Circle of Five

By DeeAnn Frye

Seventeen-year-old Sarah Barton has always been taught by her elders to embrace her powers. But living as a witch in nineteenth-century New England is not easy for Sarah, who must keep her gifts a secret from commonersincluding her own fiancin order to ensure survival for herself and her family.

As her town prepares to celebrate its centennial anniversary, Sarah and other gifted ones barely escape another witch hunt that leaves them all wondering who has tipped off the town council about their secret meetings in the forest. But when Sarah decides to use her gifts to save the lives of commoners and reveals her secret to her fianc, her future becomes uncertain and a rift forms in her community.

As an ancient prophecy comes to fruition, Sarah and four other young witches are propelled down a life-altering path, facing unbelievable obstacles and battling an evil force determined to destroy their powers. In this fantasy tale, a young witch lured by dark magic and the promise of ultimate power must rely on her inner strength and trusted friends as she attempts to fulfill the prophecy of their people before it is too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781475998450

DeeAnn Frye

DeeAnn Frye enjoys reading, traveling, and photography. A full-time homemaker and mother of three, she lives in Gun Barrel City, Texas, with her husband and three children. This is her debut novel.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Gifted

I sat all alone, accompanied only by the trees of the surrounding forest and its animal inhabitants. The darkness looms in every direction, seemingly never ending. Occasionally, I can catch a brief glimpse of the full moon and star filled sky through the overlapping branches that rest high above my head. It won’t be much longer now; soon, they will all be joining me here.

My name is Sarah, and I am the youngest member of the Barton family. My mother and father both have what is commonly referred to by those of our kind as gifted blood. They passed on their gift to me and my older sister. My parents, just as their parents before them, have taught my sister and me to embrace the powers that we have been blessed with. We have been brought up to appreciate and respect the gifts that we have inherited. Of course, we are not the only gifted family by any means; it is fairly common amongst our town to find gifted ones. My dearest friends whom I have grown up with over the years have magic running strong throughout their veins as well. My family, like others in this small town where we reside, has different beliefs than most of the other gifted ones in existence.

Our families were taught to use the powers within ourselves rather than relying on the things found in Mother Nature or material objects. We believe only in using the power found within our own bodies and minds. We have been taught how to direct our focus and concentration to manipulate the energy around us and use it to our advantage when needed. The more of us there are focusing together in sync the more powerful we become as a whole, feeding off each other’s energy.

Some of what we can do has nothing at all to do with our powers; it’s just that we are so much more aware of our surroundings. Our heightened senses allow us to pay much closer attention to detail than most common people. Part of our keen ability is to sense even the slightest changes in the air around us; sometimes it’s just a temperature fluctuation, or an increase in the moisture in the air. Even something as simple as the aroma emanating from another person, plant, or animal we take immediate notice to.

There are others, however, who use their gifts to create potions and spells, though they mean no harm. They only wish to continue practicing magic by the old laws. Their belief that any magic they create will be returned to them threefold discourages them from performing anything less than the purest magic. We refer to them as the originals and respect their beliefs. We don’t judge them for the way they choose to live or practice their magic.

Besides ourselves and the originals, there are others—known as evil ones, who ban together in covens and believe that they have been given power simply because they are stronger, superior to the common people. These are the ones who hold no respect for our gifts and allow it to run like flames through their bodies, consumed with greed and always thirsting for more power. They’re filled with anger and hatred for anyone who refuses to believe their way. The evil ones who belong to these covens usually live lives of isolation, away from the common people that they look down upon. It is because of them that all of our kind is hated and forced to be secretive about our beliefs.

The original coven of our kind is the only coven that we speak of. They are the ones of our kind to first settle here from across the seas so very many years ago. Our beliefs stem from the story of the prophecy created by the original coven, which serves as a lesson to us all that nothing good can come from the creation of magical things, no matter how well intended. Which is why our kind practices and believes the way that we do.

