by Patti Larsen
Nervous? Hell no. Not anymore.
Odette opened her mouth to argue, but I found out then I'd won an ally.
“I accept Sydlynn Hayle as leader of the Hayle Coven.” Tallah's voice was soft, but firm, casual almost. As though this conversation was no big deal. “I vote she remain.”
Odette scowled at her, tried again, only to have her arm slapped by Violet.
“Oh, let the girl be, Odette.” She nodded once to Batsheva. “Sydlynn Hayle has the support of the Rhodes family. In this matter.”
Batsheva immediately held up one hand before the Dumont leader could speak and actually nodded to me, smile returning.
The only other leader who stayed silent was Benita Santos, confirming Gram's assessment.
Odette looked like a fish floundering to return to the water, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to regain control of the situation. As she spluttered and turned to Batsheva, clearly looking for support, the Council leader held up one hand.
“I also accept Sydlynn Hayle as coven leader,” she said in the voice I remembered and despised. “But on one condition.”
Gram's voice growled in my head. Be prepared for anything.
I drew a breath and nodded to her. “And that is?”
“If you're to fill your mother's seat,” she said, voice low and more than reasonable, “you must do so in full.”
Someone gasped. Was it me? I don't think so. I was still processing what she said.
Gram was swearing in my head like a sailor on shore leave who'd been taken by a lady of the night. Odette was visibly happy with this turn of events, so it couldn't be good.
“I beg your pardon?” I was piecing it together even as Batsheva smiled at me.
“Allow me to be clear.” She leaned forward in her seat, eyes drilling holes in me. “If you wish to claim leadership of the Hayle Coven, I'm all for it. But to do so, you must take possession of the full power of your family magic.”
***
Chapter Thirteen
Oh no she did not. My heart stopped a moment before making me fight for air as it thudded back to motion. I heard a few more gasps from the witches around me as I finally understood what she was saying.
She wanted me to strip my mother of her power. To reduce her to nothing, all so I could keep sitting with the other leaders.
Yeah, that was going to happen.
I'm sure my outrage was written all over my face, but it wasn't long before I felt someone stand beside me and knew I wasn't alone.
Seemed the passive nature of these witches had been pushed as far as it would go.
“This is outrageous.” Tallah's voice actually vibrated with anger. “Miriam Hayle has as yet to be tried, let alone proven guilty of anything. To order her stripped of her magic at this juncture is unacceptable.”
“Here, here.” Violet's tiny body shook with rage. “Never will I sit by and watch another leader be so maligned before she's even had a chance to present her case. This I will not stand for, Council Leader.”
Even Irene Bradford spoke up. “My Council member and I will depart this conclave if such a travesty were to be allowed.”
The whole room was in uproar then, witches speaking out their upset. Even the Council members looked uncomfortable, not meeting anyone's eyes. Batsheva slowly sat back, shrugging.
“If it is the wish of the majority,” she said, “so shall it be.”
Odette shuddered as if shaking something off of her shoulders. In that moment I understood completely what her act implied. The night at the hotel, when she'd finally attacked Mom, it felt as though the old woman was being controlled by someone and now I knew exactly who held her puppet strings.
Tests, all these tests. I was sick of it already and the trial hadn't even started.
Well done. Gram's mind hugged me. Now we've seen how far she can push them. There is still enough respect for Miriam this may yet work in our favor. Now, act while you have the upper hand.
Right. Right! I remained on my feet while everyone else sat down, even Odette, though she looked very, very unhappy.
“Council,” I said, voice slightly raised, “as acting Hayle Coven leader, I am saddened to see an absence of representation among your number.” Fancy speech, right? I was proud of myself. Those two summers of theater camp I insisted Mom let me take were paying off. “It is time a member of the Hayle family take her rightful place at the Council table.”
Odette was instantly on her feet. “This is outrageous! How dare she dictate to the Council!”
