The Witch Stone - Emily Oakes Page 0,1

carts and piled women inside. The man dragging Isabel approached a cart. Isabel had stopped screaming. Her frightened eyes fixed narrowly on the cold black eyes of her attacker. Her lips parted but Rowena could not tell if she said anything. The man avoided Isabel's wary stare and threw her into the darkness within the cart. He watched and waited for the cart to be full of women then slammed the door and locked it.

Rowena tried to move but her feet were nailed to the ground. What was happening?

She swayed, almost losing her balance. If she had come home a few minutes earlier she would have been riding in the back of one of those terrible wagons. Had the Crone known this was going to happen? Had she saved her life? She had to be dreaming. She pleaded to wake up in her warm cottage to the sound of a bustling fire and stew bubbling away on the stove. Bumping into a prickle bush made the nightmare all too real.

The sound of a baby crying made her jump. Most of the carts had left, leaving only a trail of dust and faint screams behind. One rickety cart remained, with a couple of unsettled horses thumping the ground. A babe of not more than 2 years toddled out wearing a brown cape. A tall man walked up to the child. Rowena could not see the face of the tall man in the darkness but couldn't remember a man so tall living in her village. He was four heads taller than Rowena. The stranger bent the long way to the ground and picked up the child.

Rowena shuddered. She could only imagine the horrible things the man would do. To her surprise, he cradled the baby to his chest and hopped into the driver's seat of the cart. The horses neighed as the tall man whipped them into action. Rowena watched with disbelief her mouth agape as the last cart disappeared from sight. As quick as that everybody was taken from her tiny village. She was alone. Alone and afraid.

Rowena stood slowly. Her mind was a blur. She didn't know how long she had been crouched in the same position but her legs were stiff. She hobbled away from her hiding spot and into the thick forest, the heat from the spreading fire warming her back. She turned around and watched as flames finally engulfed the small town.

A faint harmonious sound rose up around her. Rowena stopped. She held her breath, hoping to hear it again. The sound rose up again and her breath hitched in her throat. Some of the women had escaped! She dashed through the trees, following the chanting. It got louder towards the lake where Rowena and the rest of the women bathed. She approached the lake. She crouched down as low as the bushes and made her way to the lake bank. The moon gave enough light for Rowena to see a circle of eight women standing in the water. They were holding hands and had their eyes closed. Rowena had to warn them.

As Rowena got closer, she noticed tears running down their pale cheeks. A hushed chanting emanated from their circle. Mist formed above their heads. The chanting became louder but Rowena couldn’t make out the words. She watched, her eyes wide, as the mist became thicker. It seemed to be taking on a form. Rowena rubbed her eyes to ensure they were working properly as the mist transformed into the shape of a woman, transparent in the moonlight. Could it be? Was she really looking at the form of a Goddess?

The form spread its arms around the women. The chanting stopped. The mist thickened. When it cleared, the women were gone.

“No. No, wait!” She tried to yell but her voice was barely a whisper.

Weeds wrapped around her heart and tightened. Was she sad because the women were gone? Or because she wasn’t with them? They had asked for a more humane fate than what awaited the other women in the black wagons.

Rowena fell to her knees and cried. Loud, shrill sobs that carried throughout the night. “Why? Why don’t you leave us alone?” she shouted at the sky. She shuddered a raspy breath and looked at the moon’s reflection in the lake. Out of nowhere a voice like a breeze whispered in her ear. We are at peace.

The tightness in her chest dissolved. Tears rolled down her cheeks. They were okay. Wherever they were, they were