Covens and Coffins

by Lily Webb

  “I take it you know her?” I asked.

  “Know her? Zoe, she’s one of the three richest, most influential witches in all of Moon Grove. Everyone knows the Crowes,” Raina said.

  “Why didn’t you get me an autograph?!” Mallory wailed as she came skidding to a halt beside me.

  “Because I didn’t know I should’ve,” I said, shrugging. “So does that mean we’re going to meet her tomorrow night?”

  “We’d be fools to refuse, if for no other reason than to see what the Crowes have to offer,” Raina said.

  “Wait, what? The Crowes want to meet with us?!” Mallory asked, her eyes as wide as dinner plates under the magnification of her coke-bottle glasses.

  “Tomorrow at seven,” I said.

  “At their mansion?” Mallory asked, her eyes somehow growing even wider.

  “I assume that’s what she meant when she said estate, yeah,” I said.

  “Well hot dog on a stick, Sugar. I knew you was doin’ somethin’ right with this campaign, but this seems like it might be a home run,” Grandma said.

  “It’s beyond a home run, Elle, this could be a shut out!” Mallory shouted. “The Crowes make and break people in this town and if they think you’re worth talking to, that’s huge. Lorelei Riddle and Ruby Cromwell are gonna be shaking in their robes when they get wind of this meeting.”

  “Who would’ve thought falling off my broom would be the best thing I could do for my campaign?” I asked. Grandma cackled and threw her arms around me again.

  “‘Atta girl!”

  Chapter Two

  The Crowe Estate was more like a castle. Four towers jutted up from its stone enclosure at each corner, a crown around the fifth and tallest tower in the center.

  “So just how rich are these people?” I hissed to Raina as the gate to the castle dragged across the rocks to allow us inside. I couldn’t take my eyes off the central tower, which scraped at the night sky hundreds of feet in the air and must’ve been where the Crowes lived — appropriate, given their family name.

  A pair of gargoyles greeted us on the other side of the gate, their impossibly thick forearms crossed over their equally muscular pecs.

  “They have enough money to pay for their own private gargoyle security, so probably richer than we’ll ever know,” Raina said, smiling and nodding at the gargoyles as we approached.

  “Stop there,” the first barked, holding out a hand to halt us. I didn’t dare disobey. The gargoyles swept around us and patted us down. When they were satisfied, they each held out a clawed hand.

  “Wands,” one ordered, its voice like churning gravel.

  “I hardly think that’s necessary, gentlemen,” Raina laughed, but the gargoyle narrowed its molten gold eyes at her.

  “No exceptions,” he growled, jabbing his open palm through the air at her. Flustered, Raina reached into her robes for her wand, thrust it a bit too forcefully into the gargoyle’s hand, and nodded for me to do the same.

  “Welcome to the Crowe’s Keep,” the gargoyle jabbed.

  “I hope there’s an elevator,” I said, and regretted it the instant the ornery gargoyle fixed his otherworldly eyes on me. “Relax, guys, I’m kidding. Who couldn’t use the exercise these days, right?”

  Raina pulled me away by the arm before I could make more of a fool of myself, and for the first time that evening I was grateful she’d come with me to meet the Crowes.

  A blood-red, windowless wooden door was set in the stone of the central tower, ornamented by nothing more than a silver knocker in the shape of a crow’s head. Given the gargoyles, it seemed odd that a door and the hundreds of stairs beyond it were all that were left to separate us from three of the most powerful witches in all of Moon Grove.

  More than at any other point in my campaign for Head Witch, I felt like I was in over my head. I knew a thing or two about talking to prominent people, thanks to my past life as a reporter, but rubbing shoulders and schmoozing with the rich elite had never been my forte, a fact that was clearest to me as Raina and I ascended the spiral stone staircase.

  Photos of the Crowes with the Head Warlock Heath Highmore, the previous Head Witch Claudette Riddle, and others I didn’t recognize but could only assume were equally noteworthy, drove the message home. Interspersed among the photos were plaques and awards of Lydia’s, each a tribute to a race she’d won or a record she’d broken.

