by Sarra Cannon
I remembered having read about Brita and Anna before. After Arianna’s death, they helped Prince Thales, but the three of them failed. The sisters couldn’t even save Thales when his end came. Back in their hometown, the sisters were accused of being evil, of meeting with the devil and doing his bidding, and for some reason, they didn’t run away, they didn’t fight it. The sisters were burned at the stake.
I nodded. “Why are you telling me all this?”
The woman’s smile widened. “Everything we talk about here, everything you see here, is part of your test.”
I felt the blood rushing out of my face. I was doomed. “Oh.”
“Welcome, Hazel, I’m Denise,” the woman said, serious now. She gestured to the witch on her right, a beautiful woman with red hair, wearing a white dress. “This is Cora.” Then she pointed to an older witch with graying hair and wearing a dark green dress on her left side. “This is Grace.” She moved on to a woman with dark skin and curly brown hair, wearing a light pink gown, seated at Grace’s left. “This is Amelia.” She motioned to the last one. “And I believe you already met Lenora.” I nodded. “We’re the council of the White Sisterhood.”
“I— It’s an honor to be here,” I said, feeling very, very lame.
“You requested an audience with us back in August, correct?” Denise asked.
“Yes. The last week of August.”
“I apologize we took so long to contact you,” Denise continued. “As you may imagine, we’re very busy here and we like to do research about the witches wanting to see us.” Oh, here it came. “Your bloodline is weak, and you’re weaker than most. However, we think you have potential. We sense there’s more in you.”
“What?”
“Tell us about the first time your powers manifested,” Lenora said.
I frowned. “My mother was teaching Amber a mild healing potion, and I was in the back, observing. After she was done with the potion, Amber knocked the vial off the table. The ingredients were hard to come by. It would have been a shame to waste it. On instinct, I reached for it, but I was too far away. I would never get to the vial in time. To my surprise, the vial stopped in midair. At first, I thought it was Amber, but she said she wasn’t doing anything. Waving my hand, I brought the vial up and back to the table.”
Denise shook her head. “Not that time. We’re talking about the first time your magic manifested.” She paused. “When you were eleven.”
A chill ran through my spine. “How …?”
She offered me a small smile. “We know everything. Tell us.”
I had never told this tale to anyone, not even my mother or my sister. In fact, I had forced myself to forget about it, to push it away, to ignore it, and pretend it never happened.
I gulped, willing my heartbeat to return to normal. “I was an odd kid. Too skinny and quiet. I liked reading and science. I was picked on by bullies all the time. There was this girl. She was two years older than me and a whole lot bigger. She loved pushing me, calling me names, just bothering me. She started stealing my lunch and throwing away my homework. One day, she was following me home, taunting me. I was carrying a Mother’s Day gift I had made in school, very proud of my artistic skills. She pushed me and I fell in the dirt, destroying the gift. I … I don’t know. I just reacted. I threw my hands at her. She flew several feet and fell on her back. But I didn’t stop. With my magic, I lifted her up in the air and squeezed her throat. She was turning purple and that’s when I realized what I was doing. I … I almost killed her. I stopped and she ran away, yelling I was a freak.” It had been terrible. The girl spread rumors at school, and then all the kids called me freak. My sister didn’t understand and she kept asking me about it, but I pretended I didn’t know why they were picking on me.
“Did you try using your powers after that?” Denise asked.
I sighed. “Not really. I was afraid of hurting someone else.”
She nodded. “Your fear suppressed your magic, until you were seventeen and it couldn’t hold anymore. It slipped through your barrier, even though you didn’t want it to.”
Shame hurt my chest. “It’s not that I didn’t want it.”
“I understand,” Denise said.
“Anyway,” Lenora continued. “We’ll give you a chance.”
Forgetting about my depressive past, my heart soared. “Really?”
Denise smiled. “All the witches that joined our coven had to prove themselves. You’ll have to do the same.”
Oh shit. “What do I have to do?”
Her smiled faded. “During Halloween night, the veil between the living world and the dead world becomes too thin. So thin, that it actually rips in several places, especially here in New Orleans. Many of our witches spend the night finding and patching the cuts in the veils, then sending the ghosts back to their side. That will be your job.” She waved her hand and a rolled parchment popped in front of my face, much like Lenora did the day before. I closed my hand around it. “Here’s a list of places in New Orleans where the veil will mostly likely rip. Close as many cuts as you can, send as many ghosts back as you can, and we’ll talk later about your performance.”
I gulped. So it wasn’t a do-this-and-you’ll-pass kind of test. It was a do-this-and-we’ll-talk-about-it one. I was nervous because I wanted to please them, not because of how hard the test was. I had been sending ghosts back to their side for a long time. However, I had never closed a cut or sent a bunch of ghosts back at the same time. I wasn’t sure I could do it, not with how weak I was, but I sure would try.
“Report back here on November first by noon. Do you understand the terms of your test, Hazel?” Denise asked.
I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
“Then you’re dismissed,” Denise said. “Good luck.”
As if they had comprehended her words, the double doors opened. Lenora stood from her chair and led me back to the front of the castle.
