I still ask myself to this day, berate myself, why didn't I keep a closer eye on Ernest? I'd become so focused on Winnifreth, on defeating Mahalia, the poor boy fell out of my sphere of concern and I blame myself for what happened to him.
Feeling rather proud of myself and my accomplishment, I didn't let my influence fade, still taking every evening to visit families and encourage their support. On one particularly fine June night I was wandering home, plotting my farewell wave to Mahalia as she burned at the stake, when I was slammed so hard with magic, I stumbled, breathless.
Sassafras! Winnifreth's mental voice slashed at me with panic. I caught the sight of Ernest on the floor before her babbling fear made pulling anything else out of her impossible.
I raced for home, only a short d
