Ch. 5: The Other Green Lady

Back to Arheled

             Travel   wasn’t   available   for   what   she   sarcastically   called   “Ronnie’s   grilling   trip”   until   Friday,   the   23rd,   which   the   calendar   marked   as   both   the   equinox   and   the   first   day   of   autumn. After   school. That   way   she’d   have   all   weekend   to   do   her   homework. She   looked   forward   with   some   anticipation   to   getting   home,   therefore,   and   was   the   first   one   off   the   bus. Ben   got   down   behind   her. The bus   doors   shut   and   it   sighed   and   clanked   into   action.

             “Um,   hey,   sorry   about   the   other   day.”   said   Ben.

             “It’s   all   right. It’s   kind   of   flattering   to   get   passed   at,   but   I’m   just   not   used   to   having   it   happen.”   she   giggled.

             “Thanks.”   Suddenly   his   eyes   narrowed. “Who   the   f—   is   that?”

             Looking   down   the   road   toward   Colebrook   Travel   made   out   the   old   dark-blue   pickup   of   Ronnie   Wendy. “Oh,   that   looks   like   Ronnie.”   she   said. “Sorry,   my   friend,   Ronnie   Wend—is   something   wrong?”

             “Oh—um—no,   but   I   think   I’d   better   go,   huh? Hey,   babe,   it   was   nice   seeing   you,   huh? See   you   Monday!”   and   he   headed   off   at   a   fast   walk. Ronnie   pulled   up.

             “Looks   like   I   timed   it   perfect.”   he   drawled. “Who’s   that,   your   busmate?”

             “He’s   certainly   not   my   mate! But   yes,   he   shares   my   stop.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Ronnie’s   eyes   gave   a   brief   gleam   of   red. “Don’t   trust   him.”   he   said   flatly. “This   far   off,   I   can’t   tell—he’s   hiding   pretty   good—but   I’m   almost   certain   I   see   dragon   in   him.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             She   shivered. “Well,   the   next   time   he   passes   at me   I’ll   squash   him   really   good.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   want   to   take   my   car   or   yours?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Travel   gave   a   humerous   glance   at   the   dusty   seat   of   the   old   truck. “At   least   you   emptied   it.”   she   said. “And   I   see   you   had   enough   sense   to   come   up   from   Colebrook   instead   of   over   Smith   Hill—that   goes   like   straight   down.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Yeah,   that’s   cause   it’s   part   of   the   old   North   Road. They   wanted   a   straight   line   to   Albany,   NY,   so   they   went   right   up   the   nearest   hill   and   down   the   other   side. You   coming   in,   or   you   want   to   stop   at   the   house?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “This’ll   do.”   she   said,   hopping   in. He   actually   had   a   running   board   under   the   door. “I   called   Dad   and   told   him   I’d   be   studying   after   school   at   a   friend’s   house,   and   he   said   ‘Let   me   guess. A   guy?’   and   I   sort   of   giggled   and   he   says,   ‘All   right,   be   home   by   midnight   and   mind   the   Lord.’ “

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “So   he   thinks   you’re   on   a   date.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Well,   I   don’t   know   that   you   could   call   a   teleporting   marathon   session   exactly   romantic.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Especially   as   I’m   supposed   to   be   going   out   with   Carlee.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Oh,   that   reminds   me,   how   is   that   going?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Well,”   said   Ronnie,   “we   did   have   that   one   date,   and   we’ve   gone   out   once   or   twice,   and   we   talk   a   couple   times   a week,   but   she’s   booked   till   October. We’re   hammering   out   another   date,   though.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “That’s   good. I’m   glad   I   brought   her   that   day.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Ronnie   glanced   sideways   at   her. “I   bet   you   engineered   the   whole   thing.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I…think   you’re   overestimating   my   generalship   skills.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Right. Well,   try   teleporting   that   rock   over   there.”   He   pointed   to   a   big   boulder   sunk   in   the   earth.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   mind   pulling   over?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Hurry   up,   it’s   almost   past.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Travel   groaned. Blue   light   flickered   in   her   eyes   and   the   rock   vanished.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Where   did   you   send   it?”   Ronnie   said   dryly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Umm…I   didn’t   really   think   about   it…”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Ronnie   hit   the   brakes. The   rock   was   resting   in   the   road   ahead   of   them. “That’s   rather   what   I   thought.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Travel   teleported   the   rock   back   into   the   field   with   a   red   face. “Bad   grades.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Now   that   tree.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “It’s   freakin’   planted!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             He   didn’t   say   anything,   and   Travel   sighed   and   put   out   her   power   upon   the   tree. A   hole   appeared   in   the   earth,   and   some   distance   away   an   uprooted   tree   suddenly   appeared   in   the   middle   of   the   field. Then   he   had   her   teleport   it   back,   while   he   drove   on. She   almost   bungled   that,   but   by   keeping   very   clear   images   of   where   she   wanted   what   to   go,   she   managed   it. Next   he   had   her   teleport   another   tree’s   trunk   but   not   the   rest   of   it,   and   then   individual   limbs   of   other   trees. She   was   surprised   to   find   herself   getting   better   and   better,   and   actually   enjoying   it.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I’ve   got   to   head   over   to   the   Green   Lady   Cemetary   soon.”   said   Ronnie. “That   story   always   troubled   me. I   want   to   see   just   what   was   the   truth.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “I   thought   you   went   there.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “There   are   two. The   one   I   meant   was in   Burlington.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             They   descended   off   the   high   crest   of   Smith   Hill   with   its’   vast   panorama   of   far   hills   seen   across   the   sloping   fields,   and   trees   shut   them   in   again. They   rounded   some   charmingly   sharp   turns,   passing   old   pleasant   houses   overhung   by   maples   now   showing   sullen   shadows   of   dull   reds   and   crumpled   yellows   among   the   green.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Fall   color   stinks   this   year,”   he   said   as   the   road   descended   in   great   curving   loops. That   damp   spring   put   fungus   on   the   leaves   and   now   they’re all   curling   up.”   He   pulled   over   to   the   side   abruptly. Ahead   a   steep   descent   ran   down   to   the   traffic light   at   Rt. 8.   “Clear   line   of   sight. All   right,   Travel,   take   my   truck   to   the   light.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Umm…oh   gosh…are   you   sure,   I…”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Deep   breaths. Relax. You   can   do   it.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Travel   was   absolutely   sure   she   couldn’t. Her   stomach   began   tightening   like   a   fist. What   if   she   left   part   of   the   truck   behind? What   if   she   dropped   Ronnie,   or   overshot   her   target?

