Page 1 of The Sea Witch
Chapter One
Massachusetts
1719
The cold thick shadows of midnight were her only safety.
Alys Tanner galloped her stolen horse into the shelter of a stand of trees. Pulling sharply on the reins, she urged her mount to stop within the white oaks’ sanctuary. The trees shifted and rustled with the wind, whispering sullenly to themselves, resenting her presence. These woods had protected Alys her whole life, given her a haven when she needed to hide. Yet now she wasn’t welcome, a fugitive, even as she hoped the oaks’ shadows hid her.
She closed her eyes and concentrated, reaching out to the night, drawing on its darkness. Though she was half a mile from the ocean, the water was near enough, strengthening the power within her so the night thickened into a briny scented cloak that hid her and her horse.
Beneath her, the anxious animal stepped sideways. It tossed its head, making the hardware of its bridle jingle. She leaned forward as best she could with her skirts wound around her legs to ride astride, and stroked the horse’s damp neck in an attempt to soothe it.
The beast wasn’t familiar with magic. In Norham, and small villages up and down the Colonies’ coast, power such as Alys’swas always ruthlessly stamped out the moment it appeared. Any boy who showed magical aptitude went to be educated at the academies and make his fortune in the larger towns. Any girl who failed to hide her supernatural ability was killed.
She tried to quiet the horse, yet there was no one to soothe her own rattling nerves.
Hoofbeats thundered on the road and the glow of torches streaked past.
She held her breath as the mounted group of pursuers drew to a halt. They gathered in a circle in the middle of the road, not thirty feet from her. Her mantle of magic-summoned shadows clung to her and her horse. For now.
A dozen men massed, all of them as known to her as her own blood kin. Some of themwereher blood kin. They wore cloaks over their rough fishermen’s clothing, the hoods pulled up and low, but she recognized them just the same.
“Her house is empty.” The glow of torchlight shone on Lawrence Charles’s face, his expression twisted by anger and the dancing flame.
“You should have waited,” Constable John Vale protested.
“The dresser drawers were on the floor, clothes were scattered.”
“How did she know we were coming for her?” Vale growled. “Her magic?”
“How would I know?”
“You could’ve warned her. Or maybe sheisthere, and you’re lying.”
“Alys may be my cousin,” Lawrence threw back, “but there’s as much love between us as two stones. ’Struth, I can well believe she’s a witch in league with the devil. Since she was in leading strings, she had an uncanny way about her. The way she spoke to the sea, the fire in her eyes whenever the moon was full. And then when her husband died—”
“When shemurderedhim,” Quinton Brown said grimly.“Used her magic to strike him down upon the deck of his own boat so she could take the vessel for herself.”
The men muttered prayers.
It wasn’t true. Samuel Tanner had possessed a weak heart, which proved to be his doom. Yet if these men believed Alys had been the agent of his death, her fate was cast.
“It’s in her blood,” Vale grumbled. “That sister of hers, Ellen—”
“Keep that woman’s name from your lips,” Davy Smythe said quickly. “The sister may be dead, but witches can have power from beyond the grave. In Virginia, they burned one at the stake. With her last breath, she cursed her executioners, and three days later, those that brought her to the stake and lit the flames all died of putrid fevers. Speak no more of Alys Tanner’s sister.”
Hot tears burned Alys’s eyes, and she blinked them back.
“The sooner Alys is at the end of a noose,” Lawrence vowed, “the happier I’ll be.”
“The happieranyof us will be,” Quinton snapped. “The road to the east past the village is cut off to her.”
“Dougan and the others have the roads out of Norham watched,” Vale said, confident. “None of Alys Tanner’s witches will get far.”
“Unless they use their infernal magic to take to the skies,” Quinton pointed out, and the men cast their fearful gazes up to the dark night above.
Despite her fear, Alys nearly laughed. How powerful did they think her to be? She was still learning the limits of her magic, so long suppressed. Flight was one art she’d yet to attempt.
