Post by StoryGirl83 on Dec 13, 2013 19:56:44 GMT -5
Chapter Twenty-Five - The Weak Link
Flashback
With Young Rachel, Young Miriam, Young Elizabeth, Mr. Kensington, Kirkland
Flashback
With Young Rachel, Young Miriam, Young Elizabeth, Mr. Kensington, Kirkland
10:33 AM (1:33 PM in Duxbury)
The deep voice caused everyone to start and spin around or look up passed the circle, everyone except Rebecca. A smile curved her lips as she turned around to greet her husband. “Patrick.”“I cannot stay long,” he warned her, his ghostly eyes appearing not to see anyone except his wife, not even his three children. “Although you have weakened it, the spell around this place and around you will not allow me to remain more than a few minutes.”
“Papa?”
Sam’s query caught his father’s attention. “Samuel?”
Arielle felt like laughing at the pleased look on Sam’s face.
“I hate to do this,” Paige interrupted, “but more people are getting affected every minute and more people are dying all the time. We’ll figure out how to get you two back together after we stop this. Do you know what’s going on?”
Patrick’s expression turned solemn as he looked at her and nodded.
“Can you tell us anything useful? How to stop this? How this started?”
He was silent for several moments and then nodded. “Perhaps. After my death, I could not contact my wife in anyway and although I could move on, I feared what Elisa would do next, so I followed her.”
“That sounds creepy,” Cilly commented. “She didn’t strike me as very sane.”
Patrick shook his head. “No, I would not say that she was. I had to keep a distance since her spell only prevented my family from seeing me. It did not prevent other witches from seeing me and they most definitely were witches.”
"No! Absolutely not!"
Patrick saw Elisa frown as she approached the clearing. Apparently even she was affected by the fury and vehemence in her older brother's voice. He wondered what had angered William Richmond.
"I will not participate in this, Mother," William snarled.
Since he knew where Elisa was going and didn't need to watch her very closely at the moment, Patrick moved on ahead of Elisa. There was something nice about being able to move through matter, but he would have gladly given it up to be alive, again, to be with his wife and sons.
The first thing he saw when he entered the clearing was a rickety old house, one he hadn't seen before despite having been around much of the forest. Perhaps, he simply hadn't been around enough, but surely no one had lived here in Duxbury long enough to have abandoned a house that long.
The second thing he saw was William, furiously glaring at his mother "Goodwoman" Richmond. How could he miss William, when it was William he sought?
But his eyes didn't stay on William for more than a moment, for the third thing he saw, the thing he realized was causing William's anger, was a body, a tiny body dressed in a dress made of familiar cloth. Knowing they could see him, he couldn't get too close, but a horrible thought flooded him as he stared at the dress. It wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t possible.
“That child is barely older than Rachel. She can’t be older than Deborah or Jessica at the very most.” William looked across clearing at his younger brother, George. “George, doest thou really wish to involve your daughters in this?” His eyes caught those of his older sister, Goody Michaels. “Doest thou really mean to use your children for this?”
“I want immortality, William,” Goody Michaels snapped at him. “This will give us that. And it will give our children that as well. Thou should think on that, brother.”
William shook his head. “No. No, this crosses the line, Marie. I will not participating in this. I will not involve myself in a ceremony that sacrifices the blood of babies and that forces babies to involve themselves.”
Patrick was a little stunned when William turned around and headed toward town, toward Patrick.
“Stop!” Goody Richmond yelled. “Come back here.”
Stopping, William turned around and looked at his mother. “I said no.” Only half of his face was visible to Patrick with the way he was standing, but it was pretty clear that he was furious. “I’m out of this. If this is what you want, then forget it, Mother. I don’t care how much you think you need her, Rachel is just a baby. You are not using my daughter in this.”
“We need her,” his mother informed him, a cold steel threading through her voice. She softened her tone as she added, “She needs only repeat a few words, but we won’t have enough people to cast this spell without her.”
“Says Marie.” William glared at his sister.