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “You   got   us   out   of   Brooke’s,   didn’t   you?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Travel   shut   her   eyes. Blue   flickered   behind   her   lids. She   opened   them,   startled. For   an   instant   she   had   felt   a   sort   of   power   just   in   reach,   like   a   flood,   a   flood   of   blue   light   behind   her   mind. Closing   them   again   she   opened   the   hand   in   her   mind,   running   it   over   the   pickup,   then   thought   about   the   traffic   light.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Told   you   you   could   do   it!”   Ronnie   was   shouting. Her   eyes   flew   open. The   truck   was   now   parked   at   the   light. “Now   again.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Again? Feeling   weird   all   over,   Travel   sent   her   hand   into   that   blue   glow   behind   her   mind,   felt   it   in   her,   part   of   her,   like   a raging   river   of   might,   and   with   the   hand   in   her   mind   she   gripped   the   truck   and   everything   in   it. Certainty   replaced   dread. She   could   go   anywhere.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Take   us   to   the   Green   Lady   Cemetary.”   she   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             They   were   no   longer   in   the   world.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   blue   fire   bore   up   the   pickup   like   a   ship   on   the   sea. Outside   the   windows   shapes   too   fantastic   to   identify   whirled   past   and   around   in   no   particular   order   or   direction. They   felt   a   sense   of   immeasurable   ages   cascading   through   and   by   them,   as   if   at   any   moment   they   might   find   themselves   ten   thousand   years   old,   or   none. It   was   like   when   Travel   had   gone   swimming   in   a   big   waterfall   once,   and   the   current   smashed   down   on   her   from   all sides,   maddening,   leaving   no   form   direction,   exhilarating   and   terrible.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Reaching   old   maples   caught   them. They   were   in   suspense,   unable   to   think,   only   to   watch. The   truck—if   they   were   still   in   the   truck;   its’   windows   never   registered   on   their   eyes—was   gliding   with   a   ghostlike   silence   down   a   paved   country   road,   surfaced   with   tiny   stones   pressed into   tar. Sand   hills   sloped   around   them;   short   white   pines,   streaked   with   yellowing   needles,   and   thick   soft   forests   of   their   seedlings,   mingled   with   white   oak,   low   and   crabbed,   and   tangled   maple. Rusty   yellow-brown   and   green   filled   the   air. They   drifted   past   a   sad   eerie   swamp,   a   clay   swamp   with   thick   clumps   of   yellowing   alder   and   frosty-green   winterberry,   rank   swamp   grass   between. A   sandy   creek   wound   through   it:   Bunnel   Brook,   they   knew   the   name   by   instinct. Ash   leaned   over   the   margin,   and   far   off   a   ridge   of   tall   white   pines   closed   in   the   view.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             They   came   to   a   roadmeet. A   lonely   road   headed   uphill   to   the   right,   into   more   sad   forests,   and   their   road   curved   left. Yellowing   locusts   closed   in,   and   the   cloudy   day   gave   the   place   an   intolerable   loneliness   of   atmosphere. It   felt   forsaken,   a   desolate   place,   an   avenue   for   ghosts. The   old   buildings   of   a   camp,   painted   white   and   littered   with   fallen leaves,   shut   up   for   the   winter,   lent   nothing   to   improve   it. It   seemed   all   at   once   that   the   camp   had   been   deserted   not   for   months   but   for   decades. A   dirt   road   came   in   on   the   left,   straight   and   broad   and   closed   with   cement   blocks,   and   the   truck   drifted   down   this,   and   they   could   only   watch.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Two   hundred   yards   past   the   waymeet,   a   stone   wall   appeared   beside   the   road   upon   the   right,   and   behind   that   wall   a   square   open   field. The   truck   moved   no   farther. Here   was   the   burying   place   of   those   forgotten   ones,   the   unlucky   people,   harassed   by   accident   and   by   malice   until   only   this   remained,   broken   stubs   of   graves   like   sad   teeth. Not   a   single   stone   among   them   remained   whole. Woods   enclosed   it,   far   from   houses,   a   remote   place   at   the   world’s   end. Crumbly   yellow   and   brown   mingled   with   fading   green   colored   the   forest. Great   maples   ringed   the   field,   bowed   and   stunted   with   age,   reaching   branches   groping   downward. Along   the   eastern   and   widest   side,   against   the   road,   there   were   five. One   maple   stood   in   each   corner. The   south   side   and   the   west   side   each   had   one   tree   between   the   corners;   the   north   side,   only   the   two   corner   trees. Their   grim   fingers   reached   out   over   the   field. An   atmosphere   of   strangeness,   of   grim   desolation   and   unutterable   sorrow,   hung   over   the   deserted   place;   and   something   else   as   well,   an   air   of   hostility,   of   cold   watchfulness.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             And   that   was   when   they   saw   the   sign   spraypainted   on   the   tree. The   middle   tree   of   the   southern   side. Painted   in   black   over   red. A   five-pointed   star   enclosed   by   a   circle,   one   point   uppermost,   two   for   feet   and   two   for   hands. Even   in   their   suspended   condition   the   sight chilled   them   to   the   marrow. Snow   filled   the   graveyard   and   the   trees   had   no   leaves,   and   bitter   moonlight   shone   upon   young   maples   in   a   bare   land,   fields   running   off   behind   the   cemetery,   though   across   the   road   the   white   pines   remained. A   house   sat   some   way   off   to   the   right,   nearer   the   waymeet,   with   a   barn   blocking   off   part   of   it,   and   a   candle   gleamed   in   one   window. It   was   a   small   snug   house,   but   even   in   the   night   there   was   a   desperate   sort   of   feel   about   it. Lit   by   the   candle   upon   the   wall   was   a   portrait   of   a   quiet   young   woman   with   a   faint   strange   smile,   and   the   frame   and   the   picture   seemed   to   flicker   with   an   eerie   green. The   clouds   closed   over   the   moon   and   it   began   to   snow,   and   from   the   house   a   single   swinging   eye   emerged:   a   lantern,   in   the   hand   of   a   woman   wrapped   in   shawl   and   scarf,   hurrying   across   the   road,   confused   by   the   blinding   snow,   going   to   her   doom. As   she   passed   from   sight   it   seemed   she   was   outlined   in   a   glow   of   hazy   green.