Chapter 4

The clock struck a minute and all conversations around the house seized, getting replaced by the ones of the approaching humans.

"Mum, Miss Stacey says she wants a new doll," piped a little, red-haired child, obliviously striding through a row of shelves. A black cat walked beside her.

Her mother rushed onwards, passing through the opposite wall. Her hands were filled with grocery bags. She hurriedly said, "Stacey can't say she wants a doll, honey. She's a cat."

"But, mum! She told me!" 

From a few paces down, the mock-gasp of her dad sounded. "Honey, I think our daughter's a cat whisperer. Hey, Hailey hun, tell me what else Stacey's said."

The little girl pouted. "She said it's high time you got a shave."

Barking out a laugh, her dad swopped in and scooped her up, raising her high up into the air and spinning. She shrieked out endless giggles, splaying her small arms wide.

Something in my chest tightened.

I never had that growing up, a real family. Although I did have numerous aunts who loved me, I often wondered what it would've been like to not get passed around like a burden each time I wailed too loudly or had special needs.

They loved me, but they loved their youth more, and I didn't blame them one bit. I imagined it must have been a nightmare getting saddled with a baby at such a young and exciting stage of their lives.

"Come on, Stacey!" the girl paused in between giggles to yell.

Feeling eyes on me, I looked down and froze when my gaze connected with the blue ones of the cat.

'Shoo,' I mouthed silently, waving her away.

I jerked back when she hissed at me, baring tiny fangs.

"Stacey, come on! Stop hissing at the wall!"

After a final stink eye she ran after her owners, getting picked up by the older woman and placed into the backseat of the car.

Once they drove off, I expelled a pent breath.

All noise resumed. I grabbed my stuff and went upstairs, shouldering my way into my room to get my spell book. I realized I'd walked into an argument.

"Give it back!" Corinne shrieked at another witch, Aradia.

"No," she replied plainly. "You've had your sweet time with it." Then she slung the pair of loubotines over her shoulder like you would a bindle, turning to go.

"But I've only worn it for one initiation ceremony. Just one!"

"Yeah? The condition of the soles would beg to differ, C--"

Hellene dropped the book she was reading with a scoff. "Can you both just stop with the stupid argument already. It's not like we're going for some fashion show."

Aradia paused and turned to regard her in mock-pity, a pair of black shades over her destructive eyes. "Oh, honey, we might as well be. A lot of witches are going to be at the congress. A hundred and twenty-six covens of them."

"Yeah," Corinne said, agreeing with her for once. "And let's not forget, the House of Wicca contains a few fey men. And fey men equals hot men."

Hellene rolled her eyes. "You're still going to wear a long cloak over your clothes anyway, so I don't know why you even bother to dress up nicely."

Corinne ignored her statement, pinning a glare on Aradia. "I said," she began lowly, dark clouds gathering in the sky. "Give... It. Back."

Aradia placed a finger on her chin thoughtfully. "Let me think about it... No."

Anger flashed in Corinne's gaze and wisps of air shot out her fingertips, growing into a raging tornado. Stuffs around the room instantly flew away from the force of it, including Hellene's book. 

Hair blowing around my face, I gripped my spell book tighter, yelling, "Cut it out, Corinne!"

My voice was lost over the sound of items crashing and cluttering against themselves.

Just as Corinne sent the cyclone Aradia's way, she pulled down her shades and caught Cor's gaze. In a split second she froze, the cyclone diminishing. A crushing noise sounded as her feet turned to ice, the blue crystals racing up her legs to invade her torso and arms, then finally, her face down to the roots of her black hair.

Aradia smiled sweetly. "You know what I love most about ice sculptures?" she asked no one in particular. "They don't talk."

As she headed out of the room, I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to put it in order. A normal day in the coven. It'd have been abnormal if no one fought.

Standing, I took out all the essentials I needed from the potions pot, including some burdock roots, sulfur, and a bottle mercury. I took pains to keep my fingers around the base of the mercury bottle, hoping the element wouldn't make contact with my skin.

Mercury was to witches what wolfsbane was to lycans.

Poison. A means of torture. The slightest touch of mercury could make a witch beg for death.

Passing by Corinne's frozen figure, I headed down to the cave. 

The cauldrons in here were a bit rusty, courtesy of our lazy asses not using it to make the potions we were required to. Rolling out a cauldron with a strained huff, I placed it over a large tripod, lighting the burner.

