WATTPAD FEATURED The year is 1601 and hate is burning high. Rosy Coldron is a witch. Bill Ignatius is a witch hunter. They are desperately in love. But what future can they have in a world ruled by hate, fear and prejudices? PYRE tells the story of...
"Explain yourself," Head Keeper Pansy said with an icy glare that challenged the frosts at the dead of winter. Never had a name been more at odds with the person who bore it.
"Why did you go to the town when we forbade you to? And, to make it worse, you bring us the chief witch hunter's son? When you know only too well, they will come to claim him, destroying us all."
Rosy wanted to speak, but the Head Keeper cut her off with one scything motion of her hand.
"Foolish, selfish, that's what you are. When we have been working so hard to prepare the gate that will see us to safety, when we have been up night after night to read the signs, to seek the stars and prepare for the journey, you have nothing better to do than to bring destruction upon us." The last words crested on a shriek that escaped with the spittle flying from the crone's withered mouth.
Her fury vented, the Head Keeper sank back on her chair. The others said nothing, only their eerie emerald eyes glittered wrathfully at Rosy.
It was so unfair. She was but one young woman, facing the whole Council. Alone, her magic spent. Yes, the floor was made of wood, not stone, dark beams of sacred oak lay warm and solid under her feet. But they had been felled a long time ago, they had nothing more to share, no energy left to revive her skylles.
Rosy sighed. Who was she trying to fool? Even if she were confronting the Keepers in a grove or a field, fit and rested, she could not take them on. Not even one of them. Later perhaps, when she was older, she might take up the challenge and join their circle. But not now. And given what she had done today, she doubted the Keepers would ever let her try. But who wanted to be part of their ham fisted rule anyway?
"I asked you a question," Head Keeper Pansy snapped.
"I went to send Enna home. That's all. I did not bring Bill on purpose. I had broken our tryst before, had not seen him for weeks. But he would not be shaken off."
"Were you with her, during—her last moments?" Keeper Samantha asked, her voice a soft purr devoid of emotions.
"Yes." Rosy wanted to say so much, to explain, to make them see that horrid scene, the hateful mob, smell the awful stench. But then, no doubt they knew anyway. Almost every family had lost a member to the pyres. The Witch Hunters trapped you with lead shot from their guns, with iron clamps hidden in the ground, dragged you away to underground dungeons built of stone, where no sunlight ever reached your eyes until your magical talents withered and died. What they burned afterwards was just a walking, breathing shell.
But it still had a soul, still could feel the pain of the searing flames.
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Rosy had not wanted Enna to hurt, so she had shared precious morsels of her magic. Enough for Enna to still her own beating heart.
