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11

"To burn the witch is to admit that magic exists."

— Erin Anastasia, Mapless

☽★☾

It was early the next day when several of Sebastian's men swung the cell door open. Brynn had barely gotten a wink of sleep. Her limbs ached with the exertion of the previous day; it was almost enough to distract her from the grim fate that awaited her. Almost. It was pretty impossible to forget about the fact that she was going to be dead in less than twenty four hours.

She barely met Joan's eye as she was led out of the cell along with the her other cellmates. Their manacles were chained together as a group, making them some twisted version of a kindergarten class lineup. Brynn could clearly hear the guards' conversation as they made their way down the hall.

"Sebastian actually offered me a promotion, can you believe that?" One of the men asked incredulously.

Another of the men snorted with laughter. "Yeah, right. He offered me a promotion, too, so either you're lying, our Sebastian's being real generous now that the rebel witch is caught."

The guards chuckled in unison, one of the men tugging at the chains to prove his point. They then started up a passionate debate over one of the men's shirts — was it crooked, or was the neckline simply stretched out? As the men began to reach over to propose style ideas, Brynn tried her best to block out their words; she was going to lose a few brain cells trying to follow their conversation.

Their group finally reached Sebastian's office. Instead of going inside, one of the guards in the lead knocked on the door and settled back onto his heels to wait. A few minutes later, the door swung slowly open. Sebastian stepped out, running his fingers through his dark hair.

"Good, they're all awake," the man murmured with a nod, referring to the prisoners as if they weren't physically present. "Make sure they're freshened up; we want to look good for the executions tonight. We want to make a real show." Sebastian's laugh was enough to drive a chill down Brynn's spine. "Speaking of which, I think I'm going to scrap the usual hanging. How do you feel about a bonfire instead? Won't that be more of a performance?"

The fact that these men were planning out their deaths right in front of them made Brynn more than uncomfortable. Her eyes darted over to glance at Joan; the young woman was glaring at Sebastian with the sharpness of a dozen knives.

As the guards agreed wholeheartedly that watching the witches burn would be much more entertaining, Brynn hurried to think of an escape plan. Surely there had to be a way out. She just had to think of it. But no matter how hard she thought, Brynn couldn't come up with a single way out of this mess. They were doomed, every last one of them.

Sebastian finally finished up the conversation, the last of his laughter dying down. "That's settled, then. Get these fiendish witches into something more... fitting of their character. We want to make the crowd cheer when they burn." His dark eyes bore into each and every one of them as his gaze darted across each of their faces. "I'll see you all in a few hours." His lips spread into a lopsided grin. As he tilted his head, Brynn could associate his image with nothing other than an evil circus clown. She considered spitting in his face as she had done before, but she didn't get the chance; Brynn and the others were whisked away before she could even prepare.

Instead of returning them to their cell, the group was led to a break room of sorts. Shelves lined the walls, a coat rack stood by the door, and a round table was set up in the center of the room, a deck of cards spilling its contents across the wooden surface as if someone had needed to hurriedly put away their game. Brynn caught Silverstar's eye as their group entered the room. The blonde woman's gaze — surprisingly enough — wasn't filled with contempt, but a disappointed acceptance instead. She was just as defeated as the rest of them.

"Alright, this is how it's going to work," one of the guards grumbled as he shut the door behind them. Brynn and the others were being held firmly by the chains by a few others of Sebastian's men. "You're going to wear whatever outfits we can scrounge up, and you're not going to say a word. You hear me?" He waited until everyone had nodded before grinning and crossing his his arms. "Good."

The guards singled out each person one by one, passing them a set of clothes that they thought would fit and having them change — luckily, the guards had the decency to turn away while they stripped out of their clothes — before giving them a once over to decide whether it was enough. Sebastian had chosen what Brynn thought were the most ridiculous outfits: dark cloaks and dresses, the kind of cliche witch costume you'd expect to see in an overpriced Halloween store. All that was missing was the hat.

Brynn had to admit that the fabric of the costumes was actually fairly soft, much more so than the makeshift outfit Joan had given her back at the group's headquarters. It was almost sad that this material was going to be burned. Although, I guess if I have to die, it doesn't hurt to be dressed in such quality fabric, Brynn thought to herself, immediately regretting the thought as her mind fixed once more on the fact that she was going to be dead in only a few hours.

As she shook the thought from her mind, she realized that Joan was looking at her from a few places over in the line. Brynn sent her the fiercest glare she could muster — a look that she hoped said something along the lines of I still don't forgive you for hexing me — before looking away, trying to ignore the way her cheeks and neck flushed with heat.

