It was hope.
It was about them, about what they believed in, what they cared about, who they cared about. Their hope was power.
Two ways to fight conflict: "When you go low, I will go lower," or "when you go low, I will rise above," and what if they could combine the two?
If you go low, I will push you lower by rising above.
I will drag you to hell with the power of good.
"What's going on here?" Eloise asked as she and Tilly joined the bonfire crew. The silence was thick. The feeling of despair was loud. Eloise could smell wilting roses and bad truck-stop coffee. Tilly heard that familiar voice saying, "Did you miss me? I learned a few things while I was gone."
The pit in her stomach was gaping, and her mind suddenly was busy. She told her mind to be quiet.
"They called for a vote to pull Cora," Jen said, her eyes not moving from the trance of the moving flames. She had a glass of something clear in her hand. She took a sip from it. "And the people spoke. She's out."
"Ohmygod," Tilly's disbelief was loud. She shook her head against the voices competing inside of her.
"Is Rob," Eloise looked uncertainly to Ursula, "Is he the mayor now? And how? People saw who he was."
"Not yet. But, only a matter of time." Carol replied. She, too, had a glass in her hand. This one with whiskey. "Propaganda is a powerful drug," she said like a true journalist.
"I'll give him props. The man knows how to convince the mediocre mind that their problems lay in the hands of a bunch of women rather than the truth." Jen smiled humorlessly.
"How is Cora?" Ursula asked then winced. "Dumb question."
Jen shook her head. Her hair was in long intricate braids hanging to just below her chest, the ends a striking silver. "Not dumb. She's devastated. But I also know she will rally."
And that there was one of the secrets of women - they learn the ways in which each other takes on detrimental pain and disappointment, and what their character will end up doing by the end of it all.
"How was our friend?" Crystal asked, looking to Eloise and Tilly.
"Actually," they looked at each other, silently communicating before they turned back to the group and scooted their chairs closer. A pop and a sparkle of the fire, as hope acted like a chemical reaction.
Once they confirmed Tilly's suspicion that the three had been wielding dark magic, Crystal sat back thinking. She thought of an old friend whom she once trusted and who had used that trust to take everything from her. She thought of the way that Margaret had spoken passionately about control and pure magic, and the night that her words turned dangerous.
She had been Crystal's confidant, her right hand of The Covenant. But what she spoke of twisted the roots of magic,made it out of reach for some, and glorified a kind of cleansing that would only reward certain witches.
She remembered looking at her friend over the fire and wondering what had turned, when her beliefs had gone from seeds to what she finally saw were full plants above ground.
The betrayal had been the sharpest pain. A group of witches came for Crystal's position. A ceremony of darkness and a silent night with no stars and no moon to witness the betrayal.
But as she walked through those painful memories silently, as the women around her talked and planned, she wondered...
Could betrayal have found her old friend's door?
The flames turned turquoise in the pit as words were delivered, a breath of something lighter than doom ribboned between them, and then they hunkered down for a plan.
This wasn't like trying to trap a murderous, dark magic-wielding witch trying to take The Lost Souls House.
This was like trying to turn the tide.
They knew that they would need the moon's permission, her gentle but deceptively strong influence.
Women could be like this - you look at their beauty, their glow, the way that they come and go in cycles and assume their influence is minor.
She's alluring, mysterious, yes.
But oh, she can remind us of her power by the rising temperatures of the ocean by mere half degrees, until the tide is pulling harshly, and then violently, ripping the edges of the earth apart, scattering souls and causing terror.
