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“What kind of situations?” Abigail sat up.

“You’re obviously overtired, distraught. The mind can play tricks on a person,” Mrs. Twiggs said.

“Mrs. Twiggs, I’m not crazy.”

“No, dear, I never said you were crazy. I don’t think that at all.”

“Well, that’s what you implied.”

“Dear, don’t be upset.” Mrs. Twiggs reached out her hand and patted Abigail’s arm.

Abigail stood up. “Thanks for breakfast.” Then she walked out the door. Pixel and I following behind.

“Abigail, Mrs. Twiggs is a good woman. She’s only trying to help,” I said.

“She thinks I’m crazy. Why shouldn’t she? I think I'm crazy. I’m talking to a cat.”

Pixel stared up at Abigail with his big orange saucer eyes and meowed. “No offense, Pixel,” Abigail said.

“We’re going to need some supplies. How much money do you have left?” I asked.

Abigail checked her pockets. She pulled out two one-dollar bills. Then she reached in her other pocket and pulled out the keys to her car. “I don’t have money for gas. I can’t pay the parking tickets, and I can’t sleep in it overnight.”

We left the used car lot with a $150. “We need some food for you. Pixel and I can catch what we need. There are some herbs and spices we’ll have to purchase,” I said.

Abigail looked down the street toward the Leaf & Page. “We best go somewhere else.” Pixel and I waited outside the Ingles supermarket. I recited to Abigail a list of herbs that we needed. After she picked everything up, we returned to the cabin. She placed the bags on the small wooden table by the potbelly stove. “OK, Terra, you want to explain what all this is?”

I leapt up on the table and nuzzled the small box of cloves. “The clove is a very powerful protective against evil spirits.” Then I nuzzled the cumin. “The cumin we mix with the salt.”

Pixel tried to leap on the table, failed and sat on the floor watching, licking his wounds.

“Abigail, I’ll walk you through it. Equal parts salt and cumin sprinkled on the windowsills and doorway stops evil from entering. Also place the dill above the front and back door.” I stared out the window intensely. Every once in a while I saw the same flash of red and white through the blackberries. It was a blur.

After she had followed my instructions, Abigail picked up garlic cloves and gave me a sarcastic look. “Tell me this isn’t for vampires, Terra.”

“No, don’t be silly. There’s no such thing as vampires but it does work against shape shifters, raccoons and black magic.”

“Raccoons?”

“From that sentence, you took away raccoons?”

Abigail laughed.

“Raccoons are mortal enemies of cats. I’d prefer the shape shifter and black magic over a raccoon.”

“Pixel, too.”

“Is this really going to keep away whatever was out there last night?”

“We need to gather some more herbs, twigs and berries from the forest, to make a wreath of blackberry and rowan.”

“Your namesake, right?”

“Yes, the mountain ash tree. There are several around the cabin. Agatha Hollows planted these trees to make protective wreaths for the mountain folk. Because the ash tree is my spirit tree, Abigail, it makes the talisman even more powerful.”

We spent the day outside gathering what we needed and fashioning our talismans. As I picked the blackberry and its leaves, I was careful not to give notice to our tracker that I had seen him. As of yet, I did not know his intentions but thought that if they were bad, he would have made them known by now. Instead he just watched. Pixel came up behind me growling. “I know it smells like a dog, Pixel, but I can’t be sure,” I told him.

“We go now,” Pixel said.

We returned to the cabin. Abigail had laid out cans of tuna. She was scratching her hands. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I must have touched something that irritated my skin. Maybe it was poison oak or sumac.”

I saw the nettle leaves in her basket by the dandelions. “Why did you pick these?”

“I don’t know. I felt like we should have them.”

Nettle Leaves

Nettle leaves. Mrs. Twiggs uses them for aching bones. Elizabeth also used them to capture curses and send them back to the caster. There’s more to this Abigail girl than I first thought.

After eating her supper, Abigail pulled out her guitar and strummed it softly. Pixel wrapped his way around her feet then finally settled on his back in front of the fireplace. I felt we were safe and yet occasionally turned a watchful eye to the window. I allowed myself to relax, finally drifting off while Abigail’s melody played in my head until I wasn’t sure if it was Abigail playing or not. The music grew louder. The choir finished its hymn; I sat on the hard wood pew, struggling to keep my eyes open as Reverend Samuel Parris stepped up to the pulpit. “The lord watches over us in these troubled days. He tests us with temptations of the flesh as we see in Salem town. With prosperity comes pride, one of the seven deadly sins. I look around me. I see hard-working farmers, good Christians who believe that hard work and sacrifice is the way to heaven. Make no mistake, the devil walks amongst us. Thou must shun the ways of pride.”

Prudence whispered in my ear, “He’s jealous because the townspeople have bigger houses, finer clothes and more prospects than us poor villagers.”

“Shh,” I quieted Prudence before the tithing man could tickle us with his wand of foxtails. To talk in church meant punishment by his hand. I glanced around at the congregation dressed in their plain wear and white bonnets. I adjusted mine. Elizabeth, even in the simplest of clothes, stood out from the other young women. Her beauty was undeniable and must be the reason the reverend’s apprentice Jonathan Goodall vied for her attention. Elizabeth had told me once of his intentions to marry her but that meant giving up all who she was.

When service ended, we gathered in the courtyard filled with spring lilacs, releasing sweet perfume. “What of tomorrow?” Prudence asked.

“Prudence, Elizabeth’s warned us not to speak of that day,” I said, giving a furtive glance around to ensure that no one was listening.

“I don’t understand why all the secrecy.”

“You know that the elders have forbidden the May Day celebration,” I whispered.

Finishing her conversation with the young Goodall, Elizabeth came over to us, a small smile gathering on her face. “Terra, Prudence, you were causing quite the commotion in service. Prudence, I’ve spoken to you about such behavior. We should not be drawing unseemly attention to ourselves. With last year’s poor crops, rumor has spread of witches amongst us.”

“Everything bad is blamed on us. If someone stubs his or her toe, it’s a witch. If a child has a bad dream, it’s a witch. When will these mortals take responsibility for themselves?” Prudence said.

Elizabeth grabbed Prudence by the arm firmly, pulling her behind the lilacs. I followed. In a hushed voice, Elizabeth commanded, “Do not speak of these things. Do not act out. You’re endangering all of us.”

“Yes, Elizabeth, of course.” Prudence stared down at the ground at her black shoes adorned with inappropriately oversized silver buckles. Her skirt had covered her indiscretion.

Elizabeth noticed them, too. “Prudence, I told you never to wear those.”

“No one can see. They make me feel good. Why shouldn’t I have nice things like the townsfolk?” Prudence asked.

Elizabeth’s smile disappeared.

I felt something brush against my face, followed by a scratch like sandpaper on my ear. I could feel my arms and legs turning into paws, my skin to fur, I was no longer a young girl. I woke to find Pixel curled up on me, cleaning my ear.