Influences of Stars

Chapter 9

A child screamed in the woods. They had seen a demon, they claimed, in the shape of a woman who pointed her finger and muttered words that sounded like glass shattering on a cold, iron floor. The demon had brought spirit crows which danced upon the crops, stealing away their vitality. It was to be a harsh, empty winter.

And as they spoke before the church, the four friends shared a furtive look that sealed their agreement of silence; they had been playing in that part only a few hours before this demon had appeared, when they should have been observing the sabbath. Had their negligence brought about a punishing darkness?

Charis dared to look over at her master whose head was bowed in prayer. He did not share her glance but his hands twitched as if his body could not function amongst the presence of unholiness. Afterwards he stood before Charis, looking out far above and beyond her, and murmured, "We shall find the summoner of this evil and dispose of it." There was a pensiveness about him. "Yet we are all children of God and should be treated with kindness when we have been misguided."

Did that mean he intended to spare her from further punishment? Perhaps he knew his condemnation had ripped at her conscience enough.

With a regretful smile, Charis waved at the three friends who stood together without any fear of who might see them. They tried to beckon her over, but with a frenzied look at Mr Yeardley who she prayed hadn't seen, she shook her head and turned to follow her mam back home where she would stay for the afternoon. The news of the spirits must have shaken her friends as well for they didn't call for her that afternoon. In fact, there was a quiet everywhere in Rowley Bridge after the service; few spoke with one another and most rushed home to pray, fear over a harsh winter turning their hearts to God once more.

Mr Yeardley took the entire household to the front room. His two daughters knelt on the floor by the fireplace and clasped their hands together. They moved almost as one, their eyes frozen in a contemplation that seemed forced upon them. They had done this many times before; it was a reenactment of a part that had been embedded in their minds.

As they prayed, Mr Yeardley scrutinised them. Never moving his eyes away from them, he spoke to Charis. She realised that it was only when he spoke words of kindness that he looked at her properly. "Your friend, Elizabeth Abbot," he said. Her name sounded unnatural in his grave mouth. "She is associated with Agnes Pry?"

"They are friends, sir," Charis said. There was a waver in his voice that convinced her to not mention that she had always been fond of Agnes as well.

"What is the nature of their friendship?"

"I...don't understand what you mean, sir," she said. Her words were so careful. She was conscious of every breath she took, terrified of appearing either frightened or too composed. She hoped to exist in a nothingness around him, and for all she loved to join her in that.

"Goody Pry teaches her, does she not?" His voice was accusing.

"Yes, but nothing...nothing which could have brought about the crows or the spirit!" Charis said. She rushed to save her friend. "They share an interest in animals, I believe, and all sorts of things in God's nature."

He noticed with ease how she tried to link her friend's interests with God and dismissed her defence with a disapproving hand gesture. "Are you aware of the speculation surrounding Goody Pry, of her harshly uncaring attitude towards godly traditions?" Charis nodded. "Do you think she could be passing this onto your friend?"