“The work is exhausting and back-breaking, but I scarcely notice it…It’s good work, hard and honest, and I’d like to think that it would make her proud of me…I don’t sleep much anymore; every hour of every day I try to increase my earnings. The money is for her; every penny belongs to her, and that is how I keep going. Knowing that I do it for my goddess, so that I can give her everything she deserves, helps me overcome the blood and sweat and painfully aching muscles. Busying myself makes the time move faster—each precious second brings me closer to the day when I may once more hold her in my arms.”
~From the diary of William Wells; April 1st, 1686
~*~
After the first rains came in mid-February, the spring thaw graced the land, sending ice crystals melting away. Once the wildflowers began to bloom in the fields with specks of violet and buttercup, and when the tall green grasses peeked through the frost in early March, Elizabeth’s spirits rose. The wind retained a bitter edge, but the days were longer and warmer as rays of sunshine slipped through grey clouds. Elizabeth felt as though she could finally breathe again when she was able to spend her days outdoors instead of locked away in the house.
Small menial tasks like constructing a new garden and planting the first seedlings kept her occupied by day, but it was the nights that were the hardest. Always she laid awake, yearning for his touch and the sweet whisper of his breath. The tears finally quelled after weeks of crying herself to sleep every night. Weeping proved fruitless, and thus Elizabeth chose to put her energy to more efficient uses. The hope that William would soon return gave her the strength to rise from her bed every morning.
Her brighter outlook was aided by the fact that she felt much better physically—she was no longer so tired and dizzy; and the occasional spells of fainting and illness had all but ceased. There were other changes as well. Elizabeth’s normally tight, flat belly now had a smooth, slight roundness to its shape, while her small breasts had grown significantly fuller. She did everything in her power to keep it carefully hidden, even staying up all night on one occasion to pull the seams from her dresses. No one seemed to notice, except for one recent morning when Jenny had noted that her niece looked somehow different. You seem healthier, Elizabeth, she’d mentioned off-handedly; Your cheeks have color again. The weather is doing you good, I believe.
Elizabeth had panicked at the comment for fear that her aunt suspected, but Jenny never brought up the subject again. Inevitably everyone would know soon enough, but Elizabeth desperately hoped to conceal the truth for as long as she possibly could. The Reverend was privy to her condition, obviously, but he never once spoke of it to her or anyone else. Keeping his end of the bargain for now…She knew that he still conducted his business in the hidden cellar and occasionally rode out to the lonely field in the early morning hours; but she did not interfere in any way, even though her conscience gnawed at her for keeping silent.
Deaths and disappearances were becoming a rampant epidemic now that the guardians of the borders were gone; but the townsfolk were lost in denial now more than ever. The vanishings were ignored completely—even the witch craze had died down. It physically pained Elizabeth to join the ignorant masses, but she could do little else. Unfortunately, she simply had too much to lose now to worry over the greater good. Every day she prayed for William and Giles to arrive sooner than expected, so that she could escape this town forever.
--
As the vernal equinox approached, Elizabeth often enjoyed sitting up late beside the open window in her bedroom. One night while she leaned her elbow against the sill, she breathed in deeply, relishing in the fresh air of spring. The Odyssey lay abandoned on her lap; because she simply couldn’t lose reality in the tales of lotus eaters and the witch named Circe as she had in years past. A sweet, honeysuckle-scented breeze rustled through the oaks at the edge of the wood beyond the stables, igniting a yearning in Elizabeth to explore the wilderness again. Longingly, she thought of the beautiful view hidden deep in the woods that William had shown her last fall. Surely it must be breathtaking this time of year with the trees in bloom. The forest had been his favorite place here—where he’d felt most alive, and Elizabeth wondered if maybe stepping into that realm briefly could help her feel him close again. Perhaps she could pretend that this was just another warm eve last fall, and that she would soon go out on the hunt at his side. To feel the old paths beneath her feet…she might pretend childishly that he had merely run ahead of her in his excitement, and that if she only asked him to slow down for half a minute, he would be there…
It was foolish—beyond foolish. The woods were more dangerous now than they’d perhaps ever been, but still Elizabeth stood, her better reason not wholly communicating with her feet, and extinguished the taper candle with her forefinger and thumb before preparing to leave. On her way to the door, she paused briefly at Dawn’s bedside and brushed a lock of the sleeping girl’s dark hair back from her forehead.
“I’ll come back for you,” Elizabeth whispered, placing a light kiss on her cousin’s temple, “I’ll always come back for you.”
