Mary Mary wrapped the shawl around her shoulders tighter. The autumn air was brisk and ran right through her. She had to hurry to help the farmer’s wife. She had suddenly fallen ill and was running a high fever. An owl screeched in the tree above her. Her heart fluttered and the memory of hearing the banshee before she left Ireland to come to the new territory flooded forward. Mary tripped and dropped her sack of remedies into a deep puddle. She fell to her knees and sighed. Going back to the house was not an option. The farmer’s wife could be dead by then. She scurried along the edge of the trail trying to find the herbs she would need to ease the wife’s ailment. There was nothing and her hope had run out. Mary leaned against a tree and stared into the clear sky, the moon’s rays cascading down through the almost leafless branches. “You’re a fool to think you could win any of these people over,” Mary said to herself. “They already think of you as a witch.” “And why not embrace that part of you?” Mary nearly fell when she turned to see an older woman standing in the woods. Where had she come from? “Don’t you know the history of this town?” “The witch trials?” The old woman nodded. “What do you think you can do to change their superstitious minds?” “I just want to help.” “Leave them. They don’t want anything but misery.” The old woman took out a pipe and puffed on it a few times. “I can teach you what you really want to know. You wouldn’t be traveling these roads … alone … late at night. You could heal someone from the warmth of your own home.” “How’s that possible?” “All things are possible,” the woman snickered. “You just have to believe it so.” “You don’t seem like the bible type.” “What type do you take me?” “I … I just meant.” “You meant that I appear to be a heathen.” “No, no…that’s not it” The old woman pointed the pipe at Mary. “You will see what it’s like to be alone and miserable. Your life will be filled with it until the day you die.” Before Mary could lend anymore apologies, the woman left. Horse hooves pounding on hardened ground moved closer to her. Two men rode fast in her direction and stopped within inches of her. “Mary?” One of the men asked. “Yes.” Mary straightened. “You’re under arrest for the practice of witchcraft.” The man jumped down from his horse. “You’ll have to come with me.”