Flight from Salem Town

Arren walked briskly through the streets of Salem Town, her daughter practically running to keep from falling as she was drug along. Arren glanced fearfully in each direction before continuing past the stables, her black hood fell backwards as she did so allowing the moonlight to radiate off her platinum blonde hair. She quickly pulled up her hood and continued on.

“Mamá, mamá, where are we going?” Her young daughter asked.

“Shush Kali. Please. We do not want attention this night.” John had promised to meet them at the cemetery. Could she trust him? Could she trust anyone after what had happened? An owl hooted overhead, her daughter looked up to see if it was one she knew.

“Mamá—”

“Not now Kali. He will warn us if something is wrong, but we cannot spare a moment of time. Hurry,” she whispered frantically searching through the darkness for any sight of a person. She saw none.

They reached the cemetery after twenty minutes. Arren strode through the cemetery, glanced over at her daughter, and then traced a falling shadow up into the sky and spotted the owl once again. She shook her head. John must come, it was their last chance. At that moment a loud crack broke the silence. She swung around and reached for her pocket.

“Do not pull it out Arren! It is too risky, I may have just doomed myself by making such an entrance,” a man in a ragged suit and red sweater said, dusting himself off.

“Uncle John!” Kali shouted as she dashed from across the cemetery.

“Kali! Be silent! They will hear us,” Arren remarked in a raised whisper. The owl overhead hooted and then settled on a branch of a nearby oak tree.

“Hello Kali, it is good to see you, but listen to your mother. Now is not a time for such reunions, although we must relish the few precious moments we have left.”

Arren glanced up at the owl, it hooted back. “We don’t have much time John. Is it true? Rebecca? Martha? Even little Dorothy?”

“Yes, yes, it’s all true,” John replied as Arren muffled a gasp. “Elizabeth was just accused yesterday, I do not know what we are going to do.”

“Do what we have done. Charm them, run away.”

“We will not run. Most of the accusations are completely fictitious.”

The owl overhead hooted twice and then took flight. “They are coming. Please John, come with us.”

“You know I cannot,” John replied remorsefully.

“Then I wish you well John.”

“And I, you.” He bowed, and with that there was another loud crack and he disappeared.

“Come Kali, we must hurry.” She took her daughter by the wrist and dove behind a large headstone. She pulled a short wooden instrument from her pocket, seven small charms hung from one end. She muttered something incomprehensible and tapped the headstone as sounds of dogs barking reached them. A split second later, Arren and her daughter vanished.