by Mark Hockley
left.
Ellie was in the library of her house. Her house. It seemed surreal, but for now at least that was the way it was. She was waiting to be summoned by Margaret for some kind of briefing on this mysterious mission she had been earmarked for.
There was gentle rapping on the door and Ellie shifted her attention from the line of books she had been perusing. "Hello!" she called.
The door opened and John deferentially stepped inside. "Ma'am," he began with courteous professionalism, all the more disconcerting because he must have been all of ten years old. "You have a visitor."
The girl became immediately uneasy. "Who is it?" she enquired, trying to keep the edge she felt out of her voice.
John remained composed and self-possessed. "She says she is a friend of yours. But she is a maid, Ma'am. From the White Coven. Most irregular."
Ellie processed what he had just said and then slowly at first, but becoming more pronounced, a smile began to bloom on her face. "Beth?" she said, already moving.
By the time she had reached the doorway and passed by John, she was running. When she came into the entrance hall she had to skid to a halt as she saw her friend standing awkwardly in the foyer. "Beth!" she cried out and rushed to greet her, throwing her arms around the girl and hugging her. Tears were streaming down Ellie's face while Beth held onto her just as hard.
"I've missed you," Ellie told her, half laughing, half sobbing. "Are you okay? What's been happening to you!?" She stepped back a little to appraise the other girl. "How are you? Tell me. I've been so worried."
Beth gazed back at her and there were tears in her eyes too. "I'm okay I suppose," she managed, "if you can call being a damn servant okay. Basically, they treat me like a slave so it's pretty bad. But I haven't been tortured or anything!"
Ellie took hold of her hands and squeezed them tightly. "I'm so happy to see you. Things have been horrible. Did you hear about me and Luke?"
The other girl stared at her blankly. "What about you and Luke?"
Her face reddening, Ellie tried to think how she could explain, but decided there was no time for soft pedalling. "We got married," she announced with a certain amount of theatricality. With her friend there she could finally see the real humour in the situation and she needed the release of laughter and fun. Everything had been so deadly serious recently and she longed for the camaraderie of friendship.
"Married?" repeated Beth incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me!"
Ellie began to giggle. "No, seriously. We are. Well, not really. But then, we are in Witch Town and it's their law. So, I suppose, we kind of are. Sort of."
The both began to laugh then and some of the pent up tension they were both feeling receded for a moment.
"And what about Zack?" Beth asked and there was a change in her tone, something that was not lost on the other girl.
"I don't really know, I mean, he's okay, but I haven't been able to talk to him for ages. He's always with one of the Greens. They're inseparable!" She meant it as a joke, but immediately realised it had been poorly chosen as Beth's expression soured. "Come on," she said, trying to break the mood, "let's sit and have a drink together and talk properly." Beth didn't argue and followed where she was led. "How come you are even here?" Ellie queried as they walked towards the kitchen, "are the Whites going to come looking for you?"
Beth was behind the other girl so Ellie couldn't see her face, but if she had she would have seen a look of despair and sadness there. "No, it's okay," she replied, "I was given permission. Abigail wanted me to come."
Isobel of the Red Coven sat in a high backed chair in a substantial room she liked to think of as her office. It was impressive in an ostentatious way, with sumptuous furnishings, many exotic ornaments and of course, the obligatory paintings that every witch in the township possessed. They were considered a status symbol in their small society and Isobel had more than most.
She had been listening to a report, but the level three witch before her was proving to be a great disappointment as her information was flimsy at best.
"And that is all you know?" Isobel asked, her eyes fixed upon the woman.
The other witch was older, but regarded her superior with fretful anxiety. "We have them under observation, but as you know, it impossible to watch them at all times."
"As I know," parroted Isobel. "This is what I know, Miriam, you were given a task and I am not interested in excuses. It is imperative that the Red Coven have a complete overview of what is happening in Witch Town. If we do not, the others will leave us in their wake. Is that what you want?"
