by Mark Hockley
withdrew he only stood there in a daze.
"Milk churn," she directed in an officious voice, but her eyes danced.
"Milk churn," Zack agreed, grinning and lifted it up as if it weighed no more than a feather on the wind.
Jacob had served up a steaming pot of herbal tea and some thick slices of fruit cake. Ellie and Beth sat at the huge oak table that dominated the kitchen, picked at the food and looked at each other.
"I know," Ellie said, "it's insane, all of this."
The other girl glanced away, her expression strained. "I need to tell you why I'm here."
Ellie sat forward a little. She could tell her friend was struggling with something. "Tell me."
"Something bad happened. I did something...terrible." Reaching out to take her hand, Ellie waited for Beth to continue. "I killed one of them, one of the witches. I panicked, it just happened. I lost control and I killed her."
Ellie was stunned by this revelation. "And they know you did it?" she asked quietly, realising that everything was changing so fast it was impossible for her emotions to keep pace..
"Only Abigail," Beth told her, "but there is a price for her silence."
"What kind of price?" Ellie didn't like where this was going.
"I have to find out what you're going to do. Abigail knows the Black Coven are planning something and she wants to know what it is. She wants me to persuade you to pass the information through me to her."
"And if I don't?"
Beth's expression was very grim. "She will throw me to the wolves I guess."
Margaret was reading a book when Ellie entered her room and did not look up. "Sit down," she said distractedly.
The girl did as she was bid and then waited.
After what seemed an interminable time, the elderly witch placed the book down and focused on Ellie. "You got my note?"
Ellie spoke tentatively, treading carefully. "Yes, I did."
"Good. Please take it to heart."
The girl said nothing, understanding that a warning was all she was going to receive on this occasion. She was fortunate she knew, but of course Margaret wanted something in return. "Will you tell me more about the job you want me to do outside of Witch Town? Where am I'm going?"
The witch studied her with a sense of cool detachment. "I would not be so eager to leave when you do not know what is being asked of you."
"That's why I'm asking," Ellie fired back, her apprehension lost for the moment. She found the old witches attitude very irritating.
With a dry chuckle, Margaret tapped her nails upon the wooden desk. "There is an artefact that we would like to reclaim. It is held in the house of a collector of such things, antiquities you might say. Your experience of the outside world may prove beneficial, but more than this it will be a test of your faithfulness." She eyed the girl with good humour. "There are those who doubt your commitment to us."
"Sounds reasonable enough," Ellie responded, playing the woman at her own game.
Margaret's features became taut."For company," she said in an ice cold tone, "you will have your recent sparring partners, Helen and Grace. They are only too pleased to see you put through your paces in reality rather than rehearsal. I can assure you that the two are very different indeed."
Ellie found it difficult to hide her consternation. "And this artefact," she queried, attempting to conceal her true feelings, "will you tell me what it is?"
"Why of course, my dear," Margaret replied, all at once magnanimous. "It is the original amulet worn by our true mistress, Rebecca. Her own SpiritHeart. This is what you must return to us."
26
What am I supposed to do? I have no idea. What is that saying about being between the Devil and the deep blue sea? Well, I am in it. Beth wants me to help her, but how can I do that? If Margaret found out I had passed secrets to the Whites she would try to kill me, I have no doubt about that. But if I don't, what will happen to Beth? And to top it all, I'm supposed to be taking a trip with my two good buddies, Helen and Grace! It just keeps getting better and better!
Jeremiah was waiting for Zack when he arrived back at the house. His expression was not at all welcoming. "We need to talk," he told the boy.
Zack hesitantly pulled up a chair at the table and regarded the older man with uncertainty. "Has something happened?"
"You tell me," came the terse response.
Feeling his way now and not wanting to offend the man, Zack tried a different approach. "Have I done something wrong?"
Jeremiah gave a hard smile at this. "Now that depends on where you stand, I suppose. What do you think?"
"You keep asking me for my opinion, but I'm not sure what the subject is." The boy pitched this as mildly as he could, but the truth was he was beginning to feel irritated.
