Legacy & Spellbound by Nancy Holder Page A

and other local girls had been all the proof the God-fearing people needed.
    What had started out as an ugly prank by a couple of bored, spiteful children had turned into an epidemic of fear and paranoia. But, more than that, it had turned into a game of chess that Jonathan and Abigail Cathers played.
    When he had come to Salem he had been shocked to find a descendant of the Cahors family living there with a new name and no memory of the blood feud that had driven her ancestor from her native France. Abigail Cathers was a witch, but she never knew that he, Jonathan Deveraux, was a warlock.
    So for months she had played the game, though she did not know who her opponent was. He would move a citizen of the town into a position to denounce her as a witch and she would deflect, causing another to be accused in her place. Sarah Osborne, Margaret Jacobs, and Elizabeth Proctor had all been pawns, sacrificed by Abigail to cast suspicion away from herself. The good citizens were blissfully unaware of the manipulation of their minds by the two.
    But at last he had checkmated her. Today she would stand trial before the Court of Oyer and Terminer. The six remaining judges of the court, which had been set up by the governor to try the witch cases, could do no else but find her guilty.
    He only wished he could be there to see the look on her face when they pronounced the sentence. Alas, the court was closed to the public. His scrying stone would have to do.
    As the child Elizabeth Parris slowly and solemnly denounced Abigail Cathers, the woman turned white. Three girls sat in chairs before the judges, their faces grim but their eyes dancing with a fiendish glee. How many had died because of them?
    â€œAnd she cursed my dog so she could not have pups. Every year she’s had a litter and this year none. And it’s all because of Abigail Cathers. Doggie barked at Abigail, and Abigail looked at her quite cruelly and said that she would never have little puppies to bark at people again.”
    â€œI have done nothing wrong,” Abigail said, standing. “These children have falsely accused so many, and you have willingly believed every word. Listen to what they are saying; it is ridiculous. Why would I curse a dog for doing what it was made to do? This court has sentenced dozens of innocents to their death. My friend, Goodwife Mary Shiflett, was among them …” And here she faltered. Tears formed in her eyes. “… and you drowned her! You
drowned
her!”
    â€œShe was well accused,” Samuel asserted.
    She raised her chin. “True witches would not haveallowed themselves to be killed. True witches would have silenced these girls and not their miserable dogs.”
    She sat back down, the chains that bound her clanking loudly in the silence. The testimonies continued. The evidence was all ridiculous, highly circumstantial, and the judges were believing every word.
    At last Abigail exploded. Once more, she got to her feet. Her eyes began to glow, and she shrieked, “You stupid little girls. You have no idea what a witch can do!”
    Behind her the wall exploded, flinging debris into the air. Men shouted as bits of stone cascaded down upon them. Dust powdered the room. Then she was gone as her restraints fell to the ground with a loud clatter. The girls lay crushed beneath the weight of the falling stones.
    Silence fell thick and terrifying upon the group of men gathered there. “Is it possible?” Samuel asked into the silence. “Could we have convicted so many innocents while we have let the one true witch escape?”
    Governor Phips rose to his feet. He was pale and shaking from head to toe. “Gentlemen, I don’t know the answer to Mr. Sewall’s question. All I know is, I’m disbanding the court.”
    â€œBut, sir, how can you even think of doing that after what we’ve just seen?” Jonathan Corwin demanded.
    The governor held up a hand. “And how can you,