I Wish

We wish, we wish, to bestow our gift.

We wish, we wish, to dispel your death.

We wish, we wish, to guard your soul.

We wish, we wish, to keep you whole.

Copper of a penny.

Blood of the babe.

Ash of the grate.

Soil of the dead.

We bestow, we dispel, we guard.

You are whole as halves; you protect the soul.

You’ve paid the price.

The chanting begins in haunting unison and the air crackles with static. The combined power is strong though many of us are weak. Of the sisters around us, some could hold on for another day or two. Others now exposed, could maybe have weeks. I stare up to the moon feeling its energy fill my aching bones. My hair sticks to my forehead damp with fever and black pustules cover my skin from head to toe. I have only a matter of hours if this doesn’t work. The taste of blood lingers in my mouth, and I swallow grateful for it. He lays next to me, his breathing shallow. If I have hours, he has minutes. He struggled as best he could against my sisters as they gave him the elixir. Now he lies bound and gagged waiting for death.

I fall to my knees screaming in agony as the magic begins taking effect. I feel the ice inch into my heart bringing it to a dull pulse. Knowing my role in this ritual, I grab his hands with my remaining strength. I can feel it cracking. Like a frozen lake in the middle of winter, cracks deep below the ice. My soul severing itself into two. I feel his hand grow warm in mine. I feel the momentum take over the coven as thirteen become one. They coax the embers along, chanting around us.

Two halves.

One soul.

Two lives.

One home.

One death.

Two breaths.

We wish. We wish. We wish…

The coven continues to the rhythmic chant as they move around the circle, but I am grounded in place. My husband's hand sears my palms, holding my soul within his hands. Blinding pain stems from the touch as my skin grows colder and his warms. My heart comes to a rigid halt. The pain flows through my veins with the magic, but my blood remains still.

His touch was so warm the day he proposed. I’d been so happy to replace the gap the black death had left in his family. I’d been so happy to make my vows in the church as he’d wanted. I deserved more time. He deserved more time with me. This is the only thing I’ll ever ask of him. The only gift I’d ever ask of my sisters. They pass the goblet of blood around the circle each taking a sip. Most cringe as they swallow.

Blood of the coven.

Blood of the youth.

Blood of the raven.

Blood is your truth.

My throat catches fire. Like gulping down bowling water, the burn warms me from the inside out, my heart throbs and I shudder as I feel it begin to beat. He cries out next to me, my unsuspecting love. I know the pain he endures is the pain I survived but moments before. It is now my turn to burn from within. It is now his heart's turn to stop as I hold the life I so cherish in my hands. The coven repeats their words.

Blood of the coven.

Blood of the youth.

Blood of the raven.

Blood is your truth.

The vows we spoke to one another remain true. I recited them before my sisters, before the deities we worship. Those vows may not be enough, my love may not be enough to salve these wounds. But our magic will be. I must try. Even if he fears what he once held dear, his once feeble life grows stronger. I had to hope love could render this repairable. He shivers and attempts to release his hand from my iron grip. My flaming hands burn him as our souls are seared together.

I dare not let go. I can’t. I’ve already paid the price. My coven has paid the price though seldom few know just what that price was, what blood they bind with their words. I greedily swallow air into my lungs as a piece of me I’ll never get back exhales. The seed I’ve sowed will be harboured within him.

Bestowed the gift.

Death dispelled.

Soul tethered.

Whole for now.

Granted. Granted.

But not for free.

Granted, granted.

For each of thee.

Granted, granted.

Sun yields the fee.

Granted, granted.

One you will be.

We wish.

So, mote it be.

The coven bursts with power. The chanting comes to a close on a final precise note. They finish their will as one. The wish only some understand. The wish some would deem to be unnatural. Divinely doomed. The wish to live.

He tugs his hand again, and this time I release it. The echo of my sisters’ words lingers in the vacant fields around us. I look down at my hands, the smooth porcelain skin that was once covered in pustules is clear, with not a black mark in sight. No droplets of sweat. No discomfort or pain. I look up at the light of the moon and take a deep breath. My lungs gather the breath but there is no desperation for another. A new choice death provides.

Not death. A second life.

My husband lays still. Staring up at the moon. His skin has cleared, and his breathing is even, no longer laboured. He is well. He is living death as am I. We live. My will is done.

The circle around me watches on carefully. I am the first and this success ensures I will not be the last. This death continues to spread, and a few sacrifices can be made to protect ourselves from the plight. I measure their faces containing my glee. Gleeful at our success, our triumph. A few cautious smiles. But only a few.

Their fear is unmatched by his, I reach out to the man cowering on the ground and remove his gag. The man who not two moons ago had agreed to a lifetime with me. I reach into the pocket of my skirt and return the ring to my second finger; he needs the reminder.

He scurries backwards. He looks down at his hands clutched at his chest. His heart still beats. Mostly human. I reach out a hand to him and he cautiously places his in mine. I gently pull him to his feet. He stares at me for a moment. I feel myself forget to breathe. He reaches out and touches my face. He recoils. He shakes his head and backs away slowly.

