I stumble in the dark and my heart leaps before I recover my footing.
I pause, clutching little Devon closer, terrified of dropping his precious weight and just as terrified of the stillness of his form. I squeeze my eyes shut and send a prayer to God that my magick wasn't too much.
The mob had come so fast, so much faster than we had thought. Hetty’s feet must have flown her to the Reverend. There had been no time to pack the cart, less to hitch it to the mare and take ourselves to safety. Only my magick had allowed our escape, allowed us to slip past the storekeeper, waiting at our back door with a torch.
There had been so much confusion, so much fear, and the mare had taken all of my magick to heal. I had reached past the empty tangle of power in my belly, reached once more for the earth, when little Devon had clutched at my leg. Thick and rich the power poured through me, igniting the spell on my lips and wrapping confusion around the storekeeper’s eyes. My son sank to the ground at my feet, his face pale, a small part of his life absorbed by the spell.
For several moments I stood horrified, looking down at my son’s crumpled form. Then Jack yelled at me to run and I scooped little Devon into my arms, feeling his heart beat against my chest, and fled, dashing past the storekeeper’s sightless eyes.
Now the breeze at my back brings the whiff of burning wood and my heart leaps. I glance over my shoulder and see the vague glow of the mob's torches over the rise. They are gaining on me.
A faint noise escapes my lips as I look frantically towards the tree line. I have to reach it before they top the rise or all is lost.
Jack is already gone, taken by the mob. I heard our front door splintering as I ran, and knew my husband was not running behind us as he had promised. I dashed through darkness towards the barn, Devon still clutched close, his arms and legs dangling limp by my sides. I reached its dense shadow and turned. The mob had surrounded our house, lighting the night with fire, the Reverend at their head.
People spilled from the front door and my heart clenched when I saw Jack struggling in their midst. They jerked to a halt before the Reverend. The old man leaned forward. Jack screamed. I wanted to scream with him and bit my lip till it bled. I saw Jack crumple, disappearing behind a curtain of bodies. The Reverend shouted and raised something that glinted in the torchlight. I didn’t see him bring it down, instead I turned and ran. From behind me Jack screamed again.
The field is soft and my feet sink and slide in the furrowed earth. I cross the field as fast as my sodden skirts will allow. My breath comes in rasps and the faint taste of blood coats the back of my throat. My limbs are tired and Devon is heavy in my arms, but the knowledge of the mob at my back and the memory of Jack’s horrifying screams keep me moving.
Faster, faster until I fear tripping over my own feet. Twice I risk a look over my shoulder and each time the glow over the rise is brighter. The tree line is close, but not close enough. My heart pounds in my ears, louder and louder as I run. It’s not loud enough to drown the sudden braying of the hounds.
Oh my Lord, let me reach the trees before they see me.
Only a dozen yards before I'm safe and again I glance over my shoulder. My blood freezes and my feet with it. A silhouette, torch in hand, stands against the sky.
Convulsively I clutch Devon tighter.
They've found me, oh dear Lord in Heaven, they've found me!
A movement from the figure on the rise sends liquid fire through my veins and I start to run.
I hear a shout and fear lends speed to my feet but the short distance to the trees still seems like a mile.