“When you were about fourteen, I started watching Brighmor, hoping to catch her unaware. This went on for weeks until late one night when I saw her leave the house and run into the forest. She disappeared before I could catch up so I went up to the carriage house to wait for her return. Hours passed by the time she reemerged from the trees, and I moved down the hill to intercept her. She had stopped at the pond to rinse her face when I took her by surprise. Being a much older man, it was not so easy this time, and she almost escaped. But in the end I prevailed, setting her spirit free just like Sarah’s.”
With frightening clarity, I could imagine my mother fighting to the last, thrashing and kicking until her body succumbed. But no imagination was necessary to recall her blank eyes staring up at me the next morning, unseeing as the pond grass twined around her arms and through her hair. Mists of red rage clouded my vision, temporarily subdued my fear. I stared with hatred at the man who could so calmly recall the details of my mother’s and grandmother’s deaths.
“By this time,” he continued, “I’d realized the curse must be passed through the mother and decided it best to end the line with you before there were any more children to worry about. But after the close call with Elizabeth, I couldn’t risk doing it myself.”
My lips compressed into a tight line. “So you manipulated Nathan Crowley.”
“It was a pity I had to involve Nathan.” Edgar released a heavy sigh. “I even tried alone the time you and Henry crossed the river. My body may be old, but I still possess the strength to pull a slingshot. When you were thrown from your horse, I thought the curse would finally to be broken.” He snorted in disgust. “And it would have been, if not for Henry.”
My persistence was paying off. Or it might have been the mixture of blood and sweat that now moistened my raw skin. Either way, the binding began to loosen around my left wrist. I just needed a few more minutes.
“And what about Mary?” I asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. “How did you get her involved in your delusions?”
“My dear Selah. Mary already knew you were different. It was she who came to me shortly after she took the position at Hopewell.”
“You told her that I was a witch and turned her against me.”
Edgar shook his head. “Quite the contrary. She was the first to suggest witchcraft. The poor girl brought a head full of heathen traditions from the old country, it was the only way she could account for what she’d seen. If I’m not mistaken,” he chuckled softly, “she even buried a witch bottle under the front walkway.”
I scowled at him. Mary would never have acted on her own without his prodding.
“I never believed in witchcraft myself,” Edgar said, “but after speaking with the girl, I found such a charge could easily serve my purposes. I gladly passed the idea onto Nathan.”
“I can only imagine your disappointment when George McKee cleared my name after the meeting.”
“I had hoped for a hanging,” he admitted. “So much cleaner. No one to blame.”
“How unfortunate,” I sneered. “When that failed, you had no choice but to send Nathan to do your dirty work.”
“My dirty work?” Edgar said, startled by the accusation. “Can’t you see that I only want to help you?”
I jerked hard at the bindings. “You’re trying to kill me!”
His eyes gleamed like a maniac’s in the candlelight. “You’re an aberration of nature! You cannot be allowed to live!” Increasingly agitated, he struck the flint again, showering the bed with sparks this time. “After Nathan questioned his vision this morning, I had to act quickly before my identity was discovered. When Mary told me about the meeting tonight in the woods, I gave her some mandrake powder to put into your wine. The stupid girl believed that it would purge the evil from your soul.” He ducked down out of sight, and I soon heard the rough scraping of the striker against the flint.
My rage froze as raw terror pounded in my chest, turning my breath to panting gasps. “What are you doing?”
“The curse must be broken,” he said, his voice muffled by the bed. “Death is the only way.”
The pungent smell of burning cloth drifted up into my nose. “No!” I cried. “You can’t do this!”
Yanking my hand, I pulled it right out of the binding. Then, reaching over to my other wrist, I started fumbling with the knots. A hissing noise came from beneath the bed.
Edgar stood back up and stared down at me, watching my frantic struggle. “There won’t be time to escape, my dear. Submit your body to the fire that the Lord may carry you home.”
The first hint of flames peeked up over the end of the bed, slowly devouring the bedclothes. I screamed, raking my nails at the binding still holding my other wrist. Somewhere in the distance I heard the thump of footsteps followed by a thunderous crash against the door.
Edgar took a step back as the flames grew higher. “Take this curse from us, Lord!” he cried, raising his arms high in the air. “Accept thy daughter!”