Bones of a Witch (22 page)

“Oh, right.” Lilith smiled with hesitance. “No,
no shift. I’d have brought you a thong, but I didn’t do the laundry
yesterday, what with the witch’s trial and all.”

“Pray tell, you have been to a witch’s
trial?”

“Been to one? I was the guest of honor at one
last night. I’d be hanged had I not killed Putnam and
Hilton?”

“Putnam?”

“Yes, do you know him?”

“The name; he is the devil, for ought I know.
At my trial, he did cause the children torment. In my presence they
fell into fits uncontrolled, to which he put blame unto
me.”

“So you think, Ursula, but that was not
entirely Putnam’s doing.”

“Oh, but it was. Had I not seen with eyes my
own I might not believe, but his powers are strong and affright me
most grievously.”

“I know, but you see it was all a sham. And in
your case it was not Putnam’s doing alone; it was the children’s,
too. They only pretended to be possessed by your specter so that
they could see you hang with the others. The attending adults, most
of them, simply got caught up in the hysteria. But a few, like
Putnam, went along to settle old scores and to profit from the
fallout. None of it would have been possible without the presumed
innocence of the children, however.”

The thought of that brought Ursula nearly to
tears. I watched her gaze drift away, her thoughts with them,
perhaps back to a simpler time when good and evil were perceived
easily as black and white, and where all children were considered
blessed unless tainted by agents of the devil, to which evidence
would be obvious and no blame could they know.

Lilith reached out for Ursula’s arm and shook
it gently, drawing her back from the past. I watched (ashamed, I
must admit) from a crouch behind the dogwood brush, as Ursula
finished getting dressed, stepping first into the jeans Lilith had
given her, and then putting on a bra, a blouse, stockings and
boots. She stepped back, posing with arms splayed for Lilith, as if
modeling in front of a mirror. “What thoughts have you now,
sister?”

“Wow,” said Lilith, smiling as brightly as I
have ever seen her smile. “You look hot, girl; not bad for an old
bag of bones; don’t you think?”

“I do,” she said. “I should think the devil
himself hath dressed me in sin for all I know. But if I must tell
you, I will; it doth pleaseth me.”

“Good. If it pleases you, it pleases me, too.
Now come. We have some business to take care of in Salem before the
day is through.”

“This day?”

“Yes.”

“But are we not still in New
Castle?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Salem is a half night and a day away, even
with a horse of strong and good nature, a carriage can only travel
so swiftly.”

Lilith placed her arm around Ursula’s shoulder
and started her down the path toward the gate. “Yes, but you see I
have a carriage with a couple of hundred horses to spare. It’s
called a Mustang and I feed it high-test.”

“Pray tell, have things changed?”

“Oh, my, yes they have. What once we thought
impossible even through witchcraft is now common occurrence through
our understanding of everyday science and nature. Why, we witches
hardly want for anything anymore.”

“Uh, except for men,” Ursula joked.

To which Lilith returned, “No, we even have a
good substitute for that. It starts with something called
batteries. Let me tell you about it. First you….”

Ursula Bishop:

Strange things of many have I seen with my own
eyes, yet for this new world did I imagined but not. Even the
Grimoire doth pale by comparison to such ways of modern offerings.
Lilith, my dear sister of the coven, how came she to return my
bones to flesh I must wonder. She hath dressed me strangely, doused
my hunger with exotic foods she calls burgers and fries and
quenched my thirst with a bubbling elixir known to the merchant as
cola. Should I live another ten lifetimes I shall see not the
changes in it as I have in living ten hours in this. Remarkable
mysteries and magic of grand scale confront me in manners not
dreamed of by man or beast. Carriages propelled by invisible horses
glide at speeds of which the hawk would envy. Voices in Lilith’s
carriage sing out from a box with music she commands with a simple
twist of a black button. Surely her witchcraft is powerful and she
most conversant with all matters inclusive. I believe I shall learn
much in her providence. `Twas in her carriage that I inquired as to
the nature of our journey.

“To Salem,” she answered presently.

“Aye, for you hath said as much already, but
you saith not why.”

She returned to me a serpent’s grin, to which I
delighted. “Ursula, would you like to get back at the people who
have persecuted our kind for hundreds of years?”

“Our sisters of the coven?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Oh, how thee know it? Their blood doth cry for
vengeance. We are but deaf should we not heed their
pleas?”

“Exactly. So then, that’s where we’re going: to
see the magistrate and to meet the congregation that sat in
condemnation of our souls.”

“The magistrate? He is at Prayer?”

“I’m guessing, seeing I killed his
pastor.”

“Oh, but he is not of human blood, I
fear.”

“He is of ancient blood, but human enough to
spill. Can you tell me his weakness?”

To this I shook my head. “His weakness? What do
I know? You tell me more than I am aware. In my day, the magistrate
held only that power which the people bestowed upon him. But for a
miss-beholding word taken to heart he might succumb to a blight of
confidence, one that could spread like a plague and befall
him.”

“A miss-beholding word, eh?”

“Aye, where power rests on fears of the people,
so doth weakness.”

“Hysteria.” Lilith’s serpent-grin returned
slowly. “Yes, the accused turning the tables on the accusers. I
like that.” She made motion to the back of the carriage upon its
seat. “In the box you will find a couple of old-fashioned looking
dresses…well, maybe not so old-fashioned to you, but get them out
and tell me what you think. Will they let us blend in with the
congregation?”

I did as Lilith asked, questioning not her
intentions, for I believed I knew well her plans. The dresses as I
found were most beautiful, and so I told her. “How came they from
so far to you?”

She looked at me queerly. “How came
they?”

