Epilogue: The Approaching Tempest

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In the cabin in the bottom of the river, Abigail screamed in fury. 'NO! She is NOT dead! I refuse to believe Vanessa is dead. Relay everything to me sister, TELL ME THE TRUTH!'

Susannah was mortified, her hanging mouth confirmed that the witch could feel. 'It is my fault. I bargained Tiffany's soul to Faust, as you asked. But we should have known that he could not take it due to her being a Marked One.'

Abigail screamed out again. She brought her nails to her forehead and scraped the skin from her flesh. The pain relieved her, and when the torn skin dropped to the floor, she felt somewhat calmer. ''Tis fine. We have replaced her – with Christina. She is in the Bamordor Coven now. She will fill the void of Vanessa and Elle. A Marked One makes up for two dead witches.'

At that moment, a small gust of wind formed at the front door. Bridget walked out from the small tornado.

'Where is the new witch?' Abigail asked impatiently.

Bridget couldn't look at her. 'She, she left.'

'Left? Left where?'

'I am connected to her, and I can feel her inside of me. Something has happened, something big. She's been empowered. She lost her humanly flesh when I was with her, but someone helped her become stronger. Sister, I fear...'

'Yes?'

'That she is the new Queen of Hearts,' Bridget hurriedly said. Even Susannah looked away from the scene. The air grew hot as Abigail steamed with rage. The cabin shook slightly, and several panels on the walls creaked as if water was about to plough through.

'Fools,' Abigail spat, looking at both of them. 'Failures, the both of you. Must I do everything myself?'

The spell book on the table floated and opened in front of Abigail. The pages moved on their own accord. Out of the floor, a cauldron rose, bubbling and spitting, as smoke spewed out of it and leaked down the sides.

'Sisters, it's time for you both to step up, or so help me Satan...'

Abigail opened her hand and an athame appeared. She used it to slice off her smallest finger and dropped it into the cauldron. She passed the athame around and they did the same. When Bridget cut off the little finger on her right hand, she tried to hand back the athame.

'No, sister, you must fill in for Vanessa,' Abigail told her. 'The other one.'

It was evident from the rapid movements of her chest that Bridget's heart was imploding. She did what she was told, and cut off the other little finger. She tried not to wince – she couldn't bare more judgment from the eldest witch.

'The time has come for wicked's rise, morph the wind and tear the skies...' As Abigail chanted, the light from the cauldron turned red. 'Fire, wind, rain and earth, prepare this town for evil's birth.'

The ground shook. The witches had to hold onto the cauldron to keep it from falling over. The earthquake soon passed, and there was an eerie calm inside the cabin.

Abigail looked at Bridget. 'You said that you and Christina are connected. Perhaps there is use for you yet.'

'Yes, anything you need,' Bridget said, bowing slightly as if in the presence of a royal. Abigail walked around to her.

'If you're connected, I need you to tap into her emotions, her presence. Can you do that?'

'Absolutely,' Bridget said. She closed her eyes to concentrate. Abigail waited patiently, eyeing the youngest witch with eyes swarming with vindication. After a few seconds, Bridget shivered. 'I feel her.'

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