The guards grinned once everyone was in costume; clearly, they thought this was extremely amusing. The group really did look like the witches everyone thought of when they heard the word, just without any broomsticks or ravens. She just wished there was power that came with the costume. The thought sparked an idea in her mind. What if I do have some power to stop this? Joan taught me how to do basic spells. Maybe I can find a way for us to escape, using magic. Brynn chewed thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek as she thought the plan over. She remember what Joan had taught her about setting an intention and going with it, so she tried to think of what she needed most in that moment. I need to get out of here. I need these chains to slip off of our hands, like butter. She let her mind fill with the image of the manacles melting off of their wrists, freeing them.

Brynn didn't know if anything had happened in the short time she had before the guards broke her concentration. Sadly, she doubted she had done anything. One of the guards took the lead, grabbing the length of chain at one end of their line and holding it like a leash as he led the way out of the room. The clinking of chains and the echoing of a dozen footsteps sounded like a death march as they exited the break room and walked down the hall. Sebastian met them at the end of it, standing in front of the two large entry doors. He was dressed in a fine tunic with a broad lace color and and full sleeves, as well as a broad black hat with a brim. Every inch of him shouted richness; Brynn hated him for showing off like this, for dressing up like some sort of game show host as he narrated their execution.

Sebastian nodded to the guards, chin lifted with an air of pride. He began a steady march out of the building, boots clipping on the cobblestones outside. People were waiting for them outside the building, watching with interest as the line made their way out and down the street. Brynn tried to bring her fear down to a manageable level as they walked through the main part of Salem Town and into the outskirts. Buildings were becoming smaller as they made their way through, grander stone buildings turning to drab residential ones. Soon they had passed those as well, trekking their way through sparse woods until they reached a small clearing. Rocks rose from the dirt like natural stages. Something that looked vaguely like a body hung from a nearby tree; a chill went down Brynn's spine as she caught it in her peripheral vision.

There were no nooses prepared for them, but a large pile of wood had been set up in the center, the kindling for a grand bonfire. Everything suddenly became much more real. 

Sebastian stood off to the side. Several dozen people were already standing around the space, chatting casually with each other as if Brynn and the others were no one but a band that was setting up to play at a bar. A couple of the guards who had brought them there led them to the great pile of wood, arranging them in a circle around the main stake in the center. Brynn's back hit the wood with an uncomfortable thunk as she was shoved back. Their chains were looped around, tied to the stake, and joined with more ropes. After a few seconds they were completely and hopelessly secured. Brynn's heart raced, eyes searching desperately for a way out of this. 

"Looks like we're done for, huh?" Joan asked. Brynn whirled around, slightly horrified to find that the dark-haired young woman had ended up being tied beside her. "Look, Vixen," she said when she caught Brynn's expression of frustration. "I know I messed up. Putting that hex on you? That wasn't... Looking back — or looking forward, technically, since it happened in the future or whatever — I have no idea why I'd do something like that. Can you please forgive me? I'll do anything to make it up to you."

The sincerity in her tone surprised Brynn. Joan really was sorry about what she had done. It's not like she'll get the chance to do anything to make up for it, though, she thought to herself. Considering we're not going to be here an hour from now. "I—"

Joan sucked in a breath before quickly letting it out. Sebastian was bragging about capturing them. The guards were getting ready to light the stake. "Vixen, you have to understand— I... Ugh, damn. I don't get soft with people, okay? I'm not... I'm not used to apologizing like this. I'm tough; I need to be. If I... If I did anything to hurt you, know that I didn't mean for that to happen. You're different. For whatever damn reason, you're different, and I don't want to be tough with you." Her eyes were on Brynn's, gaze locked on her and only her. There was fierceness in her eyes, desperation, and... sadness.

Out of the corner of her eye, Brynn saw Sebastian raise a hand. She vaguely heard him shout a command, a signal. A flash of light caught at the edge of her vision as one of the guards set the stake aflame. She could already feel heat licking at her ankles as the flames hungrily leapt for the dry wood beneath them.

"Vixen," Joan repeated, and Brynn focused solely on her again. The young woman's dark eyes glimmered. Is she crying? Brynn found that hard to believe; it must have been a trick of the light. "I'm getting you and the others out of here, okay?" Her tone was serious — filled with such desperation that her voice sounded raspier than usual — as she shut her eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Brynn watched as a muscle in her neck twitched. Joan's eyes shot open again. "Whatever happens, do not come back here. Do not come back for me."

Pressure built up suddenly in Brynn's ears. She only had a moment to catch Joan's eye before the world exploded in heat and light.




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