  “So why do they call Lydia the Black Wing?” I asked, my voice bounding up the stairs ahead of us all the way to the top.

  “She’s the best broom racer in living memory,” Raina said, nonplussed. “I’m stunned you haven’t heard her story yet.”

  “Well, with all the bodies piling up around me since I moved here, I haven’t exactly had time to stop and absorb all the history,” I said.

  “That’s fair,” Raina said as she continued climbing. “They call Lydia the Black Wing because she’s as fast and deft on her broom as her surname implies, but she’s as black and ruthless as they come on the track. She doesn’t take well to losing.”

  A chill ran down my spine as I thought about what that might mean for me if we partnered with her, but that was putting the broom before the witch.

  We climbed the remainder of the stairs in silence until we came to a smaller but no less red door. Raina knocked three times and seconds later the door flung open to reveal a tall, thin witch in black robes whose flaming hair wound down her shoulders in more braids than I could count like burning snakes.

  “There she is, the witch of the hour!” she shouted. “Eden, Lydia, our guests have arrived!” she called over her shoulder and stepped aside to allow us to pass.

  Inside, a small fire crackled behind the grate of a grand fireplace, and expensive artwork the likes of which I’d never seen screamed down at me from the walls. Plush red carpet dampened the sound of my footsteps as I worked my way toward the fireplace while trying not to bump any of the elaborate pottery pieces balanced on the marble stands that ringed the room.

  From another staircase that wound further up the tower, Lydia appeared in a stunning but simple black gown, its cleavage slashed with leather and ornamented by a silver chain that dangled across her chest from one shoulder to the other. A tiny crow charm hung from its center, bobbing with each of Lydia’s steps as if begging for corn.

  The witch who followed her wore a muted black dress threaded with silver that hugged her frame as naturally as if it were her skin; it matched the salt-and-pepper hair tied on top of her head in a loose bun. A curly strand fell behind each of her ears where it met the silver cape that trailed behind her dress.

  Each of the Crowes looked like they were ready for a soirée. My plain blue work robes looked pedestrian by comparison.

  “Zoe Clarke, it’s so nice to meet you,” the second witch said, offering me her hand. Silver and gold bands jangled on her wrist as we shook.

  “Likewise, Ms. Crowe,” I said.

  “Please, call me Eden. There are three of us old Crowes here tonight, it might get confusing for everyone if you don’t use my name,” Eden said, smiling.

  “And I’m Ivy,” the red-headed witch said as she joined us.

  “Thank you all for inviting us tonight, it’s an unexpected but pleasant surprise,” Raina said, always there to smooth over my rough edges.

  “The pleasure is ours,” Lydia said, her frosty blue eyes focused on mine. I shivered. “Can I interest you in a drink? We’ve found conversation goes easier that way.”

  “While we appreciate the offer, it’s probably best to keep a level head,” Raina said.

  “Of course,” Lydia said, smirking. She gestured to the leather furniture in front of the fire. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. We have much to discuss.”

  “Thank you,” Raina said and led me to the smallest of the three sofas in the room. All three Crowes sat opposite us, staring at us like we were a shiny object they couldn’t wait to get their beaks and claws around.

  “What’s wrong, Zoe? Familiar
got your tongue?” Lydia quipped.

  “Er, sorry, I’m just not used to being surrounded by so much—”

  “Gaudiness? Thank Lilith someone else agrees,” Ivy said with a smile. Lydia and Eden both shot her an accusatory look. “What? Now a witch can’t be honest in her own home? Truly, what is this town coming to?”

  “Opulence was the word I was looking for, actually,” I said.

  “That’s flattering of you to say, but you’re as welcome here as any of us,” Lydia insisted.

  “Thanks, and thank you again for saving me from myself yesterday,” I said and Eden chuckled.

  “Yes, we’ve heard the story. What a remarkable chance meeting that was! The savior becomes the saved,” Eden said with awe in her voice, but I was starting to think meeting Lydia wasn’t chance at all.

