"Explain yourself," Head Keeper Pansy said with an icy glare that challenged the frosts at the dead of winter. Never had a name been more at odds with the person who bore it.

"Why did you go to the town when we forbade you to? And, to make it worse, you bring us the chief witch hunter's son? When you know only too well, they will come to claim him, destroying us all."

Rosy wanted to speak, but the Head Keeper cut her off with one scything motion of her hand.

"Foolish, selfish, that's what you are. When we have been working so hard to prepare the gate that will see us to safety, when we have been up night after night to read the signs, to seek the stars and prepare for the journey, you have nothing better to do than to bring destruction upon us." The last words crested on a shriek that escaped with the spittle flying from the crone's withered mouth.

Her fury vented, the Head Keeper sank back on her chair. The others said nothing, only their eerie emerald eyes glittered wrathfully at Rosy.

It was so unfair. She was but one young woman, facing the whole Council. Alone, her magic spent. Yes, the floor was made of wood, not stone, dark beams of sacred oak lay warm and solid under her feet. But they had been felled a long time ago, they had nothing more to share, no energy left to revive her skylles.

Rosy sighed. Who was she trying to fool? Even if she were confronting the Keepers in a grove or a field, fit and rested, she could not take them on. Not even one of them. Later perhaps, when she was older, she might take up the challenge and join their circle. But not now. And given what she had done today, she doubted the Keepers would ever let her try. But who wanted to be part of their ham fisted rule anyway?

"I asked you a question," Head Keeper Pansy snapped.

"I went to send Enna home. That's all. I did not bring Bill on purpose. I had broken our tryst before, had not seen him for weeks. But he would not be shaken off."

"Were you with her, during—her last moments?" Keeper Samantha asked, her voice a soft purr devoid of emotions.

"Yes." Rosy wanted to say so much, to explain, to make them see that horrid scene, the hateful mob, smell the awful stench. But then, no doubt they knew anyway. Almost every family had lost a member to the pyres. The Witch Hunters trapped you with lead shot from their guns, with iron clamps hidden in the ground, dragged you away to underground dungeons built of stone, where no sunlight ever reached your eyes until your magical talents withered and died. What they burned afterwards was just a walking, breathing shell.

But it still had a soul, still could feel the pain of the searing flames.

Rosy had not wanted Enna to hurt, so she had shared precious morsels of her magic. Enough for Enna to still her own beating heart.

Nobody spoke for quite a while. Nobody needed to.

"Wait for us outside," Keeper Colin said. "We shall counsel among ourselves and decide."

Her head bent, she shuffled outside, then threw herself into a corner where she sat, hugging her knees. Outside, life continued. She heard laughter, voices, the lowing of cattle, the crowing of a rooster—they had to be emptying the farmsteads, Rosy realised. She got on her feet and peeped out of the one window in the corridor that faced the circle of sacred stones. It was huge, big enough to house a small village. Much bigger than Stonehenge in the south. But that was only a ring of stones. This was real, the true centre of Earth power.

Today, what she got to see resembled a country fair.

How would they do it? The one thing certain to open the gate, sacrifice, the Keepers had excluded from the outset and Rosy was glad for it. Otherwise she would never have brought Bill here. But there weren't enough white Earth Wardens around to carry out their plans. And with their feeble magic, the red ones would only be a burden. Like herself, quite a few true wardens had opted to stay behind with the redheads. That would reduce the chances of escaping through the circle even further. But Rosy had already decided. She would stay with her family. She would help them flee, protect them from the witch hunters. With so little magic to share between them, they would be lost otherwise.

A thought struck Rosy from out of the blue and her spirits lifted. Perhaps, the Keepers had found a way and the redheads could come after all? But if that was the case, what would happen to Bill?

The door opened.

"Come," the voice of Head Keeper Pansy spoke and Rosy's stomach lurched.

Inside, everything looked the same way as before but she knew her fate had been decided. She dry-swallowed once, then stepped into the Keeper's midst.

