Page 23 of The Book of Unwritten Stories

‘How so?’

Dora thought that nobody could speak as gentle and beautifully as her aunt Sephy. ‘I never thought about hiding the bookstore again, and I have this awful feeling that Corwin could have found it. I used to feel as if I was being followed by an invisible force. What if he had a book of spells more powerful than Lucine’s, and what if he left it there for someone to find and they use it to bring him back? The feeling that he might have had a contingency plan is always there, hovering at the back of my mind.’

‘That is a lot of what ifs, Dora. I don’t think so, or I don’t feel that way. I mean we would know about it by now, surely. Why don’t we see if we can find it tomorrow? If it’s still there lingering in the forest, you can hide it again. You did it once, and you can do it again. I’m sure Corwin had no idea about the bookstore, surely, he didn’t.’

Dora knew Sephy was trying to make her feel better, but she couldn’t help thinking that she was right. Corwin wouldn’t have given up so easily without a backup plan and this thought terrified her beyond belief. She never wanted to fight him again, at least not in this lifetime. Once was more than enough for her.

SEVENTEEN

SALEM VILLAGE, 1676

It was almost nightfall when Lucine returned home. She had walked off her anger at Lenora and Seraphina until her boots were steeped in mud and the hem of her dress were too. She understood they wished her no harm, and it was her eternal soul they cared about. What they did not and would not understand is that Lucine would give her eternal soul up to be with John Hadden for the rest of her life. There was something about the man that made her knees weaken and her heart beat much quicker than it should.

Lenora was waiting for her, pacing the floor, wringing her hands. She grabbed hold of her as she stepped inside and held her tight.

‘I am sorry, that was uncalled for. Are you well?’

Lucine nodded. ‘Very well. I am a grown woman; I can take a slap on the cheek and make my own decisions about John. I am no fool, Lenora, as much as you wish to think of me as one.’

‘I know.’ Lenora sighed. ‘He worries me the way he talks so freely and openly about the things we must not. It seems he has no care for the Puritan way of life, and it is very foolish indeed when he is but a mouse in a nest of venomous vipers.’

‘Is it not refreshing to hear a man speak so free?’

‘Yes, ’tis also dangerous for him and for us. You must see that.’

Lucine did see, but it didn’t stop her from wanting a life where she could speak freely, with a man whom she also desired. ‘I will be careful and watch my tongue when the villagers are in the distance.’

Lenora nodded. ‘Make sure you do, sister, or we will all swing.’

‘I am sorry for what I said about Corwin.’

Lenora gave a sharp laugh. ‘You are not and I know that he is like a heavy stone around my neck. I am hoping he will find another to take his interest soon, for I would rather drown myself in the pond than spend my lifetime at his service.’

Lucine laughed. ‘Pray, let us hope that it does not come to that for either of us. Good night.’

Lenora walked to the door and opened it.

‘And where might you be going?’ Lucine asked.

‘To see to the cow, now we have her I want to make sure she is cared for.’

‘You like May.’

‘Lucine, ’tis not the cow’s fault she has ended up in our pasture. The best we can do is to take care of her. Tell thy man next time he brings you a present to make it a book full of unwritten stories to write inside of and make use of.’

Lucine laughed and watched as her sister took a pail of water for the cow to drink from and a fresh apple off the tree. She did not know if cows ate apples, but Lenora would not care. It was a scene that soothed her heart, watching her sister fuss with the cow who was staring at her with its big brown eyes as if she understood every word Lenora was cooing to her. However, she would ask John if he had such a book just to show to Lenora out of spite.

EIGHTEEN

SALEM, PRESENT DAY

Morana was exhausted after tossing and turning all night. The shock of seeing Mrs Danby bleeding out in the middle of the street was beginning to hit home. She had caused the woman’s death she was sure of it; they didn’t live in a busy area. It was a one-way street, there was not a chance she hadn’t heard the truck, so why had she run in front of it? Morana opened the trash can and poured the remnants of the banishing spell into it. She looked at the book then picked that up and threw it in as well. Then tying up the garbage bag she took it downstairs and threw it in the skip.

Mrs Danby had been loaded into the back of the ambulance and taken away. The delivery truck was still there along with the now blackened, clotting puddle of blood and bodily fluids. Morana stared at it mortified at the result of her spell. She had to turn sharply and go back into the building before anyone saw her. Mrs Danby’s front door was shut tight; the cop must have found what he needed. Morana was part horrified and part mystified by why she was feeling relief as if a dark cloud had lifted. Mean old Mrs Danby wouldn’t be knocking on her door at all hours being horrible to her for a very long time. As bad as she felt, she realised that she also felt as if she had changed the course of her life in a matter of minutes, with a few simple steps, and she wondered if throwing the book away had been a wise idea.

As she went back inside her own apartment, she wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to see the book on the kitchen counter waiting for her. Morana picked it up, but there were no tiny, colourful sparks now, it was just a book, and she wondered if it was as spent of energy as she felt.

Stroking it lovingly, she whispered, ‘I guess you’re here to stay. I hope we can become good friends. Maybe tomorrow you can show me what else you can do. Maybe, we could fix a lot of things that need fixing, together.’