Unfortunately, the common people fear us all because of the darkness of the covens. Witches they call us. They can’t see the difference between the good and evil ones of our kind. They only see the things that they cannot understand and for that, many gifted ones have suffered. I have bared witness to both gifted ones and innocents alike being hunted down and captured by townspeople, then hung from the huge sycamore tree that stands in the middle of our town square. Or worse yet, tied to the trunk of the old oak tree on the far side of town and consumed slowly by flames until there was nothing more than a scattered pile of ashes left behind. Anyone believed to be a witch, or caught practicing our ways is hunted, captured, and sentenced to death. We’ve all heard the stories of the Salem witch trials that took place just north of here over two hundred years ago. There are no trials here—just swift action—justice the townspeople call it, to terminate anyone who they believe to be a little extraordinary.

Of course, the gifted ones could have easily used their powers to deter the harsh death placed upon them by the townspeople, but in doing so they would reveal that they were truly gifted ones… witches. And that would only ensure the abrupt extinction of their entire family, and possibly even their closest friends. So they endured the flames, embraced the tight grip of the woven noose around their necks, and allowed their souls to be separated from their bodies and carried over into the spiritual world.

In time we realized the best way to avoid a harsh, untimely death was to just blend in. Practicing our ways and tuning our abilities has to be done quietly, behind closed doors, or in secret places where no one can ever accidentally come across us. Luckily, we live in a heavily wooded area. It’s a pretty common occurrence for people to wonder out into the woods here for hunting or to take a short cut over to the next town and end up lost. The town council has a search party assembled just for such instances. There are two rules that the townspeople are to always follow regarding the woods; rule number one, is that you never go into the woods alone. Rule number two, is never go into the woods without letting others know that you’re going and for how long you plan to be gone.

Of course, my friends and I never follow those rules. Thanks to our exceptional senses, getting lost in the woods is not something any of us has to worry about. As a matter of fact, our regular meeting place for strengthening our powers is a well hidden area found deep in the woods. Our kind has been meeting here for generations in secrecy. It’s a secluded place, located miles away from town or any homes. Just through the thickest part of the woods, that no commoner would have the patience for pushing through, is a small open field covered by a protective barrier of overlapping tree branches. Only the tiniest slivers of moonlight are able to break through when the breeze whooshes through the tree tops. This is our secret place; the one place in all of New England that we are free to be ourselves, no masquerading for the townspeople.

It is in this isolated home away from home that I now sit, cold and alone, awaiting the arrival of the other gifted ones from town. I am usually the first to arrive whenever we have scheduled meetings for practice. Mainly, it’s because I seem to feel stronger and focus more clearly when I have time to clear all the thoughts of the day from my head first. Sometimes I come here by myself just to get away from town, away from the noise, away from the people, away from the responsibilities, and just enjoy the peaceful quietness of nature. The noises here, unlike those of town, are more like a harmonious symphony; Mother Nature using all her creations as her instruments to compose the perfect melody.

I sat quietly within the boundaries of our secret spot with my legs stretched out in front of me and my back and head resting against the trunk of a large red maple tree. Closing my eyes, I can easily get lost in the sound of the chirping crickets and the hooting of the owls as they awaken with the darkness. The brisk night breeze rustled the leaves clinging to the branches surrounding me and stirred the blades of grass sprouting throughout the open field in front of me. The breeze carried with it a familiar scent, I recognized it immediately. The light fragrance was followed by the sound of footsteps crunching through the fallen leaves. Opening my eyes, my senses were confirmed as I spotted my best friend, Charlotte, entering the clearing on the south end just across from me.

Charlotte Cobb was the first friend I made as a child. She came with her grandmother every week to my parents store in town. Charlotte’s mother had died during childbirth and her father passed away just two years later from a terrible illness. Her grandmother is the only family she has left in this world. Charlotte too, is a gifted one, just as her grandmother is, and both her parents had been. Charlotte is not a very outspoken person; she tends to keep most of her thoughts and feelings to herself. Since I am closer to her than just about anyone else I can usually read her mood by the expression on her face. Hi, she grumbled as she slumped to the ground next to me.

Have another bad day at work? I asked as if I didn’t already know the answer. Charlotte is a seamstress at the only men’s clothing store in town. Not a job that she is too enthusiastic about. She loves to sew and she is very good at it, but she prefers women’s fashion to men’s, naturally. Unfortunately, our town only has the one men’s store. Women have to make their own dresses or travel to the city for clothes shopping, which can become quite costly.