“Oh, do sit down and be quiet, Odette.” Violet's face scrunched up as she smacked the other woman on the arm again. I could very easily love the little leader of the Rhodes Coven. I just wished she'd hit Odette harder. “No one cares what you think.”
Benita Santos twitched, but didn't speak. Interesting.
Isn't it? I could practically feel Gram rubbing her physical hands together. Well said, Violet.
Odette sank back to her chair, shock mixed with fury all over her face. Especially when Batsheva didn't back her. I imagined the Dumont leader's bubble was being popped right about then. Though I wondered, as Batsheva turned to me, why she was pissing off the woman she conspired with.
“Very well,” she said. “Long have the Hayles not sent a member to Council.”
Gram snorted. Been kept out, she means.
“Choose your witch, Sydlynn Hayle. And choose wisely.”
Should I be worried she's giving in so easily? I slowly turned, eyes falling on Erica when Gram answered.
Maybe. But we need this. So don't worry about it.
Gram, you're the one who said Erica is only ever a second.
As a coven leader, she said. But give her responsibility like this and I think she'll surprise even herself. Gram prodded me. Stop questioning and get to it.
Gotcha. Erica's eyes widened from the look of concern she'd been wearing since I took my seat with the other leaders. Understanding finally reached her, a flicker of admiration and surprise replacing her fear.
“I remove Erica Plower as second of this coven and appoint her to the High Council.” I sat down then, my knees finally unable to support me. Job done, I forced myself to breathe.
Erica rose immediately, without hesitation, as if we'd planned this together. One of the secretary's helpers hurried forward, offering her his hand as he guided her toward the Council table. The other was rushing forward with another chair, placing it at the end in the gap left for just this reason.
“Hands to your heart, witch.” She did as Batsheva told her, pressing both to her chest. “Repeat the following: I, Erica Plower, do hereby put my loyalties to this Council first and my family second while I swear to uphold the laws and orders of the Council of North American Witches.”
I listened to Erica repeat the words and all the ones that came after, barely hearing her as Gram spoke in my head.
Now, she sent, we'll see if we can make a difference. Your role in this is vital, girl. I need you with me at all times. No distractions. Including that delicious boy you're so enamored with. She cackled when I flushed, eyes going to Quaid who was watching Erica's induction.
You've finally accepted him then? She married a Dumont herself, been betrayed by Grandfather Ivan. So I guess I understood her reaction to Quaid.
I've mellowed in my old age. She sniffed and laughed. You could do worse.
Okay then. A part of me sighed in relief.
“...I do so swear.” Erica's voice was firm as she finished.
Batsheva's power oozed outward, a thin rope of deep blue lined with lavender touching Erica. I heard her gasp, saw her tremble, felt the magic of the Council bind itself to the Hayle coven magic through her. She held on as the Council's power wrapped around her and tied her to the others at the table.
“Welcome, Hayle Council Member Plower,” Batsheva said while the others at her side echoed her. All but Andre, I noticed.
The secretary drew a breath and let it out in an unhappy pu
ff. He spread his hands wide, the same magic Batsheva displayed now between his outstretched fingers. A robe to match the rest wove itself before our eyes, taking on vague human shape as it flickered with life and power. When complete, he gestured, sending it toward Erica. She held out her arms, allowed the fabric to slide around her, the large hood falling back behind her shoulders.
The entire conclave began to applaud. I joined them, jumping back to my feet, pinched toes forgotten. I was followed in my standing ovation by the majority of the witches.
A coup. Gram giggled. Oh, I wish I was there to see it, demon child!
Even Batsheva, previously smiling, had a new frown on her face at the display of support. As Erica circled the table and headed for her chair, her eyes raised and met mine.
Okay, Syd, she sent in a tight thread, maybe you do know what you're doing. A tiny smile twitched her lips as she took her seat with more grace than I'm sure I could have managed.
“Leader,” the secretary addressed Batsheva, “are all matters settled?”