“Good luck,” she said from atop the front stairs.
“Thanks.” I walked down the steps, through the garden and under the gate. I stopped for a moment and gawked again at the magnificent white castle. It could be the second to last time I saw it, and I wanted to keep it in my memories.
Sighing, I turned away and faced the edge of the forest.
One of the guards came to my side. He extended his hand between two trees and the door appeared. He opened it for me. “Good luck,” he said.
I nodded, knowing I would need way more than luck to help me with this test.
Chapter 3
On my way back to campus, I opened the notes app on my phone and started a list of things I would need. Since I wasn’t powerful enough alone, I would need potions, lots of potions, of all kinds I could think of, to help me out on the task.
I also called my mother. Of course, she squealed loud enough to almost burst my eardrum. I wanted to ask for advice, but it would go to her head, and she would stay on the phone with me until tomorrow morning, probably telling me stuff I already knew. I knew her grimoire, her mother’s grimoire, her grandmother’s grimoire, and Amber’s grimoire by heart, what else could she tell me that I didn’t know?
At the top of my list was a trip to the Midnight Cauldron tomorrow after class. The witch doctor there would have all the ingredients I needed, and she would probably know a thing or two about Halloween and ghosts in New Orleans.
I was walking to my dorm building when I saw Sean leaning against the wall of the building next to mine, in the mouth of the same alley I was trying to catch a ghost two nights ago. His leg was propped up, his foot on the wall, and a cigarette in his hand. His face, half hidden under the hoodie, was turned up, his eyes fixed on a window or a spot on the wall on the third or fourth floor.
What was he doing here? Perhaps he was waiting for a girl. For some reason, a little jealousy made its way into my chest. I should play it cool and ignore him, like he did to me in class this morning, but I just couldn’t help it.
I walked up to him. “You were
running yesterday, and now you’re smoking. Isn’t that like opposites?”
He turned his face to me, his bright blue eyes piercing mine, and his expression flat. “At least I run.”
I glanced at the spot he seemed to be staring at. “Are you waiting for someone?”
He frowned. “What?”
“You were looking up as if you were waiting to see someone, or waiting for someone to come down.”
He took a long drag of his cigarette, and then let the smoke out of his mouth slowly before answering. “No. No. I’m just …” He trailed off, not finishing whatever was on his mind.
The power of the other night fleeted through the alley, and I snapped my head toward it, sure that it was stronger now. Shit. If Sean weren’t here, I would have entered the alley and tried contacting it, even without drawing the circle and placing the crystals.
I turned my back to the alley, trying as hard as I could to ignore the ghost.
The Halloween party poster was stapled to a tree along the sidewalk. I opened my mouth and was about to ask him if he was going to the party, but I remembered his sister had died during that night last year. I bet he wouldn’t go.
I wished I knew more about what happened. Where were they exactly? How did she die? I wished I could help him with his grief. I wished there was a spell to bring back the dead, or to make someone forget, or at least to take away the pain. But none of those were viable options.
Sean followed my line of sight. “Are you going to the party?”
“N-no.”
“Why? No one asked you out yet?” he asked. I tilted my head, wondering what he meant. He must have seen it in my face, because he averted his eyes and said, “I mean, guys must have asked you, right? You’re too beautiful to ignore. Then, what? You said no because the one you want hasn’t asked you yet?”
Wait. Pause. He thought I was too beautiful to ignore? Where’d that come from? “N-no, I’m not waiting for anyone to ask me out. And I wouldn’t mind going alone, if that were the case. I just … I don’t go to parties much.”
He returned his eyes to mine. He took another pull off his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it. “I’m not a partygoer either. I used to be though.”
Great opening for me to ask him more about it, without actually pushing the subject too hard, if it weren’t for the freaking power in the alley, floating around, growing stronger then weaker, stronger then weaker. Teasing me as if daring me to follow it. I glanced over my shoulder. If the ghost wanted, it could let us see it. I prayed it didn’t. I didn’t need a damaged Sean to be even more damaged.
The power zipped through the air and rushed to my building through a window on the fourth floor.
“Everything all right?” Sean asked.
I turned back to him and forced a small smile. “Yeah, sure. I just … I have stuff to do. Homework and a project.” I retreated a step. “See you around?”
Sean nodded, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Without another word, he turned his back to me and walked away. Retreating to my building’s door, I watched his tall, nicely framed figure until he rounded a corner and was gone.
I sighed.
The power inside the building spiked, and I rushed inside, following it until I was in front of a closed dorm door on the fourth floor. Room 408. Voices were coming from inside. Damn it.
Hoping no one would think I was creepy, I leaned against the opposite wall and closed my eyes. I focused on my magic and said, “Apparet.”
The power vanished.
I opened my eyes and stared at the closed door as if it held all the secrets I needed to unveil. What the hell? Was my magic so weak that even the ghost found it pathetic and played with me?
The door opened and a blond girl stepped out. She paused and spoke to someone else inside the room. “Okay. I’m just going to see if they have it in another color.” She lifted her hand, gesturing to a paper bag she held. The bag was black with the logo of one of the biggest costume stores around. I could see the point of a purple witch hat peeking from it. “Be right back.”
