Witching Tree (Alice Gray Book 1)

22

"You can't be serious, witches? But, what are we doing in Sheffield, seems like an odd location for Pendle Witches?"

Anne huffed impatiently, "You know that the Pendle Witches were executed, right? Eight women and two men were hung after that trial."

"Oh," I struggled for the right response to that.

Should I commiserate? There was no denying that witches had it rough in the seventeenth-century. Even I'd heard of the Witchfinder General, that maniac Matthew Hopkins. But I wasn't quite ready to count myself amongst them, ancestors or not.

"I don't get it. How can we be their descendants if they all died?" I asked, starting to think that we were both actors in another weird dream and that I was going to wake up any minute in my hotel room.

"Well that's not exactly what happened, all the accused witches from Pendle that went to trial were found guilty except one...Alice Gray, your namesake," Anne continued, peeking at me through her lashes. I was obviously still missing something. I motioned for her to continue, my own impatience showing in the jerky movements of my hands. Her pink tongue darted out in response.

Mature. I was beginning to lose hope for us getting through this without a pillow fight.

"Alice had a unique gift," there was that knowing look again. I reached behind me for a pillow. Before I could strike Anne continued.

"She influenced the court clerk Thomas Potts into misrepresenting her as a Samlesbury woman, the other group that were being tried for witchcraft that session. The Samlesbury lot were acquitted, including Alice Gray. The anomaly went unnoticed because the most anyone knows about the Pendle Witches comes from Potts's account of the trial, The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches. In fact, the legend goes that Potts was so enamoured with Alice that he purposefully omitted any description of her in his book, allowing her to fade into obscurity. Or more accurately, she came to a place that had been largely unmolested by the witch hunts that had plagued Lancashire. She settled in Sheffield, built this house, and this is where our family has lived ever since."

"So what was this gift that allowed Alice to escape?"

Anne darted an annoyed look my way before closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath. "The women in our family have always had a propensity for horticulture and by our connection with nature, have been able to draw certain forces from the earth to aid us in times of danger."

Anne recited those dry words, concentration etched on her face. I wondered how many times she had heard those same words from her mother or her grandmother, drummed into her by constant repetition. But not me, I'd been isolated from this family and its traditions, and I couldn't figure out why.

"That's why this house and garden have stayed untouched despite the housing developments surrounding it. The original Alice Gray planted our tree as a sapling and infused it with her life-force. Now the old tree gives back to us by enriching the earth with power that travels to all the plants, and even to me and you. We're stronger here than anywhere else, and the longer we spend here, the greater the power we can amass."

"Wait, how can you tell? About the power I mean."

"Haven't you ever experienced a surge of strength when you've been in nature?"

"We always lived in built up neighbourhoods in inner-city areas," I explained. "I've never thought of myself as an outdoorsy person."

That was an understatement. Mum and I had always avoided camping and hiking like the plague; unpredictable weather, no bathrooms. These things filled us with horror. Outdoor sports were also out for me. Too uncoordinated, I always risked a serious injury.

"Well, we'll have to change that," Anne laughed. "You have untapped potential!"

I found that I wasn't as shocked as I should have been. Our family could harness the power that came from nature. It didn't seem too outrageous when I repeated the statement to myself. I had always liked to imagine that unusual forces were present in the world around me. That was just a natural response to the monotony of everyday life.

We all like a bit of fantasy, right?

I'd never been so arrogant as to imagine that my own family had a role in those forces. But after witnessing Anne in action, I couldn't deny her power.

That worm of worry wriggled out from under my boot, growing until it coiled around my mind squeezing like a python constricting its prey.

If that tree was a benevolent entity, then I was a pink unicorn.

It may hand out power to members of the Gray family when required but the relationship was symbiotic and I wanted to know what I was giving in return.

The soft blanket that had been wrapped around my emotions began to unravel. Whatever spell my pregnant doppelganger had put on me was wearing off. Paranoia expanded until every atom of my being shifted to regard Anne with suspicion.

Did she know? Was this a trick to get me to lower my defences so that the tree could suck all the energy out of me?

Anne looked at me, eyes shining with truth and innocence. Either she was an Oscar level actress or she had no idea of the tree's darkness. I was willing to bet it was the latter.

"Ok, I guess I've had one or two more admirers since moving. That could be down to my proximity to the tree?" I asked, testing the waters.

Anne smiled in encouragement.

"And there's that golden haze that surrounds you and intensifies when you do that mumbly thing."

Anne's eyes narrowed, brows pinching together, "Can you explain that? What does it look like?"

"Um, gold. And hazy? Can't you see it?"

"No. What else?"

"When you touched Thomas it grew brighter."

"I can't believe it. No-one's been able to see life-force in flow since the first Alice Gray. Everyone thought that gift had been lost."

Out of everything that we'd discussed, Anne found that amazing? She was focusing on the wrong thing.

"The tree, the great oak, it had the same life-force as the pregnant woman, my doppelganger. I think she did something to me."

"Alice, calm down. Visions can't hurt you. It's just residual energy from our ancestors lingering in the house. We'll consult the family histories, find out who she is, but it's too late now. We've got to get some sleep." Anne hesitated at the connecting door to our bedrooms. "You're ok with all this aren't you? I know it's a lot to take in. I can't believe your mother never told you about us."

"Me neither."

What else could I say? I'd grown up thinking all I had was my mother, and then I'd lost her. Now I had a family with roots that spread back four hundred years.

I was a witch and it didn't bother me. Somewhere deep in my gut I knew that something was off with that. But my eyes drifted shut regardless as the creak of the chair slowly rocking in the corner lulled me to sleep.