Had she led such a bad life that this was her punishment?
“All it takes is a dash of destiny, and everything can change.”
Was this her destiny all along? Had she been drifting toward this moment?
So much tragedy. It rushed over her. Her brother’s death had led to her mother’s absence. Her father’s illness had fallen upon her shoulders. She didn’t regret caring for him, but she hated losing him. Then came the loneliness and struggle to pay bills.
Life had not been easy, but she had not lived it badly. She didn’t deserve this.
What did she deserve?
There was something….
Someone…
Rory.
She wanted Rory.
She thought of his smile, and the cold didn’t feel so cold. She imagined his laugh, so real it felt as if he was trapped next to her. This would be the thought she carried into eternity—Rory, and all they could have been together.
The idea triggered her imagination, and she felt Rory against her flesh. He was part of her, in her, and she was in him wherever he was.
Jennifer saw his life as an observer in a dream. She saw him moving through time. He walked through tall grasses. His hand danced along the tops as he pushed through them, each brush of his palm like a caress. She witnessed him running after a woman, into danger. She felt his despair when he’d watched her sink into the earth. He had tried to save her with no thought of himself.
It was then Jennifer understood what happened in this enchanted bog. Sinners were encased in darkness. This was a place of judgment. The bog witch collected souls, but only those who proved themselves worthy of her punishment. Jenny Greentooth planted them in the soil, and they churned and rotted to nourish the peat.
Rory didn’t deserve to be here. He’d come into the bog to rescue a stranger, and Jenny had wanted to take him, for she was greedy and wanted her souls, but she’d been unable to keep him planted. He had not been worthy of her garden. The clarity of seeing Rory’s life laid out before her made Jennifer convinced of that fact. He was a good man with a kind soul. His selflessness had protected him. All those years ago in Ireland, Jenny had marked his soul so that it would find his way back to her judgment.
If Jenny needed a soul, then Jennifer would let the bog witch have hers. She would take Rory’s place.
Jennifer felt movement near her head. Sharp nails scratched her scalp as someone grabbed hold of her hair and pulled. The thick mud released her from its prison as she was brought into the light. She gagged, expelling filth from her mouth, just like in the cheese-induced acid trip. She tried to see, but mud stung her eyes.
Someone’s breathing sounded like a cross between a death rattle and the rasp of a heavy smoker. Her rescuer dragged her from the bog by her hair. When her hand broke free, Jennifer swiped clumps of peat from her vision. Her legs pulled from the muck with a terrible sticking sound. Once free of the bog, she slid much faster. The hold on her hair hurt, but she didn’t care if it meant safety.
Suddenly, her head thumped against the ground as her rescuer dropped her. Jennifer weakly reached out as a creature stepped past her. She made contact with a leg, causing the decrepit woman to turn her attention downward.
Jenny Greentooth.
Jennifer instantly let go. The hunched, bony frame looked as if it might have once been human. Long stringy hair clung to the bog witch’s back. Mud coated her naked, wrinkled flesh like paint.
“Rory,” Jennifer whispered, unable to scream for him like she wanted.
Jenny’s unfortunate, noseless face pressed close. The raspy breathing was louder now, joined by the foulness of her breath.
“Rory,” Jennifer repeated. “Take me for Rory.”
The words seemed to annoy the witch, and she growled. Jennifer flinched, but Jenny didn’t touch her again. She merely stood and continued back to the bog.
Jim barked in excitement and ran past her. Jennifer pushed up, trying to grab the puppy but missed it. He pranced after Jenny. The bog witch ignored the dog.
“Rory?” Jennifer called a little louder. She couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t have left her behind. There was only one place he could be.
Jennifer crawled after Jenny.
Jenny flung her arms, grumbling and growling as she clawed her way into the earth. Suddenly, she thrust her hand inside the small hole she’d made and turned. With one hand, she dragged Rory from the bog toward Jennifer. Her hunched body didn’t appear to labor under the task. Once he was free from the hole, Jenny dropped him on the ground near Jennifer.
“Rory?” Jennifer swiped the mud from his face, digging past his lips to remove it from his mouth.
For several very long seconds, his chest did not move. She didn’t want to breathe mud into his lungs but didn’t know what else to do. She pressed her mouth to his and prepared to force air into him.
Rory’s hand pressed into her face, stopping her. She looked down to see his handsome eyes gazing up at her. She exhaled sharply in relief.
“Rory,” she whispered. “Oh, thank goodness.”
She glanced up to see Jenny standing in the disrupted soil. Her body was slowly sinking into the earth.
“Thank you,” Jennifer said, too weak to stand and unwilling to leave Rory’s side.
Jenny’s answer was anything but pleasant. The bog witch opened her mouth wide and let out a horrible screech.
“Jennifer?” Rory’s voice came on a pant.
Jennifer kept her hand on his chest to feel him breathing but watched Jenny as she disappeared into the ground.
“How?” Rory asked, his hand slipping over hers on his chest.
“She let
