by Jen Stevens
A few people shouted out insults at the Quarters, insisting it was our fault a darkness was able to get through and poison the town. The mayor fought to keep them quiet, but his shouts and the slamming of his gavel only riled them up more. We were forced to sit and absorb the slew of verbal abuse that was flung our way until Silas lifted his hand to quiet them, and everyone stopped talking at once.
“Thank you, High Priest,” Mayor Douglas sighed. His face was covered in a shiny layer of sweat and had taken on the brightest shade of red I'd ever seen in a human's skin tone.
“We need answers, Silas,” Rayner shouted across the sea of faces. The crowd parted as he worked his way to the front until he was nearly standing on the stage with us.
“That's what we're here for,” Silas' bored tone responded.
“Yet, none of these boys have offered their explanations.” Rayner lifted his arm in our direction incredulously.
Still, the Quarters stayed quiet.
“Sit down, Rayner,” Mayor Douglas demanded, his usual cloak of calmness slowly coming undone.
“I'm sorry, Mayor, but I think I and everyone else agree that it's time for change,” Rayner's deep voice bellowed over the crowd when he turned to speak directly at them. “Our town and our coven deserve better.”
A few grunts of agreement encouraged him to continue. I attempted finding who they came from and fell short. At this point, after what just happened, any one of these people could have been working against us.
No one was to be trusted.
“We've allowed these families to capitalize on our fear. They've been given the highest ranks in our coven since its conception, received praise and gifts for doing a job that any one of us could do…”
A few audible gasps give him pause. He turned his shoulders to address his peers, his back facing us and Mayor Douglas.
“Am I wrong? Have we been convinced that our own abilities are that much less than those of young boys?”
“The Quarters were given their gifts from the gods themselves. You have no right to suggest you're their equal,” Mayor Douglas argued.
“Then what happened tonight? Why were their powers so weak, they couldn't handle a simple Mabon celebration? How long are we going to risk our lives by putting all of our trust into these families when they've shown us time and time again that they can no longer handle it?”
Rhyse shifted in his chair beside me, and Lux placed his hand on his arm to try to settle him. We were exhausted beyond belief, hardly able to keep our heads up. There was no way we'd be able to handle a brawl if Rhyse said the wrong thing while tensions were already high. Our coven was scared, and it was our fault. We just needed to hear them out and get some rest so we could figure out what the hell went wrong today.
“This isn't constructive. We're here to find out what happened,” my father piped in. I was surprised he'd allowed Rayner to go on as long as he had. He was usually the most protective over the Quarter name.
“What happened was we trusted your sons to keep us safe and they've failed us. A darkness was able to get through what should have been an impenetrable shield. At least, that's what you Quarters have always claimed.” Rayner's disdain was obvious in his tone. He never respected the Quarters—not since what he witnessed our grandfathers do to his family.
He had never been an issue until now. There were rumors floating around of an uprising for a few years. We brought it to our fathers’ attention in fear of the coven finding out that our powers were fading, and they blew it off, refusing to believe anyone would go against us. Now, it was clear what was happening, and Rayner appeared to be at the head of it. We couldn't make it obvious that we felt threatened by them, though. That would only fuel their fire.
“The Quarter shield is stronger than any sort of protection spell you could attempt to cast. You have no right speaking against us when it is our protection that has ensured your safety and comfort while practicing whatever magic it is you've taken up to these days. You'd be smart to remember your place.” My father's patience was wearing thin.
“I'm speaking as a concerned member of this coven. What ever happened to this being a democracy? Or are we not allowed to speak against our leaders when they've wronged us?”
“We never wronged you,” Rhyse answered. His cheeks were now the same dark shade of red as the blood vessels that were glowing in the whites of his eyes.
“Then what would you call your little blunder?” Rayner taunted, a cocky smile turning up on his lips.
He'd finally gotten what he wanted all along: a reaction from one of us.
Lux attempted to calm Rhyse once again, but it was no use. This whole meeting was going nowhere.
“I'd call it sabotage. Someone broke the bylaws and was practicing dark magic within our shield. If anyone should be up here answering to the coven, it should be those who are actively working against us.”
A few people gasped and Rayner rolled his eyes with a condescending chuckle. “I don't know what you're alluding to.”
“Okay, that's enough,” Mayor Douglas cut in before Rhyse could retort. A sigh of relief was heard across the entire crowd. “This meeting was organized to find answers, though that doesn't appear to be happening anymore. I think our High Priest would agree that we could use some rest before we continue this conversation any further.” He looked to Silas for confirmation and received a stiff nod.
Typically, Mayor Douglas didn't take the lead on coven business, but the damage to the town and the danger it posed to the tourists gave him some authority over the situation. Still, Silas' silence throughout the whole conversation was suspicious.
We didn't have time to dwell on it. As the coven filtered out of the balmy room from the back, we were ushered off the stage and guided through a side entrance.
“It's just not worth the risk,” Mayor Douglas explained, gesturing toward the crowd he had failed to control.