As usual, she mumbled, picking at the blades of grass between us.

Any chance I can cheer you up? I hate to see my closest friend so glum.

Tell me some good news, that might just work, well… for a while at least.

Hmmm… Well, tomorrow is going to be our town’s first ever Centennial Ball.

Charlotte’s face lit up, there was a sparkle in her eyes, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement, and her lips stretched across her face in a wide smile.

Thanks, Sarah, you always do know just what to say.

And what are we so happy about this evening ladies? Lily Mason asked, as she skipped over to join Charlotte and me on our spot under the tree. Lily is always beaming with joy. She’s just a naturally happy person. Lily’s family owns the furniture store in town and her, her brother, mother, father, and grandparents all work there together. They are a close family and they all feel very strong in their beliefs. They truly feel that being gifted ones is a blessing to be both proud and thankful for.

Well, Sarah was just reminding me about tomorrow’s celebration, answered Charlotte.

I doubt anyone will miss it. It does only happen once every hundred years after all, Lily chimed in her always cheerful voice.

I’ll bet you half a dollar that I can guess the topic of their excited conversation, Charlotte challenged, nodding her head in the direction of two more gifted ones just arriving for practice. Emily Long was walking slowly next to Gwen Richmond, having an animated conversation either about some cute young man that is the focus of their envy lately, or the newest fashions coming to the city soon, as were their usual topics of discussion. They are both a little more fortunate financially than most other families in our small town. Emily’s father owns the only bank in town, so neither she, nor her mother, has ever had to take a job of their own. Gwen and her mother both work as nurses at the nearest hospital, where her father had been a doctor before his death. It had been nearly four years since the terrible incident happened.

Gwen’s father had just finished a shift at the hospital and was walking to the train station when he was mugged, then stabbed to death. The person responsible was never caught. The doctor left quite an inheritance behind for Gwen and her mother. They are truly members of the Victorian class. Gwen was taught privately at home by a governess until she was ready to join her mother at the hospital. Unlike most of the upper class Victorian’s, Gwen and her mother aren’t snobby at all; they actually don’t like being referred to as upper class. Her mother is very charitable, always offering to pay the medical bills of less fortunate people that come to the hospital in need of care. Both Gwen and her mother are very gentle and compassionate people, which is probably why they chose to work in the healthcare field, even though they obviously don’t have a need for the money.

Clothes, Lily and I answered at the same time, then looked at each other and began to giggle. We both know they have little else in common. Emily had also been taught by a governess as her parents felt that public education was lacking on worldly history, art, and music. Emily was raised more to believe that the woman’s role is in the home and it’s the man’s place to work and support the family financially. She is mostly seen traveling to the cities for shopping with her best friends Alice Warren, Elizabeth Carter, and Autumn Chamberlain. They are also gifted ones and will be joining us for practice tonight, along with the rest of their families.

The clearing was filling in with all the gifted ones from town. I noticed my parents and my sister arrive shortly after Lily’s parents, followed by Emily’s parents and then Charlotte’s grandmother. It’s almost time to be getting started. Noticing all the arrivals Charlotte, Lily, and I, all stood from our seated positions and went to join the others in the middle of the open clearing. As usual, we all began to fan out into a loose circle.

Thank you all for being here tonight. I’d like us all to work on strengthening and focusing as a group rather than individually. I’d like to have a volunteer as the center of our focus, Paul Long announced. He is Emily’s father and is looked to as a sort of leader by our people. He is also one of our elders and chose to take on the responsibility of organizing and carrying out our meetings and practices.

Emily, obliging to her father’s request for a volunteer, stepped into the middle of the circle. She flipped her loose, dark red curls over her shoulder and turned up the corners of her mouth just slightly. Her pale blue eyes shimmered as if in anticipation of what was coming. Emily has always loved being the center of attention and she is probably well aware of what she has just volunteered for, as her father surely mentioned his plans for tonight’s practice to her earlier in the day. Now, Mr. Long continued, I’d like for everyone to focus on Emily here, he said, waving a hand in her direction. If we all focus and concentrate together we should easily be able to lift Emily’s feet off the ground, at least a few inches, and hold her there for a couple of minutes. This will be our goal tonight. First, we should concentrate on getting her feet off the ground. In order for this to work each of us must feel the power emanating from one another, being sure to keep a steady balance. Try not to push yourselves too far, rather feel your boundaries and find your limitations. Let us begin, he nodded, and then took his place within the circle.

