As we walk in I see Hatchesput and Hexabus over with a group of our sisters. On seeing us enter Hatchesput is immediately on to us.
“Welcome girls, good to see you both, I take it that this is our Susan?”
“Yes, your Supreme Evaility. This is her.”
Hatchesput eyes her up and down a couple of times, but apparently she passes muster.
“No hiding that streak of white she has going is there?”
Pulania and I put on our best faux evil smiles. “No ma’am there isn’t.”
“Never mind, we’ll look after you, dear.”
Oh shit, she called Gil, dear. That’s not a good sign.
“Pulania, I got your email. You two fecked up eggheads have done really well. I’m very excited about this new disease you’ve cooked up between yourselves. It was a bit late for this year, given that there was only a couple of days left and we’d already had the cup engraved.”
We look up to the front where the brass ‘Witch of the Year’ cup has the word Hexabus, engraved in blood red letters. Easily visible even from the 10 or 12 metres we’re standing from the hall stage.
“Never you mind though, we’re holding this entry over to next year, if nothing else comes through that’s better, and I doubt anything will, then you’re a shoe in. I think , if anything, you’ve probably underestimated the misery that this will cause. I’m sure we’re looking at fatalities related to suicides, murders and what have you that will add to this basic sterility thing, though we’ve checked the numbers, and you’re right it’s definitely in the millions.” There was a big smile on her face as she said that.
“This is going to bring us an international reputation within the dark covens. You’ll both get ‘Witch of the Month’ for February too, that’s already been decided, so congratulations, that’s a brilliant bit of evil doing, a real credit to the coven,” Hatchesput finishes.
Wow, witch of the month! You’d need a crowbar to get the smiles off Pulania and my faces.
“By the way, I like your new look, Amura.” Bonus!
Chapter 45: Bound in blood
We’d passed muster with her Supreme Evality, she hadn’t picked Gil as an imposter. Pulania and I were keeping a subtle sweep of our auras around her, and the glow of the holy water was being taken as white magik, as we’d hoped. After introducing Gil as Susan to a few of the friendlier coven members, we melted into a corner not too far from one of the exits, staking our claim to the site nearest the drinks server, a compulsed drunken Scot, who, if he survived the night, would probably find himself in the gutter at the opposite end of town with no memory of how he’d spent the night. That might be just as well from his perspective, since he might not want to remember some of the coven members he would be servicing that evening.
After a while the main event started up with a scroll of coven pipes and a drummer coming in from the far end of the hall. The lights were turned off, so that only candlelight marked their way among the ring of the coven. The kettle drum was actually being played by the humerus bones of James. Following that, on velvet cushions, were brought out his other bones, and finally at the very end of the procession Hatchesput carried the great skull chalice, filled with red wine, for all to drink from.
The pipes played a death dirge in reverence to those coven members who had been murdered in the middle ages, still within the living memory of many of the women there. When finally the playing came to its solemn end in the centre of the room, a moment of silence ensued, and then the lights came on.
“Haha! Play ye, with the bones of ‘good’ King Jimmy!” Hatchesput called as she took a swig from his skull, the red wine dripping down her cheeks. The cushion bearers flung his bones to the crowd surrounding the edge of the hall. There were wild shrill callings and jeers, as everyone scrambled for their favourite part of Jimmy. Pulania managed to grab hold of what might have been an ankle bone, and began stirring her cocktail with it. James long broken pelvis was brutalised in unmentionable ways by some of the grosser members of the coven. Tibias were used as bottom scratchers, as was traditional – you never used a tibia for stirring your food.
Behind Pulania, I whisper to Gil, telling her to text her boyfriend to be ready. Then I start letting out my own jeers, as expected. Actually, I’m wondering if I can get enough knuckles to play knucklebone? But then, I notice Hatchesput and Hexabus coming over to us with the chalice, and Hatchesput has her dagger poorly hidden. She’s too drunk to be subtle. This is it. A half dozen other sisters are slowly making their way with the two.
