A select few were allowed to practice with Frederick’s permission, so it made sense that the black witches that were granted authorisation were all placed into one conveniently located coven. They were given a license, one that protected them from the primal and outdated rules.
Usually, Kyra would have been forced to join the coven whether she wanted to or not, because that was the only way she could practice the magic of her birth. Except, she couldn’t, not without the others figuring her secret. She was grateful for that at least. She could live alone, and have some sort of life as long as she did what she was told.
Like a pet.
“Hurry up,” Bane said, his brisk walk forcing her to jog up the drive.
The cottage was beautiful, with ivy wrapping itself around the old brick and the surrounding gardens full of life. The lounge beyond the front door was spacious before it branched out into a labyrinth of different doors, rooms and stairways. Fire crackled in the oversized hearth, the black cauldron that usually swung freely above nowhere to be seen. In fact, the room had been emptied of all the furniture, the armchairs, rugs and shelves gone, the scarred wooden surface etched with an elemental circle that spanned the entirety of the floor. In the centre there was an inverted pentagram, which usually consisted of a star within a circle. Except at each point of the star there were more circles, just big enough for someone to stand inside.
“Ah, there you are,” Frederick said as soon as she passed into the threshold, his expression impatient. “Where’s the package?”
Bane stretched forward. “Councilman,” he greeted with a gentle nod of his head. “She came through the north western travi-portal.”
“Portal? I’m surprised you would risk such arbitrary magic, Kyra,” Frederick said as he ripped the outer layer, upper lip lifted in disgust at the blackened vampire heart inside.
Usually when Vamps died the second time their bodies decomposed at an alarming rate. Bludrial had done something for the one wrapped in plastic to still be intact.
“Wild magic doesn’t obey to any law,” he continued. “It’s probably why your kin, Bane, are struggling so much to reopen the doorway to Far Side. It’s positively primitive compared to our magic.”
Frederick smirked, and Kyra ignored the heart when he held it out. “Can I speak to you… privately?” she added when Bane remained by their side.
Frederick handed the heart back to Bane before adjusting the sleeve on the velvet green jacket. “Speak.”
“I will never use my blood as payment. Do not offer it again.” She had kept her voice quiet, not wanting the coven to overhear considering blood was usually an acceptable trade, especially from a black witch.
Frederick’s expression remained hard. “Who do you think you're talking to?” he whispered back, pressing forward until his breath was an unwelcome warmth against her face. “It’s because of me that you’re not hunted down like a dog, that you’re not harvested for your body and sold at the same market you just visited.”
Kyra couldn’t stop her flinch.
“Or is that what you want? To be imprisoned by someone, and used daily in rituals against your will? Maybe it would be a man who finds you and takes pity, then you could be used in other ways too.” Frederick paused, a cruel smile curving his lips. “You live as freely as I wish. I own you, don’t ever forget it.”
“We’re almost ready,” Adeline said from the corner, her dark eyes watching. “Kyra, go help Cassandra finalise the circle.”
Kyra dipped her head, the gesture out of necessity rather than respect. “Of course, High Priestess.” Adeline had just been promoted to the position, her predecessor having gone missing almost two years ago. It wasn’t a surprise, a lot of witches went missing from the coven. She suspected they hadn’t simply disappeared, but she had no evidence. Not that she could do anything about it, not when Frederick was a law unto himself.
“Hurry now,” Adeline added. If she had overheard the conversation, she didn’t acknowledge it, not that Kyra expected her to. She was just as trapped, as were the other witches. Some enjoyed it, while others fought to be free. No one succeeded.
There were always a minimum of four members at all times, never less. Four black witches or mages were needed for many of the incantations, and Kyra was always called for the more difficult spells.
“I don’t need any help,” Cassandra snapped from her position by Earth. “Just get to your own position, Kyra.” She tugged at her box braids, long enough they tangled by her ankles.
Kyra bit her lip, not surprised by the acerbic response. She stepped back, checking the markings on the floor anyway.
Witch magic was centred on the five elements, Earth, Fire, Water, Air and Spirit. However, black magic depicted the elements slightly differently than their earthen magic classifications. With normal magic, the elements were represented as various squiggly lines, while black were all different triangles. Earth, which was where Cassandra stood was an inverted triangle with a horizontal line through the centre. Beside her was Faye, the teenager barely looking up from the floor as she stood inside her little circle. She represented Water, simply an inverted triangle with no line.
Opposite stood Saul, the only mage in the coven. That was strange enough, mages seen as inferior to The Magicka because they had no direct links to their chi. They were essentially humans that had a recessive gene from a distant witch relative. Saul was in his thirties, at Kyra’s guess, but she couldn’t ask because he had no tongue, having cut it out to use for a spell before he was forced into the coven. It made him powerful, powerful enough that Frederick thought he deserved a place there despite his Breed. Saul stood for Fire, an upright triangle.
“Hurry up, Kyra!” Adeline said as she took her position at Air, the element an upright triangle with a horizontal line through the centre. “Get in your position, we’re already behind schedule.”
Kyra was the last element, Spirit. As the pentagram was inverted she stood in the bottom circle, with Fire and Earth as the fixed points to her left and right, and Air and Water as the flow points opposite.
“You all know your roles,” Frederick said, his voice smooth as whisky as he handed Saul the first candle, the wick already lit. Saul held it tightly in his fist, not making a sound as the scalding wax hit his bare skin.
The next candle went to Cassandra, who hissed at the slight pain as she held her candle.
“It’s important we anchor the circle,” Frederick continued, “we don’t want to have an accident, do we?” A dark chuckle as he handed Faye the third candle. She still hadn’t looked up from the floor, but Kyra noticed the tears that glistened on the young girl’s cheeks.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Kyra whispered.
