We are true to the Way and stand for the right. "As night takes the day, we offer this light. Inside the magic circle they formed another, joining hands.Īccepting now, Air lifted her face to the sky. Fire ringed around the earth, and the wind lifted the flames high. "Īnd in that last flicker of the day they cast the circle-one by two by three.
We are the Three, and we will not be vanquished in this place. "Grieve not for what can never be, but celebrate what can.
Gently, she cupped Air's face in her hands. So we leave this place, the home we made here, the lives we might have led here. Fanatics they are, and they will bring a wave of death before sanity returns. "The blood is up in these Puritans," she continued. Even now she refused to let power be stained by anger and hate. Temper lanced through her, hot and keen, and was ruthlessly rejected. "What harm have any of the others accused and waiting trial done to the people of Salem Town? Sarah Osborne died in a Boston prison. "What harm did Bridget Bishop do?" Fire countered. They will find us, and they will destroy us. " Fire closed her eyes, saw again the horrors to come. "Not everyone supports the court, or this terrible persecution. " Air linked her fingers together like a woman preparing to pray. Murdered over the lies of a few young girls and the ravings of the fanatics who smell brimstone in every breath of air. "No, and so she told the court of oyer and terminer. " Earth spoke bitterly as she rose to her feet. They will hunt us down like thieves and brigands, murder us, as they have already murdered a poor innocent. "It is because of our way there is no other. She who was Fire threw back her hood in a gesture of defiance. There was sorrow in her eyes, but behind it lived a firm purpose. "Is there no other way for us?" Air touched a hand to Earth's shoulder, and both looked at the third. With her head bent, her thick brown hair fell forward free. The part of her that wanted to weep and to rage over what had been done, over what was to come, was buried deep. "Have we all we need?" The one known here as Air pulled her hood closer so that not a single pale lock of hair could be seen in the light of the dying day. This midsummer was a time of ignorance, and of death. There would be no celebration, no rite of thanksgiving for the light, the warmth, on this Sabbat of Litha. Soon the longest day would become the shortest night of the solstice. In the dark green shadows of the deep woods, an hour before moonrise, they met in secret.
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