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M.D. Griffith

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Molly Toothaker and the Secret of Fall River
by M.D. Griffith   

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M.D. Griffith

Exciting tale of witchcraft and druidism during the time of the Salem Witch Trials.

Sixteen year old Molly Toothaker is a witch. So is her best friend, Sara. So when they hear a witch outside their township of Fall River is about to be burnt at the stake, they sneak away to try and save her, only to return unsuccessful. They soon find out that the witch was freed but what they don’t know is that they did not pass unnoticed.


Since Molly also happens to be the Descended One according to the ancient Druid prophecy because she is of the royal bloodline, she is the culmination of witch and druid.


“One who was ordained to take on the mantle of the great Queen Boudicca, would release evil back onto the Druid world and with it she would need to face her true identity while fighting for the survival of two worlds, both witch and druid.”


Molly and Sara also don’t know that they let escape the dark spirit of a long dead Druid Priest, Urais, who wants nothing more than to get the ancient Druid staff, Belenus, so he can control the Awens of the Earth. But first he needs to be human again and to do that he needs the blood of the Descended One.


The prophecy starts coming to fruition as Molly and Sara travel to the ancient homeland of the Druids, the Isle of Mists, to help fight Urais and get the Druid staff, Belenus. With guidance of the High Priestess, Deliverance Black, Molly and Sara discover that she is to become the next Queen of the Druid people  because Molly Toothaker is the descendant of the greatest Celtic Queen of all time: Queen Boudicca!



“Hurry, they are almost upon us!” screamed Elspeth running wildly through the dense, misty forest. Enormous trees and mossy boulders filled the forest, seeming to conspire against the sisters and their attempt to elude their pursuers. The three girls slipped and stumbled all the while searching frantically for the trail back to safety, back to Callanish. Closing fast, thunderous hooves reverberated through the earth, vibrating the ground beneath their feet. The girls could hear the shouts and curses close behind them. The Perytons were close.

Elspeth, the eldest, ran ahead of Deliverance and Morven; Cautious to make sure her sisters were in tow, she led them through the northernmost regions of the Misty Forest.

Hidden in the shadows cast by the moonlight, Elspeth spotted a low recess in an outcrop of rock, concealed by thick underbrush. “Deliverance, Morven, in here quickly!” she whispered urgently sweeping the brush aside and quickly crawling through the small opening.

Inside the cramped hollow the sisters tried to conceal themselves by replacing the limbs and brambles over the opening.

“I told you not to touch that tree, Morven!” Elspeth said hotly. “And to break off the branch? What could have possessed you, sister?”

“I am sorry! But—I had to have it! Look, its large enough for all three of us!” Morven stared at the stick in her small hand, her face muddied. “Shh,” commanded Elspeth. In the darkness, they could hear and feel the hooves getting closer.

“Elspeth, curse them!” whispered Morven urgently. “They are animals!”

“I said shh! You know I cannot control my power. No druid can so far from the Guardian Stones.” Elspeth and Morven had a remarkable connection; Elspeth could read her sister’s mind and knew it whirled in frustration thinking of spells that might work against these eaters of flesh. Elspeth closed her eyes, searching deep within to draw out the power she felt before, though it was hopeless. She was just too far away from the Stones and their power.

“But we are more than mere druids. We are witches!” Morven pleaded. “Listen to me! You said so yourself!” Turning to her second-born sister, Morven exclaimed, “Deliverance, you do it then!”

“You heard Elspeth,” Deliverance answered unsteadily. “We are not witches! Just saying it does not make it so! Besides, I do not have the kind of power Elspeth does, especially this far from the stones. Not to mention, it is forbidden!”

Morven had never been one to listen to her sisters. She was more reckless and daring, and being the youngest she felt that whatever trouble she got into her sisters would come to her rescue.

“I see something,” whispered Elspeth, peering through the mouth of the small damp cave.