“Says me,” Goody Richmond snarled, drawing his attention back to her. “There is more power in spells cast in certain numbers. Without her there are only twelve of us. Without you it drops down to eleven. We need thirteen to make this work.”
“I don’t think you get it,” William snapped. “I. Saw. Us. Die. Cast a smaller spell. My daughter won’t be involved in this.”
Patrick wondered what had actually happened in this vision of Williams. Death was not something to be courted, but it didn’t usually create this reaction. And if immortality was what they sought, then how was the seeking of it going to get them killed?
“’Tis such a shame,” his mother scoffed. “Thou thinks this a game.”
“I know ‘tis not a game, mother,” William reminded her, “but I don’t want my daughter involved. I won’t let her be the victim of what I saw.”
“Do please be still,” his mother growled at him. “Just heed my will.”
Patrick blinked in surprise. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was casting a spell on her son and he didn’t even notice it.
“Mother?” William asked confused. He may not have noticed it, but her words made no sense to him.
“Allow me to be heard,” Goody Richmond continued, “and lend us Rachel’s word.”
“Of course, Mother,” William agreed, his voice suddenly calm and relaxed. “I will need to get her.”
“No need,” his mother assured him as she looked toward the opening to the woods. “Louisa has brought her.”
Patrick looked toward where Goody Richmond was looking and say Goody Chambers entering the clearing with her young son, Charles.
Holding on to Charles’ hand was little Rachel Richmond. She was sucking on her thumb and looking up at her cousin.
As they entered the clearing Charles looked at his mother confused. “Ma, why is there a girl lying on that table?”
Goody Chambers smiled down at her son. “Never you mind that, Charles. We have a very special spell to cast and I want you to do something for me.”
“Rachel,” William called to his daughter. “Come here.”
The little girl dropped Charles’ hand and ran to her father. “Papa, Mama sick.” She slapped her hands to her chest and made a gagging face followed by a couple of very fake coughs.
A giggle from Goody Michaels’ oldest, Miriam, caught a glare from Rachel who wrapped her arms around William and waited to be picked up.
“Sick,” Rachel repeated once she was up in William’s arms.
“Enough of that,” Goody Richmond called as she approached Miriam. “Miriam, be a dear and hold these for your mother.”
“Yes, Grandmama,” Miriam looked down at the basket Goody Richmond held out to her. “Flowers, Grandmama?”
“For the ceremony. You’re mother explained it to you?”
The girl nodded quickly. “Oliver, Jessica, and I want to help.”
“Very good.”
As Goody Richmond busied herself and her offspring with various tasks, Patrick carefully made his way around the edge of the clearing, trying get a better view of the girl on the alter. There was little doubt in his mind what he would find if he could get close enough, but that little doubt was enough to keep him moving.
He didn’t know how long he tried, but nothing seemed to work. When everything in the clearing seemed to still and tension suddenly rose to the point where he noticed it, he began to fill with his own apprehension.
“’Tis time to begin,” Goody Richmond announced to her children. “She has arrived on her own.”
The breath Patrick no longer had tugged at his chest as he realized exactly what she meant. He didn’t have to look to know she was there, but look he did and his heart plummeted. Not only was his Rebecca there, but in her arms was their defenseless baby son.
Rebecca clearly understood there was danger, for she started to move away. She didn’t get far before she fell to the ground causing him to desperately wish to aid her, but he had no idea how. He was a ghost. She couldn’t see him and he couldn’t even . . .
“I wouldn’t if I were you.”
Patrick groaned and turned around. Goody Richmond’s oldest daughter, Goody Michaels stood there licking her lips.
“My sister’s going to slice your wife up and there’s nothing you can or will do about it.”
“And my daughter? Why is her body here?”
“Oh, you like that?” She looked disgustingly pleased about that.
Until that moment there had been some doubt, but her words erased it. Why would anyone get a body from under the sea just to do this?