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   cemetary   grew   lighter. The   twilight   of   a   warm   sticky   autumn   day   lit   in   grey   detail   the   reaching   ancient   trees. Facing   the   painted   sigul   stood   a   small   knot   of   women. Two   were   young   girls,   one   with   short   hair   and   one   blonde,   and   Ronnie   felt   a   dawning   alarm   when   he   recognized   Julian   and   Delilah. They   wore   black   cloaks,   as   did   all   the   women,   with   dull   red   shawls,   and   in   black   upon   the   shawls   were   symbols   he   recognized,   signs   that   made   his   blood   cold   with   anger   and   an   utter   antipathy. All   of   them   were   hooded   save   for   the   girls.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Behold   the   pentacle.”   said   the   woman   at   the   head   of   the   group,   indicating   the   painted   sign   defiling   the   ancient   tree. “It   is   the   sign   of   our   power   and   the   mark   of   our   belief. In   the   light   and   the   lucence   of   this   our   holy   sigul   do   we   stand   in   communion   upon   this   Equinox   day,   when   the   sun   circles   our   Mother   in   equal   procession,   and   day   is   long   as   night.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “We   stand   in   communion.”   the   women   answered   as   one.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   leader   drew   back   her   hood,   and   Ronnie   was   not   surprised   to   see   underneath   it   the   face   of   the   Witch   of   Winchester. She   held   up   a   twisted   wand,   wrought   of   some   black   wood,   as   long   as   a   cane,   contorted   into   awful   forms. In   the   cloudy   gloom   it   seemed   to   glower   with   a   faint   red   light. She   pointed   toward   the   pentacle.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “We   welcome   here   among   us   two   who   have   drunk   my   brew   and   learned   my   powers;   we   welcome   here   two   young   saplings   of   olive   before   the   Lord   of   the   Earth;   we   welcome   two   fair   daughters   into   the   sacred   light. Julian   and   Delilah,   come   forward,   attired   as   you   were   in   the   day   of   your   birth.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   two   girls   dropped   their   robes,   a   little   self-consciously   and   yet   with   the   impudence   of   beauty,   giggling   a   little,   and   walked   through   the   circle   to   kneel   before   the   Witch   of   Winchester. Their   bare   bodies   gleamed   pale   in   the   dusk.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “What   is   the   meaning   of   this   our   holy   symbol,   painted   on   this   tree   as   a   sign   of   our   power?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Julian’s   voice   sounded   sweet   and   girlish   compared   to   the   old   witch’s   low   voice. “It   is   to   us   of   Wicca   what   the   cross   is   to   Christians,”   the   scorn   in   that   last   word   startled   Ronnie,   “for   it   shows   a   human   spread-eagled   in   a   circle   of   protection. The   five   points   are   for   the   Four   Elements,   and   the   fifth    is   for   Spirit,   the   circle   uniting   them.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “For   what   does   our   symbol   stand?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “It   is   an   Earth   symbol. The   circle   is   a   charm   of   protection. It   stands   for   the   Goddess,   the   feminine   spirit   or   force,   concentrated   in   the   Moon,   whose   name   is   Diana;   it   stands   for   unity   and   wholeness.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             “Good. Delilah,   what   is   the   deeper   meaning   of   this   our   holy   sigul?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             Delilah’s   voice   was   richer   and   sweeter. “It   is   a   symbolical   representation   of   forces   employed   for   the   manifestation   of   the   inner   self,   of   elements   required   for   the   incarnation   of   the   divine.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   deepening   twilight   rendered   the   field   a   dim   blue   expanse   and   the   trees   a   faint   mist   above   the   witches,   whose   red   shawls   were   now   only   dull   brown   in   the   dusk. The   pale   shapes   of   the   two   girls   were   barely   visible. Another   pale   shape   could   be   made   out,   towards   the   middle,   where   the   replica   headstone   of   Elisabeth   Palmiter   had   stood   until   stolen   last   year:   a   woman   in   short   white   skirt   and   white   shirt,   her   hair   pulled   back.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">             The   Witch   of   Winchester   raised   her   laurel   wand. “It   seems   we   have   company.”   she   said. The   circle   of   witches   turned,   each   one   pulling   out   something   from   under   her   shawl. The   woman   in   white   marched   forwards. She   was   strung   with   prayer   beads   and   rosaries,   and   Miraculous   Medals   hung   around   her   neck,   and   she   held   a   crucifix   in   one   hand,   and   a   bottle   of   holy   water   in   the   other. She   was   gabbling   prayers   so   rapidly   they   sounded   like   a   single   impassioned   stream   of   sound;   but   Ronnie   recognized,   among   others,   the   familiar   words   of   the   Hail   Mary. A   sick   despair   washed   over   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Alackaday! ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Have   you   come   to   play? ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">I   have   no   games   for   you,   sir! 