No one spoke as all the concentration was on Emily. I closed my eyes and began to also concentrate in her direction. I felt the dryness of the thin, cool night air. I focused only on the air between Emily’s feet and the grass underneath them. Pulling energy from the air around me, I sent it in the direction of that small space just beneath her feet. It already felt more open; others were pulling and directing energy in the same way that I was. The force of all our powers coming together in one concentrated spot was invigorating. I felt the space between her feet and the grass widening as it filled with the thicker, energized air that was being forced in by everyone in the circle. I struggled to keep my focus on that small pocket of air as I opened my eyes to see how much progress we had made. Emily’s feet dangled underneath her, just inches from the tops of the blades of grass below; she was completely off the ground now. The thickness in the air just above the grass began to thin. The invigoration turned to sheer exhaustion in an instant. Before I could bring myself to concentrate and gather enough energy to force in her direction, Emily dropped to the ground with a light thump. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes danced, likely from the thrill of what just happened. She stood, fluffing her light blue skirt around her.

The atmosphere of the surrounding forest suddenly changed. We all noticed it. There were others trekking deeper into the woods, still many yards from us, but getting dangerously closer. Mr. Long joined Emily in the center of our gathering, holding up one hand, signaling us all to be very still and quiet. I stood frozen in place. Usually the townspeople don’t travel this deep into the woods, not without good cause at least. Seconds ticked by as the look of worry and dread on everyone’s faces grew. We can’t leave the clearing; surely they will notice such a large group of us. But if we stay, will they dare fight their way through the thick brush? Will there be enough time for all of us to escape?

The footsteps grew closer. A faint hint of smoke stirred in the breeze. They carried torches, of course, they have to because they can’t see their way through the dark without them. This gave me an idea. I ran to Emily’s father, everyone in the circle looking at me with widened eyes. I quickly told him of my plan and he must have thought it a good idea. He signaled for everyone to gather around us, then explained to all of them what I just suggested.

If we all concentrate, Sarah thinks we can manipulate a strong enough breeze to blow out the torches being used for light by the commoners, leaving them blind in the woods, and leaving us our only chance at escaping safely back to our homes.

But how will we know if everyone makes it back safely? My father’s voice was full of worry. Of course he won’t allow for anyone to get left behind.

I think it best if a few of us men meet in town. The council must be there waiting to see if the hunters they sent out bring them back any wrongdoers. We’ll have to seem as though we were home with our families, but heard a commotion in the woods. Then we can volunteer to help, of course we will retrieve the hunters and see them back to town, no harm done. Mr. Long made it clear that no one is to be harmed. Even though it is the intentions of the hunters to bring harm to us, we would never extend the same ill will onto them.

With everyone in agreement of the plan, we all closed our eyes and concentrated with more focus than ever. The air was still now, sitting heavy between the forest trees. I focused on drawing air down from above the tree tops. Pulling it through the loose layers of leaves that lined the branches. The pull grew stronger as we all worked together to draw in air from all different directions. The air swirled, gaining strength in its movement, and we forced it in the direction of the burning torches. I felt the breeze as it hit the flames and extinguished the fire, reducing it to thick smoke that churned around the heads of those carrying the torches. Then, the sounds of confusion in the hunter’s voices as they were hit by the gust that took out their light source, floated up into the still air just above them. They are blind now. This is our chance. Everyone took off, rushing instantly out into the woods, heading toward the safety of home.