“Be ready, they’re coming,” I tell Gil. Pulania has seen them as well. I’m a bit nervous, but there’s an eerie calm about Pulania and I notice a satisfied smile on her face, like a lioness about to pounce on her prey. We both step in front of Gil. We’ve got our backs to a corner, it’s a good place to be if there’s going to be a fight.
“Time for the sacrifice, egg heads. Move aside, the white witch is for the knife,” Hatchesput calls, and the hall has gone quiet as everyone realises that something unusual is about to happen.
“We don’t have sacrifices at Imbolic, your Supreme Evaility. Ever,” Pulania replies.
Hatchesput seems momentarily confused by this.
“You wanted to bring Susan into the coven, your Supreme Evaility,” I try to remind her.
“When’s date or place ever stopped a good sacrifice?” Hexabus calls out, “step aside. It’s time to see what colour blood a white witch has.”
“The covenant protects her, you bitch,” whoops, went a bit far there, but she’s got my anger up. I’ve unfurled some pretty awesome black aura with that too, so has Pulania. I think we’ve made it pretty clear we’re going to make a stand against this.
“She’s not claimed, there’s no one left in her coven.”
“And how would you know that?” Pulania jumps on Hexabus’ slip. “She has a living aunt who can claim her for the whites.”
I take a quick glance at Hatchesput, but she’s just swaying there, with a slight glaze in her eyes. Oh great, she’s under compulsion.
Hexabus seems surprised that there’s an aunt to claim Susan, she obviously thought otherwise, but she quickly recovers, “who cares, she’s ours now, to do with as we want. I say,” and she raises her voice, turning to the rest of the coven, “that it’s time for a sacrifice!”
She’s goading on some of the others, but not all of them, some of them are wondering what the heck is going on. They know that this isn’t quite right.
She turns back to us. “Step aside, or we’ll make it a threesome.” And there, just for a second I see it, a glint of orange from Hexabus’ eyes. I think Pulania picked up on it too, she just glanced over at me.
I spread my wings, momentarily allowing them to be visible in the real world. “Just try it bitch.” And I glitz back in blue. Let’s see how they take a fury being in their midst.
Some of the coven saw that, I can see the hesitation in their eyes, some are even stepping back a bit and pulling their friends back. A few are too drunk to know anything more than the blood lust.
Then it all unleashes, with a quick signal from her hand, Hexabus calls out her cronies, who launch in the time warped attack of the dark covens. But they’re not fighting mortals, we can do the same. I spring into the air cutting off the head of one switched bitch. Pulania has just cut another through the chest, casting her to the side. Gil is doing what we told her to do, just spray that Holy shizz everywhere, wide spray.
There are black blurs unfurling at us from all over. In my periphery I notice that Hexabus is staying clear of the fight, not risking herself, while Hatchesput only just seems to be realising what’s going on. I’m swatting dark figures away from Gil with my wings, we’re being swamped. But then from the sides of the halls the Raven’s break in with guns blazing overhead.
Everyone has dropped to the floor, they could feel the silver whizzing over their heads. Apart from the Ravens, the only people left standing, are Pulania, Hatchesput, Hexabus, my
self and the barman, who has just taken a giant swig of scotch.
Gil is on the ground, but squatting with her water cannon at the ready, I don’t think she’s hurt. In the space between the coven and ourselves, there are at least three burning corpses where Gil’s water pistols did their work, and three or four other bodies, which Pulania and I added to the tally. There are other injuries about the place, cuts and broken bones. Pulania has a pretty savage cut on her shoulder. There are burns from Gil’s water pistol among the coven members too.
“What have you done!” Hatchesput accuses us, apparently free from whatever compulsion had fogged her mind.
“Susan is a daughter of Gaea!” Pulania lashes back.
From somewhere near my ear I hear a whisper. “Tell your friend Gil to drop into cat form as soon as she goes forward.”
I nod my head.
There’s another respite as people take in Pulania’s proclamation. I can see that most of the coven is puzzled by what Pulania means, but a few seem to know. I think Hatchesput is one of them.