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Steadily   the   witches   walked   across   the   rolling   field   toward   her,   their   pace   unhurried,   measured   and   firm:   this   was   their   ground. The   woman   in   white   started   to   retreat,   her   voice   rising   higher   in   her   frantic   importunings,   crossing   herself   repeatedly:   she   had   evidently   expected   these   friends   of   darkness   to   flee   like   shadows   at   the   approach   of   her   weapons.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “HailmaryfullofgracetheLordiswiththee,   blessedartthouamongwomenand blessedisthefruitofthywombJesus…”   she   shouted.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Do   you   think   that   because   you   say   ‘Lord,   Lord’,   everything   will   obey   you?”   the   Witch   of   Winchester   said   in   a   voice   of   acid   contempt.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Jesus,   Jesus   protect   me,   begone   in   the   Name   of   Jesus,   Jesus   Mary   and   Joseph   rebuke   you   and   drive   you   out   of   this   place   in   the   Name   of   Jesus,   Jesus…”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   see   what   Name   you   truly   call,   however   much   you   think   it   otherwise.”   said   the   Witch. “You   came   here   on   your   own   strength. You   invoke   the   Names   like   incantations.”   Holy   water   flew   from   the   bottle   of   the   woman   in   white,   but   the   Witch   did   not   even   flinch. “You   use   the   holy   things   like   charms   and   amulets.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">For   the   Door   in   Night ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Has   let   in   a   wight ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">And   I   don’t   know   what   to   do,   sir! 

