Page 69 of The Witch and His Crow

‘The witch,’ I said, louder this time, the noise from the crowd thunderous, ‘It’s Romy. The Witch Hunters have Romy.’

Arwyn held me in return, propping me up with strong arms, his brow knitted in concern. ‘Calm down. Breathe. Nothing is going to happen to Romy. We are all getting out of this alive. I swear it.’

I reached out for my Gift, but it was as silent as ever. Usually, with the power behind me, I could face anything put before me.

Perhaps I felt the set of eyes on me, or maybe it was the magic of a witch’s intuition, but I looked up just at the moment Eleanor Letcombe exited her house. Our gazes locked. I knew I didn’t need to explain what was happening for her to understand the severity.

‘Help us,’ I mouth, making Arwyn follow my gaze to find who I was communicating with. ‘Please.’

Eleanor gritted her teeth, looked towards the gathering crowd of Witch Hunters and village-folk in the heart of the village, then turned her back on me. She went back into her house and closed the door. I was confident I heard the sliding of a bolt even from our distance.

So much for the greatest witch of our time.

My head ached, my mind grasping for a plan. But whenever one came to mind it slipped away, like a feather caught on a breeze. Then I was running, running towards the Witch Hunters and the screams of accusations. Arwyn chased behind me, calling my name, but it didn’t matter. All I cared about was reaching Romy.

‘Back off,Caym.’ I forced out the command to my familiar.‘A wild creature attacking Witch Hunters, will only point more fingers at Romy. It’s not natural.’

‘It is beyond that now, Hector. Her guilt has been decided, death awaits her. You gave me a command to protect her, and now you want me to stand down?’

A circle formed around the village’s main square. I clawed my way through the wall of people, pushing them out of the way until I saw Romy.‘Yes, stand down until I tell you otherwise’

Caym’s frustration pierced me like a hot poker, but I didn’t care. Not as my eyes finally settled on Romy. She was being tied to a wooden post that I first believed to be a maypole, or something put there for some other benign purpose. Turned out villages in the fifteen hundreds just erected wooden pyres for the fun of it. History forgot that detail.

Romy’s hair was wild around her face, her expression oddly calm for the situation. I willed for her to look at me, but her gaze was pinned to another. I followed it, just as the person she glared at spoke out.

‘I saw her. Communing with the devil, offering her soul up to him.’

Even after everything I had seen so far, it was this person which turned my blood to ice. Jaz, the earth-witch contestant of the Witch Trials. She stood amongst the crowd, dressed in similar clothes, blending herself in just as Arwyn and I had. No doubt she had killed for the clothes, snatching the material from the corpse of an innocent person.

Jaz’s finger was levelled, pointing towards Romy. If looks could kill, Romy would’ve sliced Jaz’s body open with her eyes alone, rooted through her organs, and left them a tangled mess of death.

Arwyn must’ve noticed her too, because his grasp on my upper arm tightened. ‘Now isn’t the time for running in and being the hero.’

‘I can’t leave Romy to die,’ I said through gritted teeth.

‘That’s not what I’m saying we’ll do.’ Arwyn’s gaze swept around the bustling village. ‘If we could break down the shield around the village, we could get our gifts back.’

‘It won’t work,’ I said, mind swimming. ‘Eleanor said her blood is the key. Only she can break the shield down, and I get the impression she doesn’t want to help.’

‘Then we fight,’ Arwyn said, head jolting towards the line of Witch Hunters.

I longed to spin around and punch something. To crack my knuckles into a Witch Hunter’s jaw. Instead, I fixed my eyes on Arwyn, pleading and desperate.

‘Please don’t let her die,’ I begged him. ‘Help me.’

‘Hector,’ Arwyn breathed, his sky-bright eyes flashing with mischief. ‘You’ll be the death of me. I sense it.’

He leaned in so suddenly, I thought he was going to kiss me. My instinct was to turn my head, so my cheek was offered and cover my mouth with my hands. No one kissed me. Not Arwyn, even if he tried to make a spectacle more damning than a witch being found dancing naked in the forest. But instead, he leaned into my ear and whispered, ‘one chance, that’s all we get.’

Then Arwyn spun on the man beside him, cocked a fist and drove it into his face. I was knocked backwards, just as Arwyn spun again and smacked another man in head. All whilst screaming, ‘my wife is no witch! Leave her. She is no servant of the devil. She ismine.’

If I thought chaos ruled the village before, I was wrong. Witch Hunters ran towards Arwyn, who fought with a skill no man in this time should possess. He was able to take a sword from a Witch Hunter’s belt, using it to keep the growing crowd around him away.

‘Caym,’ I shouted to the sky. ‘Time to come back.’

My familiar speared towards us, a bullet made of feathers. I spun on my heel and ran to the pyre. There was a handful ofWitch Hunters fussing over Romy, who did nothing but smile at me. I had two choices—fight my way around them, or go through them. But fighting was certainly the joining thread between the two.

‘Excuse me, good sirs, but you’ve got the wrong woman,’ I said, mocking a bow. One of them held a burning torch, which Caym promptly snatched from his hand, flying it skyward before dropping it into the river. ‘My sister is a devoted child of god.’ As if to help my case, Romy began wailing what could only be a prayer right from The Book of Blessings. ‘The real witch is?—’

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