I was one of the last to leave our secret place. I hesitated, trying to see my family and friends a safe distance ahead of the hunters before I made my run for it. I felt listless from all the concentration of our practice tonight, but I knew I had to dig deep within and find the final bits of energy to carry me home. As I darted off into the thick darkness of the forest I was aware of another set of hurried footsteps. I heard the panting of heavy breath just behind me, only a few feet back. I increased my speed. I barely felt the ground under me or the fallen twigs splintering beneath my feet. I was vaguely aware of the passing branches tearing through my sleeves and leaving scratches along my arms. My full skirt caught the rush of wind as I ran, slowing me down. The outline of the edge of the forest came into view. I was just a couple yards away from where the dense trees ended and opened up to the small clearing behind my house. Not much further, almost home. Then, my pursuer thrust them self forward into the narrow gap of air between us, catching the edge of my long skirt, pulling me down onto the leaf covered ground, just feet from being free of this nightmare in the woods and safely home.

CHAPTER TWO

Burned

Perspiration saturated my hair and poured down every angle of my face. It ran down the length of my spine and pooled at the small of my back. My mind was racing but could think of no escape as l looked around, surrounded by red hot flames in every direction. The flames grew stronger, hotter, as they burned their path toward me. The closer the heat came to my skin the more I wanted to scream, but every time I opened my mouth to draw in enough breath I was left choking on the thick, dark smoke from the fire. Every fiber of my being was shouting at me to get the hell out of here, but I couldn’t move. My hands were bound together behind me, wrapped around the dead trunk of an old oak tree, so tightly that my wrists were rubbing raw with every wiggling movement that I made. Thick rope was knotted around my ankles, biding my legs and feet together. Closing my eyes tightly, I concentrated on the fire; willing myself to extinguish the flames, but it seemed no matter how much I focused, the flames kept blazing around me. I don’t understand what’s happening; my powers have never let me down before. Something is different, something is not quite right. Ignoring the heat that was closing in on me, I closed my eyes again. Oh yes, there is something very wrong. I can’t feel anything. Well, anything other than the searing heat drawing more near with each passing second. But I cannot feel the air. There is no thickness to it, no aroma other than the smoke swirling around my head, but more importantly, no energy. For the first time in my life I am without my gift; without my ability to feel or manipulate the energy surrounding me. I’m lost; lost and all alone during these last minutes of my life. There is no escaping this fire. Closing my eyes one last time, I imagined some place far away from here, somewhere cool… no… cold, where snow was falling on the ground and ice was clinging to the bare branches of the trees. I held this wintery retreat in my thoughts as the flames licked across my flesh and slowly began to consume my body. Uncontrolled convulsions began rippling through me. Through the heat and pain of the relentless fire I faintly heard someone calling out in the distance. They were calling out my name, Sarah… Sarah. The whispering voice swirled around in my head as the convulsions grew. My body suddenly seemed to weigh a ton and the sound of my name grew so loud that I would almost swear it was coming from right in front of me. Deciding to face the final flames consume what was left of me, I opened my eyes wide.

I’m not sure if what I saw was real or if I had passed out and was just dreaming. I sat straight up in my bed, my sister, Sadie, was grasping my shoulders, Sarah, wake up. You must have been having a terrible dream—you’re soaked with sweat and you were moaning like you were in pain. Are you alright? I looked around my bedroom; everything seemed to be the same as always. My dark wooden vanity sat against the far wall with its round mirror anchored to the wall just above it. The same sheer white lace curtains that had hung in my room for as long as I could recall were still falling down the length of the window across from me. The small bedside table next to me still had my small oil lamp sitting on top of it, right where I had left it. The down mattress underneath me was soft, but firm. A heavy quilt rested across my legs.

It certainly felt real, but then again, so had the heat from the flames that were surrounding me just a moment ago. So it had all been a bad dream, just a really bad dream. Oh Sadie, it was awful! Convulsions lingered in my limbs. That was the most horrifying nightmare I’ve ever had. It was just… I mean it felt so… so real. The vivid images of the terrible dream raced through my thoughts and sent a shiver down my spine. I’m so glad that my sister had come to wake me.

The room started spinning around me and I became aware of a dreadful ache at the back of my head. I reach around to touch the injured area, but Sadie grabbed my arm and stopped me before I could make contact. That’s probably not a good idea. I would imagine that your head is still very sore from the fall last night.

I fell last night? Confused, I searched through my memories of the night before, but it was a bit hazy.

Yes. Don’t you recall? Just before you neared the end of the wood line I caught up to you and stopped you. I had to grab your skirt and pull you down. You are quite the runner. Sadie sounded a tad frustrated.