  “Oh, I’d hardly call myself a savior,” I said, though I failed to keep the blush from spreading across my face.

  “No? Then what would you call the one witch who’s stopped several murderers in their tracks and kept Merlin’s Heart out of the hands of the Black Brotherhood?” Ivy asked.

  Clearly, my reputation preceded me — though I couldn’t yet tell if that was a good or bad thing.

  “Lucky,” I said and all three of the Crowes tossed back their heads in laughter.

  “Am I to assume you think it’s luck that has your name on every pair of lips in town?” Eden asked.

  “Okay, and maybe a little of spunk,” I said to more laughter. Raina frowned at me, disapproving.

  “I think it’s your personality coupled with your raw talent that makes you a winner, Zoe,” Lydia said and my breath caught in my throat. “I’ll be honest, that’s why we invited you here tonight. We want to see you elected.”

  “Wow, I—”

  “Am beyond grateful,” Raina interrupted me, smiling.

  “Yeah, what she said.”

  “Ladies, forgive me the presumption, but I’ve been active in this community long enough to know that nothing comes without a cost. So, what is it you’d ask of us in exchange for your support?” Raina asked.

  “You’ve chosen a good campaign manager, Zoe,” Lydia said, her eyes flashing like chips of ice in the sun as she regarded Raina. “It takes a true witch of wit and skill to cut right to the chase, and we respect that.”

  “Raina is second to none,” I said, smiling. Raina waved me away and Lydia shifted on the sofa, leaning forward so her gaze captured mine and mine alone.

  “You more than any single person in this town know how turbulent it’s become, Zoe,” Lydia said. “While it’s certainly true that Moon Grove was never without issue, the number of incidents have noticeably increased since you arrived, though I’m sure that’s nothing more than a coincidence.”

  “To be sure,” Raina agreed, her tone flat.

  “So yes, it’s true that we asked you to join us tonight with an agenda in mind,” Lydia said. Big surprise there, but what did they want from me?

  “What my wordy sister is trying to say is that we’ve been pressuring the Council for months to consider implementing a series of restrictions on wand sales to curb the levels of violence in Moon Grove,” Ivy interrupted.

  “They weren’t receptive?” I asked.

  “Not exactly, no,” Lydia said, glaring at Ivy. “It’s a tricky situation. Wands are more important to witches and warlocks than anything else. They’re a part of their identities, and many consider their wands to be the only thing keeping them free and independent, so it’s no surprise that the Council has been reluctant to restrict them in any way.”

  “If they saw me try to use mine, they’d probably change their minds,” I said and Eden snorted, though Raina looked at me with fire in her eyes.

  “It’s funny you should say that, because that’s exactly where we think you might be able to help,” Lydia said. “You aren’t like any other witch or warlock in town, Zoe. Your outsider reputation could be a real asset.”

  “How so?”

  “Once it might’ve been considered political suicide to propose wand restrictions, but that was before. Things are much different now, yet the witches here still can’t look past themselves,” Lydia said.

  “But you could speak to them as someone from the outside looking in, and with authority to boot. If someone with an impressive, altruistic reputation like yours said publicly that Moon Grove was in desperate need of wand reform, people would listen because you don’t have a familiar in the fight.”

  “By the same token, taking such a controversial position could put us further outside the mainstream with voters,” Raina pointed out, and I nodded my agreement.

  “We’ve already thought about that. With our official, public backing, you’d instantly have the majority of Moon Grove behind you. For better or worse, we have sway,” Lydia said. “I have no doubt that with your love among the citizens and our political power, we could pass wand reform and get you elected.”

  “When you say wand reform, what exactly do you mean?” I asked. “Are we going to storm into people’s houses and confiscate their wands?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Ivy laughed. “That’s a death wish if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “She’s right. No, we’re proposing common sense reform to existing laws: no one should be sold a wand who can’t pass a background check, and the wands manufactured going forward should have a cap on the number of offensive spells they can cast in a small time frame. That’s it,” Lydia said.

  “That sounds reasonable,” I said, but Raina eyed me, suggesting otherwise.

