Page 18 of Blood Coven

RED

A scream of a chicken outside forced Red to open her eyes. Father is already up—I’m late for my morning chores.

Unexpectedly alive and still draped in the warmth of her new friendships, she sat up and stretched in her bed. Having survived the long night in the brutal cold while dipping her hands in the forbidden pools of witchcraft, she felt the power coursing through her. She wasn’t sure how she managed to slip back in through her window, disrobe and change into a new nightgown, shoving the smoke-scented one deep underneath her bed; her memory was shrouded in mist. Now, underneath the down duvet, Red felt every bone and joint ache as the adrenaline faded from her system. But for the first time in her short life, she experienced joy.

The powers of the Craft are forbidden, she thought, as she took inventory of her aches and pains. But maybe the power was worth the risk.

She got out of bed on tired legs, then crouched down and reached for her crumpled nightgown. When she pulled it out, she smelled the smoke and earthiness, sending a jolt of happiness through her. Red stood back up a new woman. Everything felt different, from the faint soot smell on her flesh to the tiredness in her bones. Donning her warmest clothes, as though to fight off the phantom cold from the night before, she went to the door and grabbed the handle—it was still locked.

Her heart sank. With the sun already rising, it was a late start to begin with. Why would she still be locked in? Red knocked gently on the door to remind her mother she was still there. Moments later, it unlocked with a faint click. No one opened the door on the other side, so Red gingerly did it herself and stepped into the vacant hallway. With silent, stocking-clad feet, Red followed the smell of warm bread and found herself in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Good morning, Mama,” Red said politely, trying to keep the edge from her voice that would reveal her anger at being locked in her room. It was not the first time, but after what her mother and grandmother said to her, it was different. Now, being locked in could mean they were planning something…something that could cause her great harm.

She brushed off the previous night’s imprisonment. Her fear of being sacrificed to the Wolf was dwindling, deflating into almost nothing. She need not worry; she was protected now. Satisfied, she waited for her mother to instruct her, but she didn’t turn her attention from the bread she was kneading. She didn’t look up, or even bother to brush back the hair that fell from her bonnet.

“Would you like me to fetch the eggs?” Red asked, needing something to do before anxiety consumed her. “If the hens have laid any, that is.”

“I already gathered them, Rose,” her mother replied sharply. Her cheeks were red from exertion.

Red decided to use this to her advantage. “If I am not needed for chores, may I go out today?”

Her mother looked up, and Red saw dark shadows surrounding her red eyes; she had been crying. With a flour-coated hand, she waved Red off and returned to kneading the bread so fiercely Red knew it would not rise. The flat loaf would be tossed to the pigs, and she would face her husband’s wrath.

Turning on her heel, Red darted back into her room to grab her hood and was out of the house before her mother could change her mind. She snatched the empty basket and headed to the woods to forage. The moment the brisk air hit her skin, she felt blood rushing to her cheeks. Tears infringed on her vision, and the unavoidable runny nose showed up, but she never felt more alive than she did then. Surviving a night when she could have been caught practicing witchcraft—the punishment for such being burned alive or crushed by rocks—and having avoided being sacrificed to the Wolf, she felt invincible.

In the course of a single night, Red had friends. Sisters, Alina said she could call them. Unity felt powerful. Not just friends, protectors. Having always been at the receiving end of a slap or a shove, simply the knowledge that she was protected from being sacrificed gave her comfort. I hope they know what they are doing.

Lost in thoughts of wolves and spells, Red found herself walking by Alina’s home. She glanced conspicuously into the windows in hopes of catching her friend’s attention. When no movement inside suggested anyone was home, Red kept on walking. Around the corner, she bumped right into the blonde, gasping as she did.

“Red,” she breathed her name. “What brings you here?”

Red had no answer, not one that she could speak aloud. Her heart tried to answer, thumping so hard Red was certain Alina could hear it.

“Are you gathering?” Alina asked, head tilting towards the basket in Red’s hands.

“Y-yes,” Red stammered.

“May I join you?” Alina asked, and when Red nodded, she hooked her arm. She guided Red towards the forest, stepping over the town line and into the woods.

Red stayed quiet, enjoying her company as they half-heartedly foraged. “I saw you yesterday,” Red said vaguely.

Alina laughed. “Did you think it was all a dream?”

“No,” Red stammered. “Not last night, I mean earlier. B-before I left my house, you were there…”

Alina nodded, glancing at the path before them when Red turned to look at her.

Red had never before sensed Alina’s shyness, but it was clear now. She was always a quiet girl, not rowdy like the Floarea sisters, never a troublemaker. And yet, she was a witch.

“Yes, I was,” Alina admitted. “Did you know that every woman is born with a draw to the Craft? Some men too, but not as many.”

Red shook her head, slowing her walk to watch Alina’s body language as she spoke.

“We all have it in us, and I can sense it is very strong in you.” Alina stopped to study her face. The coldness soaked into them as they stood between the trees. “I could feel it in you. I’ve felt it for a long time. But that is not the only reason I find myself walking by, hoping to…to catch your eye.”

They both remained silent as Alina’s words hung between them.

Then, at last, as she began to put the pieces together, Red said, “Last night, you said… You said that the way you love, the town would not agree with.” Red turned to face Alina, hand on her forearm to hold her steady. With pleading eyes, she asked, “What did you mean?”

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