She nodded, still unhappy, not really paying attention to him, power rippling outward again as if she felt the need to reinforce the seals around the room. Had I really knocked her so far off of her confidence?
Wicked.
“Very well.” He turned toward the main doors, back to the Council. “We now welcome the accused, Miriam Hayle.”
And all of my speculation, excitement at having won a small piece of the game, went out the window as the doors alone unsealed and the Enforcers led my mother in.
***
Chapter Fourteen
I've never been so proud of Mom. How she held herself like a queen, not a prisoner, the way she smiled at everyone as though they were there to see her, as a star, someone they admired.
And they did admire her. The outswell of positive energy was almost overwhelming. So much for the jealousy and bad feelings Pender mentioned toward us and our coven. They loved Mom, it was obvious. I didn't take my eyes off of her to know it and didn't need to. Our magic was so close it felt all connected and it was clear the gathered witches viewed her as someone to be adored and venerated.
I allowed myself a moment of cocky confidence. Batsheva and Odette's evil plans didn't stand a chance. Not against Mom's popularity.
Epiphany moment. Was this why they were going after Mom? Odette’s reasons were clear to me, what with her revenge vendetta and all. And while I knew Batsheva wanted Mom’s power, was there more to it? Was this a way to prevent my mother from breaking Batsheva’s hold on the Council?
The doors sealed behind the Enforcer trailing Mom as she stepped up her pace, walking slightly ahead of the one meant to lead her, a subtle move putting her on the center podium as if she'd gone there of her own choice and not theirs. Both fell back to join the others at the door.
I tried to reach for Mom, but she was too tightly shielded by the Council magic. I knew I could break through it, but didn't want to give them a further transgression to use against her or the family as a whole. Instead, I did my best to emulate her as she took her place and smiled with true kindness and poise at the Council. How she managed to keep a straight face when she looked on Batsheva I had no idea, unless someone, somehow tipped her off.
“Council,” Mom said in her best coven leader voice, all kindness and generosity, “I am most pleased to finally be in your presence.”
I'm pretty sure my mother just stole Batsheva's thunder and, from the look on the woman's face, she wasn't happy about it.
“The charges will be read.” I think Batsheva had a speech planned from the way she sat back in her chair with a huff.
“Miriam Hayle,” Batsheva glared at Mom as her secretary read from a fresh sheet of black parchment, “you are here to face your Council on multiple charges.” He began to read them off, all of them familiar. I'd heard them before, the night of her arrest, and listened with about as much attention to the trumped-up list of garbage they tried to pass off as illegal acts.
But Gram wouldn't let me brush it off. This is important, she sent. We need to know what they are coming at her with so we can prepare a counter. She hesitated before going on. Honestly, you're right. Her mental voice took on a sad note. There's really only one charge in the whole list that's going to give us trouble. And it's a doozy.
I knew to what she referred, could hardly forget it. Or the sight of my father, fresh blood on his hands and the knife he used to try to manipulate blood magic in his quest to return to Demonicon. I still didn't know if it was Mom's magic or the family power which covered up what he'd done. I was just glad, at least at the time, he'd confessed. I knew I would have done as Mom asked, carried the secret with me forever, but I also knew it would have eaten away at me and my sense of honor.
Now I was wondering if the price wouldn't have been worth it. The secretary wound down, some trash about allowing an Unseelie lordling access to a Sidhe Gate, a fact Mom had nothing to do with and a mess I cleaned up, thank you.
“And the most serious charges,” he peered over the edges of his spectacles at her as if she wasn't paying attention, “attacking another coven and instigating a battle with their leader.” I ground my teeth together, shooting a glare at Odette who looked suddenly angelic, the mistress of hurt and innocence. The room hummed with whispers as the covens talked it over. “Finally,” the annoying little man raised his nasally voice, making my ears hurt, “you are charged with aiding and abetting a blood magic user.”
