Here is the second chapter! Hope you like, and please, if you like the story then don't just favorite it, review! Or I won't know if I should continue…XD
Within minutes the harsh wind gentled, and the snow stopped falling. A warmer breeze came to replace the bitter cold, and my shivering eased. I was still far from comfortable, bent this way, unable to relieve the ache in my back. But I knew my mother must be suffering far more than I, for her body was older than mine. Yet she did not complain I took strength from that, and vowed to keep my discomfort to myself.
"Hard times await us, my daughter," she told me. "But whatever happens tomorrow, Bella, you must remember what I tell you now. Promise me you will."
"I promise," I whispered. "But mother, you mustn't confess anything to them. Not even to save me. I couldn't live if you were to die." The thought terrified me, and I pulled my hands against the rough wood that held them prisoner, though I could not hope to work them free. She was all I had in this world. All I had.
"Perhaps this is my destiny," she said softly. "But 'tis not yours."
"How can you know that?"
"I know," she whispered. "I've known from the day you were born, child. By the birthmark you bear upon your right hip. The crescent." Tears burned my eyes. But my mother went on. "You're a far more powerful Witch than I have ever been, Bella."
"No. 'Tis not true. I can barely cast a decent circle."
She laughed then, softly, and the sound of it touched my heart. That she could laugh at a time like this only made me love and respect her more than I already did, though I'd never have thought it possible.
"I speak not of the form of ritual, but the force, Bella. The power is strong in you. And you will need that strength. When this is over, child, you must leave here. Go to the New World. My sister, Eleanor, is there, in a township called Sanctuary, in the colony of Massachusetts. She is not a Witch, and knows nothing of our ways. She was born of my father's faithlessness and raised by her own mother and not in our household. But she is kind. She will not turn you away."
"Perhaps not," I said. "But I will not leave you behind."
"I fear 'tis I who will leave you behind, my darling. 'Tis the night of the dark moon, when our powers ebb low. But even were our lady of the moon shining her full light down upon us, I doubt I could save myself. Do not cry for me, Bella. Dying is part of living, a birth into a new life. You know this."
"Oh, Mother, stop saying such things!" I cried loudly, sobbing and choking on my tears.
When Mother spoke again, I could hear tears in her voice as well. "Bella listen to me. You must listen."
I tried to quiet myself, to do as she wished but I vowed she would not die tomorrow. Somehow I would save her.
"When 'tis over," she told me, "You must return to our cottage in the village. But do so by night, and be very careful. You mustn't be seen. Do not wait too long, child, lest they burn the house in their vengeance or award it to Esme's family in return for her testimony against us. You must go back in secret. Gather only what you will need for your journey. Then go to the hearth. There is a loose stone there. Take what you find hidden beyond that stone."
"But, Mother—"
"And take the horse, if she is still there, you may sell her in some other village. But take care. Should you meet anyone, do not tell them your true name. And as soon as you can, book passage on a ship to the New World. Now promise me you will do these things."
"I'll not let them kill you. Mother."
"There is nothing you can do to prevent it, child. I'll have your promise, though, and I will die in peace because of it. Promise me, Bella."
Sniffling, I muttered, "I promise."
"Good." She sighed, so deeply it seemed as if some great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. "Good," she whispered once more, and then she rested. Slept, perhaps. I could not be sure. I cried in silence from then on, not wishing to trouble my Mother with my tears. But I think she knew.
When dawn came, it brought with it the magistrate, and beside him a woman, looking distraught with red-rimmed eyes. Behind them walked a man who wore the robes of a priest. He had an aged face, thin and harsh, with a hooked nose that made me think of a hawk, or some other hungering bird of prey. He was pale, as if he were ill, or weak. And then they came closer, and I could see only their feet, for I could not tip my head back enough to see more.
"Renee St. James," the Magistrate said, "you and your daughter are charged with the crime of Witchcraft. Will you confess to your crimes?"
My mother's voice was weaker now, and I could hear the pain in it. "I will confess only if you release my daughter. She is guilty of nothing."
"No," the woman said in a shrill voice. "You must execute them now, Jacob. Both of them!"
"But the law—" he began.
"The law! What care do you have for the law when our own child has become ill overnight? What more proof do you need?"
At her words my heart fell. She blamed us or her child's illness, just as my aunt had done. No one could save us now.
I heard footsteps then, and sensed the magistrate had gone closer to my mother. Leaning over her, he said, "Lift this curse, woman. Lift it now, I beg of you."
"I have brought no curse upon you, nor your family, sir," my mother told him. "Were it in my power to help your child, I would gladly do so. As I would have for my own husband and for my nephew. But I cannot."
"Execute them!" his wife shouted. "Michael was fine until you arrested these two! They brought this curse on him, made him ill out of pure vengeance, I tell you, and if they live long enough to kill him, they will! Execute them, husband. 'Tis the only way to save our son!"
The priest stepped forward then, his black robes hanging heavily about his feet and dragging them through the wet snow. His steps were slow, as if they cost him a great effort. He went first to my mother, saying nothing, and I could not see what he did. But he came seconds later to me and closed his hand briefly around mine.
A surge of something, a crackling, shocking sensation jolted my hand and sizzled into my forearm, startling me so that I cried out.
"Do not harm my daughter!" my mother shouted.
The priest took his hand away, and the odd sensation vanished with his touch, leaving me shaken and confused. What had it been?
OK well I am cutting this short, so deal. I don't think I am gonna update unless I get at least a couple of reviews. Ciao!