“Maybe I should shave my head or carve up my face. Surely he won’t want me anymore if I’m bald and disfigured.”
“I—” Her words shock me into silence. I don’t recognize her.
She stares, disappointment collecting beneath her brows. “Leave if you don’t want to watch.”
Finally finding my voice, I plead with her, “There must be another way to resolve this.”
Her vacant eyes still hold fragments of accusation. I’m not confrontational. I’ve never been good with verbal arguments. Every time I try to stand up for myself, I get trampled by someone more gifted with the spoken word.
Even now, the right words escape me. The truth? It’s cowardly, but I don’t want to be here when she tells them of those horrible things.
I’m waiting for the perfect words. For the moment of clarity to ring through my thoughts and grant me just the right things to say, to handle this uncomfortable situation. They don’t come.
“Just go, Emeline.”
My stomach is knotted, throat swollen and tight.
As I turn to leave, she calls out, “You know I’m not the only one.”
I pause.
Alesia’s hand on my shoulder startles me into spinning back around. I didn’t hear her descend the platform. Her eyes are wide and wild. “He’s a demon, Em.”
The shaking of her palm can be felt even through the thick fabric of my sleeve. I nod. “If the rumors are true, he truly has acted like a demon.”
“No.” She shakes her head, lip quivering. Fear bleeds into the emptiness in her eyes. “He’s a demon. I don’t know when it happened, but he changed. Surely you must sense something is off about him as of late.”
Her words bring unwanted thoughts to the forefront of my mind. Therehavebeen changes, shifts in the way our town is run beneath the watchful eye of Reverend Statton. “He had a revelation?—”
“You can’t possibly be so naive,” Alesia snaps, her face blooming red with frustration. “Haven’t you ever caught the moment his eyes shift? Can’t you see what he has become? He found that book and everything changed.” Her speech is too fast, almost manic.
“What book?” I ask.
Her voice drops to a whisper. “The spell book. Dark magic.” She wraps her arms around herself. “There were times I wasin his office, before he changed, for innocent reasons. I liked to help him prepare for his sermons. Maybe I’ve always had a crush on him. He’s wise, well spoken… But I saw it.The book. He said it called to him from within the earth. He worked his way through it, page by page, making notes and crossing out spells that didn’t work. He became angry and different. I barely recognized the way he treated me and the others.” She swallows, eyes brimming with tears.
Fear and disbelief make it difficult for me to swallow this information. “Spells and magic? That goes against everything he’s taught us. Why look for spells? What were his intentions if he had found one that worked?”
“Hedidfind one that worked. Everything got worse after that. Everything got so much worse. He brought something here. Summoned something.”
Her revelation strikes at my holy-sealed heart. Years of religious conditioning push the words from my mouth before I can properly absorb what she’s said. “Reverend Statton wouldn’t. That’s witchcraft. The devil’s work. It’s against everything he stands for.”
She gives me a sad smile, and the emotion that’s broken through begins to fade. “You’ll see things clearly soon enough. I just hope it won’t be too late for you, too.”
“Alesia, you’re unwell. Let us get you home to rest. I’ve new apples for a pie. Come.” I offer her my hand.
That cold, vacant, dead look returns to her eyes. Chills prickle along my arms beneath my flowing sleeves. In this moment, she’s a stranger.
“Leave. I do not blame you for not wanting to see what comes next.” Alesia turns her back to me and re-ascends the town square’s wooden platform.
My stomach twists as I take the dirt path home. ‘Coward,’ the voice in my head jeers. She seemed so convinced. But thereare no such thing as demons. Well, there are. But they’re sent to test you and corrupt you. That doesn’t sound like Reverend Statton. The knots in my stomach tighten as I think of all the recent whispers pertaining to him and his proclivities. I always assumed those rumors were spread to test us. To strengthen our bond to the church and our leader when we ignored them and stayed true to our righteous paths.
What if the whispers were true?
The cool of the doorknob is jarring against my hot, sweaty palm. Though our humble home welcomes me, I find little comfort in its familiar walls. The autumn chill has seeped into my bones. Tending to the fire, I try not to think about Alesia’s accusations or what may be happening now. I sit on the couch, working on my latest knitting project. It’s a blanket large enough for both Leed and I. Or it will be when I finish it. Come winter, we’ll be properly married and snuggled up beneath it.
I’m distracted as I work, causing error after error in my knitting. Eventually I give up. Pulling the half-finished blanket up to my chin, I curl up on the couch and close my eyes.
Leed storms through the front door, jolting me from my fireside nap. He kneels before our bible on the kitchen table, speaking quick, quiet words. Our cabin is dark, the fire gone cold. It’s nighttime? I must have been asleep for hours.