I honestly felt like we'd lost then and there. Any hope I had, any confidence built in the support of the witches was gone, shattered by those words. I was amazed at the reaction, really, as Batsheva’s power flared and raced to reinforce the seals again. Was she worried someone might try to break out? Or break in? It didn’t matter. Only the angry witches did. Had they not known the charges against Mom? Clearly they hadn't. Because the moment the secretary fell silent, the page falling to his side as he dropped his arms and glared at her, the entire room went quiet.
And then, the uproar. Even the coven leaders were shouting, looking at Mom, looking at me, demanding to know what the hell was going on. I honestly think, from the look on Tallah's face at least, none of them had a clue and honestly thought this conclave was just a formality.
Totally craptastic.
It was so hard not to shout over the others, to point at Batsheva and accuse her of the same, yell how Odette was part of it. But I kept still, if only because the gentle, quiet look on Mom's face never wavered. She stood strong and straight, unflinching as they turned their wrath on her.
Any reaction from me would lessen her position. And I refused to ruin it for her. I plastered on what I hoped was a coven leader expression and held my seat, forcing myself to breathe while I prayed my mother knew what she was doing.
The noise finally died down as witches reclaimed their seats, everyone settling into sullen silence. Gone was their admiration, their adoration. She was a pariah suddenly, despised and judged before she could even be tried. The accusation seemed to be all that was required.
As I looked over the sea of faces, I felt my own twist into a look of steady disapproval and disappointment.
They made me sick.
Yes, Gram whispered in my mind. Sheep, the whole lot of them. You see where their compassion has gone, their sense of sisterhood. I knew then she referred to the leaders around me. Those who spoke for your mother now think twice about it. This is the battle we face, Sydlynn. This.
Batsheva held up one hand, silence answering her gesture. Her benevolent expression had returned, the one I was certain hid the glee she felt at her victory. When she spoke, her voice dripped with false concern and sincerity.
“Miriam Hayle,” she said, “these charges, though some of them minor, add up to a large body of treachery, capped by the betrayal of your witchcraft.” A few mumbles met her words, but they didn't last. “We will hear all evidence and from all witnesses beginning in the morning. You will continue your confinement until the time you
are either deemed innocent and set free, or guilty and put to death.”
How casually she said it. Again the power in the room shifted slightly as every single soul there realized what she meant, the tingle of Batsheva’s magic racing around the room yet again. I was getting tired of her constant play on the seals. Was it a sign of her own nervousness? Beyond her power, I could feel the collective consciousness; how the gathering’s outrage at Mom’s actions had turned to the fear they might have to actually witness the death of a coven leader.
“All rise.” We did, as one, though I was slower to gain my feet as Batsheva stood and led the Council out. I didn't watch them go, couldn't care less, was too focused on my mother. She was led away as the wards on the side door opened, allowing the Council to leave. Batsheva’s magic retreated, the seals remaining, pulsing with visible power around the open doorways. Mom followed behind the Enforcer who gestured for her to move.
As she turned, her eyes met mine for a long moment. I would cherish the smile she gave me for a very long time. Mom nodded slowly to me and I nodded back, wishing there was some way I could tell her Gram was with me.
She knows. Gram's voice was subdued. Your mother is fully aware I would never leave you to deal with this alone.
As soon as Mom was gone, the witches in the hall began to filter out. They went with their heads down and their magic quiet, whispering among themselves, slinking away as if wishing they hadn't come to the conclave after all. There had been an almost festive feel to the group in the beginning, likely fed by curiosity. Now there was just doubt and shame.
We'll be missing a few tomorrow. No way were the majority coming back.
Gram's laugh was evil and harsh. They don't have a choice. She grunted, clearly angry. Their foolish nosiness has brought them into something they are now forced to witness.
Huh? What do you mean?
Gram's mental eye roll was a classic. The black parchment you signed with your magic. That wasn't some idle act. Your magic is now tied up with the rest of them. You could no more walk away from this trial than stop breathing.