Part Three: Chapter One

Part Three: The Slave

“Charlotte!”

Charlotte Montgomery reached out one last time before tumbling onto the dusty ground. Groggily, she sputtered out dirt and sat up. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”

“Watch your mouth, little lady. And be careful with all that witchcraft.” A scruffy man leaned over a bench piled high with grey paper and black print.

“Where am I?” She fumbled around on the dirt for her glasses. Once she found them, she tipped them on her nose.

The man ignored the question. “Big news happening yesterday. Take a glance.” He thrust a newspaper into her hands.

“Witch hunting hours restricted. Sundown to sunrise. Good news for me, I suppose. Where am I?” She pressed.

“Geez, get your panties on. You’re in Rindrow.”

“And where is that?” Chuck searched for the date on the paper. “August eighteenth, two hundred! Two hundred?”

“Ah, you’re not from around here. You’re from the parallel world, ain’t you?” He laughed and lit a pipe. “You better be able to pay for that paper.”

Chuck dug in her pocket. “Is there anywhere to exchange currencies?”

“What? We use the same money that you idiots do.”

“Do you have change for a dollar?” Charlotte fished the bill out of her pocket.

He scoffed, “A dollar! Are you nuts? What are you doing walking around with so much money? Are you hoping to be robbed?”

“It’s one dollar. How different is the exchange rate?”

He pulled out a metal box, slamming it on the table with a clinking noise. He pulled out a penny. “We usually pay in these. A dollar is a hundred of these. You think I have ninety-seven of these to give you? You’re off your rocker.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She folded the paper back on the stand. “So, how do you feel about the restriction?”

“I think it’ll be a hell of a lot more peaceful. You witches aren’t bothering anyone. Why bother with the whole lot of you?”

Chuck asked cautiously, “You aren’t some power obsessed freak bent on whatever you want?” She noted the quickly setting sun.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Look, I got magazines, and a wife. Sure, the business has small and the wife isn’t anymore. It’s a simple life, but not a bad one, I suppose.”

Chuck sighed, “That’s all I really want. A simple life, but I suppose that won’t happen.” She wiped the dirt from her cheek. She rolled her shoulders, trying to rid herself of the ache that accompanied her fever.

"Life ain't simple for a Wicca, you know."

Chuck sighed, "Yeah, I know. It hasn't been since I found out I was a witch. Hey, do you know anywhere that I might be able to rest a while? Just a motel or something?" She peered toward the dirt road and simple homes. "An inn maybe...tavern? Is that what they're called?"

"I didn't think they came so ignorant where you're from. Yeah, we call them taverns. There's one right down the road...if you can actually read." He pointed to the left.

She smiled wryly. Sarcastically, she said, "I'll try my best." She stood straight and stepped toward the left, following the road into the sunset. When she came to a wooden sign that read, 'Lodging', Chuck opened the light oak door. When she entered, a small bell dinged. She continued to a small counter where a woman greeted her kindly.

"Hello! Welcome, welcome!" She wore an old fashioned looking long-sleeved dress of grey cotton. "How can I help you?"

Chuck rubbed her tired eyes. "Just a room for the night. Thanks. How much would that be?" She pulled a ten out of her pocket. "Would this cover a few nights?"

The woman's chocolate eyes went wide. "Uh...more than a few nights...I believe. Why are you carrying so much money, dear?" Hungrily, she eyed the money.

Delicately, Chuck held it out to her. "I hadn't realized its worth. If my clothes didn't tip you off, I'm not from around here." She watched the woman’s fingers stretch out to retrieve the bill hungrily. It was not the woman’s greed that sickened her, it human greed. The lustful demeanor that controlled everyone, including Charlotte.

"Actually, I have noticed." The woman laughed. "Do you want change for this?" Her tanned fingers clutched the bill disbelieving.

Chuck shook her head. "Nah, it doesn't matter. You need it more than I do."

The woman's jaw nearly dropped. "What brings you around here? Traveling?"

"You could call it that. Some would call it running. Of course, I hadn't planned on being alone. I was with someone."

Amused, she waggled her black eyebrows. "A special someone?" She inquired. "What was his name?" She jostled her playfully, leading her down the hallway.

Her heart ached missing Danny already. "Danny. He's a shifter. He wanted me to run away with him. Of course, I screwed it up by slipping in the portal!"

"A portal, dear?" She stared into Chuck's entrancing green eyes. "Oh my, I hadn't realized! You're a-a-a..." Her voice grew low. "A witch, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but I'm not exactly ashamed of it. I'm told that I should be around here though." Chuck followed her down the dark narrow hall and into the last room.

A large bed centered the room with a simple white quilt. The floors were a dark wood, matching the small furniture scattered sparsely around the room. There was a white bathtub in the corner with a scummy toilet next to it.

Chuck recoiled a bit, but shrugged it off. With another yawn and approaching night, she didn't really have time to be picky. "Thank you." She nodded to dismiss the woman. Once she was alone, she lay across the bed, weary from her excessive use of power over the past few days. "How could I have been so stupid? Burning up my powers like that..."

The crimson sun had nearly set into a deep violet as Charlotte peered out the window. A loud scream sounded in the distance, shrill and tormented.

Violently, she shuddered, knowing deep in the pit of her stomach that the holler belonged to a witch. "I will never let it come to that. I will never get captured." Chuck promised herself, peeling off her glasses. Gently, she folded the contorted spectacles. She placed them on the nightstand. Exhausted, she changed into a tee shirt and shorts. She flopped back onto the bed. Thinking of her naïveté when the DiRagnos played her in an attempt to drain her magic and her vulnerability when Eve tortured her, she curled her hands in to fists angrily. Most of her animosity focused on her. “How could I have been so weak? So stupid?” She queried.

No one would ever snatch any more of her pride. Not hybrids, or sadists, or witch hunters, or anyone.

She closed her eyes. "Never."

 

Author's Note

Beginning of Part Three.