Chapter 8
Ebony didn’t scream. She didn’t have to. She knew where she was going and just let the fear ride through her like a wave on its way to the shore. She dropped through the circle, as if it were a glowing tunnel through the center of the earth… quite possibly because that’s exactly what it was.
Witches used several ways to transport themselves – not just cars, trains, feet, and all those other mundane forms of locomotion. Witches had several more tricks up their sleeves. While site-to-site transport was something you were more likely to see in a sci-fi, there were other ways to get someone from A to B without having to fork out a couple of bucks for a bus ticket.
The circle of light she was now breathlessly hurtling through was just such a way. A witch would create a magical symbol at the intended destination, careful to write down all the right runes along its circumference, in case the transporter accidentally turned into an incinerator. Then, at the location you were trying to transport to, you would draw another magical circle. While an ordinary witch couldn’t do it, if enough powerful witches gathered in one spot, they could use their combined magical force to write a circle anywhere, without being physically present.
The two magical circles would connect, temporarily emptying out the space in between, whether it be earth, building, sky, or forest – and create a perfectly straight, perfectly neat tube. The witch or the intended target for the transport, would hurtle along the magical tube at fantastic speeds to her destination.
Witches rarely used this type of locomotion because, not surprisingly, it messed up their hair.
As Ebony spun further down through the earth, the strata of assorted colored dirt flicking past like lines on a motorway, she tried not to scream.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, she thought instead. What are they going to do to me?
In a snap, she arrived at her destination.
She emerged from the roof of some kind of underground cavern and headed straight for the ground at literally break-neck speed. Instead, of crashing into the rock-hard ground, a magical circle on the floor sent out a wave of energy to slow her velocity. It wasn’t like falling onto a pillow, or candy floss, or any other appreciably soft surface. It was more like having the acceleration literally sucked out of her. It was as if the magic was hard at work flowing through Ebony, convincing every one of her constituent particles they weren’t in motion at all – they were as still and safe as an undisturbed tree.
Ebony drifted down toward the ground, touching it like nothing heavier than a mote of dust.
She righted herself, ignoring the blood dripping from her arm, as she stood to attention like a trained soldier.
Though her body still shook with the surprise of being sucked through the earth and the residual adrenaline of her fight, Ebony tried to remain as still as she could.
The cavern was dark and, as the light from the landing circle ebbed away, it became only darker. That didn’t stop her from seeing. A witch learns very early on in her career there are certain things that can be seen in the dark, and be seen very clearly. Humans mistakenly believe you need light for the eyes to function and thus see, but they’ve forgotten some of their very own sayings. Because wasn’t it true that you could also see with your mind’s eye? And couldn’t you see into the future? Couldn’t you also see when things weren’t going to end well?
From Ebony’s landing spot, she began to see nine dark figures walk toward her. They were dressed in nothing, but could hardly be referred to as naked. If being nude meant you lacked something – be it clothes, dignity, or warmth – then you couldn’t use that to describe these women. They lacked nothing at all. Each and every one of them brimmed with enough magic to consume a city. But it wasn’t purposeless, directionless magic. It was refined, determined.
That’s why they all seemed so complete, Ebony knew, because they were. With the refined magic brimming through their forms, minds and souls – these women had completed their Rites and had written their full stories of life. Each one was their own novel, their own epic narrative and each complete without another word to be written.
They were power written into forms, contained in bodies.
They were also the Coven.
“You are before the Coven,” one said, her head tilting imperiously to the side, “Ebony Elizabeth Bell.”
Ebony dejectedly clutched a hand to her bleeding arm, feeling the wet blood slick through her fingers. She could feel her heartbeat beneath, rattling through her skin with a strong flighty shake.
She didn’t reply. She couldn’t – she hadn’t been asked a direct question.
“You are here to answer to the Coven,” another witch said, her long silver hair furling around her like a cloak.
“You have resisted your duty,” another witch spoke. This time Ebony knew the voice. It was her mother, and the words she spoke had a shake of emotion the rest of the Coven didn’t share. “And you have been careless.”
Ebony took another steadying breath, incapable of controlling how it shook through her chest. It came out in nervous puffs, like someone was at her throat, trying to find out what was inside by shaking it.
“You have breached a sacred rule. You have revealed your identity to a mundane,” the witch with long silver hair remained still, but her voice grew louder as if she’d walked straight up to Ebony’s ear.
Ebony’s eyes widened. What? They were bringing her to charge for revealing she was a witch to a mundane? Surely, there were mitigating circumstances! She’d just saved that woman’s life.
“There are mitigating circumstances,” one of the witches conceded, “Which we have already taken into account.”
Ebony let out a sudden tortured sigh that punctuated the air like a bullet in a library. She couldn’t believe this. She’d done everything she could in that crypt, everything humanly possible. How was she to know he’d kidnapped someone?
Yes, she may have broken the rules. But she didn’t do it based on a whim, she did it to protect—
“But the fact remains,” a witch with a crackly voice said, “That you revealed your true nature to a non-magical human.”
“Such an event is unacceptable,” her mother spoke again, her voice still a pitch above everyone else’s. If Ebony was any expert, and she was when it came to her mother, Avery Bell was viciously angry.
Why wouldn’t she be? Her own daughter had been brought up before the Coven for punishment – one of the greatest insults a witch could receive. And though the blame would rest squarely on Ebony’s shoulders, that wouldn’t stop her mother from blaming herself. It was the mother’s role, after all, to teach her little witch the ways of magic.