--
Elizabeth raced across the onion fields until her lungs burned. She had an abundance of new energy and no outlet but this to properly release it. With the brilliant sweep of stars overhead and the tall grasses kissing her fingertips, she could almost lose herself in sensation, she could almost forget…A gentle fluttering stirred deep in her belly, and it was almost familiar—like the butterflies that danced when William kissed her, like the heart-pattering chill that came when he told her he loved her...But she chose to dismiss the feeling now as her own heartbeat beneath her skin; because tonight she needed to abandon the real world, if only for a little while.
Stopping at the stables, Elizabeth chose one of the horses randomly—the brown and white gelding. She threw one leg over his back to pull herself up, not even bothering with a saddle. Her bare legs hung at the gelding’s sides as she used her ankle to nudge him on into the night. Without entirely realizing it, she began to lead the horse down the same path William had taken her on that first night, when she both feared and loathed him—the same night when she had first desired him without comprehending it. With her legs and ankles, Elizabeth coaxed the horse on to a swift gallop, so that her long hair began to pull from the loose braid and blow behind her. She crossed a muddy stream that sent chilled water splashing over her shins while the horse followed the first steep inclines of the trail. Midnight blue hills crept up in the distance, silhouetted against the clear night sky.
Time ceased to exist; nothing felt real except the wind in her hair and the thunderous clop of the horse’s hooves over the fresh earth. Higher and higher they climbed as the moon crossed the sky; and without noticing the length of the journey, Elizabeth suddenly found herself in a familiar place. Instead of instilling fear, the sight of the jagged stones in the burying ground caused a lump to swell in her throat. She remembered sitting there with William and Giles, talking of nothing while they waited for vampires. She didn’t realize it then, how precious time could be, how beautiful simple nothings really were.
And then after rounding the brow of a slight hill—there it was: Raven Pond—still and calm now that the winter storms had passed. She led the gelding to the post near the cove, all the while keeping her eyes away from the cabin. After she dismounted and secured the animal, Elizabeth willed herself to look across the black water to where the cabin stood, dark and desolate. She might have gone inside, laid in his bed, savored the scent and memory of him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The thought of those rooms that had once held such sweetness and warmth in her memory, now quiet, barren, and empty…it was simply too much to bear. And William’s belongings still there without him—Elizabeth almost lost her breath thinking of it. So instead she strolled along the water, occasionally pausing to skip a pebble off the pond’s glittering surface. Despite the late hour, she heard the calls of blackbirds overhead. Their raven wings passed through the trees, inky shapes flickering through rays of moonshine.
A clump of pink and white wildflowers grew on the bank nearby, and Elizabeth smiled at their serene beauty, picking several into a bouquet. Admiring their loveliness, she knew then where she wanted to take them, but hesitated at the idea. There was a place in the woods nearby; and though William had never taken her, he’d occasionally spoken of it on those late nights when he’d allowed her to see tiny pieces of his heart that he kept locked away. It was a place he hardly visited himself, a place he’d abandoned months before. Six stones in a circle, through a path behind the cove…After deciding that he wouldn’t mind, Elizabeth took the flowers in her arms and started into the woods.
The stones lay in the precise array he’d described. She thought she’d feel something more, finally being here—perhaps feel closer to her, but the air was empty. No spirits lingered any longer. Kneeling before the circle, Elizabeth arranged the flowers on the grave as best she could.
“I wish you were here,” she spoke softly to the stones, “Maybe then you could help me understand what I am—what we are, what’s to come. I wish I had some idea…I’m alone, Susan. I want to be strong like you, but…If you could show me what to do—“
Elizabeth stiffened as a chill crawled up her spine. There was something with her in the darkness—watching, waiting. She could hear the rustle of its footfall accompanied by a distant, cruel laughter. Spinning around quickly, Elizabeth peered into the black depths of the forest. Her heart rate nearly tripled and her hands shook as she chastised herself for such foolishness. This escape from reality had been careless, and she was only just now realizing how imprudent it was. Naturally her instinct was to cry out to William to help her out of whatever mess she might be tangled in, but she was entirely alone; no person to rely on but herself.
“Who’s there?” she called into the night.
Her voice rang and reverberated in the silence like a musket shot.
“I said who’s there?! Show yourself!” she cried.
Her eyes skittered across the ground in search of a weapon. What is wrong with me?! I didn’t even think of defending myself.
“Come near me, and I’ll kill you,” she hissed, trying to ignore the raw fear creeping into her throat.
Waiting and seeing nothing was the worst. Her skin crawled, so she knew that whatever it was drew closer. I can’t see it. Oh God I can’t see it. I’m not her. I thought I could be, but I can’t.
In the blink of an eye, icy fingers clamped over her throat. She hadn’t even sensed its approach. Automatically, Elizabeth jabbed her elbow back sharply, and the thing released its death clutch. Whipping around to face her opponent, she found herself staring on cold, copper eyes, a high, ridged forehead, and pointed teeth that gleamed in the moonlight. He was once a colonial, judging from his suspenders and cloak. Vampire. Just a vampire. He reached for her again, eyes hovered on the throbbing pulse at her neck, but Elizabeth reacted hastily, kneeing him in the gut and bringing her clasped hands slamming down into his back. ‘Most important thing to remember here is power. You gotta know how to use it, and you hafta recognize who has it’ She heard William’s voice as though he stood directly behind her.