“What? That can’t be true,” Hatchesput says in a softer tone.
“It is. Come forward, Susan.” Pulania beckons her forward.
Drop to a cat when you pass us. I scream at Gil with my thoughts. Her eyes go wide, and she nods her head once. Slowly she gets up to present to Hatchesput, walking out beyond the protection of myself and Pulania. I’m watching Hexabus. Now. I scream at Gil. A blur of black shadow rushes to where the human form of Susan had been, but Hexabus hesitates when she gets there, dagger in hand with no target to strike. She never even noticed the small black cat that raced back to my legs.
Now he’s appeared, passing around from behind me, the shadow of my father takes worldly form, the horror in the eyes of Hexabus is obvious. She freezes for only a second, then from behind her, a dagger slices between her ribs.
“Bring the chalice,” holding her life-long friend, Hexabus, Hatchesput nods her head toward where the chalice is on the floor.
My father is nowhere in sight. He was only there for the briefest of moments. I walk over the few feet to where the rest of the coven lies cowering. I grab the chalice and hold it out toward Hatchesput.
“Hold it ready,” she commands me, and pulls the dagger from Hexabus back, so that she can draw the blade across the traitor’s neck.
I catch the spurt of blood so that it fills the chalice. Almost a litre pumps out, and then the vile black of the demon chokes out of Hexabus’ mouth and nose, dissipating into the ether. When the chalice is full, Hatchesput drops the body and takes the chalice from my hand. She takes a sip of the blood, then she hesitates eyeing me off.
“Nice wings. They’re dark.”
“I’m not an angel,” I reply.
“No, you’re not. I’ve always wondered about you two egg heads. You’re not witches, are you?”
Pulania and I just shake our heads, but there’s still an evil glint in our eyes.
“You’re still dark though,” she holds the cup out to me. “Drink, Amura.”
I don’t hesitate for a second, I take a sip of the warm frothed blood that just filled the cup. Then Hatchesput turns to Pulania.
“Drink, Pulania.”
Nor does Pulania hesitate, she comes forward and sips from the cup, handing it back to Hatchesput when she’s finished.
“Where’s Susan?” Hatchesput asks.
The cat that was hiding behind me morphs into her human form, but it it’s her true human form, not that of Susan.
Hatchesput starts, “smart, not risking Susan. This is Gil, isn’t it?”
“Yes, your supreme evality,” I answer.
Hatchesput offers the cup toward Gil. “Drink Gil.”
At my nod she comes forward and takes a tentative sip, grimacing as she does so. Then Hatchesput takes the chalice back and downs the rest. The ritual of bonding is complete. We are confirmed as sisters.
Chapter 46: Witch of the year
“The covenant will be upheld.” Hatchesput calls out as she turns to the rest of the coven, who are slowly rising up from the floor. “We are bound to protect Susan, the daughter of Gaea, our own lives depend on it.” Then looking back around she speaks to just us, “wherever the hell you have her stashed. A good thing that you egg heads didn’t bring her here.”
Pulania, wrapping a cloth around her arm, nods. “We’re not silly bitches.”
“No,” Hatchesput’s eyes drop to the ground, “but maybe I was, not realising a demon had taken poor Hexabus like that.”
Hatchesput eyes off the Witch of the Year cup up on the stage for a second, hand on her stubbly chin. Then she seems to make a decision, going forward, dagger in hand, she begins vandalising the front of the cup in a way that none of us can really see. When she turns back to us, she’s carrying the cup.
“Everyone, please be upstanding, find yourselves a drink as we toast, Pulania, Amura and their familiar Gil, witches of the year.”
My jaw drops open, but Gil hands both Pulania and I our drinks, which had somehow miraculously survived on the table near the barman.
“To Pulania, Amura, and Gil, whose evil doing, in creating a virus that will affect millions; in killing their own coven sisters, and in freeing me from compulsion, has saved us all from extinction. And to anyone who doesn’t understand that, just toast, we’ll explain it later. To Pulania, Amura and Gil,” she calls out.
