Carmine wished Mother joked about how much work needed doing. The day after Nicholos visited, they worked from morning to evening, trying to keep the ranch going as best it could in its waterlogged state.

"How much longer, mum?" Carmine grumbled as she looked down the stables. She rested on her heels, relying more on the lanterns overhead to see rather than the last wisps of drudged daylight. Her hands and feet ached; mud caked on her boots and her cloak could have used an hour by the hearth to dry. One of the younger riding horses nipped at Carmine's hair as she stood up. Carmine pulled back instinctively as her mother stepped over with a chuckle.

"Don't bite, Bandit," Mother said as she brushed the horse's mane. She turned down to Carmine with a warm smile. "We're nearly done for the day, dear. You worked really hard, didn't you?"

"I want that muffin." Carmine admitted, turning her head to hide her guilty smirk. Mother laughed and ruffled her hair.

"I suppose I did promise, didn't I? All right, just one more thing. I need some lamp oil before the lights in here run out. Could you go get a jar from the house?"

"Sure, Mum," Carmine nodded, patting Bandit's nose before she stepped out of the barn. She hovered one moment by the door and looked back. "But after this-"

"I know. Chocolate." Mother smiled warmly at Carmine's antics.

With a bounce in her steps, Carmine quickly pulled her hood up but even then her face and hair were already slick with rain. The everpresent gray clouds loomed overhead another day; Carmine hadn't seen a clear sunny day in weeks. When would it stop?

One day it would end, she just wished that would be soon. Once it did, she could play outside again, and visit her friends again. A question still gnawed at her mind; would they still be her friends? Their parents had all told them to stay away from her.

Carmine pushed the thought from her mind, rushing across the field, eager to be indoors. The moment she got home, Carmine made sure to take her boots off. Mum would be mad if she tracked mud all over the house...and cleaning it would be another chore before Mother kept her promise. She went down to the cellar, finding a small jar of oil as mother had asked, before heading back out again. Just one more chore. One more, and the sweet chocolaty prize would be hers, she could taste it already.

Carmine's day dreaming blew away as a sudden wind nearly knocked her off balance. She clutched her hood down trying to keep the rain from her face as her cloak whipped around her. Down the path the tool shed on the side of the barn wobbled on its hinges. The wind dug in through the cracks and tore the door open, sending rakes, shovels and more falling onto the drowned grass.

"Aw beans," Carmine groaned, putting the oil jar in her cloak pocket. She stomped around the side of the barn, feet sloshing through puddles reflecting the storm above. She started to pick up the fallen tools, tossing them back into the shed with the care that only impatient children waiting for sweets could muster.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed one of the wind-stripped bushes rustle. Carmine turned her head, flinching from a group of figures standing near her property's fence. Her own shrill cry surprised herself as much as them.

"Shit, she's seen us," One of them whispered to the others.

"So what, best we take care of this now." Another replied and reached for the fence.

"No," A third pulled them back from the fence, nearly knocking one over. "I'll do it." This one ducked under the fence, stepping onto the family property, Carmine's home.

"You're not allowed to be here," Carmine whimpered, her voice shaky, as the figure approached. She wanted to run, but fear planted her legs in the ground. Why couldn't she move? Her breaths turned to panicked heaves as the trespasser took a pitchfork from the ground in both hands. While the figure held the pitchfork, hands trembling around its grip, Carmine saw beneath the hood to the man beneath.

"Uncle Greg," Carmine squeaked, terrified, but her shock came through first. Greg looked down at her, brow furrowed. He couldn't look her in the eye. He stood before her like Father did right before a lecture, except he wouldn't say anything. "Uncle Greg, who are those people? Why are you visiting? Dad isn't here…"

One of the other figures grunted, a man. He climbed over the fence and stormed over. Another face Carmine recognized. This time it was a farmer she passed along the road when mother or father took her to the city. He used to wave at her.

"Give it here, I'll do it," The man snapped, wrenching the pitch fork away from Uncle Greg. His gaze narrowed on Carmine like she was a rat in his pantry. "Fucking mutt."

Carmine's breath stilled as he raised the pitchfork over his head. She couldn't move, couldn't even look away. Thunder drowned out her cry and deafened all in the moment. She could only see the hate, the desperation etched into the man's face. Why was he so angry with her?

With a near blinding flash, lightning arced from one of the stable windows, hitting the farmer square in the chest. He was already on the ground convulsing when another thundering crash followed. Carmine and all the other figures covered their ears.

