Such frightening visions, Ma said.
Brushing off my hands, I went to my mothers bedside. Shall I change the dressing or wait?
Let it wait, Ma said, lifting the cloth to show me the wound. It seems to be healing.
I nodded. It does look much better. But you should sleep. You need to heal.
I will, though I fear my sleep will be haunted by more of the same dreams.
Twas but a vision of your delirium, I assured her. Now that you have no fever, your dreams will be gentle.
Síle smiled. Advice from my daughter?
I nodded. Sage advice.
12. Reversing a Spell
While Ma slept, I went down to wash at the brook, trying to think of a way to sneak off and see Diarmuid. I could not abandon Ma in her current state, not for a long period. And although I was grateful that she was healing quickly, my patience was wearing thin.
You need your da, I said, rubbing my belly as I waded in the cool shallows.
I would have to give Ma one more day. After that, perhaps I could convince Kyra or Norn to stay with her while I went to fetch the man who would become my husband.
Feeling cleansed and refreshed, I headed back to the cottage. When I came upon the main road, I spied Kyra tramping along, a basket on her arm.
I have sweet oat cakes for your ma, she said, and dreadful news for you. She took my hand and pulled me off the road. Did you cast a spell over Siobhan? Some kind of deadly potion?
I did. I squared my shoulders. After what she did to my mother, I
Im not blaming you, Kyra interrupted, but rumor has it that Siobhans younger brother has fallen ill. The boy seems to have a sleeping sickness, his breathing slowed to frightening depths, his body racked by convulsions.
I gasped. He drank the potion?
Kyra nodded sadly. The poor little thing.
I thought of Tysen, carving the bark diligently. The way he had been so proud to bear the pitcher to his sister. Id had no idea he would drink it himself. But then, he was only a childperhaps a mischievous one. I should have realized that when I handed him the death drink. I bit my lower lip, wondering if all of the death drink had gone to the wrong person. And how is Siobhan? I asked, hoping that she might have had a few sips herself.
In a fury, Kyra answered. Siobhan is telling everyone that the potion was spelled, an evil spell cast by you!
I folded my arms defensively. The cup was not marked, and no one saw me give it to Tysen. At least, I didnt think anyone saw me. Siobhan will never be able to prove her suspicions, I said.
Perhaps not, Kyra agreed. Still, tis a sad thing to see sickness in one so young.
Indeed. With every ounce of my might I wished that I could take back the spelltake it all back and restore Tysens good health. Perhaps I could.
But I didnt want to involve Kyra in this, especially now that I had dabbled in dark magick. I thanked her for the cakes and headed back to the cottage, thinking of possible spells. There was a spell intended to undo the original spellcertainly worth a try. And there was an endless variety of healing spells. Surely any combination of those would cure the boy.
Back at the cottage, Ma was asleep. I checked her for fever, then sat at the table with her Book of Shadows. After much searching I found the spell of reversal:
On the eve of the new moon I cast a spell,
And the effects I created, I must now quell.
May this spell be lifted and I now gifted with.
With good health for Tysen, I whispered aloud.
The spell called for protective stones such as amethyst or smokey quartz, and I was to use one white and one black candle for balance. I bit my lips, determined to sneak out to my sacred place in the woods as soon as night fell and save Tysen. For now I could only assemble the things I would need.
Night had fallen. Ma had been to the table to eat, but now she was back in bed again, too weak to stay up for long. Still, she was healing well. I had cleaned and dressed her wound, and it was starting to close with no redness or discharge. I was grateful that she would recover.
She dozed upon her pillow now, and I was ready to slip out and reverse the spell that had befallen poor Tysen. My tools and herbs were assembled. All that I needed was a gem-stone from Mas cupboard. I opened the cabinet door and poked about, searching for a stone with the right charge. I found a malachite, a bluish stone with bands of white. Holding it thoughtfully in my hands, I realized it would be a good stone to keep near me. Malachite was known to give wisdom, pointing one in the right direction, giving guidance. I was about to slip it in my pocket when the stone broke in half! Part of it tumbled from my hand, falling to the table with a thud.