Not noticing me, she strolled down the hallway to the stairs. Her red-haired roommate poked her head around the door. “Hey, ask them if they have it in red. We could go to the party in matching costumes.”
Halted at the edge of the stairs, the blonde nodded. “Great idea.” They smiled at each other before moving on.
Hmm. An idea sprouted in my mind.
***
Tuesdays and Thursdays were my busiest days. I had two classes in the morning and two in the afternoon. According to Kimberly, I was crazy for taking so many credits. She wasn’t too far from the truth.
After my classes, though, time passed in slow motion. If there were spells to stop or slow time, I would be sure someone was messing with me. But since there weren’t, the only thing to blame was my nerves. I had already gone through the meeting, why was I still nervous? Oh, let me see, because I had to prove to the white witches that I could do this and that I was worth joining their coven.
I was doomed.
I had planned to cook a quick dinner for me at my dorm—Kimberly was out with her friends, of course—but I was too fidgety to stay still. I needed to walk, to be around other people, to watch life. Maybe something would catch my attention, and I would forget about my test and relax a bit. I just didn’t go to the Midnight Cauldron, because that would take a long time, and it really didn’t matter if I went today or tomorrow—I had more time tomorrow.
I checked myself in the mirror, making sure my mascara and liner hadn’t run, and that my hair wasn’t all messed up, then grabbed my purse and left.
Students milled in the hallways and lobby of my building, probably planning on getting together for an early fun night. After all, we were in college in New Orleans. Who wasn’t partying? Me, that was who. Instead, I hunted ghosts and went crazy overthinking an upcoming test.
Walking through campus, I tried not to let myself hope, but it was hard not to. I had heard about how glorious and rewarding the white witches work was. Supposedly, it was much more than hunting ghosts—that was actually one small job they did when they had spare time.
I sighed, turning a corner and walking off the university campus. The street was a French Quarter wannabe, with many bars and restaurants and even a couple fake voodoo shops, and it housed a small diner with the best burger and fries I had ever tasted. At this time of the evening, the sidewalks were already bustling, and loud music could be heard from inside bars, one competing with another.
Two buildings from the diner, a guy tripped out from a bar and bumped into me. My step faltered and I almost fell in the street, if it weren’t for the lamppost at my side and my bear-like grip on it.
“Hey!” I complained, but the guy didn’t even notice me.
Instead, he rushed toward the entrance of the bar, letting out a growl. What the …? Then Sean stepped out from inside the bar, meeting the guy head on. With a feral glint in his bright blue eyes, Sean lifted his fist and smashed the guy’s jaw. The guy scrambled back, but recovered quickly and landed a punch to Sean’s stomach. Sean doubled over, and the guy took advantage and landed an uppercut to Sean’s chin. People gathered around them on the sidewalk, watching the fight as if it were a show. Wouldn’t anyone do anything to stop them?
I stepped forward. “Stop it,” I called out. However, the hollers and the whistles of the crowd drowned my voice.
Sean kicked the guy in the side, and then punched his face again.
I walked closer. “Sean, stop it.”
He didn’t acknowledge me. He lunged at the other guy, landing another punch. Then the guy was on him again.
“Sean! Stop it!” I yelled.
That caught his attention. His eyes went wide as he stared at me. And that cost him. The guy punched his cheek so hard I swear I heard the bones cracking. Sean fell on his side on the sidewalk, grunting. The guy advanced on him, but I stepped in front of Sean and whispered, “Praerigid
us.”
The guy’s arms dropped to his side as if they weighed a ton. His legs wobbled, and soon he was on the ground too. “Help!” he shouted, unsure what was happening to him. It was a numbing spell. He would be back to normal in about fifteen minutes. A couple of guys knelt beside the numb guy, asking what was wrong.
The crowd booed me, and some even said I had disrupted their fun. Really?
I turned to Sean. He was propping up on his elbows, his face scrunched. I crouched beside him. “Are you okay?”
He opened his eyes in thin slits. “Do I look okay?”
I grabbed one of his arms. “Let me help you.”
He jerked his arm away, and wincing and grunting, stood on his own. He looked at me with something like rage in his eyes. I didn’t like it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice grating.
A little unease assaulted me, and I put my hands inside the pockets of my jacket. “I was about to grab some dinner, but then I saw you. What happened?”
“Nothing,” he barked. He took a step away from me and wobbled to the side. I caught his arm as if I was able to hold him up in case he went down. Again, he jerked his arm from my hold.
“Let me help you,” I said, my tone low, careful. His nose was bleeding, his cheek was swollen, dark red, and soon would be black, and the skin above his left eyebrow had split. “I can help you. Please.”
He groaned, but let me close. I put his arm over my shoulder and wound my arm around his back. He winced. On instinct, I lifted his hoodie and saw another red welt darkening the side of his stomach, right over a lot of well-defined muscles.
Gulping, I dropped the hoodie and focused on helping him. “Where to?”
He jerked his chin to the other side of the street. “This way.”