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   are   ours   forever,   O   Witch   in   White!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   wands   flamed   in   the   hands   of   the   witches. Evil   light   broke   from   them   in   blades   like   hellish   lasers,   transfixing   the   Witch   in   White   in   her   energy   points. Horror   showed   in   her   eyes. Sickness   bowed   Ronnie’s   head. The   fool! The   pathetic   fool! The   spell   tightened   as   the   witches   chanted.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Why,   my   bad   maid, ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">You   must   be   paid, ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">For   it   came   at   your   own   calling! ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">So   take   her,   old   wight, ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">And   get   out   of   my   sight ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">For   the   Road   it   is   a-coming! ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Bound   and   bundled   in   ropes   of   power,   the   Witch   in   White   was   thrown   at   the   feet   of   the   ancient   tree. Alone   in   that   gloomy   lace   the   evil   sign   was   distinct,   as   if   the   paint   which   made   it   was   becoming   luminous.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “She   shall   be   our   energy   focus,   the   nexus   of   our   magic   as   we   initiate   our   sisters   Julian   and   Delilah. Let   us   walk   the   roads   of   power,   let   us   tread the   magic   ways. Let   us   be   one   within   our   Mother,   let   us   cause   the   dead   to   raise!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Words   were   chanted,   words   that   blasted   ears   that   heard   them. Ronnie   was   glad   he   could   not   hear   them,   could   not   see   what   they   were   doing   there   within   their   magic   circle. Their   faint   figures   were   like   black   spots   in   the   greyness   of   the   grass,   lit   by   now   and   again   a   flicker   of   sickly   light   from   the   wands,   mauve   or   nauseous   blue   or   hideous   green. The   fell   symbol   shone,   shedding no   light. The   spell-bound   woman   now   and   again   gave   a   garbled   cry. Lines   of   blue   fire   snaked   out   from   the   coven,   forming   signs   of   black   magic   on   the   grass.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             And   the   Green   Lady   appeared. A   pale   mist   rose   out   of   the   ground,   a   single   curving   plume,   visible   of   itself. Features   of   a   woman   grew   distinct   upon   it,   a   woman   with   an   eerie,   quiet   smile,   as   if   at   some   secret   and   hideous   joke. She   was   humming. A   sad   haunting   melody,   at   the   first   notes   of   which   the   quiet   chanting   and   murmered   prayers   of   the   witches   ceased,   echoing   softly   from   the   ancient   trees.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   spirit   has   come.”   said   the   Witch   of   Winchester. “Speak   firmly   and   in   a   commanding   voice,   holding   the   sigul   with   your   left   hands,   and   compel   it   to   answer   whatsoever   you   would   ask.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   naked   figures   of   the   two   girls,   pale   shapes   and   no   more,   approached   the   faintly   smiling   ghost. But   before   they   could   say   a   word,   the   Green   Lady   spoke.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             ''“Why   have   you   disturbed   my   rest?” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   voice   crashed   and   boomed   in   the   trees   like   a   clap   of   thunder,   bouncing   off   far   hills   to   die   in   sullen   echoes. The   girls   were   knocked   on   their   backs. Ronnie   could   see   one   trying   to   lift   her   amulet,   but   in   a   flash   the   ghost   was   on   her,   holding   her   down,   misty   arms   stretching   out   impossibly   long. Again   the   huge   female   voice   roared.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Why   have   you   disturbed   my   rest?” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   witches   were   frantically   incanting   now,   all   save   the   Witch   of   Winchester. She   stood,   motionless,   before   the   gleaming   symbol,   and   there   was   amusement   in   her   voice   when   she   spoke. “Green   Lady,   what   is   your   desire?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   ghost   turned   toward   her. Her   immense   voice,   like   the   voice   of   a quiet   and   soft-spoken   girl   with   the   volume   turned   up   to   incredible   decibels,   answered,   ''“I   hunger. I   hunger   for   life. I   haunted   my   husband   to   death   in   his   house,   but   I   could   not   eat   him,   I   could   not   live. I   ate   witches   who   called   me   up,   but   I   could   not   live,   I   could   only   possess.” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “If   we   give   you   life,”   said   the   Witch   of   Winchester,   “whom   will   you   serve?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   have   no   choice. I   am   dead. My   fate   is   doomed. I   cannot   but   serve   your   Master.” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   Witch   of   Winchester   raised   the   laurel   wand. Sickly   blue   lightning   lanced   into   the   sky,   and   mingled   with   the   thunder   the   high   weird   voice   of   the   ancient   woman   sounded,   shouting   syllables   so   hard   and   barbed   they   cut   at   Ronnie’s   ears:   words   in   some   language   of   hell. Like   a   stream   of   green   water   the   ghost   poured   upon   the   Witch   in   White. Her   eyes   bulged,   luminous   green. She   screamed,   chewing   as   if   to   keep   out   the   spirit   by   motions   of   her   face,   as   he   hands   could   not   move.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">She   uttered   a   scream ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">As   she   fell   in   the   stream ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Where   the   Barrow-wight   was   rising ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Like   a   shroud   of   night ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">She   was   et   by   that   wight ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">And   he   licked   his   lips   and   smiled ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             And   the   ghost   poured   like   green   water   into   the   eyes   of   the   Witch   in   White. Her   eyes   flashed   green. She   struggled   no   longer. She   went   limp,   falling   on   the   dewy   grass.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “So,   Elisabeth,   do   you   live?”   the   Witch   of   Winchester   said   sweetly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   deceived   me!”   the   Witch   in   White   shouted,   with   the   soft   eeriness   of   the   Green   Lady   blending   and   roaring   with   hers. “I   am   not   living. I   am   haunting!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   should   know   by   now   that   no   other   life   is   possible   for   the   Damned.”   said   the   Witch   of   Winchester. “I   could   send   you   back   to   Hell. Be   glad   you   are   walking   abroad,   rather   than   there. Even   life   inside   a   pig   is   better   than   there.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   will   not   forget.”   said   the   voice   of   two   women.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “It   is   well.”   said   the   Witch   of   Winchester. “Go   drive   home,   Witch   in   White,   until   you   are   summoned.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             As   the   pale   figure   tottered   out   of   the   cemetery,   the   coven   gathered. “Let   us   complete   our   ritual.”   said   the   Witch   of   Winchester. “Sister   to   sister…”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   scream   broke   from   Julian   and   Delilah. The   old   witch   paused,   frowning. “What   is   it?