Penny clutched her hand tightly on the grassy plant which she had started to carry after going to the church. While studying about the witches and their spell, she had come across the voodoo doll and how hard it was to get out of it. Most of the books which the current white witches had spoken on how one couldn't get out of it if any black witch jinxed a person to do their bidding.
But there had been a solution to it. It was recorded by the early white witches which were preserved in a way where no one would ever find the information and be misused. After years, it seemed like it was Penny who had the ability to decipher the coded parchments which no one had read or had read something else which they were meant to see.
"Rosemary," her mother said looking at her hand, "Is that what is preventing the voodoo to take place?" the black witch gave her a curious look, still continuing to follow her daughter's steps where Penny continued to move away like they were playing a game of catch.
Penny didn't go to answer her mother's question, "Why are you so intent on killing me? We have spent years together, even if I wasn't the child you were looking forward to. You mold me the way you wanted by erasing and tampering with my memories so that everything went your way. Will you feel no remorse?" Penny's heart stood still when her mother replied with,
"No. Why should I?"
A smile reached Penny's lips, a smile which was a mixture of sadness and the from knowing the truth. Her mother didn't care about her. The care that she thought it was was never care but a shield which she had used as Penny to save herself from being suspected by the fellow villagers and the witch hunters.
"I made you," there was a certain pride in her mother's voice as she said it. And it wasn't because she was proud of Penny but of her own self, "I gave birth to a human, a white witch who had been disguised for years which even I didn't notice. Now that I think about it, I know why your memories came lapsing back to you. It wasn't because my magic was wrong. Only the white magic can go wrong where there are rules and not black magic. Because there are no rules when it comes to black magic."
"You were a white witch from the very beginning. Your father must have done something which even I didn't know about," she let out a throaty laugh, her eyes turning colors from brown to gold. Further changing to slits, her skin turning darker with scales like patchworks on her face and hands which Penny caught on to. The black witch had appeared in front of her and she felt numb.
"Tell me more about father. Was it true that he really left us? Or was that a lie too?" Penny questioned her mother.
One of the other things she had learned about the black witches was that they always changed their appearances to an original one during two situations. One, when they had to channel the black magic for the oncoming blow to be put against the enemy. Two, when it was the matter of fear and anger, the need for flight. Right now she wondered which of the two it was.
She had prepared the rosemary to protect herself from the voodoo at the fear of drowning in the water again. But as she realized that she had no other protection if her mother tried something on her then she was in deep trouble. Therefore she tried to buy time and increase the length hoping she would make it to the inn by scooting away slowly inch by inch. Her mother wouldn't be able to step on the lands with the spilled magic, it was hazardous to a black witch which was equal to a burning torch of flame.
"What do you think?" her mother responded back to her question. With the way she was smiling right now, Penny could only deduce that it was another possible lie, "Your father was a good man, Penny. An amazing one actually, someone who loved me and you very very much," this changed her line of perspective, "He actually did leave us. You shouldn't blame mama. Especially when I have done nothing but protect a cub like you and have nurtured you."
"Your words of nurturing and taking care falls under the manipulation of your own world which I doubt others would agree to," how long had it been since Damien had left her in the inn? She had indulged herself in the books to the point that she hadn't bothered to look at her pocket watch which she now regretted now doing. The pocket watch which she carried was lying on the desk next to the bed.
"Are you speaking back to me, Penny? I can just flick your mind and we can return back to how we were before. Just you and me. It wouldn't matter how many times your memories return back to you. We can schedule the memory to erase every month so that you will never stray from the path I have set for you."
"You don't want a daughter. You want a puppet who listens and abides by you without any question or feelings," Penny stated, her mind sobering. She built walls around her heart now so that she wouldn't be hurt for what her mother wanted and was trying to do.
The black witch smiled, her entire presence coming to be known that looked hideous in comparison to her human self. The scales on her skin appeared like a snake, some part of her skin looking dry and cracked like a dried land out of the draught.
Penny had previously come across witches on how they looked but seeing her own mother like this was a slap on the face. She had imagined it or had at least tried to but nothing ever came close to how she looked right now.