Ma bolted up in bed. What was that? she asked.
This malachite, I told her, picking up the pieces from the floor. It broke in two!
Oh, dear Goddess! Ma exclaimed. She tried to rise from her bed, but I could see that the movement drained her.
Dont get up, Ma, I said, tucking the blanket over her. Its all right.
But its not! This has dire meaning. Malachite breaks in two to give you a warning of danger. Something terrible is going to happen, Rose!
I swallowed hard, trying to hold back my own panic. Oh, Goddess, are my dark spells coming back to me? I couldnt bear to tell Ma the truth of my worries, to admit how deep I had fallen into spells she didnt approve of.
Oh, then. it must have been predicting your accident with the arrow, I said, turning my face to the cupboard. I put the two pieces of malachite back on the shelf. Because, actually, the stone broke last week. I simply forgot to mention it to you.
It was already broken?
I could feel her fear draining away.
Well, then, lets hope you are right. Perhaps you are. She turned on her side, content to fall back asleep.
I found an amethyst in her collection, then collected the candles and herbs I had gathered. It was time to save Tysen.
Quietly I slipped out the door and started up the path. Ahead of me light spilled down the lane. What was it from? A moment later torches floated up the path, heading this way.
I recoiled in fear. What had happened? Had Tysen died already and the Vykrothes come to punish me? I backed up to the door and nearly fell inside. Ma was already up, hobbling toward me.
What is it, Rose? she asked in a hoarse voice. I sense the danger. Whats happening?
A band of people is coming, I said, rushing to stow away the things I had collected for my spell. I dont know who they are, but they are not Vykrothes.
Let us see, Ma said, shuffling painfully to the door.
I followed her out to the sea of darkness bobbing with torches and ghostly faces. In the lead the village reverend stepped forward, his mouth a slash of contempt.
What business do you have with us so late at night, Reverend Winthrop? my mother asked politely. Have you come to pay a call upon the sick, for that is what I am. A victim of a hunters arrow.
I am sorry for your hardship, Reverend Winthrop said. But I am here on a mission from the Almighty Father. I have come to take your daughter to prison, Síle. On the morrow she will be tried as a witch.
It cannot be! my mother protested.
No! I cried. I clutched my belly, buckling to my knees. A witch! How could it be that these people knew of my love for the Goddess? I had moved stealthily, attending church on Sundays and always careful not to speak of my true life around the villagers. A coldness overcame me as I stared out at them, my tears blurring their faces.
How could it be?
Upon whose order do you take her? my mother demanded.
The reverend did not answer. But someone stepped forward from the crowdSiobhan!
Upon my word! she shouted. I know her to be a witch, and I will testify against her.
No! I pleaded.Tis not fair. She hates me! She wants to have revenge!
But no one seemed to hear my cries as the men stepped forward and grabbed me by the shoulders. Brusquely they bound my wrists behind me and shoved me away from the cottage.
No! I cried, turning back to see Ma huddled at the doorway. Ma! Please!
But she merely watched me go with a stricken expression on her face. She held out a hand to me, as if I could clasp on and save myself from drowning.
But I could not. I marched off to prison, my heart hammering with fear that this was truly my death march. Because of Siobhan, I had been named as a witch. And no one, no one in the Highlands, had ever faced those charges and escaped alive.
On the morning of my trial a guard woke me and roughly ushered me into a cottage near the village center. I hoped they were bringing me to the table to break my fast, but when I saw the minister, Reverend Winthrop, along with a stout, bearded man, I reared back in fear.
Dr. Wellington is here to examine you for the mark of the devil, Rose MacEwan, said the reverend. Off with your gown.
The guard at the door crossed his arms, smiling at me.
I had never been ashamed of my body, having been raised among circles of unclad witches, but to go naked before such hostile eyes. I began to tremble. Would he realize that I was with child? If he did, twould prejudice the town against me.
I cannot, I said, folding my arms across my chest protectively.
Balderdash! the reverend shouted. He stepped forward and tore at the collar of my gown. Remove your clothes, and Ill remind you to make haste, for your trial is upon us.
