Chapter Twenty-Eight: Winifred Drake

The Year 1515

Pee Dee Settlement, NC

The meeting did not result in the majority of witches voting for Sorcha and Lana's execution.

The vote was unanimous.

With Henry leading the way, forcing Winifred to witness the trial, the girls were carted back to the river by the witches, many of them only following as curious spectators. When they reached the river, Winifred was horrified to learn that the girls would not be thrown into the river as the witches of Europe were. They were to be held down and drowned.

"They cannot drown if they have been turned," Henry justified. "If they have not yet turned, they would still need to be put to death to ensure they do not turn. Drowning them will accomplish this."

Lana was the first to be removed from the back of the cart, with the witches' magic rendering her hazy and unsteady as she was pulled to her feet and led to the river.

When Sorcha was then dragged towards the edge of the cart, her uncle took a moment to speak to her. Sorcha refused to look him in the eye, instead choosing to focus on Winifred, the only one of the witches who had defended her. Alone and broken with her blood pounding in her ears, the chanting of nearby witches keeping her weak and docile, she almost missed her uncle's words. Finally his voice came into focus.

"I cannot spare your friend, Sorcha, because she is a stranger to our settlement and the witches do not trust her," Henry explained. "But if you tell me which of the vampir did this to you both, then you will not have to undergo this trial. You will have a quick death by hanging, your body will be burnt, and I will even bury your ashes, but you must tell me if any other vampir are among us."

Sorcha's eyes remained on Winifred. Lana had told her of Winifred's promise to help them. As much as she hated Gabe for what he had done to Lana, she also knew that Winifred loved him. If she betrayed Winifred now, their only possible saviour was lost. So she accepted her fate and shook her head at her uncle.

Henry sighed in disappointment, gesturing for an attendant to continue taking her towards the river.

The girls were handed to four male witches who then marched them at either side into the water. When it was chest-high, Henry commanded them to stop. He proceeded to announce the purpose of the trial as Sorcha gazed at the water below, watching the reflection of the green trees opposite them bounce across the surface. She tried not to think about how Lana was feeling. Nor did she try to think about her still clinging onto the hope of Winifred's promise. Knowing that Lana would still need to feed to turn even if she did survive, Sorcha had less hope for being saved. Would Winifred really accept another of the vampir in the settlement after everything that had happened? She doubted it.

Sorcha tried to commit to memory the feeling of breathing as her uncle ended his speech. Neither of them were one of the vampir. With the time her uncle was giving them to survive underwater, they were going to die this way. She felt the two witches behind her take hold of her; one hand on each shoulder, one of each of their hands on her head. She took her final breath.

Then she was plunged underneath the water.

Winifred watched from the river bank. The girls were close enough to each other but they were already panicking, their arms aimlessly hitting the water as though it would become solid enough for them to pull themselves above the surface. Then she noticed Lana's body slacken, with only one arm still outstretched, trying to reach for Sorcha.

The spell was working.

Winifred had been able to visit Lana before her meeting with the witches at noon. The girls were kept separately from each other and she only had time to see one of them. She chose Lana, believing, out of both of them, that Lana had more need of her. Winifred was able to offer Lana a spell to breathe underwater, but in order to share the spell, Sorcha had to stop struggling long enough for Lana to take her hand.

Sorcha couldn't hold her breath any longer, the pressure building inside her was too great. When the air finally burst out of her and a reflex gasp took hold, she drew water into her lungs, the resulting cough to clear her airway only succeeded in sucking in more water. She was choking. She was burning. Pressure was building. She was trapped in a cycle of her body forcing her to find air, only to take in more water. She wanted it to stop but it wouldn't. She was out of control of her own body.

Then she felt a hand take hold of hers and the next reflexive gasp was one of air.

Sorcha opened her eyes, expecting to see the sky, or the trees, or even the heavens, but the muddy-green water remained around her. She relaxed, accepting her position underneath the water, calm, peaceful, the sun beating down upon her back, the hand in hers offering life. She squeezed the hand back in appreciation, remembering that it was Lana beside her. They were both going to be okay. Winifred had kept her promise.

When they were both finally pulled up out of the water and their contact broke, the sensation of drowning reappeared and both Sorcha and Lana coughed water back out into the river. As much as they wanted to be as far away from the water as possible, their heads remained bowed, heaving until their airway felt dry enough to stand.

Their clothes and hair clinging to them, they looked back at the crowd of witches beside the river. While their audience was muttering in stunned distraction, Sorcha and Lana turned towards each other simultaneously, falling into the greatest hug they ever needed. A hug that was quickly ripped away from them by the witches that had tried to drown them. The spell that had previously subdued them return too soon for them to fully recover from the ordeal, and they both slumped down into the water, forcing the witches to carry them out.

