Chapter Text
Before approaching the house, Imogen tugged her sleeves down to hide the persistent dark purple scars on her hands. Then she knocked. She heard shuffling from behind the door, then a ‘thunk’ which sounded suspiciously like the rifle being set up against the wall, then the door swung open.
Relvin stared as if he had seen a ghost. “Imogen!” He tugged her by the wrist and pulled her inside, as if she were a misbehaving child once again.
Her father laid his hands on Imogen’s shoulders, holding her at an arms length apart and staring intently, as if appraising her. “I was worried—you didn’t come home… are you hurt?”
Imogen shook her head. “No, father, I’m fine—“
“That’s not what I heard.” His gaze was harsh, but Imogen could see the lines of fear in his brows. “You were sick at school? And caught up in that dreadful storm? Where did you shelter?”
Imogen had never liked lying to her father, so she chose a half-truth. “I stepped out of class to get some air. I hunkered down in the woods, in that old lean-to.”
A flicker of doubt crossed Relvin face, but he said nothing. “Glad you’re safe. Folks said the most dreadful things. Adamson said you were stuck by lightning.”
Imogen’s heart sank. “What else were they saying?”
“Well, they couldn’t find your body after the strike–couldn’t explain that–but then again, the story was unexplainable.” Relvin took a steadying breath. “There’s talk of witchcraft.”
“There’s always talk of witchcraft,” Imogen reasoned.
“Not like this,” her father said. “Some folks said they saw a shadow-figure in the woods after the storm, enough folks for it to be taken seriously. There’s a posse been going out twice a day to hunt the shadow-figure.
“Where have you been?”
Imogen pursed her lips. “I told you, I took shelter–”
“--It’s been days, why didn’t you come home?” Relvin pressed. “Did you see anything in the woods?”
Imogen shook her head. “It didn’t feel safe to come out til today. I saw some men hunting in the woods.”
“Why didn’t you speak with them?” Relvin said, growing frustrated. “It was only Thomas and Adamson. They would have escorted you home.”
Imogen just kept shaking her head. There was nothing she could say to answer all of her father’s questions besides the truth, and he would hate her for the truth.
“--hiding something… she couldn’t have summoned a storm, could she? Lilliana brought gales and rain–”
“Mom could bring storms?”
Relvin stared at her in horror. Imogen immediately realized her mistake, but found that she didn’t care much. Her mother… she was manifesting her mother’s powers? Her father knew about this type of thing the whole time?
“Imogen, I never said that–”
“--I heard you loud and clear. You said mom could bring rain and wind. What else could she do?”
“Imogen, did you call that storm?”
“That is not what I asked.” Imogen knew her tone was awful, but she needed answers, not questions and judgement.
“Imogen!” Relvin slammed his hand against the table. “I am not playing around. If you called that storm– people will find out. They’ll know you’re the–” he broke off, unable to speak it. When he spoke again, his voice was low and quiet. “People are looking for someone to blame. It won’t matter that you’ve lived here your whole life. It didn’t matter for your mother.”
“I’ll go,” Imogen suggested, suddenly seeing her path clearly for the first time. “I”ll leave town. You can tell everyone I got struck by lightning and you won’t have to deal with witch-hunters coming to call.”
“Imogen,” her dad said softly. “Are you a witch? Truly?”
Imogen shrugged. “I am whatever they think I am.” She gathered a ball of purple light to her fingertips. Her father’s eyes widened. “I’m not a devil. I was just born this way. Like mom.”
Perhaps the little ball of light had him spooked, or perhaps her father saw her purple-scarred hands for the first time and realized just how visible her affliction was now. After a moment, her father bowed his head in resignation.
“They won’t stop chasing you, you know.” Relvin said. “They want a witch and they won’t stop until they’ve found one to hang.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”
“What other choice do I have? And besides, I won’t–” Imogen shut her mouth. Her father didn’t need to know. Couldn’t know. “I’ll be careful.”
“When this blows over, will you come back home?”
“I don’t know that it will ever blow over, dad.”
Relvin nodded. “I’ll pack you some provisions.”