Chapter 13
Remy
Our fathers’ silence at the Watchtower meeting was a false indication of their true feelings toward how the night went. While the nightmare was over for the rest of the coven and they were free to head back to their homes to rest and recover, they had a different agenda planned for us.
Rhyse, Enzo, Lux, and I were immediately taken from the community center to a black Suburban and driven to the Forbes estate.
“What the hell just happened?” Rhyse hissed once the back door was closed on us, his voice breaking the thick tension that coated the darkness surrounding us.
“They're going to come for us,” Enzo's suspicious voice added.
“We don't know that,” Lux defended, ever the optimist.
“Wake up, Lux. If these bastards aren't successful ripping our power away from us, The Movement will finish the job. We're fucked. Did you see my dad's face?” Rhyse's panic was growing with each mile that took us closer to his home.
“Who do we think is responsible for what happened?” I asked in an attempt to redirect the conversation.
“Who knows? It could be anyone.” Enzo breathed, glancing at the driver in distrust. He was right. This conversation couldn't happen until we were sure we couldn't be heard.
“We almost got trapped in the underworld. Do you think they knew we were there?” Lux whispered.
“I don't know anything anymore,” I answered honestly.
Three grunts of agreement sounded in the dark, then the conversation was cut off by the car shifting to park and the doors whipping open, revealing my father's disappointed face.
“Come with me, boys.”
Boys. I hated how smug he looked saying that. As if we weren't all fully grown men who'd taken over our Quarter roles years ago and managed to get along just fine.
I despised how much our fathers loved to see us fail. How they salivated at the possibility of us having less power than they did. At the thought that they were still needed as Quarters for the coven.
We followed him in silence, each of us refusing to give in to t
he fatigue we were feeling from the past twelve hours and show any weakness. I already knew we would be meeting in Silas' study. It was where all private Quarter business was handled. We'd walked these halls hundreds of times, but never with such looming dread.
Silas was the first to speak once the door was tightly closed. He was perched behind his large, black marble desk, looking completely relaxed. The rest of the elders took their seats in the plush, red leather chairs pushed against the wall behind the uncomfortable wood ones we were guided into.
“You know why we've called you here.”
“Someone is obviously trying to make us look incapable to the rest of the–” Rhyse began. He was cut off by Silas' raised finger.
“You were warned. If you couldn't handle the magic of Mabon, you should have come to us.”
“It's not that we couldn't handle it. Someone was practicing black magic within the shield,” Rhyse defended.
“That's beside the point,” my father dismissed, waving his hand in the air.
“How? Even the most skilled Quarter would struggle with being blindsided by their own coven.” This time, it was Lux's soft voice that piped in.
“Your sole purpose as a Quarter is to provide protection to the members of your coven. To offer your own element as a magic source for them to strengthen their spellcasting.”
“And that's what we did. Until the darkness took over and pushed us out,” Enzo finally spoke. His usual deep tone was heightened with emotion.
“Mind your manners, Lorenzo,” his father reprimanded from the side of the room, and Enzo shriveled into his seat.
“You should have admitted that we needed to step in. We're not even sure how you managed to keep the shield intact as long as you did,” Silas admitted.
Good. That meant they had no idea that I was able to draw power from the underworld and share it with the others.
“Are you saying you think you'd be more equipped to ward off the darkness? Do you have some sort of special powers we aren't aware of?” Rhyse's hands went up into the air incredulously. He was now sitting at the edge of his seat, nearly nose to nose with his father.
He shouldn't have accused them of such a crime. Keeping powers from future Quarters was a grave offense in our bylaws. They were required to share every ounce of information they had with us when they passed on the gift.
We knew they were keeping the Book of Shadows and any content that might help them reverse the shift in power hidden, but we didn't want them to know we were on to them. Not until we had concrete proof.
An accusation like that without the evidence to back it up would have us all burned immediately. I shot Rhyse a warning glare, internally screaming for him to stand down.
“Of course not. I'm saying it was irresponsible to put the rest of your coven in such danger when you knew you needed help. You're lucky enough to have us available to you as resources. Use. Us.”
When no one bothered responding, Silas cleared his throat. He folded his pale hands on the desk and leaned forward.
“We're not allowing another mishap like this. We'll discuss Samhain when it gets closer, but any Quarter business that involves magic will be handled by us until then. And we will begin training with you again as soon as possible. Clearly, you've still got much to learn.”
The atmosphere in the room changed immediately. They expected a strong reaction to his condescending words—that much was clear by the way the three behind us stood abruptly from their chairs, legs spread and arms widened in a defensive stance. Silas remained seated at his desk, his dark eyes boring into his son's in a challenge. I turned and found the same look in my father's eyes.
They hadn't just expected a reaction, they wanted one. They were desperate for any excuse to fully strip us of our magic and had resorted to setting us up.
But when I looked at Rhyse, he was locked in with Lux, who was silently pleading with him to stay quiet the same way I had before. Enzo was equally confused, waiting for someone else to make a move. After what felt like an eternity, Rhyse nodded once at Lux, and the anxiety swarming around the room dropped to the floor.
“Fine,” he said to his father, who couldn't seem to hide his bewilderment behind the usual passive stare that masked his face.