  “Why is this particular issue so important to you?” Raina asked. The Crowes shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and exchanged uncertain looks. Finally, Lydia cleared her throat.

  “Our parents died when we were young girls. They were victims of a targeted robbery at wandpoint due to their wealth and status,” Lydia said, her eyes locked on her clasped hands. “When they refused to hand over their money, the robber killed them.”

  Raina’s eyes went wide. “That wasn’t the story told at the time,” she whispered.

  “No. We tried our best to keep the truth from getting out because we didn’t want all of Moon Grove feeling sorry for us poor little rich girls,” Eden said.

  Instead, they’d bided their time and quietly become some of the most powerful people in the entire town; I couldn’t say they’d made the wrong move.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Raina said.

  “Don’t be. It forced us to stand on our own feet and shaped us into who and what we are today,” Ivy said, straightening up in pride.

  “But that’s why we need you, Zoe. We know you can help us pass this bill, and we know you’d be a great leader. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?” Lydia asked, all the confidence drained from her face as her eyes swept over my face like spotlights.

  “I, uh, I’m—”

  “Going to have to talk it over with her team,” Raina interrupted. “While we appreciate the offer, we’d be doing an incredible disservice to the rest of our campaign if we didn’t consult them first. Right, Zoe?”

  “Right,” I said, nodding. Lydia’s face hardened as her hands fell to her sides.

  “Of course. We wouldn’t dream of asking you otherwise. I’m sure you’ll have an answer for us by the time the town hall meeting is finished on Monday night. We look forward to seeing you there,” Lydia said and stood from the sofa. My heart plunged into my stomach — I’d forgotten all about it.

  “It’s been a pleasure chatting with you, and I look forward to your decision,” Lydia said.

  That was it then. They didn’t get what they wanted — or at least not yet — so the evening was over.

  “We will certainly have an answer for you by then. Thank you again for the offer and the lovely evening,” Raina said as she ushered me to my feet. We exchanged handshakes and Lydia walked us to the door. As my foot made contact with the first step down the Crowe’s Keep, Lydia rested a hand on my shoulder to stop me in my tra
cks.

  “It’s a shame we couldn’t come to an agreement tonight,” she said, her expression sharp as carved stone. “But we’ll pass this bill no matter what you decide. We always get what we want. Don’t forget that, Zoe.”

  I never would.

  Chapter Three

  The Moon Grove Town Hall was almost unrecognizable.

  Streamers dangled from the ceiling, brightening the otherwise dreary, serious space, and the attendees wore fancy gowns and crisp suits. Waiters and waitresses bobbed between them carrying overloaded trays of champagne and other beverages.

  And at the center of all the commotion, a much smaller table replaced the raised dais where the thirteen witches and warlocks of the Council usually sat. Behind it, three chairs waited for me and my two competitors, Lorelei Riddle and Ruby Cromwell.

  “Are you nervous?” Raina whispered in my ear.

  “You’re joking, right? Of course I’m nervous,” I said as I wiped my palms on the inside of my robes where no one could see. I’d never addressed the public in a setting like this before, so I didn’t know what to expect — not least of all because I knew Lorelei and Ruby both had reasons to gun for me.

  For starters, I’d gotten Lorelei’s daughter Aurelia thrown in jail and later accused Lorelei herself of another murder. As for Ruby, I accused her sister of murder during the last election for Head Witch — an election that never finished because of said killing.

  If nothing else, tonight would be a great show for the audience.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Sugar. You’re gonna do just fine,” Grandma Elle said, one arm wrapped around my neck. She pecked my cheek with a kiss, her tangled white curls tickling my nose, and squeezed my shoulder.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “It’s nice to have moral support.”

  “You kiddin’ me? I wouldn’t miss this for nothin’!” Grandma said.

  “Elle’s right, you’ll be fine. Just stick to your talking points and don’t let anyone bait you, no matter how hard they try,” Mallory said, but I was barely paying attention as my eyes swept the room for Beau. He had to be around somewhere; there wasn’t any way Channel 666 would let their star reporter miss this big night.