He swallows audibly and glances around at my coven, my sisters. The women who had sat down the pews of the church. The women who danced alongside us in celebration of his god. He hesitates at the edge of the circle. The circle will not be broken. Not even by the condemnation in his eyes.

My eyes well with sincere tears. He turns to me and in two strides he clutches at my wrist. He waits patiently questioning the pulse beneath his fingers. He shakes his head again backing away, but I reach forward fast. Too fast. I notice the surprise of some of the coven. Those in the cardinal positions, North, South, East and West, don’t bother glancing side to side. The blood on their hands indicates the depth of their knowledge coming into this circle. While our intention was one, only some understood the cost. I understood the cost. The others whisper amongst themselves staring at me. Those the most ill stare with yearning. Those who are healthy will soon follow in time.

He yanks back his hand. I don’t let go, my strength is now equal. The iron ice in my veins is unbreakable. I press his hand to my chest and plead with my eyes. I’m the same soul I was moments before. Human, but more. He doesn’t see it. He steps back his eyes no longer wide in fear, grow wet.

He bursts through my sisters who scatter, some falling to the ground. He barrels downhill towards the church. Dawn is not far off, and the farmers sleep lightly, screaming through their fields was sure to cause a stir. I rush forward and find myself face-to-face with him within a second.

I search for the words. How can I explain the cost I’ve paid, the blood my coven has spilt, all to remain with him? To remain alive. I see the disgust flash across his face and any words I could have grasped float away. He grabs my hand forcefully but gently pulls the ring from my finger. I let him. He’d return it someday. He’d return it when he understood… He turns away.

He runs to the isolated church amongst the empty fields and seeks refuge. I did this for us. He enters the church instead of my arms and slams the doors closed, and I crack. The ice that now flows through my veins isn’t enough to withstand this kind of pain.

I can hear the coven stirring over the hill. Tension boils, and arguments erupt. Judgements are being cast. They judge what they don’t understand. What they’d prefer not to understand. Others are eager, desperate for their turn. But I don’t turn back. I don’t join my sisters, hand in hand, I don’t need to. I’d be no help. My connection to them has been severed in death, despite my rebirth.

I focus on him, my tether, my hope. Even if he is cross with me, he’ll forgive me. We now have time. No one survives the black death. No one except us. I saved him. I freeze in place.

Pin pricks cascade down the back of my neck and my stomach falls. I’m at the church doors faster than the howling wind. I wrench them open. The hinges scream as the bolts break free. There’s a metallic smell in the air. As I come down the aisle, I hear him cough spurting blood onto the white drapes. He comes fully into view as I reach the same altar where we had said our vows. The intricate metal crucifix is still lodged in his neck. I rush to his side screaming, horrified by the sight. I grab it and pull it free watching as his life pulses onto the floor. He looks up at me in defiance. He spits in my face.

I wretch on the floor but not from despair. From the pain. The pins are now serrated blades sawing out the essence of who I am from within my veins. I feel it all. My soul is removed from every woven thread of self. I am left vacant. I have no desire to go on anyways. A sound barely human escapes me.

As if from above I watch myself stand, I watch myself hover above the man I love as he gasps shallow breaths. I lower myself to his neck and sink my teeth into his open wound. I drink the remaining life out of him with each faint pulse. Euphoria erupts in my mouth. I drink deeply filling every hole his fading life creates.

In disjointed horror I can see myself standing with the blood dripping down my chin, murdering my husband between the pews. I am gone. I step away from the corpse something different. Something less and something more. Something I never dared to wish for. Something unnatural with grace. Something with a newfound taste.

I run up the hill to where I see my coven. I’m there in two seconds interrupting all ongoing arguments. The concern, the rage, or the fear plain on everyone’s face turns to terror as I jolt forward and grab the first sister. Nothing of myself remains within the bones of the creature walking, nothing but an insatiable need. I focus on the pulsing hearts of those I once held so dear and now find to be sustenance.

The blood of my husband drips from my chin as I rip open the Northern cardinal’s throat. I bite into the rest of the cardinals one by one. The leaders of our coven that came to me with an idea, came to me with an opportunity to live. The leaders I trusted to save me no matter the cost. The others scatter, but I don’t concern myself. I know I can hunt them down; I can smell them as they flee. I can smell their fear. Blood drips down my fingers. I’m no longer connected to that soul above. There is no tether remaining. I am beyond human and beyond death. I listen to the hearts of the cardinal leaders stop. The coven is no more.

I watch as the sun inches over the horizon, the first rays of dawn kiss my skin. The flesh bubbles beneath the light and I cry out in shock. No illness, no death. But the sun peels the flesh from my bones. Smoke chokes my screams as I frantically search the empty fields. The church is the closest refuge and I run for it as fast as my legs will allow.

I’m halfway there in a second but it isn’t fast enough. The rays engulf me in flames that consume every inch of flesh leaving nothing but dust. I fall to my knees as they begin to disintegrate. I will wisp away piece by piece.

I cease to exist. I am nothing. But oh, how I wish.