“To Pulania, Amura and Gil,” the others toast us, and when we’re finished Hatchesput hands me the trophy, the plaque with Hexabus name roughly hacked away, and with our own names scratched into the metal surface where the plaque had once been, a smear of blood wiped over it (I’m not sure if that’s Hatchesput’s or Hexabus’) to make it official.
Hatchesput, and the half dozen or so who have kept up with what’s going on start clapping us. After a second, the Ravens, cooly standing at the sides of the hall, join in with Gil’s boyfriend, Jonathon, leading them. Pretty soon the rest of the coven has joined in as well, and as they warm to the clapping cheers break out. Soon, our coven sisters are stepping over the blood and bodies to congratulate us. Explanations are given to those who didn’t understand what a daughter of Gaea is, and the Ravens slowly withdraw at Jonathon’s signal.
After a bit, when I’m free of the others, Jonathon steps up and discreetly whispers in my ear. “We’ll take care of this mess, Miss. Amura. Please don’t worry about it.” He means the bodies, of course.
“Thank you, Jonathon,” I whisper back, and I’m glad I’ve remembered his name. “The party might not finish yet, though. We’re a pretty hardy lot, it’s going to take a bit more than a few bodies to stop us from celebrating Imbolc.”
“Hmm, well, perhaps we can help with that.”
Chapter 47: The cups
Jonathon was good enough to move us to a different hall within the castle, with free booze and with our food moved to a central banquet table, while the other hall was ‘cleaned’. The rest of the night was a bit staid. Jimmy’s bones were kindly put at the table as ornaments, but with such deep losses to the coven, no one was interested in croquet. Some of the girls who had died following Hexabus had been with the coven for centuries.
There was no blame attached to us, since no one who survived had close ties to those who died. Everyone came to understand the situation, but still, when old acquaintants die, it’s time to reminisce. A few old songs were sung. Good food, good drink, and when dawn approached, the remaining coven members went to greet the sun. Somewhere not far from us, the fake coven was casting some strange ritual of its own, but I’m pretty sure not one of them threw up on the castle walls at the suns first light.
Staggering footsteps went in their own directions after that. I have some vague recollection of Jonathon and some of the Ravens, and maybe Master too, helping us back to the limo. In fact, I think the Ravens were good enough to help quite a few of the coven to hotel rooms. All at royal expense.
Arggh, I feel horrible now. I think it’s about three in the
afternoon. I’m not even sure how I got into bed. If Master and I did anything, I don’t remember it. Actually, even if I was keen, I doubt If he would have been interested, he’s not the type to take advantage.
What’s this hard thing beside me though, oh, it’s the cup. Aarrh. That’s got to go on the mantelpiece. After I dress, I stagger toward the general direction of the stairs. They’re a bit of a challenge though. In the end I have to sit on the steps and bum shuffle down one at a time with this bloody cup thing on my lap. It’s got a fair bit of weight to it, and I don’t want to fall to my death.
“Ouch.” the edge of the cup cuts into my thigh as I get near the bottom step.
“Serves you right for wanting to sleep with the cup rather than me,” Master yells out from the sitting room.
Like really, that’s what happened? Oh, I guess it did, he’s an angel, he can’t lie.
“A little bit of help, please,” I yell back.
He comes around the corner. Why has he always got that goofy smirk on his face? Grabbing the cup in one hand he picks my up with his other arm.
“My hero,” I whisper into his shirt, as he takes me and deposits me on a sofa in the sitting room.
The others are already up. Pulania looks as bad as I feel, and Gil is just flaked out on the floor, her arm over her eyes. I’m not even sure she’s alive.
“Here.” A muffled voice whispers from the arm, okay she’s alive.
Near the fireplace where the wood fire has been superseded by gas, Teddy puts the cup up on the end of the mantelpiece.
“No, put it in the middle,” I direct. “It’ll look funny on the end.”
“Really?” Teddy asks.
And… I’m seeing double, there’s another cup at the other end of the mantel.
The Dark Witch Page 18