Crystal hadn't moved from where she sat comfortably. "We're honored," she said to Astra. "But tell us how we've come to your attention."
Astra's sharp, dark eyes cut to where Crystal lounged. "Because it's my job."
That knowing look in Crystal's eyes seemed to solidify. Information collected, and now she knew something no one else did for certain.
"Ah," the older woman replied. "I wondered when you would come."
The women of The Lost Souls gave each other curious glances.
"Then you know why we're here," Astra's words were cryptic.
"Okay, so we don't know anything going on," Jen cut in. She had already moved to the edge of her seat like everyone else, except for Crystal. "Who are you?"
"I told you, I'm-"
"Astra Harding, yes," Jen said, her voice strong, her eyes intense, though with a hint of wariness that echoed everyone else's. "Butwhoare you? You're giving off...The Fates."
Astra stood straighter if it were possible. Her head tipped up the slightest, and her body took on the form of an army general. Before she answered with closed eyes, she raised her slender hands palms up as she whispered unheard words, all eyes on her moving mouth that was painted the darkest maroon. The world around them stilled. Each woman was held captive by invisible magic, tongues pressed down, and throats closed off to words or sound. They felt the veil of magic around them pause, then become cold as her eyes opened. Everyone watched in various degrees of awe and horror as she spoke.
"We are part of The Grand Coven. We are sent to places that have deep pockets of magic, which are abused and used recklessly. We are the keepers of our lineage, and we fight to keep our secrets." Her words were clear, cutting. Her eyes touched each of them like an accusation. "When we show up, you have passed warning."
They could not speak. They were held there as her audience. She the intruder who had taken over their safe and magical space, taking the magic and holding it against them. Even the peach tree stood frozen, the cool air not rustling the leaves.
"Magic is not a game. And you will bring an awareness of our kind to people who would see us burn. We will be watching. Consequences for carelessness are dire."
She and her comrades in unison looked at each woman before she dropped her hands, and they walked away.
Their steps were perfectly timed together. They looked as though they moved as one. The moment they rounded the house, the magic released them, and the women in satin let out breaths and coughs, testing their voices and running hands over chilled skin.
"What the hell was that?" Jen coughed out the question they all had.
All but perhaps Crystal. And when they turned their curiosity to the older woman, they saw in her clear eyes a trepidation never before seen on her face.
"That," she said, a wrinkle formed on her usually carefree and smooth skin, "was the ambassador to The Grand Coven. The Coven that keeps all covens in check."
A presence of fear was left behind; they looked around as a ghostly chill slid over their summer-heated skin, asking Crystal questions and receiving paper-thin answers. And there was a feeling of unsettled anger at the flimsy words, just under the surface, never quite making it above the horizon into spoken existence.
What had Crystal kept from them? And why?
The next morning, Tilly woke in her apartment and padded into the kitchen that felt like a sardine can compared to where shewould be spending her mornings soon at The Lost Souls. Still, no coffee lurked in her cabinet, so she threw on a green and navy polka dot dress and made her way to The Black Cat. As she was walking, she was also reading a book that had decided to take her mind hostage, which was a risky game for Tilly. Tilly didn't have the skill of mindful grace when she did things like simply walking. Adding in reading a novella that had mastered the art of a plot twist? Not her wisest move.
This was proven when she looked to her right when crossing the main street, and as her Mary Jane-clad foot touched the pavement, a shrill and terrifying horn burst through her literary bubble, causing her to scream, drop her book, and jump back onto the sidewalk like a scared cat.
"Holy-""You're supposed to look both ways."
Her face jerked to her left at the deep voice and then up up up until she saw Chief Landry standing a few feet from her, in his uniform and sipping from a pink Black Cat cup. Seeing the pink cup dwarfed in his hand brought a smile she tried to fight against.
"I did look," she argued instead.
"You looked to your right and then stepped. This is a two-way street. You need to look both ways."
"I am an adult, Chief. I do not need to be told how to cross a street."
He turned to her then and looked down at her. His dark eyes held hers for a second before he said, "And yet you almost got run over."
She put a hand on her hip and squared off with him. What was it about this man that brought out her bold self, which rarely made an appearance? She was gentle and kind, overwhelmingly so sometimes. But there was an itch he brought out in her.
"Well, I suppose that I don't need to worry about my safety since you seem to be everywhere." Her glare was a challenge.
