Page 25 of The Bairwick Witches
“Those who had crossed the lake with them, and who believed the coven were siblings looking for a new life, also saw the opportunity of the area, and they agreed to build a settlement together. Siphen, blessed with the gift of divination, led the community to the perfect spot to build, and they advised on the best times and places to plant and to hunt.
Siphen also saw the arrival of a railroad surveyor a couple of years later. The surveyor was originally meant to be hundreds of miles away, but the coven, sensing potential, intervened—causing the surveyor to become lost, disoriented, and injured, until he stumbled upon the small settlement of Bairwick. There, Xenio aided in healing him and then kept him satisfied until he fully recovered, which led him to choose a new path for the planned railroad.
“Being a stop along the railway brought a whole different kind of life to the growing town. The main street quickly became a bustling strip of shops, along with the coven’s tavern and inn, the very same one we’re in right now. Through spells, and the real magic—sex-work, the coven proved most successful, and generously shared the prosperity with the entire community, ensuring all of Bairwick thrived.
“As I told you the other night, it only takes one ofthemto wreak havoc. And Bairwick’s first one, and only, was John Hausman. He’d led the settlers to and across the lake, but overtime, he became disenchanted. The settles chose the coven’s leadership, over his. A role they had naturally assumed thanks to their mystical intuition, which brought them consecutive successes, bringing bounty to all. Jealous, and unable to ever fully accept their help, or their non-binary presenting selves as the rest of the town had. Hausman turned to the drink. And the drink turned him into a violent, angry man.
“One night, convinced the devil was behind their success, he followed the coven and found himself vindicated when he spied on one of their rituals. He stirred up the first trouble the town ever saw—driving people to pick sides, turning families against each other. His side: newly found righteous entitlement. Or theirs: the heathens, the sinners, the witches.
“The town, so infantile and fragile, began to collapse. And Hausman led the charge, delighted at the results. It took only two nights from the moment he saw the coven under the full moon to having the stakes erected to burn them.
“The mob he enraged dragged the coven out of the inn and into the streets, ignoring their pleas for mercy, as they bound them to the stakes. Hausman declared himself newly appointed by god to deliver justice, charging the coven with witchcraft, collusion with the devil, seducing men, all the fun stuff they like to say we do. He set the torches down on each pyre, happily watching them burn.
“Men are dumb. Witches are not. The coven revealed themselves before the mob, stepping out from behind the fire, clapping sarcastically. Hausman, confused, looked upon the burning stakes now that the Glamour was removed, and saw his wife and children engulfed in flames.
“They knew the act was extreme, but they also knew they could not let their claim to the land go easily. They offered Hausman, offered all who held torches and hate in their heart,a choice: leave, go back across the lake, and never return—or perish right then and there. Hausman refused, and the mob backed him, even as they watched him self-immolate in front of their eyes. The others retaliated, and the night was filled with fire and fear.
“The settlers’ bodies, all of them, were sent to the bottom of the lake. The areas where their blood touched the earth were salted and burned. They cleansed the land and then fortified it, vowing no non-witch would ever desecrate their town again, and sent out a call to all witches, urging them in dreams to come find Bairwick. And they did, making this place what it is today.”
Schuyler retracted his hands, knowing the chalkboard vision was wrapping up. Issac twisted around and sat up, kissing him, no longer interested in teasing.
Schuyler led Issac down a path that was little more than thin glints of red clay and grey rocks popping peeking through the thick green covering the path. Schuyler knew the way and navigated the trail quickly, while Issac, more studious in his exploration, fell a little behind. He caught up when they reached flatter terrain, which followed along the Bairwick River for the rest of the three-mile hike ahead of them.
“Three miles?” Issac questioned, shocked, looking down at his pristine grey high-tops, “I would have worn different shoes.”
“A witch would be able to fix that.” Schuyler didn’t slow down; he lifted his left hand and circled each finger clockwise individually from pinky to thumb. “Kaeru.” Issac watched his high-tops glow brightly then change into brown hiking boots.
“Are you going to teach me how to do that?”
