by L W Rogers
Both audibly gulp at the prospect and then Thing One steps forward offering me his outstretched hand. I take it, shake it, and release it, wiping the grime and sweat now gathered on my hand against my leg.
“I’m Jarrod. This is Mitch. I’ll take you up. We can’t leave the door completely unguarded, so Mitch will stay here. Are you sure he won’t be pissed if I take you up?”
“I was told to report back to him every few days, so I expect he will probably commend you both for your actions.”
I can’t guarantee this, of course. Anyone who is anyone knows that The Satan can be unpredictable at times. It’s unlikely that he’ll be upset with them letting me through though as he’s expecting news on the mole. Although, I have no news and really I shouldn’t be here. What I should be doing is sending him word from above ground. But he’ll be pleased that I’ve made an effort to bring the word to him directly...won’t he? Anyway, I can’t be worrying myself about that right now. He needs me for this quest, so nothing untoward will happen to me for the foreseeable. I hope.
Jarrod’s voice cuts through my conversation with myself and I throw him a grin.
“Okay then. Follow me.”
“Just show me the way, soldier.”
Chapter 7
Cadence
I extinguish my flaming palms and head back to the all-familiar sink to cool off. Steam escapes from them as the cool water washes away the flames. My mind is in overdrive. There is so much to take in…I am unsure on which part to act on first. Then the realisation hits. I only have about 24 hours left to get the coven together and to go back to Hannah’s house to give her the proper burial she deserves and to get rid of any evidence of foul play. Ugh! I will have to inform them of my little visit and about the athame. I’d usually speak to mum about this sort of thing before going to the coven, but I know full well that she will not be well enough for at least a few days. Seeing how her ‘gift’ (I wouldn’t call it that to be honest. More of a burden if you ask me) affects and limits her when used makes me angry. Not at her. I may be a bitch but I love my mother with everything I have. I feel angry because there’s nothing I can do about it and each time she uses this ‘gift’ a little bit of her gets lost too. She never completely recovers from it and I worry one day it will be too much for her body.
I dry off and grab yet another coffee before I sit down to the long list of messages I need to get through. Grabbing my planner and coffee I set to work. I listen through my messages deleting the irrelevant ones as I go. There are several from Lailah. Have to give her points for persistence. I return the relevant calls needed from work and make notes where needed. Once that’s complete, I then have the arduous task of calling the coven’s second in command, Helena, who doesn’t particularly care for me. The feeling is mutual. Now, you may be thinking that I should be second in the pecking order of things. With my mother as coven leader I guess in some respects I am. At this moment in time I will be classed as interim leader what with my mother out of action for several days. This will only piss Helena off even more. Eventually I will become coven leader and that is part of the ritual my mother was talking about just yesterday. There are so many hoops to jump through and when it is finally done my mother will ‘retire.’ I say this term loosely as it is not to be used in the same way that you retire from a normal 9-5 job. It requires a Passover of magic amongst other things and I’m just not ready for my mother to do that. I understand her haste, especially after seeing what the last use of her magic has done to her. I want so badly to take that pain from her. I just wish there was another way to do so.
Anyway, I digress. All of that worry will have to wait. Right now I need to step up as best I can and also remember to bite my tongue. I dial for Helena, taking a deep breath as she answers.
“What can I do for you, Cadence?” she asks politely, but with a touch of pompousness in her tone as she does so. She doesn’t need caller ID to know who is calling as she has psychic abilities.
“Afternoon, Helena,” I begin through gritted teeth “I call because there is need of the whole coven.” An awkward silence follows. I inwardly role my eyes at her rudeness not to even acknowledge that tiny introduction. “I don’t know if you have spoken to my mum -”
“I have,” she interrupts.
“Then she must have told you about the witch that was brutally murdered.”
“She did.” These short, monotone answers are pissing me off.
“Can you please contact the others and ask them to meet me at her house tonight at 22:00? I’ll text you the address. I’ll collect everything needed.”