“From so far,” I said, pointing at the collar.
“And with such exquisite stitching.”

She leaned in to read the merchant’s mark. “It
says made in China.”

“
Indeed. Thy witchcraft must be
powerful.”

Strange thought I how funny she found that. I
sat hushed in humility for the journey’s reach, which brought us
presently to a village called Salem, but in ways known not to my
recollect. This village was great and large, perhaps the size of
London Town as I think. Where no cobblestones lined the streets,
there lay a single smooth stretch of earth. Blacktop, Lilith named
it, yet it ebbed and tided like cooled lava, graceful as the
landscape itself. The buildings too were of ole, yet I knew them
not. Glass panes once stingy upon a facade now stood proud in their
employ.

Perhaps most queer if I must say
are the signs abound upon each turn. They speak of witches in a
merry sense.
Come ye to the Witch
Museum
, one shingle offers;
Eat Witch Flavored Ice Cream
another waves. And did we not pass
The Sand Witch Shoppe, The Witch’s Well
and
The Witch Bitch
Bar
? We did most certain, but pray tell
what that is?

Then Lilith revealed unto me the meaning of
this hypocrisy. My beloved village hath gained in profits from the
travesties befallen my kindred souls. I ask them, hath thou not
taken enough in innocence that thee should spare not endless
torment of the restless? What sin hath we to atone beyond a single
lifetime? Be it life itself? I fear indeed, for ought I know my
penance is forever served.

Carlos Rodriquez:

I was sitting at my desk when Dominic called,
his voice in a huff, out of breath for some trot he had taken
through a grassy field somewhere. “Whoa!” I told him. “Slow down,
Dom. Tell me again where you are.”

“I’m driving now. I’m on the road to
Salem.”

“You’re what? Why the hell are you going back
to Salem? I thought you went to pick up Tony.”

“I did, but listen. You’re never gonna believe
this. When I got to Tony’s I spotted Lilith and she…. No, forget
it. We haven’t time for all that now. You’ve got to go and get Tony
and come out here as quickly as possible. Lilith is up to something
big.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m leaving now, but don’t
hang up. I need you to tell me everything, or Tony will go
berserk.”

“All right, but I don’t know where to
start.”

“How `bout at the beginning?”

“The beginning, okay, good. See, I went to go
pick up Tony and when I got there….”

What Dominic told me next seemed
like a wacky dream, especially the part about the naked woman who
looked just like Lilith. I considered maybe it
was
all just in his dreams, seeing
how we had rushed in on Lilith back in the church the night before
and found her…out of her fur, so to speak. But Dominic has a level
head on his shoulders, and I’ve been around Lilith enough to know
that with her, nearly anything is possible. I’ve also been around
Tony enough to know that he wasn’t going to like what I had to tell
him. For that reason, I filled him in as much as I could over the
phone before I got to his house. All things considered, I think he
took it well.

“She did WHAT?” Okay, maybe he didn’t take it
so well.

“She brought Ursula back.”

“Back? You mean like she conjured up a good
likeness of her in some smoky, phantom-ish apparition?”

“No, I mean like a real flesh-n-blood
person.”

“Impossible.”

“Tony, you say impossible, but you
know with Lilith anything
is
possible. So don’t shoot the messenger. I’m
simply telling you that’s what Dominic said and it’s all I know.
Ursula is back and he’s following them to Salem.”

“Why are they going to Salem?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say, but I’m coming to
get you. Are you ready?”

Tony was barely in the car when he started in
on the inquisition again. To shut him up, I pulled out my cell
phone and pushed send on speed dial before handing it to
him.

“What’s this?” he said.

“It’s ringing. Say hello.”

He put the phone to his ear, and his end of the
conversation went something like: “You’re damn right I am. What the
hell’s going on Spinelli?”

I could hear Dominic’s voice in a stutter, but
could not make out his exact words. I suppose it would have been
better had I warned him before putting Tony on, but what the hell;
where’s the fun in that?

“No, Spinelli, forget it,” said Tony, making a
slashing motion with his hand to terminate Dominic’s ramblings.
“Listen, where are you now? You still have them in sight? Uh-oh,
what do you mean, uh-oh? Dominic, tell me what’s going on. What?
Oh, great. Forget it. Stay there. We’ll get you.”

He handed the phone back to me and shook his
head. “The little fucker ran out of gas. He’s stuck on the side of
the road outside Salem.”

“What about Lilith?”

“She’s gone,” he said, which was all I could
say for Tony’s patience, as well.

We caught up with Dominic about fifteen minutes
later. He had pulled over on the side of the road and was sitting
on the hood of the car with his feet up on the bumper and his head
on his knees. Tony wouldn’t even look at him. I gave a toot on the
horn to get his attention. He hopped down in a sulk and climbed
into the back seat. I’ve got to say, sometimes Tony can bottle up
his emotions, but he can’t hide the fact when he’s pissed. This
time was no different. The tension between him and Dominic was as
tight as ever I had seen it; worse even than when Dominic screwed
up at the train station by not radioing the northbound train to
stop while Lilith was still on it. Listening to Tony, you’d have
thought Dominic wasn’t even in the car.

“So, how far ahead of us is she?” Tony asked. I
heard Dom clear his throat to answer, but got cut off when Tony
added, “Carlos?”

I looked at him puzzled. “I don’t know. Why
don’t you ask Dom—”

“I said how far?”

I glanced into the mirror at Dominic and saw
him flash ten fingers twice. “Twenty minutes,” I said.

“Does she have a phone?”

Dominic shook his head.

“No. We retrieved it at the train station. It’s
broken. Unless she has yours then—”