“Intention: think of the item you want to replace, and what with. Incantation: Kaeru. The finger dance—well, that was forfunsies; you would use your wand.” Schuyler stopped and took a seat on half a fallen tree trunk that had once blocked the trail. “Go on, you try.”
“Right here?” he questioned. “I don’t want a repeat of the other day.” Issac shuffled in his spot. “You sure?”
Schuyler nodded, “Of course, and we won’t.” He repeated the steps again for him.
Issac pulled the wand out of his back pocket, loosened up as his arm, and repeated what had been instructed. It took Issac a moment to get it, like a car struggling to warm up in the winter, but soon he changed hiking boots into Chanel clogs, then a pair of Air Force Ones, sassy thigh-high boots, and monster-foot slippers—before he returned to the hiking boots Schuyler had chosen. He looked up when finished, his face bright with pride and excitement.
Sky bounced up from his seat and scooped up Issac, hugging him. “You did great.” He held him for a moment, then spun him around in a slow dance. They held each other tightly on the grassy bank of the river. They acknowledged the moment with a deep, passionate kiss before resuming their stride. Issac changed his footwear a couple more times, admiring each one, the wand, and his own skills.
“Thank you for the history lesson earlier. I didn’tget ityesterday. I was in a selfish cloud, thinking about myself. I understand why this town is so fiercely protected. This morning, Ifeltwhat they went through, that pull toward the unknown, the risk in searching, that joy in finding it. I… I honestly thank you for that. I’ll never tell anyone about this place.” For the first time on their walk, Issac caught up with the pace and slid his hand into Schuyler’s, keeping his momentum. “Still not sure why all of that made me so horny?”
“Well, the bloody massacre of our enemies in that chroma-rainbow color scheme always gets me hot.” Schuyler looked down at their hands wrapped around each other, swinging softly—not an action he often participated in. In Bairwick, no one cared at all. In the outside world, with his ex, when he really wanted to, he couldn’t. He relished the experience now, squeezing Issac’s hand gently.
Their conversation covered their past relationships. Issac spoke of his two previous boyfriends, and Schuyler talked about his ex—and Dev. Their talking lulled only when the sounds of the forest they travelled through grew louder. The cicadas laid the base, continuing their unending diatribe, joined by other buzzing insects, birds, and the high-pitched cries and screams of macaws filling the trees, alongside the monkeys who rustled in them. A sloth yelled at them from a banana tree across the river, refusing to move but demanding their attention.
There were howls, hoots, and whines—loud, pained, and eerie whines, which made Issac nearly stop. Schuyler remained unphased, keeping their hands together and them moving. “That’s Liberace and Bea, they’re Chupacabras, a female and a male, but…they’re both gay, so they won’t mate. That’s their sexual frustration you’re hearing.”
“What kind of forest is this?” Issac questioned Bea and Liberace’s increased howling whines.
“The area around the convent we are going to is a biological preserve. The Hermanas rescue animals and cryptids, especially those close to extinction, and bring them here to live safely. There are elephants, big cats, woolly mammoths, dodo birds, rhinos, Mothmen, skin walkers, that Golden Toad that went extinct in the 80s, and, allegedly, a bisexual werewolf, though I’ve never seen him, and I do enjoy me a hairy man.”
“Is this why you didn’t port us directly to the convent?”
“No, the sisters forbid that. They like their privacy, and ya can’t have that if witches just be showin’ up,” Schuyler explained, redirecting Issac’s attention from the trees to the two baby Sasquatches crossing the path ahead of them. He whipped out his phone trying to take a picture, but they were too fast.
Issac moved forward, more aware of the wildlife growing active around them—the vine-covered trees and thick brush they passed through—as he listened to Schuyler.
“The Hermanas of the Moon are a cloister of witch-nuns. Their primary call is to serve the Earth. And believe me, I do meanserve. You’ll see. They cherish their solitude, so they found this spot far from the town with all this untouched forest and built their convent. This trail, if your intention is to seek council, like we are, is a delightful journey.