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Male.”   Julian   whispered. “I   feel   male   nearby.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   see   someone.”   Delilah   quavered,   pointing   at   Ronnie   and   Travel. “Are   they   more   ghosts?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Interesting.”   murmered   the   Witch   of   Winchester. “And   I   could   not   see   them. You   have   earned   your   rank—I   was   beginning   to   fear   you   were   only   good   for   looking   pretty.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             She   stood   in   front   of   the   phantom   truck,   arms   akimbo. “So   the   Road   has   sent   some   spies.”   she   said. “Did   you   really   think   you   could   elude   a   witch’s   sight   by   walking   on   that   threshold?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   creaking   drew   Ronnie’s   eyes. One   of   the   old   maples   along   the   roadward   side   of   the   cemetery   was   literally   two,   a hollow   tree   alive   only   on   two   sides,   the   wood   between   gone,   leaving   two   halves   standing   independently,   a   gap   showing   nowhere   less   than   an   inch   between   them. And   that   gap   was   widening.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   will   howl   in   that   cloven   tree   until   it   harvests   your   souls,   and   your   ghosts   will   do   my   bidding:   such   are   the   spells   I   put   upon   you.”   she   proclaimed. Ronnie   and   Travel   felt   claws   of   wood   clamp   upon   them,   crushing   bone   and   flesh. “Not   that   tight,   my   little   friend. They   need   to   live   for   a   while. No   one   can   see   them,   no   one   can   hear   them. Let   them   suffer   until   their   Warden   notices,   and   let   them   die   the   instant   he   turns   his   eyes   this   way.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">                  Pain.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   universe   was   bound   in   it.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">                  Pain.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Ronnie   could   not   bear   it,   could   not   endure   it,   would   go   mad   with   it. He   heard   a   voice   that   must   have   been   his,   moaning,   sometimes   crying,   sometimes   shouting   out. He   could   barely   breathe:   the   tree   crushed   on   his   ribs   and   his   back,   and   pinioned   his   left   leg. Slow,   dry,   aching   pressure;   something   had   to   give   but   could   not   give   for   he   was   trapped,   he   could   not   move. The   world   was   very   tiny:   his   own   five-foot-seven   of   body,   and   a   dim   mist   of   awareness   around   it. Above   him   now   and   then   he   heard   Travel,   sobbing,   wailing   and   moaning,   but   only   at   intervals   did   the   pressing   stabbing   ache   allow   him   to   identify   this. Years   ground   slowly by,   over   him   crushed   between   the   horns   of   the   world. There   was   no   peace,   nor   rest,   nor   even   thought.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   haunted   cemetery   stood   dark   and   gray   in   the   cloudy   night. It   was   warm   and   even   sticky,   but   a   cloying   warmth,   unhealthy   and   miserable. There   was   no   sound,   but   a   sense   of   unheard   groans   hung   in   the   air,   shrouded   wails   no   man   could   see. Suddenly   a   figure   stood   near   the   tree. Small   and   pale-haired,   he   held   a   paintbrush   in   one   hand. Two   others   were   there,   equally   suddenly,   as   if   they   had   appeared. Lara   had   bare   feet   and   a   book   in   one   hand. Brooke   was   in   pajamas:   she’d   turned   in   early. A   brightness   grew   around   them   as   Lara   began   to   shine   all   over,   until   the   cemetery   was   lit   by   a   faint   silver   light. The   grim   branches   of   the   twisted   old   trees   made   them   shiver.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Why   are   we   here?”   said   Brooke,   swatting   a   mosquito.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   don’t   know.”   said   Lara   crossly. “Last   time   we   all   got   whisked   like   this   was   when   one   of   us   was   in   peril. But   where’s   Ronnie   and   Travel?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “There.”   said   Forest. He   was   pointing   to   the   cloven   tree,   whose   sides   gaped   nearly   a   foot   apart. Light   reached   through   it unimpeded. The   others   looked   bewildered. “They’re   trapped   between   the   halves.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Forest,”   said   Brooke   gently,   running   her   hand   through   the   opening,   “there’s   nothing   there.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   met   her   eyes,   and   Brooke’s   breath   caught. A   green   glitter   was   stirring   in   their   depths. “They’re   caught   on   the   doorhold   of   the   Road,   and   crushed   in   that   tree. I   can   see   them.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Are   you   sure?”   said   Brooke.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   guided   her   hand   to   a   wet   bog   in   the   base   of   the   tree. “What   does   that   look   like?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Blood.”   whispered   Brooke. “Oh   my   God,   it’s   blood.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             With   a   flash,   Lara   went   blue. “Good   enough   for   me.”   she   said. “Let’s   pry   the   tree   apart.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “But”   ''It   is   cursed;   you   cannot   budge   it. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   girls   weren’t   listening   in   any   case. Ice   grew   between   the   halves;   and   crumbled   and   broke   the   second   any   pressure   built   up. The   same   with   Brooke’s   solid   water. The   tree   would   not   move. The   earth   quivered   underneath   them   with   the   titanic   forces   of   ice   and   water. But   in   vain.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Lara   let   go,   out   of   breath. “I   don’t   get   it.”   she   puffed. “Nothing   should   be   able   to   resist   that   kind   of   pressure. It’s   like—something   else   was   holding   it.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Magic.”   said   Forest.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   froze   the   Father   of   Dragons   himself.”   Lara   snorted. “Why   can’t   I   freeze   a   stupid   tree?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   froze   him   by   his   cold   heart.”   said   Forest. “You’re   the   Star. The   trees   hate   the   Stars. There   is   a   power   in   them   to   resist   the   Stars   and   confuse   their   power.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Well,   I’m   going   to   give   it   another   try.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “No.”   said   Forest. “Stay   back. I   will   call   to   the   tree.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You’ll…? Don’t   be   ridiculous. This   is   a   job   for   us.”   said   Lara   dismissively. She   always   tended   to   think   of   him   as   much   younger   than   he   was.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   grabbed   her   by   the   shoulder   and   pulled   her   around. Green   fire   smouldered   in   his   eyes. “''In   the   name   of   the   Road   you   will   listen   to   me!” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Lara   stepped   slowly   aside,   a   sudden   wary   respect   in   her   frosted   eyes. Forest   strode   up   to the   tree.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Anger   was   in   him,   anger   and   authority. He   reached   out   in   his   thought   across   the   miles   of   forest,   the   dark   secret   trees   in   their   countless   nooks   and   places,   until   he   could   taste   earth   and   drink   moss;   and   he   uttered   its’   name   as   he   laid   both   hands   on   both   halves   of   the   tree.