There was a story in between, but they didn't have the time and the important part was years later when Crystal became the Grand Coven Priestess.
"I quite liked the title, and I can admit that now," she said, clearly back in that time. "It was meant to be a coven that helped maintain balance in the world, helped create a bridge between this world and ours. Rule and order. Celebrations and bringing in the seasons together with our magic and gratitude. But there were some who believed we needed more control. They were small and few, only the idea of their theology a one-off amongst the many. Until," she paused, shaking her head. They watched as her blue eyes clouded, a memory of pain taking hold. "There was an entire movement. Enough of them with the right witch leading the charge to challenge how we did things. They believed that our population should be fewer, easier to control, less power, less magic. That no place in the world should have too many of us living together. They had a great leader. As powerful as me." Her eyebrows raised when she added, "More powerful because they slowly, silently took power from others. And they formed what it is now."
"The Covenant," Jen said, and Crystal nodded. "Their leader, the priestess, was your best friend."
It was a guess, but she had said something before that had lingered in her mind. Anyone who had experienced great betrayal picked up on the energy left behind.
"Margaret Lowell," Crystal answered. "We could talk for hours about nothing and everything. Friendship truly is one of the most romantic things you can experience. But she fell in love with a witch, one who came from a line of witches who had a history of twisting magic to their will, ripping it from its roots and forced to grow how and where they wanted."
"Dark magic," Tilly whispered, afraid of its power.
"Dark magic. Of course, Margaret said her lover never dabbled in it herself. Dark magic, when caught being used, had a high price, one she wasn't willing to pay. However, her ideology was the thing that was twisted. She got inside of Margaret and got her to believe that witches were meant to exist at the service of The Holly King and The Oak King. That they were the true heads of magic, ushering in our seasons with their power. The lore is long and it is believed differently depending on who you ask. Different points of importance, different goals and hopes, different rules."
They listened, understanding this kind of abuse of belief into power.
A small raccoon that had taken a particular liking to Carol popped out of the hood of her jacket, pulling a smile from Eloise as she offered him a grape.
"They took what was once beautiful about being a witch, the freedom and magic created between us and the world. They twisted it into something to be controlled and placed at the feet of powerful men."
"And Margaret is still the priestess?" Kelsea asked.
"Yes."
"You said before that you think the three from The Covenant are here because there are too many of us in one place," Carol said thoughtfully. She was tapping one finger on the rim of her glass. "How do we get them to leave?"
Crystal tipped her face up to the the black sky. The moon was hiding herself from them but there was a power still there that they could feel. Once she had taken a few moments, a few breaths, she looked at the seven faces around the graveyard, only illuminated by the jars of glowing moonlight sitting around the circle.
"I don't know. I wish that I did.""You saidwas," Bess had her sweatshirt-covered arms wrapped around her knees, hugged to her chest and the hood up warding off the autumn chill in July.
Ursula laid a hand on her arm. "What do you mean, sweetheart?"
But where everyone was giving Bess curious looks, waiting for her to finish her thought, Crystal was giving her a knowing look.
"I did," was Crystal's simple reply.
"What are you talking about?" This came from Tilly who rolled a piece of mint between her lips.
Every head swung to the older woman, who they now knew was indeed old.
"My magic, when Margaret usurped me, was bound. I do not have magic." She smiled a little smile. "Or much. The land here lends itself to me when most needed. Mostly for special invitations to certain women that the magic of the world recognizes." Her eyes connected with Ursula and then Tilly.
Ursula was taken back to her Midwest home with her rusted mailbox and empty life.
Tilly remembered the closet and the sparkling blueberry festival invite.
"Why didn't you tell us? We could have-"
But Crystal cut off Tilly. "What, dear? What could you have done?"
The helplessness of that question filled enough space that they all, for a few moments, felt alone and not at all like they were a coven sitting in a circle facing other women with magic in their bones.
Loneliness was such a powerful thing. Add in helplessness and anyone who could forge the two and place them like a mantle over a group of people held a power that could seem unbreakable.
But that was the trick. It only seemed that way.
Getting lost in helplessness makes a person first feel and then believe that they can do nothing to alter their circumstances. It is often the precursor to loneliness, which is a powerful poison. It creeps into the veins and spreads the lies that they are unlike others, unwanted by others, and all alone.
But the truth is this: one moment of recognizing that you are not alone; without connection, perhaps, but not without company as there is a world full of beings that are looking around for the same things as you.
