Cora (Of Earth or Erda)

by Skye, Relina

  According to the website, every five years, various supreme offices came up for elections. Each household had a council of witches and wizards who oversaw the day-to-day activities. But the High Council was comprised of members from all three households and met only once a month, whereas my council met weekly.

  Interestingly enough, any witch who decided to run for an office could be nominated, but first, they had to prove their powers were superior to the previous witch or wizard who held that office.

  However, in the case of Monica, her tenure in office ended after two years. Did she leave? Did she resign? Or did she die? Why was I the High Priestess, and not she? And what was the connection to my vision?

  When I looked up Rune Armstrong and the Silver Winds Coven, I learned they were no longer our allies. Again, there was no explanation provided, nor could I deduce what might have happened. And like the Silver Shore’s website, I could only gain access to public records that matched a witch or wizard's picture with their names, but said nothing about their bloodlines.

  "There you are!" My mother breezed into the room like a gust of wind. "I've been looking all over for you, and here you are playing computer games! Really, Cora, haven't you outgrown those yet?"

  Holding up the tablet, I showed her the coven's website. "I'm playing catch-up."

  "Monica Carmichael? Lovely woman. Such a tragedy." She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

  "What happened to her?" I gave her my full attention.

  "Murdered, as far as I know." She tried to look unaffected, but failed to mask it well. "I was already living up in Maine with the Silver Isles Coven when she passed away."

  "Murdered? By whom? Why?" I could feel the color draining from my face.

  "Despite all of our methods and magic, no one knows the answers to those questions. At least, the average witches and wizards don't. The National High Council sent an investigative team out here, and to the best of their knowledge, all they discovered was that it had to be another witch or wizard, and one much more powerful than Monica, herself. As far as rumors go, she was killed in her own bed, but there were no traces of her turning to dust."

  "That's awful." Was that the next scene my vision was going to show me before it was interrupted?

  "Well, it worked out for you, dear." She patted my shoulder. "You went to the trials, determined to find her killer, and became the new High Priestess instead."

  My brows shot up. "If there was no dust as evidence, then how do they know she was murdered?"

  "Besides using psychometric practitioners, whose touch should have shown them what happened but didn't. They also scryed for her remains by using some strands from her hairbrush, all they were only able to see were coyotes, mountain lions, and vultures." Her brows rose. "Anyway, enough of the past. There is no way to change it, or see what really happened unless the gods and goddesses choose to let you. What matters is the here and now; and you, young lady, are going to be late for your meeting with the Silver Isles delegation. Kacie is already there, as is your Scribe. Normally, the Archivist would be there as well, but she's already working on a project for the Crone and consequently, can't attend. Anyway, just follow your sister's lead. If the questions become too complex, I'll try to steer them away from you."

  Closing the tablet's screen, I stood up. It would have been nice if Kacie had previously informed me we were having a meeting. I could have done at least a little research on the Silver Isles Coven. "Who's with you?"

  "Oh, just the usual. The Crone and the Scribe. I'm the new acting liaison, since I was born and raised here," she stated with a tinge of pride in her voice.

  The terms scrolled through my mind as I tried to place what each person was responsible for, and not who they were. That made it easier to recall information. If I looked for personal information about each person, nothing materialized in my mind. The Scribe was responsible for taking notes during a meeting, while the Archivist specialized in the history of the coven. If we needed to know anything about what was done previously, that person was called upon to share whatever they discovered.

  As for the mention of the Crone, it made me believe that the Silver Isles was a smaller coven than ours. They also used a triplicate form of government that was female-based.

  In those sorts of covens, there were three ranking positions, starting with the Maiden, whose job is nearly identical to the one in my own coven. The Maiden becomes the next Mother, or leader, whose job is similar to a High Priestess. Lastly, the Crone, who was formally the Mother.

  Making our way to the elevator, I asked, "Have I met with them before?"