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Malvorn, <span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">   he   said.    Malvorn,   he   said   louder. Green   light   broke   from   his   hands. Under   them   the   tree   quivered,   and   he   felt   its’   slow   thick   thoughts,   if   such   they   could   be   called;   its’   ancient   hatred   of   those   who   tormented   the   ones   that   it guarded,   the   canker   of   magic   that   twisted   its’   heart.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Must   hold,   bite,   crush, must   not   let   go. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   must   hearken   to   me,   Malvorn. You   must   let   go.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   told   me   to   grab,   bite,   hold. Must   not   let   go. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   were   not   words,   so   much   as   thick   swellings   in   Forest’s   mind;   the   tree’s   life   swelled   again,   and   he   heard   it   once   more,   Grab   bite,   hold.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Malvorn,   I   compel   you   in   the   Name   of   the   Road!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Crush   them, hold   them   fast   as   bone. Must   not   let   go. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Forest lifted   his   hands   and   took   a   step   back. Green   fire   danced   in   his   eyes. With   one   hand   he   held   up   the   paintbrush   that   he   had   been   using   when   he   was   whisked   from   his   room. “I   will   make   you   let   go.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Then   he   held   out   his   hand   and   began   to   paint   upon   the   air.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Lara   and   Brooke   stared   with   bulging   eyes   as   light   grew   where   the   brush   passed,   the   brush moving   as   fast   as   fire   until   a   picture   began   to   grow. It   was   of   the   tree,   but   its’   halves   were   forced   open   to   snapping   point   by   a   mountainous   rock   of   unbreakable   crystal,   painted   harder   than   diamond   and   harder   than   adamant;   not   even   magic   could   rend   or   crush   that   stone. Already   something   solid   was   shimmering   in   the   air   between   the   gaping   halves.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Let   them   go.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Must   hold…bite…grip… ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             There   was   a   thunderous   crash. The   tree   split   apart. A   giant   rock   had   appeared   out   of   nowhere   between   it,   holding   it   almost   ten   feet   apart. The   picture   vanished. Ronnie   and   Travel   became   visible,   sprawled   on   top   of   each   other. Hurriedly   the   others   dragged   them    free   and   laid   them   out   on   the   grass.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Oh   my   God. Oh   my   God. They’re   dying.”   moaned   Brooke.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   two   were   grievously   injured. Blood   streaked   them,   front   and   back. They   barely   breathed,   and   in   the   glow   of   Lara   they   looked   ghastly   pale.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Raspberry.”   said   Forest   sharply.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What..? Why   do   you…?”   Brooke   began,   and   Lara   was   impatiently   asking   if   anybody   brought   a   cell   phone   as   she   bent   over   the   two. “Numb.”   she   said   imperatively. “Cold   causes   numbness. There. That   at   least   will   prevent   the   pain   from   sending   them   into   shock.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Raspberry!”   Forest   shouted. “I   know   what   I’m   doing! Find   a   pricker   bush!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Yielding,   they   spread   out   through   the   forest,   Lara   shedding   light   like   two   moons. The   woods   across   the   street   from   the   cemetery   were   low   sand   hills   buried   in   young   white   pines,   but   in   the   wooded   pastures   behind   the   cemetery   the   ground   cover   was   a   mix   of   sparse   blueberry   and   a   sort   of   creeping   raspberry. Brooke   with   her   bare   feet   found   them   first   (Lara   was   impervious   to   anything   when   Cold). Forest   said   it   would   do. Ignoring   the   thorns   they   gathered   masses   of   it   and   hurried   back.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Now   I   remember.”   Brooke   said   excitedly. “Arheled   said   these   can   cure   wounds!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “They’ll   do   better   than   that.”   said   Forest. I   will   extract   their   essence.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Placing   his   hands   on   the   heap   of   raspberry,   he   frowned   fiercely. Green   light   leaped   from   his   hands. The   plants   seemed   to    melt,   impurities   sifting   down   like   ash,   the   rest   forming   a   large   melon   of   glowing   green   between   his   hands.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Turn   them   over.”   said   Forest.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   spread   the   green   fog   over   them,   and   when   they   turned   them,   upon   their   backs   as   well. Lara   frowned   as   a   sudden   thought   occurred   to   her,   and   she   and   Brooke   drew   from   water   and   from   cold   every   healing   quality   and   power   they   could   think   of.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Hours   passed. The   night   grew   cooler   and   dew   began   to   form. No   balls   or   ghostly   lanterns   appeared,   no   pale   mists   rose   from   the   ground:   the   Green   Lady   had   left   her   cemetery. The   glow   grew   fainter   as   the   bodies   of   the   injured   absorbed   it. Soon   their   chests   rose   and   fell   in   slumber,   and   the   agony   left   their   faces. Pulling   up   their   shirts   Lara   saw   with   amazement   that   the   wounds   had   closed,   and   when   she   checked   half   an   hour   later   they   looked   as   though   they’d   been   healing   for   a   week.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Fruit,   leaves,   bark   and   roots   speed   up   wound   healing.”   said   Forest. “I   call   to   the   forest. That   is   my   power.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Pretty   handy.”   said   Lara.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             So   they   kept   vigil   through   the   long   cool   night,   dozing   and   waking   constantly   to   swat   bugs   or   listen   to   rustles   in   the   leaves,   which   could   be   made   by   anything   from   mice   to   bears. The   moon   came   out   once   and   up   to   greet   it   rose   the   eerie   yapping   howls   of   coyotes,   sounding   wild   and   awful   beyond   description.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Ronnie   woke   just   before   dawn. He   seemed   weak   and   spent,   but   whole. A   red   flicker   burned   in   his   eyes   as   he   stared   around,   and   suddenly   his   pickup   appeared   on   the   road,   engine   running   once   more. He   had   pulled   it   off   the   Road. Lara   and   Travel   rode   in   the   cab,   while   Brooke   and   Forest   hung   on   in   back. The   old   truck   ponderously   turned   around   in   an   zigzag   K-turn,   and   Ronnie   drove   up   the   road. He   glanced   to   the   left,   half   expecting   to   see   the   little   Palmiter   house   with   the   portrait   of   Elisabeth   glowing   green   in   the   window,   but   all   he   saw   was   the   cellar   stonework:   it   had   fallen   in   decades   ago.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Lara   moved   the   cement   blocks   closing   the   road. They   drove   back   up   the   winding   climbing   streets   until   they   entered   roads   that   they   knew:   the   cemetery   was   a   good   fifteen   miles   south   of   Winsted. Ronnie   dropped   everyone   off   at   their   houses,   and   then,   sleepy   and   exhausted,   drove   home.