“He has it,” she breathed in reply.
The vampire collapsed as she had anticipated, but not before grabbing her ankles and pulling her down with him. Elizabeth struggled in a hopeless effort to get away, but his grip was incredibly powerful as he clawed at her legs and tore her nightdress. Flipping onto her side, Elizabeth curled away from her attacker to shield her belly from the blows of his fists. Frantically, her hands searched the ground for anything she might use against him, and when her fingers at last curled around the sharp piece of cedar branch, Elizabeth felt convinced that it was a gift from someone looking down on her.
The vampire seized one of her wrists; and with his other hand, he viciously pried her thighs open.
“Fear smells real good, sweet girl. I’m gonna enjoy this,” he jeered.
“Not as much as I will,” Elizabeth growled.
She jerked the hand up that had been cradling her belly and drove the piece of wood into the creature’s chest. The immediate explosion of dust made her recoil, and she accidentally inhaled a large quantity of it, causing her to choke and gag as she carefully sat up. Elizabeth looked down at herself and hurriedly brushed away the remaining dust in revulsion. After her coughing fit subsided, she inhaled deeply to try to control the frantic beating of her heart. The fluttering in her belly returned more forcefully than she’d ever felt it before, almost as though her little passenger could understand its mother’s unease.
“Shhh it’s all right now. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered, smoothing her hands gently over the swell of her abdomen, “You’re safe. I won’t let anything hurt you. Not ever.”
--
“Where do you go at night?”
Elizabeth froze, nearly dropping the basket from her grasp. She and Dawn had been walking side-by-side along the road into town in a tense silence. Jenny had requested a few odds and ends at the general store, and since it was such a lovely morning, both girls had eagerly volunteered to go.
“What are you talking about?” Elizabeth scoffed as she quickly looked away from her cousin’s curious eyes, “I go nowhere.”
“You know, Lizzie, there was once a time when you never lied to me. You used to trust me.”
“What are you—Of course, I trust you. I wouldn’t…”
“You’ve scarcely spoken a word to me since you first returned! What happened? We used to be close.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath, her pace quickening.
“Of course I wouldn’t,” Dawn mocked sharply, “I’m just a child, right? A child knows nothing of the world.”
Elizabeth sighed as she felt a twinge of guilt, “Some things…I just can’t tell you.”
“You told me that you loved him…and now he’s gone. I mean—you said that old man was after you before he helped Mr. Wells escape, but…you helped him, didn’t you? You helped them both get out.”
Elizabeth shut her eyes tightly before stopping at the roadside. Grabbing her cousin’s arm, she glared intensely into Dawn’s eyes until the young girl dropped her gaze uncomfortably.
“Dawn, listen to me.”
“Ow, you’re hurting me!”
“You must never speak of this again, do you understand me?” she snapped.
“Yes. Yes! Let go!”
Elizabeth released a shuddering breath as she loosened her grip. Dawn’s bottom lip trembled, as though she were struggling to hold back tears.
“I just…I just want to know what’s wrong with you, that’s all. You’re—you’re different,” Dawn said shakily, scarcely controlling her sobs, “You’re so different now than you once were…And you cry all the time, and I wish I understood why. I know you don’t want to be with us—with me…Sometimes I wake up at night, and you’re gone. And I’m always so scared, because I wonder if that might be it. I wonder if maybe you’ve run away for good, and I’ll never see you again…You’re here, but it’s as if you’re someplace else entirely. I wish I could help you, but all you do is avoid me.”
Her own throat tightening with the threat of oncoming tears, Elizabeth gently placed the basket on the muddy ground beside her feet and enveloped her cousin in her arms.
“Dawn,” she murmured softy, delicately stroking the young girl’s back, “I am different. I’ve grown up, I suppose; and I can never again be who I was before…I can’t tell you everything, because I have some important people to protect. It doesn’t mean that I don’t trust you, or that I don’t love you. And I promise that no matter what, I will never abandon you.”
“Really?” she asked meekly, removing her head from Elizabeth’s shoulder to look up with large, teary blue eyes.
“Of course,” Elizabeth answered, offering a small smile as she gently wiped her thumb across Dawn’s damp cheek.
Their moment of reconciliation was instantly interrupted as a torrent of buggies and horses clamored over the hill from the north, presumably on their way into town. Taking Dawn’s hand swiftly, Elizabeth pulled her into the grass beside the road to avoid the sudden crowd.