“Of course. Good day, Cadence.” Then comes the dead tone. I stare at the phone for a few seconds infuriated at her. She’s such an ass.
My mind wonders to Lailah and her request. Questions begin to whirl around, things I really should have asked before my temper got the better of me. It must have been important; what with the unannounced visit and the ridiculous amount of messages left. I make a mental note to make contact tomorrow.
For now, I have to bury a fellow witch. I hate to do it, but I really need to see mum, not only see how she is recovering, but also make sure I know exactly what I’m doing for tonight and that I’m prepared. The last thing I need is for Helena to put her two pennies worth by once again stating that she feels my mum is wrong in having me as coven leader. I’ve grown up with her always saying I’m not good enough. If I’m honest with myself I worry that I won’t be. I have huge boots to fill. Just the thought of what’s to come in the near future makes my stomach turn in knots.
Shaking the uneasy thoughts away, I grab my keys and head out to the car. No chauffeur today. I leave the city and its deafening noise and head towards the countryside. My mum lives about forty five minutes from the city; it takes me only thirty. I’ve never been one to stick to the rules. As I drive through the greenery, a sense of calm washes over me. It always has that effect. Why I work in a city with my temper is beyond me. Maybe I do it to please my mum?
I take a left turn, down a small country lane that leads towards her house. It’s the only road that has access to it. I release the stress of the day’s events as I absorb the sunshine raining down on me as I drive. I roll the windows down, taking in the countryside’s fragrances. The freshness it brings is soothing. I can smell the lavender field in the distance and I know home is close by. You don’t get these amazing aromas in the city. I daydream a little as I continue my drive. I pull up outside my mum’s house and see her on the porch swing, cup in hand and her favourite black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. It may be a beautiful sunny day but there is a frosty nip in the air.
“Hey mum,” I shout as I get out and head towards her. I can see she’s been busy pottering around. There are several flower pots on the porch with a trail of compost crumbs surrounding them.
“Afternoon, Cadence. I wasn’t expecting to see you,” she says with her arms wide open, taking me in her arms. “Everything okay?”
I pull away from her embrace and smile.
“I’m good mum. I came to see how you are.” She waves her hand at me in a nonchalant way.
“You worry too much, Cadence.” She continues her pottering. I follow. I see her bagging up herbs from her herb garden. “Now, I’ve been gathering the items we need for the ritual...”
“Mum, not now.”
“Cadence! Enough! You can’t keep avoiding it. It needs to be done and the sooner the better,” she snaps at me. I know not to push her when she uses that tone. It’s the same tone I’ve heard all my life. One that tells you she means business.
“Now, I’ve gathered all the ingredients for you, alongside the required grimoire for it. It’s on the table over there.” I walk over to it. She has placed it all into a box.
“Your necklace?” I pull it from the box, holding it up. “Why do I need this now?” I’m so confused. She never takes that off.
“You’ll understand soon, but please could you put it on and don’t take it off. Promise!”
she insists. I hesitate only briefly, but do as I’m asked.
“Now go put the box in your car and then come inside for some tea.” She enters the house before I can even protest. I do as she asks and then head into the house. The smell of freshly baked cookies fills my nostrils and my stomach growls. I’ve completely forgotten to eat. A couple of mouthfuls of omelette is just not going to cut it.
I follow the sweet, inviting smell and find myself out in the conservatory where mum is pouring our tea. This is our favourite place in the whole house. It overlooks the garden and the vast amount of fields and woodland, my favourite being her lavender field. I have often gone out to that small field, surrounded by all the fresh lavender, and laid there relaxed and calm. I think my mum bought this piece of land when I was younger for that reason. Even at a young age my powers were coming in, earlier than they should have and so did the temper. The field helped. It would calm me down and help me sleep. It truly was stunning.