No! I shrieked, trying to pull away from him. I felt like a trapped animal; there was no way out. Closing my eyes, I began to take off my gown.
I stood there naked, feeling their lust and hatred swirl around me. Something jabbed at my buttocks, and I opened my eyes to see the physician jabbing at me with a stick, as if I were chattel in a field. Keeping his distance, he touched my buttocks, my thighs, my belly, my breasts. Humiliation burned in my throat, and I closed my eyes again.
I could not tell whether he knew I was with child. At this point the mound at my belly was quite pronounced and my breasts were swollen with milk, but I wasnt sure this physician knew the realities of a womans body. His examination seemed more motivated by lust than professional interest.
And thus I began the day of my trial, naked before three peculiar men. After that I was allowed to dress and given a bowl of gruel, which I gobbled up eagerly. It was not enough food to sustain my babe, and I wondered if there would be more at lunch.
After breakfast I was dragged out to the center of our village, where I was tied rather barbarically to a hitching post. Villagers were free to assemble around me and witness the nightmare, and most of the villagers I saw every Sunday in church were in attendance. Among the faces gathered there, I saw the members of our coventhe MacGreavys, Norn, Aislinn, and the others. Ma was there, leaning gingerly on Miller MacGreavys cart. I spied Meara with two of the little ones in tow, and I wondered if she was their ma now. Kyra and Falkner were conspicuously absent, but I suspected that their parents had been fearful for their safety. If the village reverend started to get greedy, he might look for others who were guilty by association.
Standing in the center of the village, sweating under the late August sun and the scrutiny of so-called holy men, I felt horribly exposed. An alarming odor filled the air, something I could not identify. Was it a burning herb?
No, I thought, swallowing against the biting taste in my throat. Its the smell of fear. My fear.
Reverend Winthrop began talking to the crowd, telling of evils prevailing among us. I was trying to listen, trying to create a defense in my mind when I saw someone moving through the crowda lean, solid figure.
Diarmuid!
I felt my life force rising as he turned toward me. Our eyes locked, and I could feel it in the air between us. He still loved me. He had come to tell me that and to free me from these charges. He would come forward during the trial and rescue me. I closed my eyes and focused on sending him a message. Diarmuid would rescue me once again. This would all be over soon.
Youve come to save me!I told him in a tua labra. I knew you would come for me.
I waited for an answer.
But all I heard was the voice of the reverend accusing me of being a witch. Coming upon her at the brook one morning, I saw her conducting what must certainly be a pagan ritual, he said in his whiny voice.
I suddenly recalled the morning when Id heard someone on the path. The morning after Beltane, when Id slipped off my clothes for a thorough cleansing.
I was washing, I said, looking out at the crowd for validation. Do not most maidens bathe upon rising?
Without a stitch of clothing? Reverend Winthrop asked.
A few of the Presbyterians snickered, as if hed made a coarse joke.
Why do you laugh, when most of you could use a thorough cleansing in the river? Ma said, standing tall. The crowd grew silent. Or is that odor the stench of hysteria? For I have yet to see a person so accused treated fairly in these Highlands.
The minister folded his arms, appraising my mother. Woman, what is your claim here? This is a formal inquisition.
I am the mother of Rose MacEwan, and I know her to be a kind and noble child, Síle said. Her hair was covered by a modest veil, her voice filled with a fortitude that belied her injury. Whatever evil you have charged her with is false, I swear a solemn oath to that. And I charge you to release her and return her to her proper home.
It was dangerous for anyone to speak in my defense, but Ma had been willing to take that chance. In some ways, I knew I didnt deserve it. Pressing one hand against the child in my belly, I marveled at how deep a mothers love could run.
Reverend Winthrop puckered his lips, as if Síles words had left a sour taste in his mouth. These are the words of her mother, he announced formally. Although Ive yet to know a mother who clearly sees her childs true flaws.
I turned to Diarmuid and sent him an urgent message: The man shows disrespect toward my mother! I wanted to say. Step forward and set him aright! But now he was watching the reverend, pretending not to understand me.