“Do you have any idea how many bodies there are buried at sea, both on purpose and because of shipwrecks. I was unsure if I was going to find the right body. Really, this is better. She’ll get a proper burial this way. Burials at sea are so uncivilized.”
“Marie, now is not the time,” Goody Richmond called to her daughter.
“Stay out of sight,” Goody Michaels ordered him. “I can’t vanquish you. Only a ghost can vanquish a ghost, so this will have to do.” She heaved in a breath and chanted, “Lock this ghost up tight. Keep him from aiding her plight. ‘Til our victim’s found. Keep him tightly bound.”
Instantly he felt magical binds close in around him. He was helpless as a few minutes later Goody Michaels’ four younger siblings returned with his wife. And if he thought he saw Elisa enjoying this a little more than was even normal for someone like her or if he thought he saw William cringe every so often, there was naught he could do. He could no more save William from the fate his mother had chosen for him, from the life of evil he was clearly destined for, then he could save his darling Rebecca from any of them.
The night passed in silence, seeming as if it was never going to end. Morning came and went and then someone screamed.
He would have done anything to have saved the girl from finding their bodies. The Kensington’s older daughter, Elizabeth, didn’t stop screaming until she was safely in the arms of her father, but it wasn’t Elizabeth who caught his attention. It wasn’t her father either. It was the other man who entered the clearing with Goodman Kensington that caught his attention.
Kirkland Owens sent the Kensingtons back and said he’d guard the bodies. The moment they were out of sight he walked straight over to Patrick, his eyes narrow. “’Tis not a normal death thou’s wife suffered here. What happened, Patrick Warren? Who are thou and thou’s family and what hast thou brought on us?”
“Thou has it all wrong,” Patrick glared at him. “This was not my doing. In case you were absent, I’m dead. The town hung me for a crime I did not commit, but thou refuses to listen.”
“I am not a simpleton, Goodman Warren,” Goodman Owens assured him. “I know thou didn’t hurt thou’s wife, but this is no simple murder. ‘Tis a witch’s alter. What happened here? Who are thou?”
“I am a simple man,” Patrick began to protest, before stopping. “This doesn’t matter. I am as normal a man as I thought thou to be, but clearly thou art more than a normal man. I suppose like my wife and those who did this to her, thou art a witch.”
He did not let Goodman Owens answer as the words of the night before registered. “They did something to the water! You have to warn people. They did something. They used my wife and daughter’s lifeblood to do something to the water, to curse it.”
Annoyance and suspicion turned to fear. “Who did something? Who did this? And why?”
“I don’t know why, but they poisoned the water for mortals to drink. You have to warn them.”
“Who? Who did this?”
“The Richmonds. Didn’t I already say that?”
“You didn’t,” Goodman Owens denied as horror covered his face. He swore before breathing the one name Patrick dreaded above all others. “Elisa Richmond. She was handing out water to those searching for your wife to drink. We should have known something was up when the little creature was being kind to us. She is never kind.”
Patrick felt his heart drop. That meant … but he couldn’t even contemplate the results that might invoke. Before he could say anything else Goodman Owens ran off leaving him to wonder what would happen next.
He returned some time later with his head drooping. “What do I do about this? How can I stop this?”
There was no response that seemed to work.
“What doest thou remember of what they did? Perhaps something they did can help?”
Had it helped? Patrick didn’t know. He only knew that half of the village had died.
“William didn’t want his daughter involved. I’m not sure he wanted any of the children involved, but definitely not his daughter. She was only two at the time and he was pretty furious when his mother suggested it.”
“William did not seem to have a problem involving himself,” Rebecca protested. “He helped trap me. And his daughter was there. If he was so furious that his mother wished her there, then why did he allow that?”
“He didn’t,” Patrick looked down at his little daughter. “He even tried to leave entirely, but his mother cast a spell on him. She wanted her thirteen witches and she wasn’t letting her son’s conscious steal that from her. He’s your weak link. I don’t know if that information is of any use to you especially since all the time that has passed has likely changed him entirely, but he’s definitely your weak link. Chip at it if you get the chance.”