Epilogue

The soft laughter of the couple in the clearing floated through the trees. Catriona scowled after them. For spite, she called the wind and rain. Yet still she heard the young witch and her lover laughing.

White dress billowing, she walked after them, thinking of another couple, a young woman and her Cherokee brave. They had been so happy in their little cabin with their baby before her father ripped their lives apart.

Now Catriona brought lightning with every step. This was her woods, her place, and her altar for tribute.

Thinking of taking a Connelly, of causing them pain, should make her smile. So why was she weeping?

She only knew she hurt, she yearned, and she would have her due. Which Connelly would be taken and how hard would the others grieve? This generation was fighting hard, and she would punish them well.

She let go of the storm abruptly. Then she sobbed. She sent the sound echoing through the hills. Animals stirred in unease. Humans locked their doors. The Connelly witches stopped their pointless celebrating in the house beyond the woods. They should all heed her message.

Hear me weep, and be ready to die.