  "The Crone, yes, she's been around forever. The Scribe, no, he was only recently appointed. Zander Sterling is Martha's son. Unless he's called upon to speak, he won't say anything."

  "And Martha's the Crone?"

  "Of course, she is. There are only three people in our delegation." She looked at me like I asked a stupid question. "Just let Kacie do all of the talking."

  Nodding, I felt butterflies building up in my stomach, but I kept it together. Looking down at my midnight blue jeans, flannel, collared shirt, and sleeveless sweater vest, I only hoped I was dressed appropriately for this meeting. Although my mother would probably have let me know if I were underdressed, right?

  Entering the formal conference room on the ground floor, I found Kacie deep in conversation with a woman who did not look like a crone. If anything, she looked like a Victoria’s Secret supermodel in the prime of her career. Dressed in a fitted suit jacket and skirt with high heels that would make me fall on my face, I certainly felt intimidated.

  Turning her gaze toward me, the woman’s smile spread across her lips. “High Priestess, how good of you to join us! Kacie said you were feeling out of sorts.” Her gaze drifted down to my abdomen and then back up to my face as one of her brows rose. “Unfortunately, I’m not sensing what ‘out of sorts’ she was hinting at.” Her expression turned a bit hard toward my sister.

  Kacie didn't seem fazed; but our Scribe, whom I did not realize was Darla Jane, looked between the two of us with eyes as big as an owl's.

  The color rose to my cheeks. “Of course not. I apologize for the confusion. Normally, I save such hope for our high holidays with the help of one of our allies.” I allowed my gaze to briefly settle on Zander. To call Martha’s son handsome was an understatement. With a well-defined jaw line, a thick head of dark hair, and broad shoulders beneath the crisp suit he had on, he could easily stir up lustful feelings in any woman that breathed. But currently, his attention was on the screen of his computer and not the suggestive look I shot in his direction, which was actually a means of extending some good will towards his mother.

  Martha tilted her head as if reading something about me. My emotions? My sincerity? My body heat? I wasn’t sure. Turning my gaze to detect other people’s powers, I found thick ribbons of blue and green intertwining. Wisps of her ribbons rolled toward my person like an octopus's tentacles, grasping its way across the ocean floor.

  Glancing at Zander, I found his water magic much stronger than his earth magic, but there was also a mixture of red and yellow that comprised a smaller portion of his overall well of powers.

  “You’ll have to get in line, dear,” Martha finally spoke. “Or take a ticket, whatever the youth of today says?”

  Returning my gaze to normal, I nodded. “I understand. If he likes me, he likes me; if he doesn’t, then he doesn’t. I won’t get offended. Nor am I the type of person who would force myself on anyone who did not wish to be with me.”

  My mother placed her hands on my shoulders. “Humble, as always. You see, Martha, why I was shocked when I learned Cora was elected the High Priestess of this coven?” She gave me a slight squeeze. “Let’s sit.”

  Nodding. I moved to walk toward the head of the table, but my mother leaned in and whispered, “Not yours, Kacie’s.”

  I glanced at my mother once more and she gave my sister a pointed look before eyeing Zander. She mo
uthed, “Don’t ruin my negotiations.”

  Wow, I suddenly felt like hiding. Mother was already inciting a coupling between my sister and Martha’s son! It would have been nice if she told me about it before I stuck my foot in my mouth.

  As oblivious as Zander was to everything that was going on, I sensed Martha was not. I guess as the former leader of her coven, her powers were not as familiar to my mother, nor should they have been. Mother was an outsider. Perhaps as liaison, she felt it within her rights to try to create matches between our two covens. But that ended now. Once I regained my memories, I intended to monitor her “negotiations” a bit more closely.

  “Zander?” Martha gave her son a warm look.

  Raising his translucent, blue eyes from the screen to acknowledge his mother, he simply said, “Yes?”

  “Please read the agenda for today’s meeting.”

  “Right. We need to set the date of the arrival for our Beltane delegation, and verify our accommodations. We would also like to discuss the possibility of starting a student exchange program.”

