Chapter 12

The young woman left twenty minutes later. Mary cleaned off the table, putting away candles and the other items she used to prepare the love spell. It took but a few minutes talking to her before Mary understood. The girl was fond of a certain boy in the village and wanted him to fall in love with her. When she knew what the teen-aged girl wanted, she prepared and did the spell to make the boy take notice.

Mary gave her an amulet containing an herb and a paper. On the paper was a simple three-line verse. She told the girl to recite the verse every evening for a week, and to keep the paper in the amulet which she was to wear at all times, and to be sure she was alone and safe from being disturbed when reading the verse. The spell performed at her kitchen table, with the amulet and verse, would attract him. The rest was up to the young woman.

When she finished putting things away, she stood for a minute, again thinking about Rebecca. Why did she now have such an ominous feeling? It was a fine house, and her friend was happy living there, which made her happy. So, why did she feel not all was right? Had they both missed something? If they did, what did they miss, and how did they miss it?

She thought for a moment of going to Rebecca and talking with her about what she sensed. If nothing else, it would calm her worry. It was early evening. With the tall trees blocking the sun, it would be dark when they finished talking and she was ready to leave. The morning would be better. Morning would give them more time to make plans to cleanse the house, if they decided it was necessary.

Rebecca prepared for bed. Though not frightened, she could not shake a feeling of unease. The shadow figure worried her. She realized she could be making much of nothing. Maybe it was being alone again after sharing a house with Mary for months, or maybe it was something else. During her time in Danielsford, neither she nor Mary met anyone they recognized as being a witch, and she was sure they would notice. Why would someone curse a lone house sitting by itself on the edge of the village? Who would curse it? If there was a curse.

She climbed into the bed and closed her eyes. Tomorrow was another day. She would go into Danielsford and talk to Mary. If they resolved nothing, talking to her always left Rebecca in a good frame of mind. The young healer had a way of making good from bad.

As she drifted off, she heard scratching sounds near the fireplace. She pulled the blanket tighter around her and wished she were still with Mary. Her home was light, airy, and it felt good being there.

As she drifted into sleep, Rebecca felt someone, or something, watching her. A part of her wanted to open her eyes. Another part would not let her. Then she was dreaming.

They were dreams filled with horror, pain, and fear. She was in a strange, dark, terrible place filled with fire, suffering, and torment. Tortured souls begged for a sip of water as flames consumed them. The stench of scorched flesh filled the air and made her gag.

She watched a man burn alive until nothing but ashes remained. A moment later, he was whole again, suffering again, screaming in agony as the flames seared the flesh from his body. It was his fate to repeat the horror for all eternity.

Bolting upright in bed, she gasped for air. It was a dream. A nightmare. Nevertheless, it was real enough for her to feel the heat. She knew it was a vision of hell. Why did she have such a terrible dream? What had she done to deserve to see such an awful place? Who would do such a thing? And why would they do it?

She climbed from the bed and looked around. In the pitch darkness of the room, she could see nothing. Across the room, red embers remained in the fireplace, and she used them to light a candle. It did little to comfort her, but was better than nothing.

There was only one person in Danielsford who could cause the nightmares. Rebecca fought the idea, refusing to accept the thought of her friend turning on her. They were close, like sisters. She loved Mary, and she knew Mary felt the same toward her. Was it because she moved to a house of her own? It could not be. Both knew before they came to Danielsford that each would go their own way.

No, something else was going on. She paced back and forth, trying to drive the memory of the terrible nightmare from her mind and attempting to understand what was happening in the house.

The dream would not leave, but she could sense nothing else. Still, the feeling that she was not alone would not leave.

There was something in there with her. She determined to root it out and to get rid of it, and the little healing witch in Danielsford who pretended to be a friend would not be a part. Rebecca would do it alone.

Mary lay in bed tossing and turning, until she finally gave up. She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, trying to understand what was wrong. When nothing revealed itself, she stood and walked through each room looking and listening. Everything seemed in order, and there was nothing lurking in the darkness.

Sleep was out of the question. She sat at the table, in the light of a candle, and tried to focus. Whatever it was would not reveal itself, yet she knew there was trouble somewhere and it was serious.

It had to be Rebecca and her new home, just as she thought earlier. It was something she sensed when they looked at the house, but could not discern. Rebecca was in danger, whether or not she knew it, and Mary determined to help her.