"Get away from my daughter," Mother growled as she leapt out of the window, putting herself in front of the trespassers. Lightning crackled and arced from mother's outstretched hand. Her eyes had never been so harsh before. Carmine scrambled up, getting away from uncle Greg and the other trespassers. She ran behind her mother's leg and clung to it for dear life. Her fear sunk in and the reality of what nearly happened dawned on her. They...they wanted to kill her! She clutched her mother's hip tighter, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Get out of here, now!" Mother roared louder than the thunder. The figures picked up their convulsing member. Uncle Greg kept his face turned away from Mother the whole time. "If anyone comes near Carmine again, there’ll be hell to pay." Mother continued as they started away. "Every one of you bumpkins had better get it through your heads!"

"Mum…" Carmine croaked. She wanted nothing more than to go home but he could barely see the way through her tears. "I wanna go..."

Mother's face softened, but she didn't move until the trespassers left her land. They stood together in the cold rain, both terrified, Mother just did a better job hiding it.

Only when they were alone, soaked to the bone, did Mother stoop low, wrapping her arms around Carmine. Mother's tear mingled with her daughter's as she pressed her face close. Carmine sobbed out her terror into her mother’s arms, all the while Mother held her tight.

"Let's get inside," Mother whispered, offering her hand. Carmine couldn’t agree fast enough. Her knuckles turned white, gripping Mother’s hand as if it would disappear at any moment. She turned her head in every direction, jumping at every sound.

Once inside, Mother took Carmine's cloak off and helped her to a seat at the kitchen table. The candle flickering in her eyes couldn’t reflect what she still saw behind them; Uncle Greg, unable to meet her eye; the other farmer glaring at her, so angry and violent. Even as Mother placed the promised chocolate pastry next to here, Carmine barely noted its presence. Her stomach churned with too much fear to even consider the small delight.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

How long she sat lost in her own head, Carmine couldn’t tell. By the time some thumping from the second floor broke her trance the candle had burned nearly all the way down to its base. Mother left the kitchen to go upstairs and she hadn’t even noticed. Though Mother was only a call away, nothing stopped a sickening unease to take her place. In that lonely moment, Carmine looked out the window and hoped Father would return from the town soon. She watched the road to town, jumping at every wind brushed bush, thinking it a person until her eyes refocused. Her heart throbbed in her chest, beating quickly in her ears. What had she done? Why were they so angry?

She nearly screamed when a hand touched her shoulder.

"It's me, Carmine," Mother said, trying to calm her down.

"Mum," Carmine started to sob again. She hated being a crybaby, but it wouldn’t stop. "What’s going on?."

"I don’t know, sweetie," Mother leaned in to hug her again, gently brushing her head.

"Why are they coming here? We didn't do anything!"

"You're right, Carmine. They're angry and they don't know what to do, but that's no excuse. Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you...I have something I want you to see." Mother placed a large book on the table and knelt next to Carmine. The big book smelled musty, and the binding along its spine looked much newer than the fraying pages. Time had ground the cover's corners round, and the strange symbols spiraling across its surface had started to fade. Mother opened the book to its first few pages, flipping through before stopping exactly where she intended. More of those strange symbols lined the pages with some words Carmine recognized in the margins and between the lines, scribbled so small she could barely read.

"What's this Mum?" Carmine asked as she leaned on her head on her mother's shoulder

"It's an arcane spellbook," Mother answered. "Mine, actually. Remember Nicholos said he was searching for things? He and I used to look for books like these to learn.."

"What's it say?" Carmine squinted at the unfamiliar symbols. "It doesn't look like the letters you taught me."

"It's Yarish, a very old language, but one that can protect you." Mother pointed to one of the pictures on the page. It showed a hand in a strange position, some fingers half curled in, and next to it were some more strange letters. Underneath them, though, some scrawled in letters Carmine could read, but they didn't make any word she knew.

"What's that word, Mom?" Carmine pointed to what little she understood.

"It's not a word dear," Mother replied with a patient smile. "It's a sound...for sorcery."

"Like how you make my figures move?" Mother’s nightly ritual brought a small smile to Carmine’s face even now.

"That's right...but this isn't a trick like that." Mother frowned. Her eyes focused on Carmine, knowledge behind them gleaming. "This is something different."

"What does it do, Mum?"

"It does- actually, before we start you need to understand something. What I'm going to teach you is a spell. It's dangerous...but…" Mother went quiet as she looked outside again. "It's important you learn to protect yourself."

Carmine swallowed her fear and she nodded along.

"What-what do I do?"

"Make your hand like the one in the picture," Mother explained as she helped move Carmine's fingers into position. "Once you have it, memorize the word- or at least the sound of the word." Mother spoke a strange sound, unlike any word she'd said before, and made Carmine repeat it several times until she got it right. "Once you have the word in mind, you have to...this part is always the hardest," she muttered to herself before focusing back on Carmine. "You have to...focus your intent, want for something, that the spell can provide. This one is force. Think of it like a push." Mother guided Carmine's hand toward the chair across from them. "When you say the word, think about pushing the chair back."

