by Phil Stern
“Don’t call them peasants!” Trying to take the sting from her rebuke, Tiffany smiled. “And you know...”
“Oh, lighten up, girl. There’s a hush buffer around our table. All anyone will hear more than two feet away is mumbling.”
Deliberately choking back an angry retort, the younger woman turned away. Back in the day, Susan had been one of the Coven’s most effective operatives. As a young girl, Tiffany could recall getting up before dawn to watch Susan and others of her generation ride off on yet another mission of mercy.
In later years, when she came to understand the full extent of her Coven sisters’ activities, Tiffany found that particular memory tinged with a hint of shame.
But that was then. Now in her early 40's, with an extra thirty pounds and a martini glass seemingly glued to her left hand, Susan appeared yet another bored, middle-aged dowager intent on wearing too much make-up and expensive clothes a half-size too small. Grinning coquettishly at a handsome waiter, her face fell almost comically when the young man coolly looked from the old warrior to Tiffany, his face expanding noticeably into a broad smile.
Waiting until the male server had passed, Tiffany leaned forward. “You know that in this world we’re not supposed to use magic unnecessarily.”
“Bollocks to that.” Having recently decided England was the most sophisticated culture on Earth, Susan had begun watching British television exclusively. “I don’t see any reason to restrict myself. Nor should you.”
“I just think...”
“Don’t do that, dear. It will give you worry lines.” Just then a gust of wind swept away a pile of napkins. Sighing, Susan cast a quick spell to hold everything down, then pointedly held up her now empty martini glass. “Where the hell is that girl with my drink?” Just then their waitress swept by with another martini, Susan eagerly gulping down half the glass.
“Maybe,” Tiffany gently suggested, “you should slow down on the alcohol.”
“What’s the matter? Does Miss Goody-two-shoes have a problem with a second cocktail?”
“All right, Susan.” Looking away a moment, Tiffany let her butter knife deliberately clatter to the bread plate. “Enough.”
Susan looked down at the butter knife, raising an eyebrow. The junior witch’s rudeness had been noted. “Enough of what, dear?”
Leaning forward, Tiffany held the other woman’s gaze. “What have I ever done to offend you?”
“My, my. Aren’t we touchy today?”
“Clearly, you resent me, as do many of our sisters.” Deliberately, Tiffany paused, letting the moment become uncomfortable. “I’d like to know why.”
Taking another thoughtful sip, Susan stared off over the Hudson. “Some of us find it...well, how do I say this? We find it odd, to be frank, that you don’t avail yourself of the advantages of your position.”
Picking up her fork, the brunette beauty began on her just delivered salad. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about...”
“I am.”
“Then I can tell you that I did act that way once.”
“Do tell!”
Angrily, Tiffany stabbed an unfortunate hunk of lettuce. “I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Oh, my dear girl!” Grinning wickedly, the senior witch unfolded a napkin. “There are counselors for that, you know.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
“Acting ‘that way’, as you rather pompously say, is both very enjoyable and very necessary,” Susan chided. “We need to have some fun. Not to mention that our Coven would wither and die in a generation if we didn’t.”
“I know.” Carefully, Tiffany eyed her lunch companion. “But there are moral considerations. We’re manipulating people.”
“Nonsense. We’re very selective in the men we choose. You know that.”
“I suppose.”
“No, dear, that’s not good enough.” Warming to her theme, Susan nodded knowingly. “That Colby character. Would he be a no good, cheating, wife-abusing son-of-a-bitch whether his daughter had power or not?”
“Probably.”
“Not probably. Definitely.” Taking a bite of bread, Susan continued. “The fact that some kindhearted, caring witch slept with him a few days before he impregnated his wife, thereby instilling in his loins a potent gift to be passed onto Bree, doesn’t change who he is, or how he would have acted.”
“I know all that,” Tiffany conceded. “But what if our intercession somehow changes these men? What if they might turn around, become good husbands and fathers, and we’re somehow...”
“Blasphemy!” Now it was Susan who dropped a fork with an ugly clang. “Don’t even say that!”
The two women locked gazes for several moments, Tiffany finally glancing away. “Look, let’s just drop it.”
“No, you listen to me, young lady.” Leaning forward, Susan unnecessarily lowered her voice. “Did you know that I was the one who took Mike Colby?”
“I suspected as much.”
“I found him in a bar, drunk, hitting on every woman there. And this was after sleeping with a law school classmate that afternoon!”
“All right.”
“Do you really think that kind of man changes on his own? Hmmm? Do you?” Holding up a knowing finger, Susan nodded. “They don’t. I was one more aimless encounter that did nothing for or against him. But I did give that worthless prick something to take home to his wife that changed both her and Bree’s life forever!”
“Fine.” Angrily, Tiffany sat back. “Look, I don’t mean to judge.”
“Then don’t,” Susan said. “If it wasn’t for us, and me in particular, Leanna Colby and her daughter would be living a life of misery, trapped forever with that asshole beating her night and day.”
“But to use men this way, to have them unwittingly create daughters who will soon leave them, in the process rendering them nearly impotent,” Tiffany continued. “What gives us the right to choose...”
