A MURDER OF CROWS: By Lori Titus
Wednesday, February 2nd, 2011Suzette found herself standing barefoot on the ice, still clad in her sleeping gown.
She was surrounded by the sisters of her coven: Paula, Janice, and Katherine.
“Why have you brought me here? I want to go home. I’ll catch my death out here.”
Katherine stepped forward, a cold smile on her face. “That you will.”
Paula spoke then. Her voice echoed through the emptiness. The light of the new moon glowed weirdly over the ice and the desolate trees, their limbs petrified by white.
“There is a chance for you. You’ll have to admit that you were wrong.”
“Wrong about what?”
“You laid the blame on your sister for magic that was not hers. The coven was never in any danger,” Katherine said. “We didn’t need a scapegoat. And even if we had.. we would not have chosen Isabel as the one. That was a decision for the coven. Not for you to make by yourself.”
“In betraying your sister, you betrayed us as well.” ….. said.
“If I take such blame, you’ll kill me anyway,” Suzette yelled. “Why are you torturing me?”
“This is not torture. There are deaths on your head. Either you admit your crime and ask for repentance, or you will have to die.”
Isabel shivered. “What is the punishment if I repent?”
“You will be stripped of your powers.”
It took a moment before Suzette could form words to speak.
“You’re jealous of me. My power was always greater than yours. No. I will not.”
Katherine stepped away from her. The others began to back away as well.
“The ice was not so thin that it couldn’t bear Stephen’s weight that night he followed your sister, was it?” Katherine asked. “But you were watching. And the idea that he’d follow Isabel across that ice because she was upset—you considered that betrayal, didn’t you?”
Tears filled Isabel’s eyes, turning ice against her skin as they fell.
“He betrayed me. He got what he deserved, and so did Isabel!” she trembled, her hands clutched into fists. “I hate her! I hate them both.”
Katherine held out her hand.
Suzette screamed. “No!”
The ice cracked as it opened up beneath Suzette’s feet.
And then, she was gone.
~*~
Isabel woke . She heard the sound of chirping.
What bird sang at night? she wondered. Sitting up on her narrow cot, she squinted. Moonlight filtered in through the milky window. She was able to see the form of birds wings resting against the glass.
The figure grew larger. Soon, Isabel wasn’t sure that the shadow was inside the window anymore.
A black mass crept across the dingy wall, dripping like ink. It moved like liquid, rising up from the floor, and settling into the shape of a woman, wearing a black coat and bonnet.
“Isabel,” Katherine said.
“How…. How are you able to be here?”
Katherine extended her hand. “We don’t have much time. By sunrise they will come for you. If you come with me, I can give you the answers. But we must leave now. I will help you.”
Isabel stood. “What about my family?”
“It is the choice between living and knowing they are well,” Katherine said, “or dying and waiting for them to join you.”
~*~
Suzette’s body wasn’t found until Spring.
Reverend Warring believed that she committed suicide, guilty for what she had done. He never knew that her death was about retribution, rather than remorse.
Suzette‘s death became the subject of legend in her town. It was said that in her grief, she wandered out onto the snow, looking for her lost fiancé. She fell through the ice. On cold winter nights, they said that her voice could be heard in the woods, echoing through the frozen air.
No one could explain how Isabel escaped her execution. The jailor blamed it on the guards, and the guards blamed it on witchcraft. In the end, the town council fired the guards who had been watching her that night. It was better to assign blame than to let word of an escaped witch plunge their community into another bout of fear.
Amongst Isabel’s meager belongings from her cell was her diary.
Margaret read every word. She kept it amongst her dearest possessions, hiding it in her closet. Her parents never read it, and she felt that was for the best. The depth of Suzette’s betrayal would only serve to bring them more pain.
Margaret knew better. She had lost one sister, but not both. Sometimes, a dark bird would light upon her window, and she would smile, feeling the presence of her sister‘s spirit. After a time the bird would take to the sky again, followed by three others. She watched them climb until their dark forms were obscured by clouds.
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©2011 Lori Titus
You can keep up with the author’s latest scribblings on her blog, The Darkest of Lore at: http://loribeth215.wordpress.com/ , or follow her on Twitter as Loribeth215.