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<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Day   grew,   slow   and   rainy,   in   the   haunted   graveyard. Rain   dripped   sadly   from   the   long   limbs   of   the   reaching   maples. One   moment   the   cemetery   was   empty;   the   next,   two   figures   stood   in   the   damp   grass,   gazing   in   stunned   silence   at   the   cloven   tree. As   if   fallen   from   the   sky,   a   giant   boulder   had   appeared   between   its’   halves,   forcing   them   apart   to   the   point   of   breaking. There   was   no   sound.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   taller   figure   broke   the   silence. It   sounded   like   the   voices   of   two   women   speaking   at   once. She   was   wearing   a   white   raincoat   with   crosses   stained   onto   the   sleeves,   and   under   its’   hood   she   could   barely   be   seen. “Where   are   they,   Witch   of   Winchester?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   heavier   figure   pulled   her   dull   green   raincoat   close   with   an   irritated   gesture. “They   have   escaped,   evidently.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   thought   that   you   were   strong.”   the   other   sneered.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Bandy   me   not,   Witch   in   White.”   said   the   shorter   one   testily. “I   had   them   rigged   to   die   if   the   Road   or   the   Warden   so   much   as   brushed   them. No,   this   is   something   else. This   is   the   work   of   another.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who,   then?”   the   double   voice   demanded. “Who   is   this   mightier   being   that   can   overcome   such   witchcraft?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “He   knows   that   he   is   strong,   now.”   murmered   the   Witch   of   Winchester. “This   is   the   work   of   the   Forest. So   fell   are   they   become,   now,   these   new   Children   of   the   Road,   that   the   Warden   no   longer   needs   to   stir.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   Children   had   no   powers   in   the   past. They   could   reveal   and   they   could   see,   and   they   could   feel;   but   they   could   not   call. Why,   then,   are   they   suddenly   growing   so   mighty?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Because   of   what   we   are   planning.”   the   Witch   responded. “The   Warden   knows   our   Master   is   returning. But   our   Master   will   return   before   his   so   vaunted   Road   does;   and   we   will   be   too   strong   for   them   to   uproot   by   the   time   they   are   arisen   in   full   might.”

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