"No, of course not," Miriam assured her. "We are doing everything we can. Our informants have been advised that these matters are of the highest priority."
Isobel merely stared at her, her mind methodically working through all of her possible options. "Something is happening," she stated at last. "Something that will change things for us all. And know this, our Coven will not be left behind, while others enjoy the spoils of victory."
Miriam nodded her concurrence. "I understand."
"But do you?" Isobel questioned with an unexpectedly sweet smile, one that seemed incongruous in tandem with her lizard-like eyes.
The other witch became visibly uneasy and shifted in her chair, almost as if she was considering making a hasty exit. "I promise you, Isobel, that I shall redouble my efforts."
The head of the Red Coven nodded very slightly. "Of course you will. But do not disappoint me any further. Remember there are always others who hope to take your place, as there are others who hope to take mine." She paused for effect. "Perhaps you are one of them?"
The level three witch almost choked as she tried to protest. "No, Isobel, I would not presume. I am loyal. Truly I am." The woman looked almost stricken.
"But loyalty is such a fickle thing." Isobel gazed at her with dismissive contempt. "Now go and be certain that our next meeting brings news that will make us stronger. Weakness or failure will never be tolerated while I am head of this Coven."
"And long may that continue," Miriam exclaimed in such an obsequious way that she felt ashamed the moment she had said it.
The walk to the Blue Coven was about as uncomfortable experience as Zack had ever known. He kept trying to think of how to word what he wanted to say, only to dismiss it as stupid and tactless.
As much as he might have wished he could just stop and hug the girl, tell her it was all okay, he knew that was out of the question. Not only was it broad daylight and numerous other Witch Town residents were going about their own business, he feared that Leonie would not welcome such attention from him at the moment. She was definitely withdrawn and seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts and emotions.
"I'm really sorry," he finally managed to say after several painful minutes of indecision.
The young witch gave him a fleeting glance. "Why?" she asked simply.
Zack hadn't expected this and there followed another strained silence. "Because I think I might have offended you," he told her eventually.
They passed a group of three witches whose accessories designated them as from the Red Coven and there were cursory nods towards Leonie.
"You do not understand anything, do you?" she said once the other women had moved on.
The boy was having trouble keeping up. "I...no, I suppose I don't." Zack was way out of his depth and he knew it.
"It is my honour that is in question. Can you not see that?"
Zack tried to fathom what she was talking about, but struggled. "But you just made that stuff up to keep Allana off our backs, didn't you?"
With a sigh, Leonie led him along a grassy path between two fields. The weight of the milk churn was beginning to make the boy's arms ache and he wished he could stop for a rest. Of course he was not likely to mention this, his pride and desire to prove his manliness too great to do such a thing. These thoughts almost made him chuckle to himself, but he cut his humour short, knowing that his current circumstances were anything but amusing.
"But that is not the point," she proclaimed with some exasperation. "My reputation is now forever tarnished. What I said was true, the Coven do view Mothers who have lost their husbands as commodities. They would not hesitate in using us in the way that I said."
"But you haven't, have you?" Zack said hastily, alarmed.
Now Leonie looked at him with real intensity. "What are you saying?"
With a grunt, the boy put down the churn and stopped. He felt like this entire situation was out of control and he had no idea how to proceed. "I'm...sorry. I really am. I just don't know what to say. If I keep talking I know I'm going to make things worse, but I can't not say anything! I feel like a total idiot. This is all way beyond anything I'm used to!" He knew he really did sound stupid, but he just did not know what to say or do.
She looked at him for a long moment. "You are a foolish young man," she told him, but her voice was tender and her eyes had softened.
Zack stared into her lovely green eyes and felt something move inside, a pulse, an awareness of something greater than what he thought of as love. It was a bond, more than just attraction, a recognition of someone who has touched the deepest part of his being. "I love you," he mumbled, afraid of the words.
The girl seemed to penetrate him with her gaze and before he knew it she was kissing him, the soft warmth of her lips amazing to him. The kiss went on for so long that Zack lost all sense of time and place and when she
