Page 7 of A Descent Into Darkness

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he conceded, and I slapped him on the shoulder in appreciation. Henry was the only man on the ship whose opinion mattered to me and the only man I trusted to have my back.

The crew had cursed my name all day until they received a generous stipend for the night. Not only did it get me back into their good graces, but the extra money meant the alcohol would be flowing and no one would notice my absence.

But all my efforts had been in vain. The moment I entered the room, an authoritative voice was calling over the din of the crowd.

“After hearing testimony in the case against Katherine Elizabeth Hawkins, we hereby find the accused guilty of the murder of Jeremiah Michael Collins by way of witchcraft. As God’s loyal servants, we cannot allow a witch to live. I,therefore, sentence Miss Hawkins to death.” The entire crowd burst into nervous chatter. The sharp pounding of a gavel echoed over the room. “Order! I’ll have order in this court!” The judge rose from his bench, his neatly powdered wig appearing at odds with the dark scowl on his wrinkled face.

My eyes darted to the woman at the center of it all. Her back was to me, but as before, her gaze remained solidly on the ground at her feet. She made no effort to defend herself, no wailing or crying. Her body was perfectly still, not even the tell-tale shaking of silent sobbing. My heart raced in my chest. I needed to know more about this woman who faced certain death with such admirable stoicism.

A plan took shape in my mind. A long shot with too many variables to consider, but it was all I could think of in that moment. I said a little prayer to the Divine that fate was on my side as I pulled my flask from my pocket and took a hearty swig of rum. The alcohol burned my throat before settling in my belly. The rest of the contents I poured over my clothes, dousing myself with the potent cologne that would ensure my plan would work. I waited for the final judgment. When the crowd settled, the judge returned to his seat.

“The accused shall be remanded into custody and come morning, she shall burn at the pyre for her crimes against God.”

This was my cue. I instantly became animated, throwing my large frame into the crowd. “A witch?” I questioned,raising my voice so it echoed in the momentary quiet of the chamber. “Or a fae? Only the Divine can know for sure!” I purposefully slurred the words, putting on a show as I stumbled through the throng of bystanders. I needed to make a scene. The crowd began to protest as I continued to ramble incoherent words, flailing about as though I’d been overcome with the drink. Public drunkenness was still against the law, even though most of the time it was simply ignored. But the publicity of this trial was too important for my actions to go unnoticed. I continued pushing forward, desperate to get a glimpse of the girl. My actions roused the crowd, drawing all the attention solely on me. It was then that she finally lifted her gaze and our eyes fused, the entire world stopping on its axis as her green eyes met mine. Another moment burned into my soul, and I knew that somehow, she’d impact my life in ways I could only begin to grasp.

The entire room fell into chaos as the authorities descended on me. They couldn’t let my insolence go unpunished, not while the entire town watched. I felt solid hands on my arms. I allowed them to restrain me, going limp as they clamped shackles on my wrists. Anxiety flared in my chest as I lost sight of her, the girl that was turning my well-laid plans on their head. But I’d achieved what I set out to accomplish.

Iwas remanded to the provost marshal at the watch house, the only place in town to hold vagrants awaiting trial or punishment.

“You like witches?” The marshal chuckled in my ear as he led me toward the darkened hallway of awaiting cages. The sun was sinking low, the glow of candlelight adding to the suffocating heat of late summer. “Looks like it’s your lucky day.” The shackles fell from my hands the moment before I felt a boot on my back. The marshal pushed meforward, and I stumbled into the waiting cell. The click of metal solidified my imprisonment as the heavy steel door locked behind me.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, my gaze swept the adjoining cells. A sigh escaped my lips when my eyes settled on the mop of blonde hair in the cell next to mine.Thank the Divine!My plan had worked and an entire night with my mystery witch stretched out before me.

She sat crouched in the corner, her eyes fixated on the ground, no hint of emotion on her face.

“Is it true what they say? Are you really a witch?” I asked, resting my forearms against the bars that separated us. Her eyes darted in my direction, glaring daggers at me.

“You!” she accused, doing nothing to hide the contempt in her voice.

“The name’s James,” I said smugly. “Nice to meet you, Katherine. Now, you were about to enlighten me with your knowledge of the dark arts.”

“Go to hell,” she sneered, turning her emerald gaze away from me.

“Looks like you’re already on your way there. Maybe now is a good time to confess your sins.”

She stared off into oblivion, her full lips pressed together in a thin line. Fully prepared to ignore me. But little did she know that I could be quite convincing.

“I hear you’re an orphan. Did they find you on a faerie hill?”

“So I’m a changeling now? You people are so naïve,” shehuffed. I couldn’t hide the smirk that crept across my face. I’d managed to get a response from her.

“Naïve? Everyone knows that fae walk among us. Maybe ‘witch’ isn’t an appropriate term for someone like you.”

“Someone like me? You mean an educated woman with a mind of her own? I guess society isn’t ready for a woman like that.”

“Do all educated women kill their lovers?” I knew I was pushing my luck, but I couldn’t help it. She was beguiling, and her fiery responses only fanned my curiosity.

“He wasnotmy lover,” she said poignantly.

“That part was my own embellishment. It’s the part where you killed him that has me intrigued.”

“You’re awfully well versed for the town drunk. Maybeyouaren’t who you’re perceived to be, either.” I ignored her astute observations, keeping the focus on her. “I’ve always wondered how a witch commits murder.”

“A simple understanding of plants is all you need to create the most deadly of concoctions. Nature is a much more effective killer than witchcraft could ever be.”

“Ahh, so poison is your weapon of choice? Very poetic, but not nearly as much fun if you had been a witch.” I felt my hopes of finding a fae in this beautiful woman slip through my fingers. “Why did you do it?” My words were sincere this time. I was vested in her story now and I had to know more.

“If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?” Her prose was perfect as shequoted The Merchant of Venice. Her words collided into me, leaving me awestruck. I felt the demon in my chest stir, recognizing a kindred spirit.

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