"Well let me make it plain for you then," Jeremiah voiced, gazing at him levelly. "You are putting my daughter in danger."
Zack stared at him in silence. "Leonie?" he said, more because he had been caught by surprise, than because he didn't know what the man was talking about.
"She is my daughter," Jeremiah went on, "and what you are doing will not go unnoticed for long. Don't you see that she will be punished because of you. I can't let that happen."
With a hollow sensation deep in his stomach, Zack tired to think, but found that there was very little he could say. He knew the man was right. As much as he would have liked to argue and protest he knew full well they would get caught sooner or later. Of course, he was willing to take that risk and also accept the consequences. But what about Leonie? The girl that he loved. Just thinking about that made his breathing become faster, his pulse picking up speed. He did love her. It was a fact and one that he was very happy to accept. "I'll do whatever is necessary to protect her," he said fervently, his cheeks flushed. He meant it, but he was very afraid of what it might mean.
Jeremiah gave a slow nod of his head. "That may require more than you are able to give."
The boy held his gaze and remained resolute. "I would do anything." Zack took a long breath. "I love her."
The older man seemed to look deep into his eyes, as if searching for something, before finally answering. "As do I," he said with an earnestness that spoke of a heartfelt truth that could not be denied.
There was some kind of commotion in the main foyer of the White Coven house and Abigail came striding out to investigate the cause.
What she saw left her stunned and speechless.
After several long moments she regained her composure and was finally able to speak out, her voice loud and clear. "What do you think you are doing!?" she demanded, anger beginning to replace the shock she had initially experienced.
Ellie stood casually within the main entrance hall, her black belt standing out conspicuously among all of the white accessories that every other women assembled there wore. "I want to talk to you."
Abigail had resumed her usual authoritative manner now. "You are not permitted to be here. Surely you know that. This is an outrageous breach of protocol!"
The girl looked entirely unimpressed. "I don't care," she stated, "I want to talk to you."
The other White Coven witches were looking on with a combination of disbelief and scandalised fascination.
"Do you realise," began Abigail, "that I could punish you severely, very severely indeed and not one of your Sisters would raise any objection? Even Margaret must abide by the laws of Witch Town."
"Really?" Ellie asked indifferently, "so does that mean you don't want to talk to me?"
The woman regarded her indecisively. "And what may I ask, would I want to discuss with you?"
Ellie gave just the slightest of shrugs. "Oh I don't know. Maybe we could talk about babies." The other witch's stiffened at this. "Is this not something you could debate within your own Coven?" Although Abigail said this in a calm, reasonable way, there was something in her tone that betrayed anxiety.
The girl just shook her head. "No, I don't think anyone else can help me with this. It
has to be you."
Abigail took some time to consider her words, before the answer came. "I see." She studied Ellie with shrewd consideration. "Perhaps I should make an exception in this case then. After all, you are still very new here. It may be that you require a lesson in Coven protocol. But know this, you are being greatly honoured. I trust you appreciate that." She attempted a smile, but it was one that left her eyes untouched. "Won't you come this way and we will speak of these matters in more comfort?"
As Ellie followed behind the Head of the White Coven, the other witches could only look on in utter consternation.
History was being made in that moment.
Because, as each of them knew from their own studies and teaching, never before had a witch of any other colour been allowed to enter into their House.
To do so was punishable by death.
Beth had returned to talk to Ellie again. She was taking advantage of her temporary freedom so that she could convince or trick Ellie into revealing the plans of the Black Coven. Or at least that's what Abigail had in mind.
But Ellie was out according to the boy who called himself John.
He was obviously some kind of mini-butler, thought Beth and began to giggle at the idea. She stood there on the porch of the old house, a beaming smile on her face and then all at once she began to cry. Tears streamed down over her cheeks and she held herself tightly, rocked gently from side to side.
It had all become too much to bear, her life a parody of what it used to be.
"Beth?"
She turned around very slowly, her eyes