I take a slurp of tea and then devour some cookies at quite an embarrassing speed. Mum doesn’t moan or question this. I look up at her, watching as she stares out into the garden and beyond, taking note of how tired and fragile she looks. She hides it behind a smile as best she can, but these small, rare glimpses just show me her frailty. She turns to me with a warm smile.
“Other than checking up on me, is there anything else bothering you?” she asks. I want to tell her about my little visit from a certain angel, but feel that this isn’t the right time. I don’t want to burden her any more than necessary right now.
“I only wanted to double check I have everything needed for tonight’s burial. I don’t want to forget anything.” I smile at her and go over the plans I have in place, discussing at length the details needed to ensure I won’t fuck up. She probably knows I’m nervous and worried, but she doesn’t let on, just gives reassurance. I spend the rest of the day with her, enjoying this rare time we have together.
“Now remember to keep this on always,” she tells me holding the necklace up in her hand. “Once the ritual is over tonight I want you to go through the box and start preparing okay? Promise me.”
I don’t argue. She looks exhausted and I know this means a lot to her.
“I promise.” I hug her tight before leaving.
I have a further couple of hours to drive to Hannah’s. I get there in plenty of time to prepare what I can before the rest of the coven arrives.
***
I pull up outside Hannah’s. Nothing has changed. I can still feel the spell working. I grab all the equipment and head out back to her garden. I find a spot under one of many huge oak trees, where I’ll perform the burial. I feel this is as good a place as any for Hannah’s final resting place. I rummage around in one of her sheds for a shovel. It’s one of the only things I haven’t thought to bring and is pretty much a necessity at this stage, but all I find is a small handheld trowel perfect for weeding and such. I definitely do not want to dig a grave with this measly tool. All I have left is magic and to be honest I’m a bit rusty.
I head back to the spot I have chosen, place four candles around me and cast my circle. It takes a couple of attempts for the cast to stick. I’m really rusty. Thank god I’m doing this now and not in front of the coven. I’m sure Helena would take great pleasure in telling me how useless I am. With the circle finally cast, I close my eyes and concentrate. I mentally picture the ground in front of me shifting. I envisage the compact mud separating and crumbling in on itself. I feel a little rumble beneath me and I casually open one eye to check if it’s working. Nothing. Ugh! I shake myself off, take a deep breath and try again, this time really concentrating on the elements and Mother Nature. It would have helped to have Maggie here. She is an earth element, so she’d shift this with a flick of her wrist. As you can imagine my element is fire and I don’t think that’s really going to help me right now.
With one almighty push of mental power I feel the earth shaking. I open my eyes to see that where once there was a beautiful lawn, there is now a deep dark pit. It worked. I smile, pleased with myself. I check the time, Crap! That took longer than I thought. I pull myself up and continue preparing. They’ll be here soon.
I leave the house and Hannah till last. I really don’t want to see poor Hannah’s body again, but it has to be done. I won’t move her until the coven gets here. I really don’t fancy that job on my own. Some of the spells don’t warrant the covens help, so I continue doing these as I go from room to room, removing any evidence of what happened here. The only place that needs more than just my power will be the basement where Hannah lost her life. That sort of evil requires a massive boost of magic, more than any one witch could do. I’m good but not that good.
I hear the banging of doors and know that they are arriving. I put my ‘big girl’s pants’ on, take a deep breath and head back out to welcome my coven with the fakest smile I can muster, whilst inwardly crapping my pants. I may be a big shot in the business world, but here I still feel way out of my depth.
The first person I welcome is Trudy. Trudy is a water element. Her personality reflects this. Wishy-washy. That’s all I’m gonna say. I embrace her as we do with all of our coven. “Blessed be.”
“Blessed be.” She smiles as she returns the embrace.
Next is Maggie. We get on well. She’s closer to my age which helps and she never makes me feel worthless or that I don’t belong. She grabs me and holds me in a tight, friendly hug.