“Choose? By the stone, girl, what are you talking about? Look at the choices these people make when left on their own!” Susan laughed. “These men choose to abuse their wives and often their daughters, while these stupid women choose to stay with them! We’re simply circumventing a pathetic cycle to give these girls, and their mothers, protection and love, followed by a life of power and purpose!”
“I know all this.” Tiffany paused. “But don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, some of these men, if left alone, would become good husbands and fathers?”
“No, I don’t,” Susan flatly declared. “Especially your own dear father, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
The jab hit home. Rising from the chair, Tiffany dropped her balled napkin on the table. “I think we’re done here.”
“You’re the strongest girl of your generation, Tiffany.” Leaning back, Susan sighed. “You’re in your prime. You could be doing so much good, if your head was in the right place.”
“Thanks for lunch.” Tiffany took a step away from the table. It wouldn’t do to get into a public squabble, especially with Susan’s lack of discretion...
“Tiffany, don’t go.”
Choking down her anger, Tiffany turned back. “Why not?”
“As much as you enjoy my company, this wasn’t a social call.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re needed back home.” Suddenly losing all pretense at gaiety, Susan looked out over the Hudson. “We’re all in danger.”
“Danger?” Slowly, Tiffany sat back down. “From what?”
“It would seem...” The older witch paused, finishing off her second drink. “That the men are making a comeback.”
***
AS ALWAYS, the gentle mist tingled against the young sorceress’ skin, drawn to her as would a lover following a long absence. Coalescing about her slender body, gentle tendrils of earth fire sparked off into the night, chased merrily by the swarm of glowing hummingbirds that guided her through the Boundary.
>
Off to one side walked a beautiful deer and her two young fawns, their tan coats flashing in the evening twilight. Some fifty feet to her other side was a regal unicorn, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings. Cool, crisp evening breezes made for a quick, invigorating pace.
So it had been for countless generations, the women of the Coven traversing this hazy intersection of worlds. Consisting of light woods and fields, the Boundary was stuck in permanent state of late evening. In fact, time or space had no meaning, Tiffany and her sisters unable to even guess whether they’d been traversing the Boundary for mere minutes or long hours. One simply walked into the mist, drew the hummingbirds to her with an earth stone, and then followed the delicate creatures to whatever dimension they were visiting. When returning to Haven, there were certain locations within each outer world that a sorceress could again summon the mist, creating a portal into the Boundary and home.
Little was known of the actual land itself. Geography and terrain constantly shifted, each journey seemingly covering an entirely different collection of hills, lakes, and streams. Many animals roamed the Boundary, including large, intelligent wolves with blood-red eyes. On rare occasion one tried to interpose themselves across an enchantress’ path, to be quickly chased off by an escorting unicorn.
As far as the Coven knew, the white-tailed deer were the only other creatures to regularly cross into other worlds, the mild-mannered animals often following a witch into the mist, both for companionship and protection, before heading off into another realm.
Though all contained human populations, each of the outer worlds bordering the Boundary varied greatly as to technology, mores, and magical knowledge. Some knew of the Coven and their activities, while others had no idea Tiffany and her sisters traveled among them.
For the sorceress’ themselves, adjusting to a completely different culture, and the specific dangers therein, took time and experience. Thus, each witch had to receive the approval of the Coven Elders before entering a hitherto unknown place, under the guidance of a more seasoned Coven-mate. In fact, witches were forbidden from even knowing the names of dimensions they weren’t yet permitted to visit. Since the hummingbirds would only take a witch somewhere if she could specifically tell them where to go, the stricture effectively blocked unauthorized travel.
Tiffany wasn’t sure how many outer worlds her sisters regularly visited. For her own part, she’d been to only four; Earth, in which she’d set up semi-permanent residence as a crisis counselor; Peth, a sparsely populated region featuring both magic and light technology; Rasten, a chaotic dimension where the Coven actively maintained the peace; and her birth world of Dytha, a futuristic society spread out among an entire solar system.
Raised on Dytha’s second planet, Tiffany’s father, a rich businessman, had become steadily more abusive toward his family. Sixteen years ago, after her mother was thrown down a stairwell, they’d been rescued by the Coven.
Finally, the mist thickened again, obliterating the landscape entirely. The unicorn and deer ambled out of earshot, while only a single hummingbird remained hovering right before Tiffany’s face. Finally, this last guide gave a satisfied chirp, rubbing up against her cheek before flying away. Taking a deep breath, Tiffany then took another dozen paces on her own, straight ahead, the fog dissipating to reveal an early morning forest. She was home.
Picking her way down a hillside, Tiffany made her way into the village itself, which sat beside a small river. As far as she knew, Haven consisted entirely of this large, pleasant valley and the surrounding mountains that bordered it on three sides. Down river was a broad, grassy plain, the water emptying out into a vast ocean. In every direction the mist quickly closed in, either transporting an experienced witch to another domain, or guiding a lost girl back to the village proper.
