by Hadena James
“Prunella,” I smiled back at her.
“I’ve been hearing some very disturbing rumors. I’m guessing that since you are here, they aren’t rumors,” she spoke with a thick accent, but like her nephew, she spoke perfect English.
“They aren’t rumors and yes, that’s why we are here,” I told her.
She opened the door to us. I followed her into her time capsule. Witches are not naturally immortal, but they do live significantly longer than normal Humans. Prunella had been old when the Elders had come out of hiding. I guessed she was somewhere around one hundred and twenty years old. I had never asked. She continued to age slowly and gracefully. When her heir came of age, she would probably lie down, close her eyes for an afternoon nap and pass just as quietly as she had lived.
We all followed Prunella into a formal sitting room. The curtains and wallpaper were something out of a Victorian magazine, but the furniture was surprisingly modern. A sectional couch with recliners was the dominate piece. There were also a couple of chairs and a sofa.
I took a spot close to Prunella on the sectional. There was a space between us where a table with a cubby hole was built into the sectional. It was littered with cigarette boxes and candy wrappers. It was the only “messy” spot in the entire room. I looked around and found a TV hidden in an entertainment system. It had a lifting system that brought the TV into view and then hid it again. I was guessing Prunella spent a lot of nights here.
“Prunella, have you ever seen anything like what is going on now?” I asked the ancient Matriarch.
“Not personally,” she sighed and looked at me, “mind you, I’ve seen a lot in my day. But nothing like this. Even the worst dictators couldn’t amass a rogue coven. They tried. We all hide then, Great House and Lesser Witches alike. You know during both wars, we used this house as a safe haven for Witches? We were so relieved when the Elders came out and joined the side of the Allies. Then we got stuck behind that pointless wall and yet again the house became a safe haven for Witches fleeing from the Soviets.”
“But a rogue coven of this size and strength?” I pressed.
“Never. I can’t even begin to imagine who is behind it or why. My guess, whoever it is thinks that Elders have served their purpose and should go back to wherever they came from. They don’t know about the days before the Elders. They must be young.”
“The leader?”
“No, the whole Coven,” she shook her head.
“Why?”
“You are too young to remember what it was like to be a Witch before the Elders came out. We were constantly hiding from Theosophists, occult leaders and dictators who wanted to rule the world. Then there was the Vril Society and the Templars and the Church, all of the churches. To be suspected as a real Witch was something terrifying. Most of us were recluses, to say the least. The Matriarchs were usually locked up, hidden away, in order to ensure that nothing happened to the Great House or the Coven. We lost Great Houses because of Matriarchs being murdered without someone to carry on. When the Elders entered into our world, integrated into our world, we could come out of hiding. Establish ourselves as real people, beings imbued with magic, but we still had to go grocery shopping, still attended church, drove cars, not brooms. By trying to tear apart the Elders in our society, to turn Humans against them, they are also turning Humans against Witches. Obviously, to be so stupid, they must be very young indeed.”
I hadn’t considered that. I hung my head. Eli cleared his throat.
“We think Jasmine Strachan has something to do with it,” I took Eli’s cue and continued, trying to ignore the twisted feeling in my gut.
“That girl was always bad,” Prunella looked directly at me, “I know she’s your blood and I understand your reluctance to do anything to her as a result. But take my word, that girl was always bad. She must have a chunk of flint where her heart should be.”
“Sadly, we know,” I told her, “but you said they must all be young. Too young to remember life before the Elders. Do you mean that they’re young in age or in intellect?”
“Both probably. I understand Magnus developing a small coven of bad Witches. It never set right that he became immortal at forty. He knew what it meant, but tried to ignore it. He was a few years older than me. He watched me age after he stopped and it left him bitter. But this group, this group is nothing like his. This group doesn’t want to get back at the Elders for someone becoming immortal. They want to get back at the world. Like it has done them some great injustice. When you find this lot, Brenna, you’ll see that they all have chips on their shoulders and think Witches should be ruling the universe.”
“Witches have a hard enough time ruling themselves,” a young woman entered, carrying an infant. I put her at roughly my age.
“This is my successor,” Prunella held out her hands to the baby.
The young woman’s aura announced that she was a Lesser Witch that had become part of a Great House. The only conclusion was that she was the wife our police officer had been talking about.
“Lizette,” she shook my hand.
“Brenna Strachan,” I told her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Brenna. I hear you are here to protect us from this madness.”
“That’s the theory.” I gave her a small smile.
She was an American.
Chapter Nine
“They’ve hit St. Petersburg and we have news coming in from Dublin that the Matriarch was killed and most of the coven destroyed,” the police officer from earlier joined us, he put his arm around his wife.
“And the heirs?”
“Gone with the Matriarch,” he looked at the floor for a moment.
“Another Great House gone,” Prunella interrupted the silence that followed this announcement.
“Probably,” her nephew looked at her.
I dug out my cell phone and called Morgana. It rang until it went to voicemail. I hung up and tried again.
“What?” She yelled when she finally answered.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Dublin,” she sounded like she was in the middle of something.