"Okay," Carmine muttered. To her, magic seemed like something out of her bedtime stories, could she really do it? If nothing else, she would try for Mother. She thought of pushing the chair back and said the word her mother shared.

She gasped as a little violet mote left her finger and struck the chair's backrest. It wobbled back and forth for a moment until resting back where it started.

"Well done!" Mother said with a proud laugh as she rubbed Carmine's back. "You're a natural, I knew you would manage." She smiled, truly smiled, since the incident. It made Carmine feel warm, proud. She wanted to see it again. Mother pushed the chair back into position then knelt back next to carmine. She reached to help Carmine’s hand back to the right position, but raised her brow when it was already there. " Ever the quick learner. Alright, try one more time, think of pushing it back a little further-"

As Carmine started to focus, Mother's eyes darted to the window again, growing eerily quiet. All Carmine's calm vanished with the silence as she followed her mother's gaze.

Lantern light shadowed a man walking up the road to their house, hooded in the dead of night. Was it another stranger? Was he going to try to hurt her again? Fear and panic built up in Carmine again. The confidence that started to bud uprooted in an instant. Why couldn't they just stay away!?

As Carmine half-cried, half-screamed out the incantation. A larger bolt burst from Carmine's finger, smashing into the chair much faster than the first. It splintered the backrest and threw the chair into the coat rack, sending both clattering to the floor.

"Leave us alone! Leave us alone..." Carmine whimpered as her arm fell to her side. The spells had worn her out far more than the full day’s work.. Mother pulled her into her chest, repeating comforts and promises until the figure revealed its face.

"It's alright sweetie," she soothed, "It's just Dad. Don't be afraid, I'm here."

Carmine’s tears were only just beginning to dry as Father knocked at the door. Mother slowly stood up and walked over to let him in, picking up the coat rack as she passed it. She barely opened the door a crack when Father pushed inside and closed it again behind him. He pulled his hood down, lines creasing deeply in his forehead.

"Alan? What's wrong," Mother asked, trying to hold back her own worry for a moment. She reached up to touch Father’s face but he flinched away with a pained wince.

"There was an...accident in town," he started, covering his mouth with a clenched fist, knuckles scratched. "A...kid went too close to a river. It was overflowing from rain and…" Father looked at mother, his voice going quiet. "He fell in…"

"No..."

"We couldn't find him in time...and if that wasn’t bad enough they blamed-" Father looked into the house, noticing the broken chair and pointing at it "What happened here?"

Mother took a deep breath. She pursed her lips together like when Carmine wouldn’t finish her dinner. "Some...people from town came by…" She started with a glance at Carmine. Mother leaned into Father's ear, whispering so low not even Carmine's hearing could listen, but she saw her father's face fall just fine.

He walked over without a word, and wrapped Carmine in his arms. For just a moment, she felt safe again, but the fear came creeping back soon enough. It had never really left.

After a minute he let her go, giving her hair a rustle.

"Can you reach Nicholos?" Father asked Mother. Carmine looked up at her Father, shock and betrayal in her eyes. Was he serious? Were they going to send her away?

"I can try," Mother replied. "It might take a while…"

"I think we should, but...if you disagree-"

"I don't. This...this is too much for a child."

"No!" Carmine leapt up from her chair, and wrapped arms around her father's neck. "I don't want to go!" Tears started falling from her eyes. They couldn't leave her now!

Mother and Father exchanged worried glances.

"Maybe...we should all go." Mother suggested.

"Not all of us." Father replied. "Someone has to keep the horses fed. I'll stay."

"Alan-"

"You have to have a home to come back to. I'll make sure you do."

Mother winced, but nodded. She put her arms under Carmine's and lifted her up.

"It's late." She said, trying to hide the crack in her voice. "It's time to go to bed sweetie."

"But Dad-" Carmine stammered only to have mother's finger pressed to her lips.

"Dad will be here in the morning." Mother assured her. "We'll have breakfast together and then...we'll talk."

"Night Carmine," Father said as he kissed her forehead. "Don't worry, Mom and Dad are going to sort this out. Just try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay," Carmine parroted. Some warmth filled her heart. Mum and Dad could fix anything...she hoped.

Mother took Carmine to her room, tucking her into bed with a smile that didn't match her brow.

"Good night, Sweetheart." She said in barely a whisper, lingering for every moment she could.

"Mum," Carmine called out inquisically. "Are we okay?"

Silence met her question. Mother sat at her bedside, holding onto a quivering smile as it trembled away from her. Even in the candle light, she saw Mother could hide her tears just as well as Carmine could. She sat up out of bed and pulled her mother into a tight hug, squeezing as tightly as she could. Mother did the same, choking back the sobs that forced their way through.

Minutes passed. Eventually Mother lifted her head, meeting Carmines eyes.

"We'll get through this," Mother promised. "No matter what happens, we'll be together."