by Mark Hockley
chance.
Now, left to do some general housework; dusting and window washing, her favourites, she was trying to listen in on the conversations between the various witches who were milling about.
Words such as 'rebellion' and 'punishment' were the most common and Beth came to realise that there had been some kind of incident during the night. She couldn't find out any specific details, but what she really needed to know was whether Zack had been involved. She was very afraid for him.
And she knew him well enough to know that once he believed something was unjust he wouldn't just sit on the sidelines and watch. Beth supposed she ought to be concerned for Luke too, but the boy had been acting very strangely and she doubted he would have been part of it whatever had happened anyway.
But how was she going to find out anything. None of these women would give her the time of day.
Because her mind was distracted and she was worrying about Zack, she found herself standing absently, duster in hand, staring at a portrait of a black cloaked witch. She hadn't realised she was doing it until she felt a sharp pain on the side of her face. Wheeling around and dropping the cloth, she was faced by the nose from hell.
"No slacking," the witch chastised, looming over her. Her body was as thin and spindly as her nose Beth decided, her expression one of muted fury. "And do not look at me like that either." The woman raised her hand again as if to strike her and the girl stepped backwards ready to take evasive action.
"Are you having difficulties, Allison?" a voice enquired.
The witch turned abruptly, something akin to embarrassment passing briefly over her features, but she soon schooled herself to give a look of pleasant affability. "Not at all, Margaret. I am merely teaching this girl what we expect of her here. Her time in the White Coven may have given her inappropriate notions about her role. The Whites are known to be lax in their discipline."
Margaret glanced from Beth to the woman. She had come through the main doors from outside the Coven House and looked weary and dishevelled as if she not slept the previous night. "Indeed," she said coolly, smoothing her crinkled garments. "I will have to mention this to Abigail on your behalf. I would not wish The White Coven's reputation to suffer."
Allison's expression faltered at this and she blustered a little. "No, Margaret, please do not misunderstand me." She reached for the correct words and her eyes fell upon Beth as she did so. The girl saw in that momentarily look a terrible malice. She knew without question that she had made a very definite enemy and she had no idea how she had managed it.
"Perhaps I have misunderstood, Allison. Perhaps. But do you not have more pressing responsibilities to attend to. This girl is rather unimportant don't you think? Particularly in the current circumstances."
The other witch gave a slight bow and smiled demurely. "Of course. I apologise. I will take your leave if I may."
"You may," Margaret allowed and watched her walk away, the woman's stride purposeful and to Beth's eyes, a bit stroppy. But now she was alone with Margaret and in some ways she almost preferred the sharp nosed bully. It was a close call. "Interesting painting," Margaret observed, nodding at the portrait Beth had inadvertently found herself in front of.
"I wasn't really looking at it," the girl said, keeping her voice neutral.
"Really?" the witch remarked. "Perhaps you should. Your friend has gone to a great deal of effort to secure your place here. It might be in your best interest to learn about our history. Ellie of the Black Coven," she said this with very deliberate intent, "may be destined for great things in this House. If you hope to remain one of us, in whatever humble capacity, you would be wise to offer your full and undiluted loyalty."
"I am loyal to Ellie," Beth shot back, without really considering her words.
Margaret gave a shallow smile. "And yet loyalty is such a fragile thing. Today's friend is tomorrow's inconvenience. Allegiances shift, bonds are rarely as sturdy as they seem. It is said that everyone has a price. But often the price is really very cheap."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Beth felt extremely uncomfortable under the woman's unnerving gaze.
"You came here as four. Now are you three? Two? Or just one? Where are you comrades now? They look after themselves. Even at your expense." Margaret's smile faded and her expression became one of casual menace. "Know your place in Witch Town, girl. Learn quickly. Here in the Black Coven you are mine to control, mine to use. And I will do so. Sooner or later I will do so."