  “April 30th, and yes, we will be able to support as many of your members as choose to join us. This year, our household is hosting the twenty-one-year-olds to the thirty-one-year-olds. How many new Tyros will you be sending?” Kacie asked.

  Martha folded her hands in front of her on the table. “Two. Twin boys.”

  “Good.” Kacie beamed a smile at her. “We have more young women than young men joining our coven this year. How many of your members will be joining them in their celebration?”

  “Eight, including Zander. He’ll be accompanied by our Purse Warden. That will make a total of six men and four women. Will any of your other allies be in attendance?”

  Kacie nodded. “Silver Hills is sending twenty-six members, while the Silver Cauldron is sending thirty-five.”

  “A good turnout.” My mother beamed. “Be sure to give Zander an attendance list along with copies of each man’s bloodlines, just in case our young women are blessed by the fertility goddess.”

  “Sure. I’m currently compiling our lists and should have them ready before your delegate returns home.”

  “Excellent.” Martha looked pleased enough.

  Personally, I didn’t think everything we discussed required a delegate’s presence here. Especially since their Scribe was more than capable of emailing us their questions. And if they required a personal touch, we could have Skyped the meeting over the internet. But I kept that to myself.

  Who knows? I pondered, maybe Martha would rather come in person to test our sincerity? Or maybe Martha wanted to meet Kacie before she agreed to allow her son to officially couple with her. Or maybe Mother just wanted an excuse to visit. Either way, they were here and we were taking care of business.

  “Will the ritual site be secure? We don’t want a repeat of the Beltane Massacre.” Martha’s expression saddened. “As you recall, we lost more than two-thirds of our membership during that attack.”

  “It is.” Kacie bowed her head slightly to honor the dead with respect. “Since that year, we’ve assigned the seniors and those who are already married to patrol the perimeter of the ritual site. We’ve also installed a fence with a motion sensor that will alert our Watchmen if anyone tries to enter our property.”

  “Good…” Martha absently nodded as if she were suddenly caught up in a memory.

  “Moving on,” I piped in, “you would like to start a student exchange program?”

  “Yes, it would be good for our youth to get to know our allies before they turn twenty-one.”

  Nodding slowly, I said, “I agree. However, I’d rather keep it restricted to our older children. Perhaps a small number of seventeen- to twenty-year-olds for half a year at a time? By that age, they should know what trades they might want to specialize in. Learning their chosen craft in a different environment will allow them to expand what they are already learning, as well as validate what they have already been taught.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I knew there was a reason why we were allies,” Martha beamed.

  “Just to be clear,” Kacie interrupted, “we have to run this by our council first. I’m sure everyone will want to express their opinion.”

  “Yes, yes, mere formalities. How about your students come up to our coven for six months, and then ours come down here? That way, they will know each other, and ours won’t feel overwhelmed by the size of your household.” Martha’s suggestion made sense. The children living in her coven wouldn’t know anyone from outside of their islands, and most likely, feel intimidated by the vastness of this place.

  "Well, I'm on the council, and I think it is a wonderful idea," Darla Jane volunteered. "You may want to have a chaperone or two accompanying the children. That way, they can still meet their required evaluations for graduation."

  “Again, we need to run this by our council. If they agree with us, we will have to ask the children and see how many are interested,” Kacie sounded a bit nervous, but that could have been because she feared I might give myself away.

  “Well, we have five children who are interested. They’re actually the ones who approached the Mother with that request.” Martha seemed indifferent, but at least, she was fair enough to allow us to chew on the possibility of an exchange program and whether it would work well for our youth.

  “And she was okay with their request?” Kacie sounded doubtful.

  “Not at first, but the youngsters were very persistent. Eventually, she saw the wisdom behind their idea.”

  “As do I.” I nodded.

  “Good. I expect to be kept in the loop as to what your council decides.”

