those years ago. Tearing and scratching at her captor, to no avail. Isabel clutched at Rowena’s arm from beside her. Blood bloomed where Isabel’s fingers dug into her skin. Isabel’s mother was being dragged away, beside her own. A scream lodged in Rowena’s throat. She knew if she screamed, if she dared to make a noise, she and Isabel would be taken along with their mothers.
While she never saw what happened, she found out later the women had been burned alive. Set on fire for the crime of curing ailments. What the townsfolk believed was devil magic, was in truth the work of herbal remedies.
Rowena blinked away the tears, but not the memory. She drew in a deep breath and stretched her arms above her head. She swallowed then poked her tongue out. A taste like damp moss clung to her tongue.
Then the cottage door swung open and she cried out in fear but calmed down when Hawthorn bustled into the room. A collection of twigs and leaves had made themselves at home in Hawthorn’s long white hair which now flew about in all directions. In one hand she held two skinned rabbits and in the other a basket of plump red berries.
“It was not easy but I caught us breakfast, lunch, and tea in one go!” she wheezed, holding the rabbits up.
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
“What trouble?”
Rowena’s eyes traveled up to Hawthorn’s hair and she stifled a smile. Hawthorn looked up.
“Oh, it’s no trouble. I always look this good in the morning, by the way.”
Rowena’s stomach growled.
Hawthorn placed the rabbits and berries onto the table, then walked over to Rowena and stood in front of her.
Rowena glanced at the rabbits. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but I don’t usually eat animals.”
Hawthorn blinked. “You didn’t seem to mind it last night when you scoffed down me stew.”
“I-I thought that was vegetable stew.”
“It was. Vegetable with bits of chicken scattered about.”
Rowena’s belly lurched.
“Come on. A mouthful of bread every now and then isn’t enough to keep a young woman going.” Hawthorn grinned. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll cook a big meal and you can decide if you want to eat it.”
Rowena nodded. “At least let me help.”
Hawthorn took a very sharp knife out of the leather sheath that hung from her belt. “Since you like vegetables so much, how about you chop em up.
Hawthorn diced the rabbits and plopped them into a bubbling cauldron along with onions, carrots, and herbs. A delicious aroma drifted from the stew and filled the room.
Rowena sat at the table and watched as Hawthorn continued to throw ingredients in the pot. “Do you know where they are taking the women from my village?” she asked.
Hawthorn stopped and sighed. “I expect they will be taken to the city.”
“What happens there?”
“They will be put into prisons then put on trial.”
“Like my mother?” Rowena looked down at her lap.
“Yes, my child.” Hawthorn wise black eyes locked onto Rowena’s green ones,
and Rowena saw something in those eyes she’d never seen before. Raw grief.
Rowena’s eyes drifted towards the ornate book sitting on the table. Hawthorn followed her gaze.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” said Hawthorn, reading Rowena’s thoughts.
“Yes. I’m quite taken by it. There’s something other than its beauty. It’s…”
“Magical.” Hawthorn finished Rowena’s sentence for her.
“It is. May I read it?”
“One day you will read it.” Hawthorn stirred the rabbit stew. “Rowena, I don’t know if you realize it yet, but there is a very long journey ahead of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“The villagers that were taken last night. They need your help. You cannot imagine what is happening to them.”
“What’s happening to them?” Rowena's throat tightened.
“First, they will be tortured until they admit they are witches. If they admit it, they will be burnt at the stake.” Hawthorn lowered her head, closed her eyes.
Rowena wondered what type of beast could do a thing like that to another person. “What if they don’t admit to being a witch?” she asked.
“They are still burnt at the stake. If they don’t die first from the torture.”
Rowena’s hands tingled. She felt like she might lose the use of her limbs at any moment. “What do I have to do?”
“There’s nothing we can do to save these women. Not their bodies anyway.” Hawthorn mixed dough in a bowl. “But what I want you to do is to travel to Witches Hill and try to make the last terrifying days of these women bearable. They need to know they will be looked after.” They sat