Hope that at least Stevie will still care about me and love me is the only thing holding me together right now. If I even dare to think about the regret and sadness written on Dax’s face from earlier tonight, I’ll spiral. I just need to get through tonight, answer the council’s questions, accept my punishment, and move on.
“Let’s go,” a voice barks beside the wrought iron bars of my cell. I look up and it’s the same man who accosted me outside of the restaurant.
For the first time in my life, I keep my sharp tongue locked down, rise to my feet, and walk to the bars. He unlocks them with a ridiculously large skeleton key that’s held on a ring with at least twenty other keys of different shapes and sizes. They jingle as he walks me to wherever we’re going. The jingle echoes in the halls of the stone we’re walking through. Almost like a taunting noise, like ‘ha, bitch, time to finally face the music’.
We walk through multiple narrow paths. It’s cold and clearly underground where we are. The man holds me by the elbow as he ushers me to a large open area. There’s still the same cobblestone floor, but the room is massive and there are stained glass windows at the top of the room, easily seventy feet high. The man places me on my knees on the hard, cold, uneven flooring. Damn, you can’t even get a chair during your sentencing?
There are three thrones in front of me and I already know who will come out before they do. I’ve met them before, not here but previously when I got my first two strikes.
The first woman walks in, Elizabeth the true. She appears to be in her early thirties, but you would be mistaken. She’s easily one of the oldest witches alive at nearly two thousand and ten. Her black hair is in a loose chignon, her pale face is makeup-less and challenging. Her face shows she doesn’t take shit, and she doesn’t know what smiling is. She’s petite, but terrifying.
The next witch is Hadiza, with no last name. She’s the most warm of the bunch in appearance, anyway. She at least smiles. Her skin is a dark brown, her hair in long braids reaching her waist. Her dress is bright orange and reads friendly, but I know better. Hadiza can be the most cruel with punishments out of the three.
Lastly, we have Nimue. If anyone is going to be on my side, it’s her. She drowned a few men in lakes back in the fifteenth century. If anyone will understand my need for revenge, she will. She still wears clothing that would be better suited for a Renaissance fair. Her dirty blonde hair reaches her butt with two long braids in the front.
All three of the witches take their respective places in front of me. In complete synchronization, they all cross their left leg over their right and look down on me.
Hadiza speaks first. “Blair Bellamy, it’s been quite some time. I was hoping you would heed our warning.”
Nimue speaks next. “She’s always been a firecracker, this one. Could you expect any less?”
“Endangering one of her own? Hurting someone in her own Coven, it’s just abysmal,” Elizabeth shrieks.
“Tell us, why did you kidnap and poison your fellow witch? In the process, also almost exposing us to a mere mortal?” Hadiza asks.
“It’s like these young witches don’t remember Valais, Trier, Pendle, or Salem. I’ll tell you, I do. Watching some of my sisters’ flesh burn at the stake. Look at you,” Elizabeth spits. “Not even loyal to your own kind, not recognizing what your ancestors sacrificed so you could live freely now. I say we execute.”
I glare at Elizabeth, the old coot. I remember the history of those trials, how witches didn’t fight back, how they let mostly mortals die at the stake for them. They killed very few actual witches during any of the most famous trials. Seems the witches quite like rewriting history.
“Now, now, Elizabeth, let her speak,” Nimue says.
I clear my throat, looking at Nimue as I speak. “There are two reasons why I kidnapped Clover and everything else that followed. The first started with her, my fellow witch sister, as you so kindly put, Elizabeth. Slept with my boyfriend.” I watch as Nimue grimaces at the mention of a boyfriend. “If that wasn’t enough, my entire coven tried to sacrifice me to be the vessel for a demon. That also doesn’t seem sisterly, does it, Elizabeth?”
“And how are you to be believed? Is there anyone who can account for this?”
“Yes, my cousin, Stevie.”
“Stevie Sutton?” Hadiza asks.
“Yes.”
“Summon her, August,” she tells the man in the corner. We sit and wait, all the witches glaring down at me.
It takes about twenty minutes, it’s then I realize August portaled here. The council has a demon on payroll?
Stevie’s wide eyes look around the room and stick to me, on my knees on the floor. Her expression reads one of ‘I told you so’, and ‘you dumb bitch’.
“Stevie Sutton?” Hadiza asks.
“Yes, high priestess.”
“Your cousin states that your coven tried to sacrifice her, is this correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“For what cause?”
“Josie thought the coven would be more powerful if Blair was out of the picture.”
