The Hunted

PROLOGUE

The thunderstorm was merciless that night. The wind blew in unforgiving gusts, nipping at the old crone's cloak. The night sky lay above like a velvet blanket. There wasn't a light in the sky, save for one glowing lantern. A beacon in the blackness.

And this was where Magra was headed. She pulled cloak tight over her frail form. Finally she reached the lantern, proudly shedding it's light on the little house. She knocked sharply on the door. A plump maid answered.

" I am Magra Locksworth and I am here to see Master Prusoe," said Magra.

"Oh, Mistress Magra! Right this way," said the startled woman.

She lead her inside, then showed Magra to a middle aged man sitting by the fire. 

 " Hello, Magra," he said nervously.

" Do you have the, item, I am here for?" asked Magra.

   Master Prusoe looked up at the little old woman and nodded. Magra walked over to him, eyeing him suspiciously.

  "May I see her?"she said coldly.

"There are two," mumbled Prusoe, his hands shaking.

  "TWO!!? How will I know which one the prophecy claims to? This wasn't supposed to happen!" Magra screamed.

   "Calm down. Only one is a witch. The other is not important," Prusoe said reassuringly.

"So this is still the prophesized child?" Magra said, her tone softening.

  "Yes," said Prusoe.

"Fine then. Do you know which one is the witch?" asked Magra.

  "No," admitted Prusoe.

"Then I will have both," said Magra.

   Prusoe seemed to be sad about this, but he didn't protest. He left the room for a moment, then returned holding two twin baby girls.

  "Here they are," he said.

He gave the babies to Magra. She handed him the bag of coins and left.

  Back at the manor, she raised her wicked head up, and let out a maniacle laugh.

" I got her!" she exclaimed.