Ebony closed her eyes, feeling the pressure of her pain, shame, and fear well like a balloon inside her. It pressed out at her skin like prisoners trying to escape a jail.
“You have flaunted a rule and must pay the price,” the gray-haired witch declared.
Ebony stopped herself from screaming back that this wasn’t fair. The rule was there to stop witches from strutting down the street and blowing rubbish bins up in front of old ladies. They were there to keep magic hidden. But when the circumstances determined it, a witch could reveal her true nature, if lives were at stake. And lives had been at stake. Ebony hadn’t done anything wrong, none of this was fair!
“We have decided you are punishable for this deed. And our decision will stand,” the crackly-voiced witch seemed to grate through her words like rusted-iron smashing together in a strong wind.
Ebony bit hard into her lips, half to chase away the pain in her arm and half to stop herself from speaking. She knew the rules of the Coven.
She clutched her bleeding arm tighter, her head becoming lighter with every heartbeat. Magic was forbidden in the presence of the Coven, so Ebony would simply have to hold onto her wound until she was allowed to leave. If she was allowed to leave, that was.
She shuddered, sharp nausea blasting through her. She rocked backward, but managed to keep her balance.
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If the other witches noticed her rapidly deteriorating state, they weren’t letting on. They weren’t about to speed up this meeting for anything as mundane as serious blood loss.
“We have taken your situation into account,” the gray-haired woman said, her voice trailing off. “Your punishment will be submitting to magical restrictions, for the period of one lunar month.”
Oh no. Ebony almost let her hand fall from her bleeding shoulder.
What kind of restrictions?
“All external performances of magic will be restricted.”
Ebony put a hand up to her lips.
“For one lunar month, you will live as the non-magical do – you will not be able to summon, cast, curse, hex, or bless,” the crackly-voiced witch rattled off the list quickly.
“You will live as a normal, in punishment for not being able to keep your magical side hidden,” her mother said, her voice bottoming out from its once high pitch. “It is hoped that such an experience will give you the understanding to try harder next time.”
Ebony rocked on her feet. She couldn’t believe this… she just….
“You will find, I fancy,” the gray-haired witch tipped her head to the side, “What the important things in life are when you realize you do not have your magic to protect them.”
Ebony didn’t respond, she couldn’t… she was beginning to feel numb anyway – her hands, her fingers, her heart.
“Once the period of a lunar month is complete, your magic will return, and your lesson will be complete.”
Ebony opened her mouth, her lips as heavy as anvils. Though the situation was perilous, and she shouldn’t make it worse by speaking out of turn, she had to know one thing—
Before she could push the words out of her sore and tight throat, her mother cut in. “Your work with the police force will be unaffected. We will send a replacement. It will be up to the police whether they allow you to retain your position for this month, as a normal.”
The word normal rang in Ebony’s ears like a bell. Louder and clearer than anything else that had been said so far.
“You will go now,” her mother said, “To begin your punishment.”
The gray-haired witch suddenly stepped forward, two golden bracelets and a choker appearing in her hands. They were plain, but Ebony knew the inside edges were engraved with precise, powerful symbols.
The woman clicked her fingers and, in a flash, the bracelets snapped around Ebony’s wrists and the choker appeared about her neck.
They weren’t tight enough to cut off her circulation, but they would be impossible to get off.
“We will inform the department as to your punishment,” the crackly-voiced witch said through a breath. “And furnish them with their replacement immediately.”
“You will go now,” her mother said. Though it was probably Ebony’s imagination, she fancied her mother’s eyes were hooded with something other than shame and anger. “You will be sure to seek medical attention,” she added forcefully.
Ebony had just enough humor left somewhere in her to offer a snort. Though her mother had just sentenced Ebony to a month of being at the whims of reality, she was still a mother. And Avery Bell wasn’t about to let her only daughter bleed to death.
“Go now,” said the gray-haired witch with finality, “And experience a month of normal life. Experience the fear, uncertainty and helplessness with which a life can be rewritten – and overcome it. With this new appreciation, you will better fulfil your sacred task as a witch of Vale.”
The circle of light that had signaled Ebony’s landing barely fifteen minutes before opened up again. The portal appeared above Ebony, and she had a fleeting glance of her mother’s face before being transported away.
With the nausea, fear, shame, and the horrid prospect of a month without magic dawning on Ebony, the final portal opened above. With a sound like someone plunging a drain, she erupted out of the floor of the crypt. Her landing was soft, but sudden enough to send her head reeling.
The crypt was now alight with activity, bodies, and movement. Thankfully, the bodies were alive and very much police.
Someone had set up a light. It was all the better to see the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces as she sprang from the ground, as if she was simply too unpalatable for the earth to swallow.
“Ebony!” Ben raced over to her. “I just got the call from the Coven.” He had his phone in his hands.
Two hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her gently to her feet.
They weren’t Ben’s hands, Ebony realized, mind slowing down with every second. Ben had a mobile in his hands and he was standing… over there.
With her blinks slowing and her mind grinding to a stop, she realized who had pulled her up. It was Nate. He wore an expression she’d never seen. It reminded her of the time her father had gotten home to find Ebony’s mother at the center of a messy magical explosion. It was pressed, tight, wild… caring.
“Ebony,” someone said. “Hey, get a hold of yourself; you’re bleeding everywhere. Use your magic to heal yourself—”
She replied by lurching forward and throwing up all over the flattened tie of a certain Detective Nate.
She didn’t have the time to track his expression, humorous though it would’ve been. She fell forward and into the arms of unconsciousness.
Witch's Bell Book One Page 8