So it was you who stopped me. But why would you do that? I was almost home; almost safe at home. My confusion escalated as the flood of last night’s events rushed to the surface of my mind.

Sarah, it wasn’t safe here. The town council was watching the forest’s edge, just waiting for anyone that might be trying to evade the hunting party they sent out. If I hadn’t stopped you, you would have been caught. I heard the frustration still lingering in her voice. Oh, and I am sorry about your head, it’s not as if I were aiming for that rock when I pulled you down, she apologized.

Sadie, I wasn’t quite sure what to say. My mind still felt weak and jumbled. But Sadie shouldn’t be apologizing to me. Sure I have a bump on my head, but so what? I’m here; I am alive, thanks to my sister. Thank you, Sadie. You saved my life. It sounded like a weak apology, nothing close to what she deserved.

That’s what sisters are for, she flashed her most Sadie like smile as if what she had done for me was no huge sacrifice. But I know now what my sister did for me and I will be forever grateful to her for that.

Sitting here, I couldn’t help but to keep going over all the occurrences of last night. It seemed to all happen so fast. Then I thought about the others. Had everyone made it home safe? What if they all didn’t have someone there to stop them like Sadie had stopped me?

What about the others? I blurted out, panicked.

Everyone else is fine. They sensed the danger before reaching the edge of the forest and knew to wait. After father, Mr. Long, and Mr. Mason snuck past the council they followed through with their plan. They returned to town, seeming concerned and offered to help with the search. Of course, they found the hunting party lost and confused, scattered all throughout the woods. They returned the idiots to town and that was it really, everyone returned home after that. She filled me in on all that I had missed during my unconsciousness. But one thing she said stuck out in my mind and I couldn’t help but wonder about it.

Sadie? I asked confused all over again.

Hmm, she waited, probably curious as to what was bothering me now. I could tell that she was reading the anguish on my face and that her concern for me was growing.

Well, you said the others sensed the danger before reaching the forest’s edge and well, I guess I’m just wondering why I didn’t sense it as well. I mean, I should have. I should have known that the commoners were there waiting. But I don’t remember feeling anything accept having someone—well you—chasing behind me. I hoped she would have an explanation that I could find believable.

I’m sure it was just because your fears were clouding your senses. You didn’t know then that it was me behind you. You were essentially running for your life, which would explain the lapse in your senses. She leaned toward me so that she was looking me right in the eyes, no doubt searching for any sign that I might not be satisfied with that explanation. I know that she only wants to make sure that she has calmed my fears. And she had, for now. It did make sense that I was so overcome with the fear and anxiety of being caught that my senses got tuned out temporarily, but that worries me. I am going to have to make it a point to work on more finely tuning my senses so that next time I won’t be such a liability to the others of my kind. But there is still one more question that I need an answer to, probably the most important question of all.

Do you know why the council sent the hunters out last night? It has been a few months since their last witch hunt and they were closer to our secret place than ever before—that bothers me. I was coming up with possible answers to my own question as I asked.

True, they were too close. But I doubt they knew who—or what—they were looking for. I’m sure it’s just coincidence that the council decided to send a group of hunters into the woods last night. Like you said, it’s been a while since they had a good witch hunt. They probably just wanted to make a scene; they wouldn’t want to be accused of letting their guard down, Sadie guessed as she rolled her eyes and crinkled up her face, making a disgusted expression. In any case, the elders are on alert now. They will be listening and digging for any information they can get out of the council members, so hopefully next time won’t be such a close call, she reassured me.

Close call seems like a bit of an understatement, I muttered under my breath.

Well, on another note, if you think you are up to joining the Centennial celebration you’d better be getting ready, Sadie reminded me, bringing me out of my obsessive thoughts about last night’s events and back to the present. Or, if you would rather, I could stay here and keep an eye on you, see to it that you get well.

Oh no, I’m not missing the celebration—not for anything!

Sadie huffed.

As she stood and headed toward the door to leave my room, I noticed that my sister appeared to have been up for hours already. Her sleek black hair was pulled back in her usual tight bun. Her face showed just the slightest hint of make-up.