A Latent Dark Read Online Free Page B

witches.
    The young girl’s room, even in shambles just seemed too ordinary . The most remarkable thing about it was the level of poverty it presented. All the clothes were the sort of thing any child would wear, no black pointy hats or robes. Charlie had wondered if they even had the right house.
    Then the girl had screamed when he grabbed her and a shadow seemed to engulf his face. It might have been a crow, but it had talked—screamed even. That was certainly not normal… but witchcraft? Was that what witchcraft was? Did it feel so real? He shuddered and crossed himself, wondering just how close he had come to losing his soul right then.
    “So, Charlie,” Lyle finally broke the silence. He was standing at the massive hole in one side of Skyla’s wall. “Tell me about this cousin of yours.”
    “Her name is Sarah,” he said, taken aback.
    “Pretty?”
    “Sir?”
    Lyle looked directly at him and Charlie felt his skin shrivel at the gaze. “Is. She. Pretty? Charles.”
    “Y-Yes. She is, sir. We are almost the same age—she’s a few years older.” Charlie paused. “May I ask why?”
    “Her family suffering from the bad economy as well?”
    “They get by, sir,” said Charlie. “Not as bad off as these folks, but, well, we could all be doing better these days.”
    “Do you think she would be interested in helping me out?” said Lyle.
    “Sir?”
    “I’m going to need someone to show me around, run errands. That sort of thing. I need someone who knows the city and the surrounding area. I’ll pay her for her time, of course.”
    Charlie’s eyes grew excited. The Reverend Summers nearly reeked of money. “Yes sir. I believe she would love to help. And yes, she is very pretty, sir.”
    “And she is pretty.” He echoed, more a statement of fact than a question. “There’s always work for pretty girls.” A wiry grin crept along his thin lips.
    He plucked something black from the mess of glass and debris and walked over to Charlie, holding it up in front of his face. It was a large black feather like something from a hawk. Lyle twisted it in his hand and Charlie saw the pale lamp light dance blue-black off of it.
    “Do you know what that is, Charlie?”
    “It’s a feather, sir.”
    Lyle sighed, “Do you know what kind of feather that is, Charlie?”
    Charles looked fearfully between Lyle and the feather he was holding. “A... crow feather?”
    “Close,” said Lyle. “It is a raven feather. Do you know anything about ravens, Charlie?”
    “They are like crows aren’t they?”
    “Well, now, that’s like saying that whales are just big dolphins.”
    “Sir?”
    “All ravens are crows, but not all crows are ravens,” Lyle sang. He continued to twist the feather in his fingers. “While your average crow is as common as vermin, ravens are thought to be magical servants of the underworld by heathens and their ilk. They are crafty and smart and far more clever than you. That raven was a witch’s familiar.”
    “I thought witches had cats, black ones.”
    “They cavort with all messengers of the Devil, my boy.”
    “So this was the right house then?”
    “Yes, Charlie. I do believe it was.”
    “Where do you think they went?”
    “I don’t know,” said Lyle, sighing. “But they won’t be coming back here. Fetch the kerosene from the trunk, will you?” He handed the tool kit back to the soldier, who returned it to the car.
    *
    Skyla watched from the shadows as the two men talked. With his helmet off the young one looked much less frightening than he had in her room. Her skin crawled at the memory of him grabbing her with those black armored hands. They spoke for a while as she watched from the fence, unable to make out what was being said. She heard the words “witch” “raven” and some other connecting syllables, but nothing she could make any sense of.
    Finally, the man in white reached down and picked up a feather that belonged to Orrin. Skyla’s forehead went cold as he twisted