The Grace Year(98)

Mr. Welk puts his hand on Michael’s slumped shoulders. “As you know, today is the day I relinquish my role as head of the council to you, but given the grave nature of the offense, I will take on this burden for you.”

I’m waiting for him to say it, aching for him to deliver my sentence, because once that happens, I’ll be able to speak my truth. It’s the law that every woman must stand with open eyes, open ears, for the duration of a punishment. And even if they try to cut me off, it takes a long time for a body to burn.

Mr. Welk proudly addresses the crowd. “As my final act of service, a gift to my son, I hereby sentence Tierney James to—”

“The child is mine,” Michael says, his eyes still trained on the ground in front of him.

A collective gasp rises from the crowd. From me.

“There, now.” Mr. Welk holds his hands out in front of him. “We all know Michael hasn’t left the county in the past year. He’s in shock, that’s all, he’s confused. Just give him a moment.” He turns to his son. “I know you’re upset, but—”

Michael pulls away from him. “Tierney came to me in a dream.” He speaks directly to the crowd. “Night after night we lay together in the meadow. That’s how strong our bond is. That was Tierney’s magic.”

“That’s not possible,” someone calls out. “She’s a whore, anyone can see that.”

Mr. Welk motions for the guards to seize me, but Michael squares his body in front of me. “If you need to punish someone, punish me,” Michael says. “I’m to blame. I commanded her to come to me in her dreams, I made her lie with me, because I was selfish and couldn’t wait an entire year to be with her.”

I study his face—I can’t tell if he’s delusional enough to truly believe this or if he’s lying to protect me.

“I know of Tierney’s dreams.” Gertie steps beside me. “They’re as real as she’s standing before you.”

“It’s witchery,” a voice booms from the crowd. “Those two are in on it together. Depraved.”

I’m telling Gertie to stand down, don’t get in trouble for me, when Kiersten follows suit. One by one, the girls fall in around me. It nearly brings me to my knees. Never in my life have I seen a group of women stand together in this way. And as I look around the square, I can tell it doesn’t go unnoticed. The men are too caught up in their rhetoric, screaming red-faced into the void, but the women stand in soft silence, as if they’ve been waiting for this their whole lives. And like smoke signals on a distant mountain, I see a flash of red spread throughout the crowd.

A tiny red flower under the apron bib of the woman from the flower stand; she gave me a purple iris before I left, the symbol of hope. There’s a red flower beneath the ruffle of Aunt Linny’s dress; I remember her telling me to stay in the woods where I belong, even dropping a sprig of holly, just like the bushes leading to the ridge. There’s a red flower pinned underneath June’s collar; June sewed every single seed into my cloak … in secret. And my mother, telling me that water was best when it came from high on the spring.

They risked everything to try to help me and I didn’t even know it. All I can hear is my mother’s words. “Your eyes are wide open, but you see nothing,” I whisper.

Tears burn my eyes, but I don’t dare blink; I don’t want to miss a single moment.

“This has gone too far,” Mr. Welk says, signaling to the guards.

“Are you calling them liars?” Michael asks. “All of them?”

Mr. Welk grabs his elbow. “I understand what you’re trying to do, it’s noble, but you don’t know what you’re dealing with. This could get out of hand.”

Michael jerks his arm free. “Or maybe you’re calling me a liar?” he exclaims, loud enough so everyone in the county can hear. “Because if you don’t accept this, what you’re really saying is that the magic isn’t real.”

“Don’t be ludicrous,” Mr. Welk says with a forced chuckle. “Of course the magic is real.” He swallows hard. “I think the real issue here is safety.” He appeals to the crowd. “How do we know she won’t come for us in our dreams … murder us in our sleep?”

“Tierney’s magic is gone. I can feel it when I look at her,” Michael says as he stands before me, and yet he still can’t meet my eyes. “Come … see for yourself.”

The men press forward, scrutinizing every inch of me. I want to claw their eyes out, but I force myself to stand still.

“Enough of this nonsense.” Mr. Welk signals to one of the guards. “Get the torches.”

Michael stares his father down. “I’m warning you. If you burn Tierney, you burn me with her.”

The color leaches from Mr. Welk’s face. And in that brief moment, I see how much he loves his son, how he’d rather endure anything than give him up. Even me.

“Tell you what…” He signals to the guards to hold off. “I’ll examine her,” he says through his teeth, as if it’s causing him physical pain to be near me. As he stares me dead in the eyes, I can feel the hatred pouring out of him, but there’s something more than that. Fear. He’s losing control, and we both know it. And like he said to me when he was whipping my backside in the apothecary that night, lack of respect is a slippery slope.