Page 18 of The Book of Unwritten Stories

‘Tell me why you have nothing to do? Should you not be working or moving on to wherever it is you were looking for?’ Lenora’s tone was sharp.

‘I am a traveller, Goody English; I have no work that I am tied to. I spread my magic wherever I lay my head.’

Lenora shook her head at him. ‘What does that entail, spreading your magic? Do you know if the reverend heard you speak that way you would be in the county jail before you could saddle up your horse. Thy tongue is a dangerous weapon in this place and if thou art not careful thou will stab thyself in the throat with it. They hang people around here they think are witches; to openly talk about magic will get the noose around your neck, I can promise that.’

‘We are alone, are we not? I see no Puritan do-gooder listening to our conversation. I am aware of the fondness for hanging any person who does not conform to their preachings. I would like to see them try to capture me for speaking my mind in front of three of the fairest ladies I ever did see.’

Seraphina giggled and Lenora’s head snapped around to look at her. ‘This is no laughing matter. The man is clearly deranged.’

‘Do not be so rude, sister, he is no such thing. He is a gentleman through and through.’

Lenora shook her head at Lucine. ‘He is trouble and he is going to drag all of us in to whatever mess he makes. I warn you now, this is not going to end well for any of us.’

Lenora walked inside the cabin; Seraphina shrugged at her sister and John. ‘She is right, we live in the most unfortunate place in the New World. You would do well to remember that, the both of you.’ She turned and walked inside, leaving Lucine staring after her.

‘I am sorry, I did not realise the distress I was causing your sisters. I will leave you in peace, my fair maiden. I hope to see you tomorrow, before I leave.’

He turned and walked away. Lucine did not know what to say, and she felt her heart tear a little at the loss of his presence. She wanted to run after him but knew her sisters were watching from the window. Instead, she turned and walked inside, a blackness swirling around inside of her chest that she did not know she possessed.

* * *

‘How dare you speak to me like that in front of a stranger.’

‘How dare you act so reckless and without thought. You heard the nonsense he was speaking; magic is a word that will get us all put in the county jail, and you know that.’

‘I am sorry, but he is a fine man is he not?’

Lenora had begun to chop vegetables to put in the heavy, cast-iron pot for supper, and she hacked away with enough force to get the knife stuck into the wooden counter they used to prepare their food on.

‘Fine man? Such a fine man that he is leading you astray with no care for your dignity or what the villagers will say. Do you know what will happen at the meeting house on Sunday if they find out you have been out walking in the woods, on your own, with a travelling man who talks of magic and brings cows to the door?’

Lucine glanced out of the window. She could see May, her warm brown coat in the pasture, grazing happily. ‘He brought us a single cow.’

‘That we have to milk and care for. ’Tis more work than we need.’ Lenora almost growled at her, and Lucine did not think she had seen her sister this angry in a long time.

‘Are you envious, sister?’

‘Of what?’

‘Of John paying me all his attention. When you have rotten George Corwin following you around like a sad, lost dog.’

Lenora strode across the room and without hesitation raised her right hand, the palm of it striking Lucine’s cheek with a slap that echoed around the room, stunning Lucine and Sephy who gasped in horror. All the fury had left Lenora’s eyes and instead there were tears of sorrow.

‘Lucine, I am sorry.’

Lucine shook her head, turned around and walked out of the door, walking back towards the woods. She would rather be alone than spend another moment arguing with her sisters.

FIFTEEN

SALEM, PRESENT DAY

Morana felt like a fugitive scurrying past Mrs Danby’s door up the stairs to her second-floor apartment. She had no idea what she was doing, all she knew was she wanted to have one day without the awful woman knocking on her door and threatening her with more bullshit accusations. That thought put a small smile on her lips. The air inside her apartment felt even heavier than before. Maybe she needed to burn the book, sage her space and open all the windows, be done with this madness.

There it was, the familiar knocking on her door that she knew was Mrs Danby again. She wasn’t going to open it this time and listen to her ranting at her for no good reason. Instead, she ignored her and went to her kitchen counter with her bag of ingredients.

She should have bought one of the small cast-iron cauldrons that were for sale in the shop, but it wouldn’t matter, she could use a saucepan. She placed the book of spells next to her various herbs and black candles. Next, she picked up the book and it felt as if it was thrumming under her fingertips. If Morana didn’t know any better, she would say it knew what she was about to do and was charged with so much unseen energy it would be hard to contain once she released it. Morana didn’t know this though and placed it on the counter, picked up the pen and chewed on the end of it while thinking about how to finish the spell. Feeling a little bad for adding her handwriting to the beautiful book, she began to compose the last couple of lines:

Black candle, red cotton, yarrow, rowan