Sorcha saw Winifred walk away from the crowd at the same time she heard her uncles words.

"Take them to the Hanging Fields," he commanded. "They are to be hanged and their bodies burned."

Winifred hurried back to her cottage where Zaif was waiting for her, pacing around anxiously. She slammed the door behind her, going immediately to where she kept the amulet, which she grabbed, along with her grimoire from a nearby shelf.

"Did it work?" Zaif was almost too scared to find out.

"Yes, it worked," Winifred confirmed. "But now a far more dangerous spell is needed." She sat down at the round table in the center of the room, placing the amulet flat against the wood and the grimoire beside it, then began opening the pages. Using a quill and ink, she added words to the chosen spell.

"What are you doing?" Zaif asked, sitting opposite her.

"Magic must not be used to punish innocents," she explained, continuing to write. "It is a sin, just as my own sins are contained inside this amulet." Drops of ink fell to the table as she rushed to remove the quill from the ink each time she wrote. She didn't have much time, and she struggled to find the right words, the spell being far older than the terminology used to describe much of the supernatural in her time. "The blood of the vampir within Lana. The blood of an innocent human within Sorcha. Finally..." she said, using a pin to prick her finger, dripping blood onto the amulet, "the blood of a witch." The spell was finally written. "If you can get to them fast enough, this spell can save them, but you will need to find another witch to act as an amplifier, releasing the spell from the amulet."

"Then come with me," Zaif told her.

"No," she said, standing to take a candle from a nearby shelf before returning to the table, lighting it with her magic. "It cannot be me. It is dangerous to act as the amplifier, the power drained from the witch is too great, and I will not put myself at risk when Gabe is to return. Besides, my sins have already been cast into this amulet. It is now the sins of the other witches that need cleansing." The candle started to melt and Winifred tilted it over the stones in the amulet, dropping wax onto each one. "Into each of these stones I am burning the symbol of man, witch and vampir. Our greatest sin is not living in harmony with one another." She scratched off the wax, revealing the symbols now burned into the stones. "This is now a talisman to correct that, whichever way it sees fit. But the one thing it will do, is save an innocent girl."

"Two need to be saved," he reminded her.

Winifred took his hand, placing the newly-created talisman into it. "Due to the blood of the vampir in Lana, I cannot guarantee this spell will save her the way she needs to be saved. Your duty is to save Sorcha. You don't have much time. Take this to the Hanging Fields now. Find a witch to place their hand on it to release its power before she is executed. Go now."

Zaif wasted no time in taking the talisman from Winifred and running to the nearby Hanging Fields almost a mile away. He ran until he felt as though his lungs were going to burst. There was only one area of execution: a tall oak tree at the edge of the largest field. A timber platform that was over seven foot tall had been built below the thickest tree branch merely months after the settlement formed. While intended to be used for public hangings, there had never been one until now. Instead the platform had been used for performances, speeches and storytelling. He had even attended some of these events with Sorcha. He never imagined she might live her final moments there.

By the time he arrived, Sorcha and Lana were already on the platform. Two nooses had been thrown over the high branch, ready for their execution. The crowd consisted almost solely of witches, excited to finally witness their revenge upon the vampir that had plagued them throughout their lives in Europe. There had to be at least eight or nine dozen witches in attendance, likely the entirety of their witch community.

From the crowd, Zaif could see his cousin Omar coming towards him, carrying the infant Cecily in his arms, who was no more than two years in age.

"She was saying goodbye to her mother," Omar said. "We are now leaving and you should too. This is not something you want to witness."

"I'm not here to witness it, I'm here to save her," Zaif said, marching past him and into the crowd.

Omar followed him. "Zaif, there's too much magic being used, ensuring this execution goes ahead. There's nothing that can be done."

Zaif paid no attention to him as he already began appealing to witches to place their hand on the talisman to activate the spell. None of them would comply. He looked up towards the platform. Words were being yelled into the crowd, informing everyone of the outcome of the trial. The noose was already being placed over Lana's neck. Sorcha was sobbing, terrified for both of them, while scanning her eyes over the crowd, no doubt looking for Winifred to save them. The desperation on her face becoming more evident the longer she searched.

Zaif pushed his way closer, ensuring that it was his face she saw. He ignored Omar beside him who was still encouraging him to leave.

Finally, Sorcha's eyes met his.

When he mouthed the words, I love you, the only response she could give him was a broken nod, her face cracking in grief and regret as tears spilled down her face.

Then Lana was shoved from the platform, the noose snapping her neck on the fall below.