32
I get to go to London. Really? And guess what? My buddies, Helen and Grace get to tag along. Crazy or what!?Margaret says we need to steal something from the Tower of London! No seriously, that's what I'm supposed to be doing. I know, I've finally slipped over the edge in La-la-land! Being a witch has its advantages I guess, but just now, I'm not sure what they are. And if we get caught, I'm pretty sure any trouble I thought I was in will seem small fry compared to where I will end up.
The idea was simple enough.
They would go into the Tower of London as tourists, take the guided tour, get into a place called St John's Chapel, hide until everyone had moved on and then work out where the secret entrance to an underground vault was.
That was the plan as outlined by Margaret during the night. A piece of cake obviously.
Although Ellie had not slept at all well and had experienced fitful dreams when she did, by the time dawn had arrived she had come to terms with some very difficult truths. In the pale light of the early morning, as she prepared to embark on this insane assault on one of England's most famous landmarks, Ellie mulled over the words she had exchanged with the elder witch.
"I know you have had thoughts of trying to find help for your friends," the old woman had spoken with a wry expression. The girl said nothing. "But you should know that it would prove to be a poor course of action on your part."
Ellie played it cool. "Why do you say that?"
"Because an edict has been agreed by each Coven that should you do so, upon the first sign of any attempt to invade our territory, each of your friends would be executed. Did it not occur to you that this might be the case?"
Her show of composure lost, Ellie fumbled for a response. "They...you, would do that?"
Margaret gave a low chuckle. "And why not? Any betrayal would be seen as unforgivable. You are a Mother. Never forget that. Your so-called friends are hostages to your reputation now. Rise and they will no doubt survive and prosper. Fall and they fall with you."
The girl thought this over for a time. "So why haven't you done this before, gone to the Tower, if you knew where this thing you want was all along?" Ellie asked, changing the subject. She understood that she had been naive to think it would be so easy to challenge the dominion of Witch Town and get her friends out. It seemed certain now that she would need to work from within to help them.
The elderly woman had acknowledged her with a studious nod. "There is a ward on the object we seek that means it cannot be handled by anyone born in Witch Town."
The girl was unconvinced by this explanation. "Why?"
"Because," Margaret informed her briskly, "there is a contract between the original Mothers of Witch Town and the Crown, a covenant to prevent us from challenging the status quo. It is this that prevents us from extending our influence beyond our borders. They feared us in the past and they fear us now. After Rebecca's death we were in disarray and many voices clamoured to be heard. The louder voices called for security above expansion. So a treaty was brokered between the witches and the representatives of the King."
"It's a Queen now," Ellie observed, but Margaret's steely countenance told her that she was not interested.
"King or Queen makes no difference. It is long past time that we took our rightful places in the world. It was always Rebecca's goal and I have waited all my life to see it come to fruition."
"So what are going to do with it if we get it, this document?"
Margaret smiled, a darkly humourless visage. "De
stroy it."
Walking out into the daylight, knowing the grisly spectacle that was in the town square, Zack wasn't sure how he should act or feel.
Leonie was waiting for him, but so were Allana and Luke. Were they really supposed to just carry on as if nothing had happened.
He eyed his friend, trying to work out how much he knew, but Luke's expression was sullen and he would not meet his eyes.
Leonie's face was flushed and every time she looked at him, it was as if some kind of electricity passed between them. He tried his best to not make it too obvious how desperate he was to be close to her, to touch her, but try as he might, he found himself always moving near to her, their arms brushing together, their gazes intense.
Allana gave them both several appraising looks that spoke of suspicious disapproval.
Zack knew it was best not to speak to Leonie about anything personal at that time and kept his conversation general and work related. Before long, he was busy watering and weeding plants while the two young woman sat together twenty yards away observing.
Luke laboured alongside him and Zack spoke to him in a whisper. "Do you know what happened last night?"
The other boy shrugged slightly as he continued with his appointed tasks. "The witches strung up some men up in the Town Square for being naughty. Does that cover it!?"
Zack almost stopped what he was doing to stare at his friend. "It's