“When you kill whatever it is you are fighting, call me back with a status report,” I hung up and left her to work.
“Morgana?” Anubis asked.
“Yes, dad sent her to Dublin. Along with several members of the Fey and a few other Elders.”
“So it could be true,” Prunella said.
“I won’t jump the gun on that. I’ll wait to hear it from Morgana.”
“Morgana LeFey,” Prunella smiled.
“Fond memories of Morgana?” I asked.
“We all have fond memories of Morgana. She was quite the barbarian when it came to battle. I remember her and a half dozen other Elders storming into Berlin. They created such a spectacle. She personally tore down the fence at Buchenwald with Lucifer. I remember as they marched further into the city, I went running out to greet them. Morgana asked me for a couple of potions. I gave them to her.”
“I recommend we hide the baby,” Eli said.
“Good plan,” I looked at Prunella and her heir.
“I know; she needs to disappear for a while. If they are right about Dublin, we can’t afford to lose another Great House. It could take centuries, maybe millennia, for another to spring up,” she handed the baby back to Lizette and gave her instructions in German. Her nephew looked concerned, but the two of them left the room, baby wrapped in their arms.
“Brenna, do you have a plan?” Prunella asked as the others left the room.
“Not really. Until we know what is going to be sent, it’s hard to make a plan. We’ve brought earplugs in case of sirens. But there isn’t much preparing we can do other than that.”
“So far, they haven’t used a mythical creature more than once,” Prunella hit a button.
The invisible TV came out of the entertainment system. A news reporter was talking very quickly in German. In the background, I could see they were in St. Pet
ersburg. And it was bad.
I recognized a group of gremlins as they scurried past the camera. They were carrying a cursed item. It was spitting magic out from all directions. Every time it hit someone, the gremlins cheered. The person involved had a much different reaction. They turned into mules and began braying at the gremlins and trying to stamp on them.
“Gremlins in St. Petersburg. Skinwalkers in Dublin. That seems random,” Fenrir stared at the screen.
“Like they are trying harder to get to some houses than others,” Anubis agreed.
“That brings it up to seven Great House attacks. There are only three left,” I looked at Eli.
“Think we’re next?” He looked back at me.
“Us? Or Berlin?” I corrected.
“I meant us. Rachel with Trent. Mom and Hannah both pregnant. A couple dozen other pregnant Elders,” Eli said.
“I don’t know. I don’t know why they wouldn’t attack us first.”
“Spread out the troops,” Anubis answered. “Attacking the heart of Elder country first, to get at its Witches, is not tactically smart. Spreading out the forces is. Spread them out then go in for the kill.”
“Why is it always our family that is the crown jewels?” Nick asked.
“Because yours is the first to integrate with the Elders,” Prunella told him.
“They have to get others away in hopes of weakening you before they can attack,” Anubis looked at me. “I’d say Berlin and Sydney are next. KC last. If they are really smart, they will coordinate all three to take place at the same time.”
“If they are really smart, they will send dragons, wyverns and griffins in the next waves. Fireworms are scary, harpies and sirens horrid, but the other three, those are real man-eaters,” Ba’al told me
“Griffins are normally docile,” I answered.
“Yes, but every species can be encouraged to rage. That is the problem with the mythical species. They don’t have the fight or flight instincts of the non-mythics. That is why we keep them on the Island,” Anubis told me.
“They only have the instinct to fight,” I thought about that for a minute. Did I prepare for dragons, wyverns or griffins? What was the best way to prepare for them? I had the Strachan sword and a small coven.
There was a commotion outside. Carefully, I stood up and looked through the front window. Outside was a group of people, all dressed in long black robes. Had the situation been slightly different, meaning there wasn’t a horde of griffins with them, it might have been comical.
They were the perfect representation of death. Each even carried a scythe. Each wore a hood that covered their faces.
The griffins were not moving. This was more ideal than dragons or wyverns, less idea than some of the other options. Chimeras would have been best. I could have easily convinced Gregorian to help us and not them.
The thought brought Gregorian’s voice into my head. It always did. We had become telepathically linked. I dismissed it and turned my attention back to the figures outside the window.
The figures were now moving. The robes made them shimmer in the sunlight, as if they were made of black smoke flecked with diamonds. The vision was surreal and magical, but not any magic I had ever encountered.
“What is that?” I finally asked.
“That is what revolutionaries look like,” Anubis joined me at the window.
“Tell me you’re kidding,” Gabriel jumped from the couch and ran over to the window.
“Not kidding,” Anubis answered.
“Revolutionaries?” I frowned at them.
“Witches have staged uprisings, in the past,” Prunella joined us. “From what I understand, that’s the garb they wear for such an occasion.”
“Why here?” I prodded.
“Because I have the weakest house,” Prunella moved from the window. “Revolutionaries are not what you think. We use it as a term for Witches that are determined to rise up and overthrow Humans. The Great Houses have always had a tenuous, but amicable relationship with Humans. If we don’t bring down a wrath of magic on them, they don’t burn us at the stake as Witches. However, Witches, Great House and Lesser, have banded together to throw off the relationship and take what they consider to be their place as higher beings than the Humans.”
