Page 62 of Bewitched By the Wicked Witch
"Some rescue team you two turned out to be!" I called out, my voice cracking with a mixture of fear and gallows humor. "Remind me to leave terrible reviews when this is all over!"
Councilman Bishop stepped forward, holding a flickering torch with the theatrical flair of someone who'd been practicing this moment. His piggy eyes gleamed with malicious triumph as he savored his moment of victory.
"Sage Blackstone," he intoned with self-righteous pomposity, "you have been found guilty of witchcraft, black magic, and crimes against the good people of Old Hollows. Time to face the consequences."
He lowered the torch to the kindling at my feet, and the dry wood caught instantly. Flames surged upward, their heat enveloping me in what should have been a blistering death sentence.
But as the fire roared around me, something unexpected happened. Instead of searing pain, I felt a strange sense of completion, as if some final piece of myself had clicked into place. The dark magic within me pulsed and thrummed, no longer fighting against my control but working with it.
My eyes snapped open, glowing violet as I fixed my gaze upon the startled faces of the mob. The flames licked at my skin but found no purchase, my magic creating a protective barrier that turned their heat into nothing more than a warm caress.
For the first time in my life, my power didn't feel evil or wrong. It felt like me.
The iron shackles cracked and fell away like brittle leaves, my magic finally free to protect me properly. I stood tall amidst the raging inferno, casually brushing embers from my singed skirts.
"Is that all you've got?" I called out, my voice ringing with genuine amusement above the roar of the flames. "I've had spicier encounters with takeout food!"
The crowd stumbled back, their eyes wide with disbelief as they watched me step down from the pyre completely unharmed. This was apparently not how their evening was supposed to go.
Just then, a resounding boom echoed through the town square, followed by ablinding flash of light that announced the arrival of what could only be described as the cavalry.
Leading the charge was my indomitable grandmother Bertie, perched atop a gleaming silver broomstick like some geriatric valkyrie. Her wispy white hair streamed behind her like a banner of righteous indignation, and her eyes sparkled with the kind of mischievous glee that usually preceded expensive property damage.
"Release my granddaughter, you ignorant peasants!" Gran bellowed, her voice amplified by magical enhancement that probably violated several noise ordinances. "Or face the wrath of the Blackstone matriarch!"
The mob scattered like startled pigeons as Gran swooped low, firing off a barrage of stinging hexes that sent them yelping and howling in directions that suggested they'd suddenly remembered pressing appointments elsewhere.
"Took you long enough, Gran," I called out, grinning up at her with genuine affection. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost on your way to the senior center."
Gran snorted, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Watch your tongue, missy. I'll have you know I was organizing reinforcements. Speaking of which..."
She gestured grandly behind her, and my heart swelled as I saw the families of the girls we'd rescued marching into the square like an army of righteousness. Their faces were etched with gratitude and fierce determination to set the record straight.
"Sage saved our daughters!" one mother cried out, her voice trembling with emotion. "She's a hero, not a villain!"
"The only evil in this town comes from willfulignorance!" declared another parent with the authority of someone whose child had nearly died.
As the crowd's hostility transformed into bewildered uncertainty, I saw movement from the corner of my eye. Callum and Cosmo were stirring, shaking off the effects of Hank's underhanded tactics.
Callum leapt to his feet, his eyes immediately finding me among the chaos. "Sage!" he cried out, his voice raw with relief. "You're alive!"
"Did you seriously think a little bonfire was going to take me out?" I drawled. The rope that tied me to the pyre snapped in the flames that flickered and licked at my feet, and I sauntered toward him with an exaggerated swagger. "It takes more than some oversized matchsticks to roast this particular marshmallow."
Callum's gaze raked over me with the kind of heat that had nothing to do with the dying flames. "Remind me never to underestimate you again," he murmured appreciatively.
Before I could formulate a suitably provocative response, Cosmo bounded over with his starlit eyes wide with concern and residual fury. "Sage! Are you alright? I tried to claw that deputy's eyes out, but he blindsided me with a cheap shot!"
I reached down to scratch behind his ears, my heart swelling with affection for my loyal familiar. "I'm fine, Cosmo. Though I appreciate the attempted eye-clawing on my behalf."
Gran touched down beside us, her broom vanishing with a pop as she fixed Councilman Bishop with a look that couldhave frozen molten lava.
"Bishop, you sniveling excuse for a public servant," Gran snapped, her voice dripping with decades of accumulated disdain. "I always knew you were a few ingredients short of a proper potion, but this exceeds even my lowest expectations."
Bishop puffed up indignantly, his jowls quivering with outrage. "Now see here, you old crone! I am a respected member of this community!"
"Respected?" Gran barked out a laugh. "The only thing people respect about you is your ability to clear a room with your speeches!"
Before Bishop could retort, a frog hopped across his foot, croaking loudly in what sounded distinctly like profanity. He lifted his foot to stomp on it, and I lunged forward.