Pouring in some base elements, I waited until the transparent liquid began to bubble before throwing in some burdock roots. 

The liquid churned violently then turned a glittering green. Rays of light emerged from it to illuminate the dark room. After I'd put in all the other materials, I walked around the cave, counting down seconds until the potion was done.

The flapping of wings drew my attention to the entrance. An owl flew in, heading towards one of the large cabinets. It wrapped its claws around a handle and drew it open, retrieving a vial, then I watched it fly away. 

Not all witches had familiars. The few who were assigned familiars were the ones Hecate didn't deem worthy enough to receive her gift, is what my aunt Isobel always told me.

I was supposed to get mine already. Because witches got their Inherent gifts the day they turned immortal. It's been a week for me and still no show. 

Isobel had already started to look at me with pity in her eyes...

The liquid cooled soon after and I withdrew my vial, scooping some of it in. 

Hours crawled by before Cordelia informed us it was time.

A flurry rose up in the house as witches quickly began to prepare for the ceremony. After a quick shower, I riffled through my closet and selected a simple blue dress. I rushed through my make up, applying some mascara and lip gloss.

Before the mirror, my large grey eyes stared back at me as I combed out my dark hair, pinning it at my nape in a careless chignon.

I grabbed my black cloak and headed out, rushing down the stairs to meet up with the rest in the wide hall. The large, black clock in shape of a pointy hat ticked into the silence.

Sybil stood beside the High-priestess in charge of our coven, already dressed in her cloak. Her grey eyes bore into me as I shrugged into my cloak.

"I'm here, I'm here," rushed out Corinne as she came to stand beside Sybil.

When we were all complete, Meredith, our High-priestess, went on to take a sip of her apparating potion, leaving us to do the same.

Opening my bottle, I took a mouthful and winced deeply at the bitter taste of it. A nauseous sensation built in my stomach and the world tilted crazily, making me drop the bottle. The glass shattering was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

Groggy, I blinked my eyes open, staggering on my feet a bit.

The sound of nightlife hit me and I focused on my surroundings. I was in a hidden alley. Music blared from a distance, accompanied by the loud voices of people chattering and cars whizzing by. Lights from the street lamps around shone into the darkness, illuminating the busy road. 

Shivering, I drew my cloak tighter around me when cold air bit into my skin.

"Come on, Lowe!" Maren called, moving ahead with the rest.

I rushed forward, joining up with them as they filed into a lone bus. Meredith gave instructions to the man and he began to speed down the road, uncaring of the annoyed horns that blared his way.

In no time we reached the House. The glamour around the building made it look like a lovely, demure cottage, but I saw it for what it was. A dark, stately building that rose up into the sky. 

The heavy pillars around its anterior held up the arching roofs, and on them, life gargoyles looked down at us as we approached, their ghastly wings spread out in readiness to attack. A shiver ran down my spine and I looked away from them.

A portly warlock met us at the wide entrance. "Welcome, Meredith," he said on a low note. "It is a pleasure having you here."

"The pleasure is mine, Sebastian," came the reply of our old priestess.

He proceeded to lead us in. Past the lavishly adorned halls and corridors we went, then into an impossibly massive stone hall lighted with several candles. 

Multitudes of witches were already gathered, and ahead of us, sat on a single throne-like chair, was the head of the House of Wicca, the Witch Queen herself; Allegra Cavajo.

This was my first time seeing her in person and although I stood a fair distance away from her, I was no less staggered to be in her presence. She radiated raw power.

When she saw we were all complete, her dark, exotic features flushed with pride and she stood, then began to speak slowly, "It is a pleasure to see you all gathered here today. We've waited centuries for this day to come."

The gathering murmured their agreement, and she finished with, "It is to my utmost joy that I say; we wait no more."

A dark power suddenly charged the atmosphere, chilling me down to my bones. Wind rattled the high windows as it blew in, passing through our gathering and leaving chills in its wake. 

She sat, her eyes sliding close. The air around her seemed to come alive, a bluish glow engulfing her as strands of her hair lifted. Ancient symbols appeared allover her skin.

My breath hitched in amazement. I slid my gaze around, scanning the crowd. I was shocked to note they didn't appear to be feeling as baffled as I was. I drew my gaze back to the witch queen, watching her concentrated face.

I jolted when her eyes flew open. The entirety of them were consumed with a whitish glow. Her bewitching eyes scanned the crowd now, and landed on my face.

Her next words had my blood chilling.

"You must be Willow."