“And since Witches can impact Elders in magical ways, they have risen up a time or two against us as well,” Anubis looked at the older Witch.
“Wait, this isn’t a new thing?” Eli asked.
“No, they call themselves ‘The Righteous Ones’. The last time they staged an uprising, they were ferried away from the public,” Prunella looked at me. “The sect should have died out, not gained popularity.”
“When was the last uprising?”
“1940, just before the Elders joined the War,” Prunella had paled visibly.
“Where were they taken?” I pressed.
“The Island or rather, the Prison on the Island,” Ba’al joined us.
“Where Jasmine is?”
“Uh-huh,” Gabriel continued to stare out the window.
“So, you put my sister in a prison that already had a bunch of twisted, psychopathic Witches in it and you didn’t think it would be a problem?”
“We didn’t think Jasmine would have much influence. We didn’t know she could invade dreams,” Gabriel defended their decision.
“Well, now we know. We are going to have to do something.”
“You could kill her,” Anubis offered.
“We’ll have to do something else,” I told him.
“I think we’ll have to deal with these first,” Ba’al pointed.
The griffins were moving. Their front talons made an audible clacking noise on the concrete.
Real griffins do not look like the things in the Pre-Merge text books. They do have eagle-like talons and wings, but that would be an understatement of their size. They were taller than even the tallest hooded figure. Their girth was enormous, heavy bodies full of muscles and covered with a deep honey-colored fur. They have beaks and ears and a tail. They also have a mane. However, the tail, mane, ears and fur are the only thing even close to resembling a lion. They are mostly bird and I understood that their beaks had massive crushing force. I also understood that their talons would be like razor edged grappling hooks if they grabbed you.
The robed figures began to sway back and forth.
“What are they doing?” I asked Prunella.
“Chanting, trying to keep the griffins hypnotized.”
“You can hypnotize a griffin?”
“Most animals, mythic or otherwise, can be hypnotized. Griffins are not easy to hypnotize, but once it happens, they’re capable of great violence. As I said earlier, all animals have a weakness. This is theirs,” Anubis said to me.
“How do we unhypnotize them?”
“That is a good question,” Ba’al answered.
“But you don’t have an answer.”
“No.”
“Great, I’m open to suggestions,” I looked around.
“Bad guys and evil animals seem to be your thing, sis,” Eli told me.
“Daniel, do you think a fire-bath would help?”
“Anything is possible,” Daniel began to concentrate. His skin began to glow so faintly, it was hard to notice without staring directly at him.
“We really need an Elemental for this,” Anubis moved away from the window.
“Well, I don’t have an Elemental. I have a Witch/Demon half-breed that can rain fire, Eli, Samuel and myself. Since calling blood from a griffin doesn’t seem like a good plan and inflicting them with lots of pain doesn’t seem like a good plan...” I spread my arms wide.
“Point taken,” Anubis looked at me, “but we could burn the house down.”
“We could and it would suck, but it might also scatter the mesmerizing Witches. If we can do that, maybe the griffins won’t try to tear us to shreds.”
“That was actually well thought out,” Anubis didn’t give out compliments eas
ily or often.
Fireballs began to rain down from the sky. They bounced onto the streets. I took hold of Eli and Samuel. We would need some protection for the house.
The three of us began pouring magic out. The house resisted. Samuel grabbed Prunella and we began again. This time, the house was more accepting. It took the magic. I could no longer hear the fire hitting the eaves.
The Witches stayed as they were. The fireballs bounced off of an invisible barrier that surrounded them. I hadn’t considered they might have the same idea as me. The fire flowed down the streets.
“It isn’t working,” Ba’al told me.
“I know,” I snapped at him. “Daniel, stop.”
“Shit,” Nick looked out the window, “they threw up protection spells over themselves.”
“Watch your language,” Eli only half-heartedly scolded our younger brother.
“Nick?” I pleaded with him.
“There isn’t anything dead yet,” Nick shrugged.
“We’re going to have to kill a few, see if that helps,” Fenrir was already beginning to shift.
“Outside!” I yelled at him. He looked at me with yellow eyes.
“You are not going to get that goo all over her carpets,” I pointed towards the backdoor.
Fenrir slinked to the back. Anubis rolled his eyes at me. I glared at him.
“It’s gross.”
“We have other things to worry about,” Anubis told me.
“Yeah, but if we survive, I don’t want to try to get Fenrir goo out of carpets older than the my mother.”
“That’s a big if at the moment,” Gabriel was starting to become translucent. I wasn’t sure what he was building magic for, but I was pretty sure it was bad. I looked back outside. One of the figures was removing its hood.
She was tall with blue eyes and long blond hair braided, pulling it tight against her scalp. Her hands and wrists were slender. As was her face. She was attractive, but not beautiful.
“Come on out, Prunella. Your cheap tricks won’t work on us and you know it,” she shouted.
Simona Illayanevna Yockivic, I recognized her. She was a Witch from the Great House in Russia. I had met her maybe twice in the past, both for very brief periods. She wasn’t in line to be a Matriarch.