The Bewitching Twin by Donna Fletcher

a plea more than a question and one she had heard endless times before.
    She had found that no good came of lying to the ill. “I cannot say for sure, though I am encouraged by your courage.”
    “I want to live,” he said with conviction.
    She took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. “Then fight along with me.”
    “I will never stop fighting.”
    “Neither will I.”
    His eyes closed and his faint smile faded and Aliss continued to hold his hand.
    Anna showed up shortly after midnight. “Go rest, the sick will be expecting your visits tomorrow.”
    Aliss nodded. “Instruct his grandmother what to do then get some rest yourself. I prefer he not be alone during the night and you taking turns with me helps relieve me of the sole burden of his evening care.”
    “I enjoy helping,” Anna said and took the seat beside the bed.
    “Again, if fever or—”
    “I know,” Anna interrupted. “You are to be summoned directly if fever or fester sets in.”
    “I see that I leave him in capable hands.”
    Anna turned to refill the water cup and the fire’s light glared off the rash on her neck.
    Aliss could not help but examine it.
    Anna jumped when Aliss’s finger touched her.
    “I am sorry,” Aliss apologized. “I have been meaning to have a look at your rash. How long have you had it?”
    “It started just around the time people began falling ill.”
    Aliss studied the persistent skin irritation. “I think I may be able to rid you of it.”
    “Really?”
    She rummaged in her basket and opened a small crock. With a gentle touch, Aliss covered the rash with the thick salve.
    She handed the crock to Anna. “It may take several applications before we see results.”
    Anna hugged it to her chest. “I will faithfully apply it as often as is necessary.”
    “Morning and night to start,” Aliss said and yawned.
    “Go and rest, morning will be here soon enough.”
    Anna was right. Morning arrived with a shock; another new case of the mysterious illness had surfaced and fear grew in the healthy.
    In late afternoon Aliss returned to the cottage to replenish her basket, and realized that she needed to take time and search the surrounding woods for herbs. A few of her staple herbs were nearly depleted and she could not afford to run out of any of them.
    When she left the cottage, she gave a quick glance to the woods behind it. She halted. Had there been a stirring in the woods? A figure? A pair of eyes? Green ones like the ones before?
    Or had she imagined them? Yet again?
    A strong hand grasped her shoulder.
    Aliss jumped and yelped.
    “I am sorry,” Rogan said, stepping in front of her. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
    Aliss took hold of his forearm. “I was deep in thought and did not hear you approach.”
    “You were staring at the woods.”
    She nodded and grasped his arm more tightly. “I think my tired mind sees things that are not there.”
    “The woods are safe now.”
    “That is good to know.” Still she clung to his arm.
    “Aliss! Aliss!”
    She let go of Rogan and turned to see a frenzied John running toward her.
    “Hurry, James’s grandmother is screaming that Anna is a witch.”
    A crowd had gathered around James’s cottage listening to the hysterical woman inside screaming accusations of witchcraft and the devil’s cohort at Anna.
    Rogan quickly dispersed them with a firm voice. “Go tend to your business.”
    Aliss hurried into the house followed by John and Rogan.
    Anna turned to Aliss. “I stopped by to see how he was and he suddenly began burning with fever.”
    The old woman rushed to Rogan’s side, grasping at his shirt. “Keep the devil’s own from my grandson. She brought this fever on him. He was fine before she entered and laid hands on him.”
    “Anna did no such thing,” Aliss said sternly, while hurrying to examine James. “She is a new healer with good instincts. She would cause no one intentional harm.”
    “She bears the devil’s mark,” the woman said,