“What’s going on? Is there an open market today?” Dawn nearly shouted over the turning of wheels on cobblestone and galloping hooves.
“No, I don’t think so,” Elizabeth replied, wrinkling her nose in perplexity.
As the first passers-by hurried on ahead, Elizabeth took a step into the road and raised her arm to flag a buggy. The middle-aged, heavily bearded man who drove the cart pulled his horses to a halt when he spotted the two girls looking on.
“Troubles, ma’am?” he asked politely, though clearly aggravated at being detained.
“No, no,” Elizabeth answered, shielding her eyes from the glare of the morning sun with her hand as she squinted to look up at him, “My cousin and I were simply taking a stroll in to town when we spotted the commotion, and I am only wondering what has brought such a large group of hurried travelers.”
“You haven’t heard?” the man gasped.
“Heard what?”
“There’s gonna be an execution today. Some foolish woman got herself convicted of witchcraft after a group of girls were seen dancing in the woods. They accused the witch of making ‘em do it—made their bodies move by the will of the Devil, they said. She failed all the trials. Floated in water and weighed against the bible, I hear.”
“Who?” Elizabeth growled through gritted teeth, her jaw clenched.
“If it happens, it’ll be Wethersfield’s first execution in thirty years!”
“Who is she?!”
“Goodwife Meers, I believe,” the man answered, taken aback by the venom in Elizabeth’s voice.
“Oh my God,” Dawn uttered hoarsely from behind them, “Tara. Elizabeth—it’s Tara.”
“No,” Elizabeth murmured, “Sorry to disappoint you, sir; but no one is dying today.”
“Lizzie…It’s Tara. It can’t happen to Tara,” Dawn whimpered, clinging to her cousin’s arm.
“It’s not going to happen to her,” she said icily as she strode down the road, dragging the young girl behind her.
--
Elizabeth pushed through the large, raucous crowd assembling before the front stairs of Town Hall. Tara stood before the great double doors with two men restraining her. Wide-eyed and glazed, the young woman appeared to be in a state of numb, terrified shock.
“She didn’t do it!” a man hollered from the front of the crowd, “My wife is innocent!”
Elizabeth scanned the large group until she saw the man who she presumed was Mr. Warren Meers, struggling against several townsfolk who forcefully held him back from the stairs.
“She’s a sweet, soft-spoken woman, and she’s got a good heart. Emma’s the liar—girl’s just trying to save her own skin! Please—Tara!” he cried.
As Elizabeth returned her focus to Tara, she noticed a tall man dressed all in black, pacing behind the gathering at the entrance of the hall. Nathaniel! I’d love to kill that bastard.
“Silence! All of you!” the magistrate bellowed as he burst forth from the front doors with a piece of parchment tucked beneath his arm, “This woman is a convicted witch—her sentence may not be altered. Unless, Goody Meers, you confess your sins openly before this assembled group. You must admit your witchery, sign a statement, and name another of Satan’s followers. He no doubt has several disciples in this town. All you must do to live, woman, is name one of these followers whom you have witnessed engaging in demonic ritual. Only one….Well, do you wish to live or not?”
“I—I—I wish to live,” Tara whimpered meekly, her eyes rapidly scanning the crowd, though she didn’t appear to see anything.
“Very good. Then let us begin your confession. Goody Meers, have you committed the crime of witchcraft?”
“But—no, I didn’t do—“
“Goody Meers, we can just as easily escort you to the gallows in the yard behind the hall, if you would prefer.”
“No! No, please no…I—I…yes. I have c—committed the crime of witchcraft.”
“Damn it!” Elizabeth seethed, enraged by the disgusting lie.
“Splendid. Will you sign the confession?” the magistrate continued.
“Yes,” Tara nearly whispered.
“Do you repent the sins you have committed?”
“Yes…I want to be right with God.”
“Then you shall be. Now tell me,” he asked, his voice dripping with syrup and causing Elizabeth to feel the need to vomit, “Who else did you see? Who did these things with you?”
“Noboby! There was n—no one else. Just me, sir.”
“Goody Meers, your confession is meaningless unless I can get a name.”
“But, I can’t—“ Tara cried.
“Live or die? Your life is in your hands now—“
“I didn’t see anybody—“
“I’ll give you just one more chance before—“
Tara’s frightened, tearful gaze once more swept the faces of the crowd. Briefly, her large, sad eyes locked with Elizabeth’s as she drew in a shuddering breath to answer. Elizabeth could only stare at her intensely and shake her hand, silently pleading with the other woman not to do it—not to continue propagating a vicious untruth.
“I’ll do it! I’ll name someone…I’ll do it…”
“Who did you see with the Devil, Goody Meers?”
“I saw Elizabeth Summers with the Devil. Her name was written in his book.”
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