Free A Witch's Curse by Paul Martin Page A

dressed, Sarah.”
    “ No, no, child. Your cloak, why aren’t you wearing your cloak?”
    “ What cloak?”
    “ The one you need to wear for the ceremony. Don’t you know anything?” Sarah asked impatiently.
    “ What ceremony?”
    Sarah stared at Carolyn and rubbed her temples. “Oh, I am sorry, my dear. My mind has been getting a little forgetful these days. Are you sure I didn’t tell you about tonight?”
    “ No, you didn’t.”
    “ The coven meets once a month and tonight is the night. We are going to elect a new High Priestess and initiate you into the order.”
    “ Excuse me?”
    “ You do want to join our coven, don’t you? I assumed you would, because of your grandmother.”
    “ I don’t know, I never thought about joining. I would like to have been asked if I want to join, first.”
    “ You’re right, dear. To be honest with you, I thought I had. My mind isn’t what it used to be,” Sarah said with such a forlorn expression Carolyn instantly relented.
    “ I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to doubt you. It’s quite possible you did ask and I’m the one who forgot. I’ve had a lot on my mind too, you know. Yes, I would very much like to join Grandmother’s coven. I would be honored.”
    Sarah brightened. “See? I knew you wanted to join us. Now, hurry. The meeting starts in a couple minutes.”
    “ Can’t I go dressed like this? I’m afraid I don’t own a cloak.”
    “ You can use Ester’s. I packed the robe and a few of her other clothes in a trunk in her bedroom when she became an invalid. Hurry, child. We don’t have time to waste.” Sarah headed up the stairs with Carolyn in tow.
    Sarah opened the trunk and started removing old dresses and blankets, tossing them haphazardly on the floor. At the bottom lay a carefully folded gray cloak, one exactly the same as the one Sarah wore.
    “ Hurry up, child, put it on.”
    With no buttons or zippers on the cloak, Carolyn started to slip the robe over her head when Sarah snatched the robe from her hands.
    “ No, no. Take all your clothes off. The only clothes you can be wearing are the cloak and these sandals,” Sarah said testily, picking a pair from the trunk.
    “ You’re kidding? Who’s going to know what I’m wearing underneath?”
    “ They will know, trust me.”
    “ Well, if you insist. Sarah? When I join tonight, is there going to be some sort of initiation, like they do in sororities?”
    “ Yes, there is a ritual for new members,” Sarah said dismissively. “Don’t be afraid, other than a small cut to the palm of your hand there is nothing dangerous about the ceremony.”
    “ Oh, you mean like the Indians did in the old west? We’ll become blood sisters?”
    “ Better,” Sarah said cryptically.
    Sarah’s evasive answers made Carolyn feel a little nervous, but she had come to trust the woman completely in the short time she had known her. Quickly, she took all her clothes off and slipped the cloak on. Together they hurried to the basement and into the altar room. Sarah began lighting the candles and paused at the third sconce. Carolyn watched as Sarah twisted the holder first left and then right. To Carolyn’s amazement, a short section of wall swung open, revealing a pitch-black tunnel on the other side.
    “ Sarah? Where does this tunnel go?”
    “ Why, to the cemetery, of course, The Wexford mausoleum to be precise. Your future sisters are waiting there now. They will be here in just a moment.”
    “ Why didn’t you tell me about this before? This has to be how Hargrove got in and out of the house.”
    Scratching her head, her eyes unfocused, Sarah said, “I’m sure I mentioned the tunnel. You must have forgotten again, sweetie.”
    “ Did you forget to take your medication today, Sarah?” a voice from the tunnel asked. “You’ll need to forgive Sarah, Carolyn; she’s in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. She has her good days and her bad ones, mostly good though. She’ll be fine once she takes her