From the darkness, an ominous voice called out, “I know you are near, druids! You cannot escape us. Your meager powers are nothing so far from your walls!” The Peryton’s voice was deep and threatening. “Bring us the descended one!”

“The descended one?” whispered Deliverance puzzled.

Elspeth shrugged as she stole a glance through the bushes.

The sisters held hands and their breaths because the monstrous four-legged creatures’ lead tracker was Skallan, the most evil of all Peryton’s.

Elspeth could see five shapes in the moonlit night. The moon’s dim glow reflected the glimmer on their feathery stag-like forms, but their shadows took the form of the men they were thousands of years ago. They were flesh eaters and many had become their prey, despite their habit of hiding deep within their valley.

Crack! Crack!

Elspeth and Deliverance jumped at the noise behind them while Morven sat motionless clutching the sacred, stolen tree branch. Elspeth gripped Morven’s knee tightly as she gave her a stern warning.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” asked Deliverance as she took Morven by the shoulders and shook her lightly.

“Leave me alone! If you will not curse them, I will!” said the younger sister with determination, her teeth gritted in anger.

Elspeth and Deliverance stared at Morven blankly.

“What is that? What are you doing?” asked Elspeth noticing her sister’s clutched hands.

Morven held up three sticks of equal length, her eyes darting from Elspeth to Deliverance. “I broke the tree branch into three. You were there, both of you in the sacred hall! You heard what the Head Priestess said, with a limb from the sacred tree, one of us could channel our powers as no druid has ever before.” She then passed one of the three pieces to each of her sisters.

“The Maids and Ollamhs said someone, they never said it would be us!” scolded Deliverance. “You know that, for centuries, we have had an agreement with the Peryton’s --we would never take from that tree.” Deliverance‘s brow creased with worry; that was her trait. If one thing distinguished Deliverance from her sisters, it was her constant worrying. She never did anything without a great deal of thought.

A small sigh escaped Morven’s mouth. “I think they do not want us to take from that tree because they are scared it may enhance our powers. Perhaps it will give us the power of witches? Perhaps we are the three of the prophecy? You saw the sacred stone in the center of the moon circle! The only tree close to it was the one I took the branch from.” Morven’s anger grew as she turned toward her older sister. “Elspeth, they stole the Guardian Stone first! It does not belong to them. The stone and the tree where Lochru’s power is hidden belongs to us!”

“No! It is ours,” a raspy voice said suddenly from just beyond the mouth of the small cave. It was Skallan.

The sisters screamed.

“Our arrows are trained on you. Come out! There is no place for you to run,”

“Sister, what shall we do?” asked Deliverance.

“Let me think. Just give me a moment,” answered Elspeth.

“You are both cowards!” Morven said harshly, inching forward to brace her knees against her sisters. “Use the branch. Channel your powers through the wood. It will work for one of us! We are the three! Remember? The three shall become one when the one becomes one of the three!”

“We are not the three!” Elspeth answered harshly. “In the Avesta, one of the three dies, while the other two retrieve the staff of Lochru, not a twig from a tree!”

No more than a heartbeat later, Elspeth and Deliverance were knocked to the ground landing in a heap against the walls of the hollow. Morven scurried past them, holding a piece of gnarled wood before her. “Melltithio!” she shouted when she emerged from the small cave. Elspeth’s breath caught in her throat as she saw a flash of light come from the branch Morven tightly held. Suddenly a blue-black light enveloped the youngest sister. The branches Elspeth and Deliverance held burst into flames causing both girls to fling them to the ground. The Peryton’s scattered as a burst of light shot outward from Morven striking at their feet. They shouted in fright before bolting in confusion. Elspeth and Deliverance surged forth from the small cave. What they saw froze them. Morven stood facing them in the center of the clearing encased within a cocoon of light, horror upon her face. The two girls screamed as the youngest of the three sisters began to fade away, her small hands scratching wildly trying to free herself until she was no more.

“Morven! Morven!” the sisters screamed in anguish into the night. Above them, the ghostly light of the moon shone weakly, their screams filling the night air.

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