"Primrose Coldron," the Head Keeper said, eying her with displeasure. "You have behaved in the most abominable fashion, but there are some here who think you did the right thing." 

She glared at her fellow Keepers who gave her blank stares in return. "Well, we can't linger any longer. The witch hunters are gathering an army. They will attack on the morrow."

Words flew into her mouth and fluttered on her tongue. It was so hard to swallow them down. Why couldn't the Earth Wardens for once take a stand? 

"We can't fight. Fighting leads to more fighting until nothing is left but destruction." Keeper Colin's green regard was fixed on her. Had he read her thoughts? But she hadn't felt the piercing pain that accompanied the mindgaze? 

Keeper Pansy's hand scythed through the air. "Enough. We will go, and we will need every single White Warden to succeed. That means you as well, Primrose Coldron. And once we've arrived, you will continue your studies with me. Somebody needs to keep a close eye on the likes of you."

Rosy's heart missed a beat. Having the old hag for a tutor was bad. But what she had said before was even worse. Her words could only mean one thing: they still intended to leave the redheads behind. It had to be that.

"What about my family?" she protested. "What about—Bill?"

"They will stay behind with the others. They will share whatever skylles they possess to carry us through. Then, they are free to leave."

Rosy did not believe her ears. "You'll force them to hang around here? Deplete them of their magic? They'll be prey for the hunters!"

Head Keeper Pansy pointed a bony finger at her. "That's shock speaking, so for once I will tolerate your tone. But mind your tongue and don't do this again. We will leave tomorrow, after the solstice, when the sun is in its zenith. That's also when the hunters will attack. The Red Wardens won't have much time . . ."

Something glittered in Pansy's eyes. Had she been another person, it could have been tears. 

 So soon, it was too soon! "If the hunters get them, they'll take the books, our writings, everything!"

Keeper Samantha sighed and averted her eyes. "No, they won't. We'll take all the books with us, with us the lore will be safe. And the magic imbued in the items will carry us across."

No.

They could not do this. It was impossible. Without the spells, the mirrors, the instructions on how to to spell and do life magic the ones left behind stood no chance even if they escaped the hunters.

Rosy thought of her father, a stern man, but he had taught her how to ride, how to whittle wood to create flutes . . . Thought of her beautiful mother and her gift for herbal potions. And yes, Rowan and Birch were a nuisance, but they were her brother and sister. She couldn't imagine a world without them in it. A world where they were left behind to burn into cinders . . .

Rosy tried to swallow but found she could not. Anger bubbled deep inside her. "Do they know this?" she whispered.

"They know we will need to leave them behind," the Head Keeper said. "We will now tell them that nobody can stay with them. And we'll tell them we need to take all the spelled objects and grimoires."

An expression Rosy could not read flitted across Pansy's cragged features. "This situation is deplorable. I wish it wasn't so. The Red Wardens are kin. The auspices are—not good. But we have no choice."

Not good? Rosy could contain the fury any more. "You're condemning them to death! Without their magic, without the books, without some White Wardens to help them they have no chance."

That was as far as she got.

"I told you we would not tolerate your outbursts any more," Head Keeper Pansy hissed and pointed a gnarled hazel twig at her.

Rosy's mouth shut when she wanted it open. She looked around the room but found most of the Keepers avoiding her gaze.

Only Keeper Colin looked right at her and spoke. "None of this is any good. We swore an oath to protect the Earth and if we leave it now, the Others will wreak havoc upon it. But we counselled the stars and it true, if we stay, sooner or later we will all die. If we go, the witch hunters have nothing left to hunt. Once this madness has passed we can return."

Whenever that was, it would be too late for the redheads.

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Gregorian are a bit schmaltzy but some of the songs are better than the originals. Barclay James Harvest's hymn to my mind is one of those.  Image is "The survivor" by proyectooniric from DeviantArt. This chapter is dedicated to EmpressofPandas. Thanks for your great comments!