“Blessed be,” she whispers with a hint of sarcasm. Now we are both respectful of the coven and their ways, but we always found this welcome and goodbye a bit…how should I put it? Forced. I return the welcome and she stays by my side whilst I welcome the others. In total there are thirteen of us.
Helena is the last to arrive. No surprise there. Helena would be representing the spirit element. The strongest of the coven leaders all have their own elements as do I. The only one I haven’t mentioned yet is Isabelle. She’s our air element. Nothing much to say, really. She’s nice enough, but she keeps to herself a lot of the time. The rest of the coven is here more to help with the ritual by bringing their magic to it for strength. Spells such as the one we are about to perform take a lot of power.
Once we are all together, I lead them down to the basement. I hear a few gasps and whispers as we enter. A few hold their hands to their faces as the smell of decay hits them. It’s a lot to stomach and even I have to force myself to breathe through my mouth instead of my nose. We form a circle around Hannah’s body. I light the five candles, one to represent each of the elements and I hand them to each of the leaders. Each candle has a different colour for what it represents. Helena is stood in the middle of the circle, her candle placed at the foot of Hannah’s body. The rest of us spread out evenly within the circle with our candles at our feet. We each call out to our elements, asking for their strength and power at this time. With each element comes the familiarity of it.
For me, fire. Warmth and power surround me.
For Isabelle, air. A cool breeze swirls around her.
For Trudy, water. The sounds of waves crashing as the power washes through her.
For Maggie is earth. The smell of the earth as it pulses through her.
Then finally, Helena, Spirit. A strength like no other.
With all five elements called, we begin. Now, firstly, we have to eradicate any trace of what has happened and of who Hannah was. That takes a lot of time and power. Then there is Hannah’s poor body and soul. She needs to be moved. With the coven working as one we are able to levitate her and move her to her final resting place. We place her carefully in the ground. Maggie gently asks the earth to cover our sister and to take her back from where she came, thanking her element as always.
Helena casts a spell to protect Hannah’s soul and to give it safe passage to her next life. Once we are sure we have done all we can, we all thank our elements and ask them to depart.
We’re all quiet for some time after, even Helena. They all depart
in drabs until it’s only Maggie, Helena, and myself left. All three of us stand around Hannah’s final resting place, quiet. Helena is the first to speak.
“This is a sad loss. One that I’m sure will be felt for some time. I’m sure your mother would have wanted to be here if she could.” I look up at Helena, taken aback by her words. She’s being sincere, for once.
“I know she wants you to take over soon, Cadence. Make sure you’re ready for what’s to come. Blessed be!” Without even giving me a chance to reply she is gone. Then there is just me and Maggie.
“What do you think she meant by that?” I turn to Maggie and ask.
“Hell if I know. This is Helena were talking about,” she smirks. I return the smile, but inwardly feel uneasy with those words.
Chapter 8
Blaine
If God is a gangster, then the devil is an armchair referee. That is my belief and I’m standing by it.
The scene now unfolding before me certainly doesn’t do anything to change my opinion. My new friend, Jarrod, is cowering on the ground and the sounds of a bullwhip are providing a monotone soundtrack that is punctuated with the melodic whimpers that occasionally escape his throat. To think it had all started so well when we first arrived here too.
The Satan initially appeared pleased. Commending Jarrod and his absent comrade Mitch for overriding his orders and bringing me to him upon another’s request, he smiled warmly at his subject and looked, for all intents and purposes, like he was going to give the guy a gold star and a pay rise. To be fair, Jarrod should have picked up on the undertones of sarcasm lingering beneath the words. I’d already warned him that the boss lived for the element of surprise. It was his choice to ignore the warnings.
As always, our esteemed leader is sitting on his throne with a wicked grin on his face as he picks grit from beneath his ancient claws. Hell forbid that he actually doles out the punishment himself. We wouldn’t want to dirty those perfectly manicured hands now, would we? Instead, it is the daemon Lychester who is brandishing his whip and tanning the hide of the unfortunate Jarrod.