Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 150

On every repetition of the word burn they took a step
closer, tightening the circle about Rosleen as she began to crack, to struggle in her bonds.

like flaming butterflies, frantic, some even throwing
themselves into the stream to escape their fate. But
there was no escape for Hawn.

“Mother! Mother, help me!”

Sensing his death, he flung himself towards Rosleen,
throwing his arms around her as the flames burst
through his chest. He slid down her, a twisted lover’s
embrace that forced him to his knees on the ash at
Rosleens’s feet.

Onelle did not falter, but her lament took on a desperate, keening edge. The people around her were backing away, holding their ears in pain, but the sound did
not seem to reach the white-clad maids as they continued their deadly dance.
“She who loves true will not burn.”
Elvienne’s sharp eyes saw the heat rising against
Rosleen’s face, the tiny yellow flames licking at the
white of her robes. Rosleen broke, fighting against her
bonds, screaming for the first time. Elvienne closed
her eyes, not wanting to witness the magic fail.
There was another scream, closer, and a man’s howl of
pain. Onelle struck a false note, and Elvienne opened
her eyes. “Don’t stop now!” she cried. “It’s working!”
Hawn the cooper had been watching eagerly from
the viewing platform. He stumbled away from her
down the steps, clutching his wrist. His right hand
was wreathed in a ball of fire, and as he looked up at
Elvienne she sent the knowledge of what she had done
down to him, and was rewarded with the terrible understanding in his eyes. “Stop!” he yelled, stumbling
towards Rosleen and her tormentors. “Stop it, you
don’t know what you’re doing! The witch -”
He almost fell in his struggle to &VB