The Firefly Witch (Bold Women of the 17th Century Series, Book 1)(12)

He shrugged. “She may believe the story.”

“What story?”

“The villagers said that the marsh cast a spell on me when I was born. They said I was one-part human while one part creature.”

Azubah’s jaw dropped. “You never told me that.”

“Sometimes I think they’re right.”

Azubah gaped at him. Bullfrog did not seem unhappy with the idea. She looked at the bulky arms, thin legs, bulging eyes, and his wide thin-lipped mouth. He had always been just Bullfrog in her eyes; he was her friend, but for the first time, she saw what other people saw. “Would it be a terrible thing if you were a child of the marsh?” she asked.

“I would rather it be so. The marsh is far more kind to me.” Bullfrog looked over his shoulder. “We’re here,” he announced.

They steered to shore, tied the skiff and started up a path which followed a stream. The water sounded cool and fresh splashing over the rocks, and a green canopy of trees shaded them. “How do you know where to find these people?” Azubah said.

“Keep your voice down,” he stated, putting his finger to his lips. “I followed them back one time after they brought me food, but they caught me.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled. “They invited me into the settlement.”

“Did you go?”

“No, now no more talk, Azubah. Their ears are as keen as the savages.”

She nodded and continued to follow him. At last, Bullfrog climbed a tree. He reached down and brought Azubah up beside him. She was stunned. An entire village was tucked back in the woods, so secluded that no one would ever see it. Twenty roundhouses were clustered together and instead of being in straight rows like her village, they were grouped in a circle. The roofs were thatch, but there were no chimneys or even holes. Smoke escaped through the thatch instead. In the back of the houses were pens for pigs. Goats and chickens wandered around the hamlet clucking and pecking. Hides were drying on frames and several crucibles were bubbling.

A woman dressed in a long loose-fitting gown belted at the waist was the first villager Azubah saw. She was carrying a baby on her hip, and she spoke with a man who looked as if he was returning from the fields. He carried a hoe on his shoulder and was dressed in a tunic and trousers. His hair was long and loose. He had a closely cropped beard. If these are the Hooded Ones, then where are their hoods?

Another woman crossed into the hamlet carrying water, and she too was dressed in a long coarsely woven gown with a blue and green tartan scarf draped over one shoulder. Her hair was gray, and she wore a leather band around her head. As she approached, an elderly man stepped out of one of the houses to greet her. He had on a hooded robe, but was not wearing the cowl. His face was brown and wrinkled; his wild gray hair was cut short. Suddenly he straightened up as if on alert. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back. Azubah watched him closely. Was he praying or listening for something? The woman watched him with concern, and when he opened his eyes again, he said something. She scanned the trees. Azubah pulled back, wondering if they had sensed her presence.

Suddenly two dogs loped into the hamlet, followed by children. Bullfrog frowned. He did not want the canines catching their scent. He signaled to Azubah that it was time to go, but she did not move or respond. He tugged on her sleeve, but still, she did not move.

“Azubah,” he hissed.

No response.

Alarmed, Bullfrog gave her a push. She jumped as if waking from a dream. He helped her to the ground, and he looked closely at her when she landed. She appeared dazed and he frowned. Taking her hand, he led her back to the skiff.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, once they were out on the river.

She was still glassy-eyed.

“Were you scared?”

She blinked and murmured, “No. In fact, for the first time in my life, I felt very much at peace.”

*

It was twilight when they returned. Azubah thanked Bullfrog and walked up to the house. When she stepped inside, seeing Aunt Faye and Uncle Gideon lying on the bed snapped her back to reality. The supper pot was empty, so it appeared as if they had eaten.

Azubah slumped down onto a chair and thought about what she had happened. Instead of being afraid of The Hooded Ones, she was drawn to them. Everything about the village seemed familiar and was comforting. It seemed like a dream, and she wondered if perhaps she had visited them in her sleep. But she stopped. Could this be the devil bewitching me? She could not think about it now. It was dark and all sorts of things seemed ominous at night. She needed to rest and allow herself to consider things in the light of day.

Azubah noticed she had left the cottage door open. After closing it and blowing out the candle she saw a dot of light floating into the room, and then another and another. She gasped. A multitude of fireflies had drifted inside the house.

Stunned, she watched them sail through the air, blinking. It was magical. One rested on Uncle Gideon’s arm, another drifted up to her face and then sailed off toward the window. She watched the fairy-like creatures glide around the room until, at last, she realized she must set them free. She opened the door until they all drifted out of the cottage. When she shut it again, she leaned against it, pondering what had happened. They had visited her for a reason. She could feel it. They wanted to reassure that the wonders of the marsh were not the workings of the devil.