A Plague of Witches - Open Novella Contest 2021

Chapter Eleven - New Stockings

(Header Photo is Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex)

Chapter Eleven

(London City)

New Stockings

Piercing pain began to prickle behind Elinor's closed eyelids, causing her to stir from her slumber. When eventually she braved opening her eyes, she found that they were damp. Raising a hand to her face, she felt the swollen skin around her eyes. Had she been crying in her sleep?

She took in her surroundings, having found that she was in a narrow, attic bedroom. Light slipped into the room through a small, oval window by the small bed where she was perched. Peering outside, she saw activity at all corners of the street outdoors and in the distance, the Thames was flowing, awash with sailing boats of merchants. It was morning.

Despite the lethargic, almost painful ache in her muscle from sheer exhaustion, Elinor pulled herself upright and sat at the edge of the bed. Across the room, a small age-speckled mirror hung from a rusting hook by a chain. She noted that although her face was red and blotchy, someone had removed her hair from their braids and brushed her hair free and curling. Flicking her toes, she looked down to see that her boots had been laid by the bed and her own stockings had been removed, washed, and now lay drying on a clothing rack nearby. Instead, she wore heavy woolen stockings that had been embroidered with daisies and bluebells. She ran a finger along the soft material and imagined that she could feel the love of the hands who had made such stockings and deemed her worthy of them.

The memories of her dream, or vision, stayed with her vividly and she could feel a heavy ache in her heart forming at the thought of the blonde woman, whose arms she had been torn from as little more than a baby.

Elizabeth Device, daughter of Elizabeth Southerns. Elizabeth Southerns, also known as Demdike.

The door of the bedroom opened slightly, and Elinor saw Kerr peek around the door, his face lighting up at the sight of her awake.

Their eyes met and the truth of what she now knew and understood seemed to dangle in the air between them. Demdike and three others of the Pendle witches of Lancaster had survived apparent imprisonment and hanging and on top of that, Elinor herself was Demdike's granddaughter.

"So," She began, swinging her feet and looking down at the ground. "Jennet Device?"

The name felt foreign on her tongue, especially when she compared it to what she felt in her heart still, Elinor Devereux.

Kerr nodded slowly, entering the room and closing the door behind him. He took a small, rickety-looking chair from the corner of the attic room and pulled it up in front of Elinor, sitting down with his legs wide and hands clasped as he leaned forward.

"That knowledge doesn't change who you are truly, or know yourself to be," Kerr acknowledged, his voice steady and heartfelt.

Elinor nodded as though this comment did not truly impact her. In truth, her heart burst with at the kindness of their words.

"What happened last night?"

Kerr held out his hands between them in answer and Elinor looked as the blue veins against his white skin seemed to glow. Slowly, she pressed her palm to his, feeling the heat there.

"I have a gift," He explained, pulling away from Elinor and clasping his hands again. "For helping people to remember things they might have repressed, or experiencing so long ago that the memories are buried. This often takes a toll on the person experiencing my power."