The Witches (Book #1)

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔣𝔱

Wendy takes the first step onto the slope and we follow. The silence between us is thick with secrets. I try to forget my surroundings, but as we lose the light of the parking lot to the overgrown forest, my anxiety tries to crush me.

My cape catches on a branch and I jolt to a stop. The other girls keep moving. I yank at the cape, but it's stuck. Everything looks the same in the dark—faint, crooked shadows, black on black.

"Wait!" I yell to the girls, and my voice cracks.

The wind howls in the trees, and it sounds eerily similar to the woman's wail I heard in that awful house. I pull at the branch my cape is attached to with force, and the rough bark scratches my palm.

"I am here, Sooji," says Joohyuk.

I suck in air and put my hand on my forehead to steady myself. My shaky legs become steadier as Joohyuk untangles my cape from the branch. I grab his hand tightly, probably too tightly. He doesn't say anything, but curls his cold fingers around my own. When we catch up with the girls, they start walking again.

We come to the little clearing, and Hyeri pulls out the blanket. I'm impressed that Wendy found this place a second time. I'm not sure I could do the same. The girls unpack the herbs.

"This bears all the markings of witchcraft," Joohyuk says, releasing my hand. I almost respond before I catch myself.

Seulgi lights the candles, and I scan the trees for a noose. I wish I could delete that dream from my memory. In the candlelight, Hyeri looks as nervous as I feel, Seulgi seems only slightly on edge, and Wendy doesn't seem bothered at all. I don't get that girl.

Seulgi starts the words of the . . . chant? Expectation hangs heavily like a cloud before a downpour.

"I call upon the power of fire," I say clearly when it's my turn. Joohyuk raises an eyebrow.

"That it may light my way and impassion my spirit. Only through purification may I see clearly," they all continue.

We light the bundles of herbs and drop them into the wooden bowl.

"I mean what I say, and I say what I intend. Know my desire and give me clarity," they say slowly, so that I can follow along. The strong scent of the burning herbs fills the air between us.

We join hands, and my muscles tense. For a moment, there's nothing. Then, as before, their faces flicker—slowly and faintly at first, then building to a rapid blur. There's a strange, ethereal layer to each of the girls, as though other people share the same physical space with them. The flickering faces are the same older women as before, and there's something desperately sad about them.

The older woman now occupying Hyeri's face looks around her and settles her gaze on me. She says, "These trees were locust once. This growth is new."

"The water used to come right up to this hill,'" says the old woman sharing Seulgi's body, also turning toward me. "It was called Bang's Pond. It is how Nam Baekhyun came to retrieve his dead mother."

"From the crevasse where they threw our bodies," says the older Wendy with a toughness that reminds me of her young counterpart. My eyes follow her pointing finger to barely visible rocks that steeply drop off.

My skin goes cold, and sweat forms on my palms. What is this?

"July nineteenth, sixteen ninety-two. I was in the first group to hang," continues the old Seulgi.

I'm not seeing this. Am I? These women . . . I don't know how to process this. My heart punches me inwardly. I try to stand, to end the vision or whatever it is, but my body won't move. I can't even lift a finger.