The fact that Claire and I had the exact same ability was incredible. I told her about Askuwheteau's abilities as well. The ones he had acquired on his vision quest. It made sense for a Native American to be a shape-shifter. They are so in-tune with nature.
As I came to trust Claire, so did Askuwheteau. He wasn't as trusting as the elders. He had experienced treachery before when he was an English slave.
On the first snowfall of the month, disaster struck. I was awoken by a hand over my mouth. It wasn't a copper-colored hand that I had become so accustomed to. It was white. I was dragged into the darkness. I was bound hand and foot. Then I saw Claire.
"You!" I accused. "I should never have trusted you. You brought them here. You led them right to us!"
Claire was wild eyed. "It wasn't me!" she wailed. "I swear I didn't..."
I saw then that she was bound hand and foot like me, as well as many of the Cayuga. She was a prisoner just like the rest of us.
Then I saw Askuwheteau staring at me from the forest. He had escaped! His eyes bored into mine thought. I knew then that he blamed me for this attack...for bringing Claire to his people. it was my fault that the witch-hunters had come for me. They had followed mine and Claire's footprints.
February 11, 1692
Locked up in a cell with my best friend wasn't exactly how I pictured my seventeenth birthday to be, but we manged. There were several guards guarding our cell making sure we didn't try any "tricks".
"I'll distract the guards," Claire whispered to me. "You blow the door open."
Claire then began to flirt mercilessly with the guards. Being the fools that they were, they fell for it. I began to gather the winds within my grasp in order to use them. In an instant, the cell door was blown form its sockets, trapping the guards underneath.
"Let's go." I said.
The village was in utter chaos. There were Cayuga warriors everywhere. I felt a thrill of joy. They had come to free their people.
I was then That I noticed that Claire was gone.
I found her in her father's house about ready to burst with her powers and facing her father.
He was laughing at her. "Are you going to kill me, Claire?"
"I would very much like to."
"Don't do it, Claire!" I warned. "It's what he wants."
I was right. He turned us then, grabbing a pistol from the drawer pointing it first at Claire and then at me. He pulled the trigger.
A big grey wolf came out of nowhere and knocked Claire and I to the ground. The bullet ricocheted off the wall and hit him in the chest striking him dead.
Slowly, the wolf transformed back into Askuwheteau.
"You saved us." I breathed. "After you blamed us for the attack. Why?"
"You weren't to blame." He said. "I see that now. Besides, you're worth saving."
At that, he kissed me full on the mouth. I found myself kissing him back. Maybe Sam was right. Things would be all right after all.
Gender:
Points: 1194
Reviews: 7