Near Robertson Castle, May, 1690

The woods were chilly at that time of the night, but Billie did not feel it, bundled up in her winter coat as she was. In fact, she was sweating under her dress, the layers too heavy and numerous for this excursion in the middle of the night, and she cursed under her breath as she readjusted the sack, she was carrying over her shoulder. Abigail was rushing ahead of her, only to stop and call to her once more.

“Hurry!” she said. “We dinnae have much time!”

It was madness. Billie didn’t even know why she had agreed to this in the first place, but she knew who was to blame here: Abigail could always sway her to do the strangest things, if only because Billie didn’t want her wandering around the woods alone in the middle of the night.

Her sister seemed to lack any sense of the self-preservation that Billie had, enough for her heart to beat fast in her chest as they walked through the darkness with nothing but a candle each to light their way.

“I cannae go any faster!” Billie complained. She carried the heavier of the two sacks and it didn’t help that she could hardly see where she was going. There were roots on the ground, rising up through the soil, and one wrong move would send her tumbling down, the items of her sack pouring out of it. “Why did we have tae come here in the middle o’ the night?”

“I told ye, it only works on a full moon,” said Abigail, as though it was obvious to anyone with common sense. “So, it has tae be now an’ it has tae be at night. There it is, look.”

Billie didn’t need to look. They had had the same conversation a few times already and Abigail kept repeating the same thing, but Billie still found it silly that she even believed in it. Besides, it didn’t seem very proper.

“We’re nae witches, Abigail!” she pointed out. “An’ we shouldnae try tae be. This is the devil’s work an’ I cannae believe yer making me dae this. There could be wolves out here. There could be brigands. We could end up dead.”

“I think ye fash too much,” said Abigail as she came to a halt in the middle of a small clearing. She looked up through the opening in the canopy of the trees, and in the candlelight, she seemed satisfied. “This is the place. It’ll dae nicely.”

Billie crossed the distance that separated them and let the sack fall to the ground. It was brighter there, the moonlight bathing everything in a silver glow, and Billie could see her sister’s face clearly now. There was no fear in it, not even a hint of hesitation. There was nothing but the pink tint of her cheeks, the excitement showing on her face.

There was no such excitement in Billie, even as the two of them brought the items out of the sacks. They laid a blanket on the ground first and then lit up a circle of candles around it, before they sat in the middle of it. Abigail had raided the healer’s supplies and the kitchens, and she had brought with her a mortar and pestle, along with a pile of herbs, which included everything from lavender and thyme to calendula. Then, she brought out a small jar filled with a dark liquid.

“What is that?” Billie asked, picking it up to examine its contents. When she opened it, she recoiled from the smell, her eyes widening, her voice turning into a shriek. “Blood?”

Abigail snatched the jar back and put the lid on once more. “Pig’s blood,” she said, placing the jar between them. “The cooks were makin’ blood puddin’.”

Billie’s face contorted with disgust. “I am nae doin’ this,” she insisted, shaking her head. “It’s indecent tae dae magic, dinnae ye ken that? How dae ye even ken what tae dae?”

“It’s nae simply magic,” Abigail said, rolling her eyes. “It’s love magic. I wish tae find a good husband, so I must dae this.”

Billie very much doubted that. Surely, there were better ways to find a husband that didn’t involve bathing in moonlight and stealing a jar of pig’s blood from the kitchens. There was no reasoning with Abigail, though, especially when she was determined to do something.

“It will help ye find a good man, too,” Abigail added with a small shrug. “Ye will be grateful later when ye see it works. I heard the maids talk about it an’ one o’ them was instructing the other on how tae dae it, so I listened.”

“How dae ye ken it’s true?” Billie insisted, too fearful of all this to simply give in without at least some more resistance. She knew that in the end, she would end up doing what Abigail wanted, that resistance was futile when it came to her sister’s ideas, but that didn’t stop her from putting up a fight, at least.

“Because the maid said so.”

“That doesnae make it true.”

Abigail’s gaze found hers and the two of them only stared at each other for a few moments, each sister trying to will the other silently to do what she wanted. In the end, Abigail sighed and gave a small shrug.

“It’s worth tryin’, isnae it?” she asked. “Like I told ye, I wish tae find a good husband. I wish tae find love, Billie, an’ so I will try this.”

Ever the romantic, her sister. Billie didn’t know where she had gotten it from, this aching desire for love. She supposed their father was a romantic, as well, and Abigail was simply a more extreme reflection of him.

Had their mother been like this, as well? Had two romantics found each other and created this child who always yearned for love?

Billie didn’t know. She didn’t remember their mother, but from what their father had told them of her, she put up with a lot of his grander gestures and declarations of love because she adored him too much to point out how extravagant it all was. Still, as she thought about it, it brought a smile to her lips. Abigail deserved to find this love she wanted. She deserved to find someone who would worship her like their father worshipped their mother, even now that she had been gone for a long time.

She supposed she, too, could put up with this foolishness for one night and do as Abigail wished, simply because she loved her little sister.

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “What dae we have tae dae, then?”

Abigail beamed at Billie when she realized that she was finally giving in and then she began to arrange everything they needed for the spell within the circle of candles. She worked on crushing the herbs before she poured a few drops of the blood in the bowl, Billie watching her silently the entire time.

“Ye have tae pick a stone,” Abigail said as she stood and began to search for her own.

“What kind o’ stone?”

“Any stone,” said Abigail. “One that calls tae ye.”

Billie stood with a sigh and began her search, too, though she didn’t know what Abigail could possibly mean. How would a stone call to her? How was she supposed to know which one was the right one?

Ach, I suppose it doesnae matter.

It didn’t take her long to find a small, white stone that seemed good enough to her. She brought it back to the circle, stepping inside it carefully so that she wouldn’t risk knocking down the candles and starting a fire in the middle of the forest, and then sat down to wait for Abigail.

It took her sister a lot longer to pick one. Billie watched her pick up a few, then toss them back down when they didn’t prove good enough for her. When she finally chose one, she joined Billie in the circle once more and brought out a small knife.

“We must carve a symbol on it,” she said, scratching some lines on the stone. Billie watched her with a frown, looking at the shallow lines she made on the stone’s surface, before it was her turn. She took the knife and tried to copy the symbol as best as she could, but she couldn’t hold back a soft laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

There she was, in the middle of the night in the woods, working on a love spell that was bound to never work. She didn’t know how to tell Abigail that the maid was probably jesting with her friend, trying to get her to believe in some false love spell.

“Pass the stone over the candles now,” said Abigail as she did the same, letting the flame touch the stone. Billie did as she was told, figuring that the sooner they were done with this nonsense, the sooner she could be back in her bed and away from any wolves that lived in the forest.

“An’ now?” asked Billie once they were seemingly done.

“Now we wait,” said her sister. “It’s supposed tae reveal yer true love tae ye, so we will soon meet our men.”

This time, Billie did manage to hold back her laughter. She didn’t want to discourage her little sister, even if she didn’t believe in these things. Real spells were harder than this, surely, and they were something that neither she nor Abigail should play with.

As they packed everything back into their sacks, Billie wished with all her heart that Abigail would meet the man of her dreams soon. She wanted nothing more than for her sister to be happy. With Evangeline and Keira both married now, Abigail craved to find love herself and Billie hated to see her so hopeful whenever she met someone new, only to be utterly dejected later.

“It will be nice tae finally find love, right?” asked Abigail as the two of them made their way back to the castle. She was flushed pink with youth and hope, smiling softly to herself.

Billie responded with a smile of her own. Even she had to admit that it would, indeed, be nice, whether she believed in the spell or not.

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