As a hub for an untold number of worlds, Haven was greatly varied in style and culture. Architecture ranged from the mundane to the exotic, usually reflecting the tastes of the occupant’s original land. As there were no vehicles to speak of, save a few wagons for transporting supplies from surrounding fields, streets consisted merely of soft grass. Food was plentiful, available through open-air markets and cafes. A huge, modern library provided books and computer access to the entire universe, a stern-eyed Elder ensuring each woman could only view information from the worlds she had been officially acquainted with.
Three types of people were encountered in Haven. Women of the Coven, empowered young girls in training to become a full sorceress, and the girl’s mothers, who had been rescued with their daughters by the Coven from abusive situations.
Generally, victimized mothers stayed in Haven temporarily, returning to a new life in their original world once their offspring reached 18. Upon leaving Haven for good, however, an Elder would wipe specific memories of the magical land from a woman’s mind. All that was retained were impressions of a safe, happy place, where she and her daughter had recovered and found their true destiny. Empowered daughters then traveled freely back and forth to their birth world, visiting their mothers often.
Alone among her sisters, Tiffany wasn’t in contact with her own mother, crossing back into Dytha only when business required.
Leaving the wood line, Tiffany strode into the outer town. As usual, flowers and plants of all varieties were on display. Pausing to chat with a woman whom she’d rescued three years before, Tiffany then stopped at her favorite pastry shop, where she quickly scanned the latest Haven Times. Run by a former newspaper editor, the eight-page weekly gave a rundown of all the latest happenings in town, including crop yields, poetry readings, art exhibits, and such. There was also a small section announcing arrivals and departures of victims and their daughters.
Given Susan’s bizarre warning, Haven seemed surprisingly, yet typically, idyllic. Thoughtfully picking up a box of croissants, Tiffany sauntered over to her own home, two blocks off the main street.
Since coming of age, Tiffany had shared this ultramodern house with two other girls, Keyla and Resa. Constructed entirely of shaded green and blue glass that absorbed sunlight, it bathed the inner living space in clean, natural illumination.
Pushing through the unlocked front door, however, Tiffany was instantly assailed by a desperate fear. Stunned by the extent of her housemate’s distress, she ran upstairs to find Resa sitting back against the wall of her bedroom, legs pulled up to her chest.
“Resa!” Sitting down beside her, Tiffany took the small blonde girl by the hand. “What’s the matter?”
“She’s gone, Tiff.” Eyes wide, Resa slowly shook her head. “He has her.”
“Who’s gone? What are you talking about?”
“Keyla. The wizard took her.” Gasping, Resa drew herself up even tighter. “That man will take us all, and I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it.”
***
“So that’s the situation,” Eleanor concluded, grimly looked out at her fellow witches. “If you have any questions, now is the time to ask.”
All seven Elders, in their traditional white robes, sat on the raised dais behind a large oak table. Before them sat six younger women, including Tiffany. As was the custom in the twenty-something generation, all six wore Terran-style jeans and boots.
“So our three sisters are gone?” asked April, sitting next to Tiffany.
“We’re not entirely sure,” admitted Eleanor, the Council Leader, motioning to the Elder beside her. “However, Barbara can usually sense when one of our kind dies, no matter what world they’re in, and she has not felt anything amiss. So we believe our sisters are still alive.”
“They’re captives, pawns of this man.” Another of the young witches, Zandra, just a year older than Tiffany, shook her head in disgust. “That is intolerable.”
“Indeed it is.” A steely edge permeated Eleanor’s voice, the Coven Leader pushing a lock of white hair back from her eyes. “Which is why the six of you are here.”
Only thrice, in the seven years since reaching her majority,
had Tiffany been in the presence of the Coven Council. Composed of seven women who’d worn their earth stones for a least a quarter-century, the council was elected every six years by all witches over the age of 30. It was a system designed to maintain the status quo, deliberately choking off official dissent from the younger members of the Coven.
The Council, of course, also controlled access to the other worlds, deciding which Coven member could travel where. As far as Tiffany was concerned, the entire scheme gave the illusion of democracy, when in fact the Elders, and the Council Leader in particular, ruled the Coven with an iron fist.
“But I don’t understand.” Urgently leaning forward, another of Tiffany’s age-mates, a pretty blonde named Brooke, pounded a fist into her palm. “How can there even be a wizard? Men cannot wield magic. This should not even be possible!”
“Which is all the more reason why we need to find and kill this man,” added another of the Elders.
Stunned, the younger women looked at each other. “But we don’t do that,”
April objected. “We’ve never actually killed anyone!”
“Not officially, anyway,” murmured Tiffany, staring up at the Council Leader.
After a moment of uncomfortably silence, Eleanor continued. “We have the moral right to act in self-defense. You six are the strongest of your generation. You can stop this sorcerer. And you will. ”
“Yes, but...” began Brooke.
“The Council is agreed,” Eleanor continued. “We will form three partnerships here today. Brooke and Amber, April and Marissa, Zandra and Tiffany. Together, you will seek out and destroy this threat.”
There was a moment of shocked silence, Eleanor letting her eyes fall on each of the younger women in turn.
“So we’re the shock troops.” Tiffany spoke softly, yet her voice resonated throughout the room.
“If you like.” Eleanor now turned her blazing gaze to her. “The Coven is under attack. Our sisters are in peril. We need to act.”