“Okay, then. You're free to go.” Silas stumbled over his words a bit. He finally stood from his chair to bid us goodbye. “Rest up. We'll be starting work on you boys first thing tomorrow.”
On the way out, Enzo tried whispering his concerns to us, but we quickly shut him down. We couldn't have this conversation yet.
Disaster ensues just one day into the coveted festival ceremony, leaving locals and tourists wondering: what the heck happened?
An eerie feeling. A loud boom. Screams of horror. Panic in the streets. These are just a few things festival patrons experienced as we kicked-off our eight-day celebration of the Autumnal Equinox.
The Beacon Grove community has now come together to clean up the aftermath of what appears to have been a breach in the Quarter shield. Locals are left in the dark as Mayor Mike Douglas and Watchtower coven High Priest, Silas Forbes, refuse to offer any insight to our staff here at The Beacon for how they plan to proceed with the rest of the event.
In last night's emergency town meeting, Rayner Whittle insisted the Quarter families were responsible for the disruption and has maintained his political stance against them. Mayor Douglas ended the meeting abruptly with no concrete plans.
"Whatever happened, it was a horrifying way to begin what was supposed to be one of our best years yet," Watchtower Tavern owner, Lisa Golden, commented. Golden says Mabon and Samhain are her most profitable times of the year, making up about twenty-five percent of her income.
But the Watchtower Tavern isn't the only local business suffering. Tabitha Granger at the Compass Hotel has confirmed that nearly fifty percent of her guests have checked out early.
Without the foot traffic from tourists, business owners are left wondering if the celebration will be cancelled altogether, and if so, how they'll manage to make ends meet.
The Beacon will continue to provide the most accurate and up to date news regarding this tragic event.
Chapter 14
Storie
When I awoke, I was alone in Blaire's room. The morning sun shone through the window beside her bed, brushing the walls in a tangerine-peach tint. I must have been out for at least a few hours, though it felt as if I'd only blinked and the sky had transitioned from the dead of night into morning.
Pots and pans clanged in the kitchen across the hallway. I heard hushed, irritated conversation in between the violent bangs. Whoever was making such a ruckus clearly wasn't happy.
“Oh, you're up!” Blaire entered the room with a smile and a glass of water. “I figured you could use this.”
“What time is it?” my morning voice croaked, and I realized how dry my throat had been. I took the glass from her hands gratefully.
“Eight o'clock. You've been out for a while.”
“What happened last night?”
When I think back on it, none of it seemed realistic. The spooky chanting, the loud bangs, the panicked crowd. Whatever ritual Tabitha, Calista, and Blaire did afterward. I was almost convinced I'd imagined it all. At least, until Blaire's cheery expression faltered, and her eyes fell to wringing hands.
“We're not really sure. What did you see before you went out?”
I tried to recall the last few moments prior to everything going black but could only remember the furious ocean waves being so close, I could practically feel them spraying me. I wasn't ready to share that part with anyone until I figured it out myself.
“I can't remember,” I admitted, only half lying.
“Well, you looked terrified.”
“Blaire! I still need your help!” Tabitha called out, annoyance lacing her tone. She must have been the one making all the noise.
Blaire rolled her eyes. “We made breakfast. You should come eat when you feel up to it,”
she said, then turned and walked out of her room.
I chugged my water and peeled myself from the bed. The idea of facing Tabitha's ornery attitude didn't sound very appealing, but I felt odd sitting in Blaire's bed while they moved around the kitchen. Heavy, sluggish legs dragged me toward where all the noise was coming from, and my nose filled with the aroma of cinnamon and butter. Someone had made French toast. My stomach gurgled at the sight of them, begging to be fed.
“Sit. Eat,” Tabitha demanded. I didn't bother arguing.
She didn't bring up last night or try to ask me what happened the way Blaire had. She just plopped herself down in the chair across from me and read the morning paper while I shoveled food into my mouth and Blaire stood at the sink, quietly humming while she washed the dishes.
The headline of her newspaper was printed in thick, black ink.
Mabon Chaos Ensues, Injuring Many: Are We Still Safe?
So many questions bounced on my tongue, begging to be asked. It felt like every day I spent in Beacon Grove only created more mystery around my family, their departure from the town, and their deaths.
Tabitha knew more than she was willing to share with me. She had even gone as far as preventing someone else from spilling too much. The old woman from the festival was obviously out of her mind, but Tabitha felt threatened enough by her to physically assault me and prevent me from hearing what she had to say.
And how did she know something would happen to me during the incantation they practiced? Why hadn't she wanted me a part of it?
Nothing made sense anymore, but she was the one person always standing at the center of my confusion.
Blaire excused herself when someone rang the bell impatiently in the office. Tabitha still hadn't bothered looking up at me, so I spent the rest of my meal taking in every detail of their outdated kitchen. It felt so similar to the one I grew up in with drying herbs strung up across the cabinets and cinnamon sticks hanging in each window. It wasn't the first time since I drove into Beacon Grove that I was overtaken with a sense of being home again.
