Part Three: Chapter Two

Part Three: The Slave

Chuck awoke the next morning and stretched. She rubbed her eyes. Blearily, she watched the stillness in the window outside of the room. “I can’t just wait around this inn forever,” She decided. She stood in front of the tub, searching for a showerhead. When none were to be found, Charlotte sighed, “Alright. I haven’t taken a bath since I was five.” She turned the knobs and waited for it to fill. Once she immersed herself, she searched around for shampoo. She only found a bar of soap. “Alright then.” She scrubbed it into her hair.

As she pulled a tee shirt over her head, a girl entered the room. “Oh, I’m sorry. My mother told me to-” The girl said nervously.

“It’s not a problem. Really,” Chuck assured her, combing through her hair with her fingers. “So, what’s up?”

“What’s up?” The girl asked, scrunching her dark eyebrows. “What do you mean?” She straightened out her grey dress.

Chuck sighed, “Never mind. What did your mother want you to ask me?”

“If you wanted any breakfast…” The girl said, peering at her feet. She straightened her dress nervously.

“What’s wrong with you?” Chuck snapped, packing her bag.

“It’s just that. You’re…a-a witch,” she whispered. “I’ve never met one before.” Her dark swirling eyes met Charlotte’s. “I thought they were just myths.”

“Yeah, so did I until about nine months ago.” Chuck’s eyes bored into her. Wryly, Charlotte smiled. “Your eyes. You know what you are, don’t you?”

“But my mother doesn’t. If she did, what if she…I can’t tell her.”

“She’s your mother. She loves you, no matter what.” Charlotte rested on one knee to be on the girl’s level. “With eight legs crawling, it’s this creature I’m calling.” Charlotte opened her palm to reveal a small arachnid. “You have a gift. We have a gift.”

“Get away from me! You’re a freak! I hate you! I’m nothing like you!” She spat at her, slapping her hand away. Horrified, the girl sprinted out of the room.

Chuck looked down at the little spider creeping in her hand. “Looks like it’s just you and me.” She brought it over to the windowsill. Carefully, she shook it off her hand into the dirt. “Ugh, what am I going to do?” Charlotte rubbed her forehead. Her stomach grumbled. “Might as well.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder, intent on leaving right after she had eaten. Pushing herself off the creaky wooden windowsill, she headed to the door.

Down the long hall, she entered the lobby again and explored another hall to enter a room with a short bar. She sat on one of the simple chairs and leaned against the bar.

“Ah, miss, hello, I didn’t get your name.” The woman set a glass in front of Charlotte. “Tea, dear?”

“Er, yes, thank you,” She accepted merely to be polite. “I’m Chuck.”

The woman furrowed her thick eyebrows. “Did you say Chuck? That’s hardly a proper name for a young woman. Is there something else I might call you?”

Huffily, Chuck complied, “If it would make you feel better, you can call me my full name.” She extended her hand. “Charlotte Montgomery.”

“Montgomery? Oh, my, you’re very…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m powerful, whatever. Not right now though, I basically drained all of my power a few days ago. It’s taken quite a toll on me.” She brushed back her hair again. “I didn’t catch your name, ma’am.”

“Jean, and no more of this ma’am business. How old do I look to you?” She smiled. Although, as she said it, Chuck began to assess her age by her winkles, her mole, and her thin rumpled hands.

“I’m sorry.” Chuck replied. She drummed her fingers on the wood tabletop, sticky from years of spilled drinks. A thin corkscrewing scar winding up her arm caught her eye. As she ran her fingers against it, she shuddered.

“Oh, my. Where did those come from?” The woman reached out, caressing the scars gently. She placed a mug of tea in front of her.

Chuck took a hot gulp and scowled at the dirty taste. “I don’t like to talk about it. I had a foster mother. She wasn’t fond of me.”

“But dear, you’re a witch, can’t you simply erase the scars?” Jean cocked her head, her thick hair falling to one side.

“Actually, it doesn’t quite work like that. If I use my powers to help myself, I’ll have more misfortune. It’s called mystic karma.”

“What! If you were chained about to die, you couldn’t free yourself?”

Chuck peered behind her at anyone else in the room. Her eyes scanned past the room and into the lobby.

Two men stood there. Their chins were stubbly and there was a glint in each of their eyes as they smiled at Charlotte from across the room.

She eyed the woman suspiciously. “I’m not sure. You have more guests.”

“Oh! Thanks, dear!” She hobbled out to greet the gentlemen, but their eyes didn’t leave Charlotte.

She pushed up her glasses, tearing her gaze away from them. “They’re not here to get you. Stop being so paranoid,” She muttered.

A shrill scream resonated through the tavern; Chuck sprinted to the scene. The two men had a rough grip on Jean’s daughter.

“Imagine the profit we’ll make off this one. Looks powerful.” One hissed, smirking.

“Let her go! Let go of my daughter! She’s no witch!” Jean begged. She ripped at their arms. “Let her go!”

“Let her go!” Chuck said. She watched the girl struggle and cry. Gulping, she sighed, “Take me.”

“What?” The blonde one asked. His hold loosened. His voice picked up interested. “Why would I choose to chase you over a girl I already have?”

“My name is Charlotte Montgomery. I wouldn’t put up a fight. You can have me.” She held out her wrists. “Leave the girl. I-I’ll go with you.”

They tossed the girl on the ground. Her shoulders shook with her sobs. Jean picked her up and wrapped her in her arms. She was a comforting mother, a mother that Charlotte lacked.

“Charlotte Montgomery, like Fergus Montgomery. Damn, dude, she could- we could be rich.”

“Perfect.” He gripped Chuck’s wrists.

Charlotte looked at Jean and the daughter that she saved. “Could I…before you take me, could I give a book to the girl?”

“Yeah, whatever, no running though.” He pushed her forward.

Rummaging in her bag, Chuck pulled out a book. She kneeled by the girl. “Here, my grandfather wrote this for me. I haven’t finished reading it yet, but it’ll do more good with you than it will with me. Learn. Practice. You have a gift.”

“A gift that’s getting you kidnapped! I’m not a witch! Go away! I hate you! I hate witches!” She cried.

Taken aback, Chuck stood. Hopeful, she left the book on the ground.

The men grabbed her wrists and dragged her off.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading!