Half of Ruby

Chapter 12

This chapter is dedicated to @homely8, who made me this wonderful new cover! Please follow this talented writer and artist. Thank you, Tay!

"Ember!" 

The front door slammed shut as Ember spun around, shaking as she attempted a brave smile at the two figures down the hall. What did Janeka and Janus mean by urgent news...?

"Hello, Ash. Flame." 

"Ember. Are you all right?" Ash almost sprinted into the room, barreling into Ember as she looked her up and down. 

"Yes..." said Ember nervously. "...what's wrong?" 

"You haven't interacted with anybody?" asked Flame from the hallway, hanging her coat up. "Right?" 

"No, I haven't," lied Ember, surprised at how smoothly the lie slid off her tongue. "I did what you asked of me." 

"Ember," said Ash, cutting across her words, "do you know Tituba? Slave of the Parris household?" 

Ember nodded. Everyone knew Reverend Samuel Parris, the Puritan minister of Salem. "Yes. His slave, correct? The witch?" 

"She was accused of witchcraft!" yelled Ash. "Put on trial by two of Parris' girls—Abigail Williams and Betty Parris. Please, please Ember—and this is for your own good—don't show your powers to anybody. Don't interact with humans and—"

"I don't!" said Ember. 

"Do you understand?" 

Ember glared at Ash, who glared back at her. Flame hovered in silence near the entrance of the dining room.

"Do you understand?" repeated Ash. 

"I...yes," whispered Ember, all her fight vanishing. Her ears burned as she turned towards the dining table. "I...have cake and tea—"

"Yes, let's eat," urged Flame. "Let's not talk about humans anymore." 

"But Tituba was put on trial," hissed Ash. "If she—the slave of the Parris household—can be accused, so can we. None of us witches are safe anymore." 

Ember turned her back to them and faced the kitchen window. The thrashing black branches of the dead winter trees outside seemed ghastly and unreal with the warm golden glow and smell of pound cake inside. Outside meant coldness. Outside meant danger. 

If she—the slave of the Parris houshold—can be accused, so can we. None of us witches are safe anymore. 

Ember shivered involuntarily as her eyes flickered over the battling branches. The witches of Salem had all been joyous, albeit surprised, when Parris, a known witch-hater, had bought Tituba for his slave, believing that he had taken the first steps towards mending the witch-human distrust. 

But perhaps Parris had never even known of Tituba's powers, and had been mortified when she'd revealed them to him. 

Why would she reveal her powers to a human, especially to him?

Ember had interacted with a human for the first time today. The thought no longer filled her with exhilaration, but with guilt and dread. What if Gus told all the other humans about her—the strange, human-friendly witch who could do nothing but blush and stammer? 

"Ember. Ember! Are you listening?" 

Ember turned around with a start. "Yes, Ash?" 

"Tituba's trial is tomorrow at noon. I will go and you will stay home with Flame. Is that understood?"