  “Of course.” Kacie nodded. “Are there any other issues to discuss?”

  Martha’s eyes searched the empty space in front of her before turning toward Zander.

  Shaking his head, he kept his eyes on the monitor.

  Turning the conversation back towards us, Kacie asked them about things like increasing the amount of seafood they send us from twice a month to three times a month. Boring stuff. Again, all of that could have been requested in an email. Luckily, it only took about five more minutes before we were finished.

  As we concluded the meeting, lunch was brought in. We ate while my mother, Martha, and Kacie chit-chatted. Darla Jane eventually left, but Zander remained.

  The guy really wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but with a Mother as powerful as Martha, I wasn’t surprised. I wondered what he would say if he ever got the opportunity to be away from her. If I were lucky, I intended to find out, come Beltane. Too bad I couldn’t detect whether or not he had any tattoos. Then I could identify him even if he were wearing his mask. However, I’d already seen his powers in the Arcane Plane, and the pattern they formed was as good as a fingerprint.

  We left Martha and Zander on a positive note. Whether or not Martha could tell I was missing my memories, she did not let on.

  Upon returning alone to my apartment, I found Ben Fletcher patiently waiting for me in the living room. “I have a present for you,” he announced.

  “For me? You didn’t have to do that.” I was a bit taken aback. People just didn’t randomly give me stuff out of the blue.

  He held up a small bottle filled with green liquid. “You’re going to be under the influence of the spell for almost two weeks. This baby will help you physically survive without eating or drinking during that time.”

  I felt like smacking my forehead. "I didn’t even think about that. Thank you for looking out for me. I really appreciate it.” I sincerely meant it too.

  Ben gave me a slight bow. “My pleasure, High Priestess. Just be sure to drink this concoction before you start casting the spell.”

  Taking the potion in hand, I swirled it and gave it a closer look. It seemed to have tiny, little pieces of glitter mixed into it. I could only guess that was some of Ben's magic he added to the recipe. “I will.”

  “Everything will work out as it was meant to, Cora. Have faith that the
gods and goddesses will grant you access to your memories, and this place won't fall apart without you.” He embraced me. Inhaling his scent, I gave him an extra squeeze. Pulling back, our eyes met. “Now, I’ll leave you to it.” Kissing the top of my head, he took a step back, adding, “Good luck.”

  “Thank you for everything."

  As he left, my stomach clenched. Mentally, I knew the anxiety I was feeling was due to the uncertainty of my situation. But while he waited for the elevator, I promised myself I’d get to know him better. Who knows? Maybe he could teach me a thing or two about potions.

  When the doors finally opened, my mother and sister appeared. They stepped off before Ben got on.

  Once the doors were closed, my mother said, "What was that all about? Is everyone all right?"

  Nodding, I simply said, "He just wanted to wish me good luck."

  A slim brow rose. "You do realize he's old enough to be your father."

  "Oh, my gosh, Mother! I'm allowed to make friends." I felt my cheeks warming despite doing my best to not feel embarrassed.

  "Don't worry, Mom. Ben doesn't feel that way about her." Kacie gave her a pointed look.

  Straightening her shoulders, she replied, "Sometimes I forget you’re an empath.” She graced my sister with her best smile.

  "It's getting late," I reminded them as I slid Ben’s potion into one of my large pockets. "I still need to set up the casting circle with the rest of this stuff.” Bending down, I picked up a box filled with the items that were collected from the council members along with several boxes of necessary ingredients for casting the spell.

  Kacie and my mother helped me carry the remaining boxes into the library and down into the panic room off the ground floor. Guarding the three floors overflowing with books were large statues. One was half man/half ibis, another was a woman with a helmet and shield bearing a owl on it, another one had an elephant head, another was a heavily armored man with one eye squinting, and the last was an elderly man with long hair wearing heavy robes. Gods and goddesses of wisdom and knowledge, they were all patrons of learning and we honored them by keeping them close to us whenever we read and studied there.