FFM '14.01 Witchhunt

“Don’t worry, Kitty,” I said, more to calm myself than my sister. “They can’t hurt us. You’ve seen our future. They can’t.”

Of course, seeing the future was why we were here, tied to a stake on a pile of tinder: she for her visions, and me for not just letting them take her away. The crowd seemed to ebb and flow around us, almost too eager for their grim ritual.

Witch! Witch! Witch! I couldn’t hear the chant anymore; it throbbed in my very bones. I strained my wrist against the ropes to hook my fingers into Kitty’s.

“You know the future’s not set, Sam.”

I twisted to try to look at her, to see if she saw some way out of this, but all I managed was to get a faceful of her dark hair, and a glimpse of the Reverend wading through the throng, a torch held aloft.

“Can you hear them, Sam?” Kitty breathed, “The flames are singing.”