Cora (Of Earth or Erda)

by Skye, Relina

  The Watchmen were also responsible for transporting the sacred artifacts of the Winds and Shore covens to the National Headquarters. Along with taking a percentage of the treasury as compensation for the Watchmen’s assistance during these difficult times, what little funds remained were divided between my allies and the covens that harbored the refugee witches. As for each coven's property, all possessions were to be auctioned off during the Solstice. National felt this gave large covens the opportunity to either expand, or divide into smaller covens or households.

  With Beltane only a couple of days away, Martha agreed to wait until after the festival before she declared me an exiled witch.

  A kind gesture. It allowed me to help her, the High Priestess from Silver Cauldron, and the Summoner from Silver Hills to continue performing the funeral rights for the fallen.

  ***

  Leaving the funerals for my mother as well as the fallen from Silver Isles, I walked alone down the trail, heading back to the main house.

  Two days had passed since the battle occurred. Twilight left the sky in a dimming glow, while warm breezes carried ash and funerary smells toward our farmland.

  Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't notice anyone approaching me until a hand rested on my shoulder.

  Ben's warm, but tired gaze met mine. Pulling me into an embrace, I relished the comforting gesture and the mere ounce of strength it provided. No words needed to be said in that moment.

  "You were right," I finally admitted.

  "About what, Cora?"

  "Potions can give even weak witches and wizards a fighting chance."

  "I'm not sure that's exactly what I said, but the sentiment is true."

  "Thank you. Without all the potions you made, we could never have held out until help arrived."

  Looping his arm with mine, we continued to walk. "Well, I'm glad they came to good use. Besides, now I'll have less to pack."

  I stopped. "Ben..." I paused until our eyes met once more. "I want you to hear this from me and not from someone else, or during a large meeting." When he didn't say anything, I continued. "National has decided that I'm to live in exile. I won’t be allowed to go with you and the others to Maine."

  His expression saddened.

  Placing my hand on his shoulder, I said, "It's okay. Their sentence is justified. And I accept it."

  "You can't blame yourself for what your sister did. I'll speak to them. I'll take responsibility for advising you not to go to them about your head injury. I'm your healer, for Apollo's sake! They'd have to believe me."

  My head shook. "I can't let you take the blame for the choices I made. I chose not to tell them about my condition. It's my fault so many of our members were unhappy. I should have been paying more attention to Kacie's needs, along with everyone else’s. If I had known about their desire to grow outside our household, they would never have developed such animosity for our coven."

  "You're being too hard on yourself. And as far as I can remember, you're not clairvoyant, nor are you empathic." He kissed the top of my head. "There is something you can do for me."

  "Anything."

  "There are a few potions that are good to have while traveling. With your assistance, I can make two of each while passing on a few other tips to you that you didn't learn in school."

  Nodding, I gave him a warm smile. "I'd like that." Instantly, a thought popped into my mind. "School!"

  "What about it?" He tilted his head.

  "Has anyone checked the other panic rooms, besides the one I was in?"

  "There's more than one?"

  Grabbing his hand, I cried, "Of course there is!" Dragging him back toward the main house, we caught the attention of each witch or wizard we passed who all turned our way.

  Quarantined in the executive panic room were the wounded warlocks, witches, and wizards from Silver Winds and Shore covens waiting for a transport vehicle to arrive to take them to the National Headquarters. Once there, they'd be sentenced with or without a formal trial.

  The other panic room, located under Athena's statue, could have held some witches and wizards!

  The side door banged open as we entered the foyer. Signs of the battle that occurred were no longer present. Instead, the spacious area contained a number of supplies that were purchased from local superstores.

  Exiting from the makeshift barracks for the Silver Cauldron that was set up in the dining hall, Mistress Hilda stepped in front of us. "Where's the fire?"

  "You're just the person I wanted to see." I did not pause. "Is everyone accounted for?"

  She looked at me like I just grew another head. "Of course not. The location of about a fifth of our members are still unknown. There were more this morning, but the National Watchmen managed to locate most of our children who were transferred to the Hills and Shore households."

  "They're safe?"

  "As far as I know. The older ones are helping to identify the babies and toddlers. I've also had the choir members assisting in sorting all the paperwork so that no one is misidentified or lost."

  "Good thinking." Anxiety gnawed at my bones as I thought about how many people were still missing, or cremated without anyone else knowing about it.

  "Has anyone checked the panic rooms in the dormitories and school? I know the buildings burned down, but the panic rooms are underground, and on a separate air filtration system than the rest of the buildings."

  "No... The attack happened at first light." Hilda's brows knitted together as if reminding me not to make asinine statements.

  "Yet, Master Demetrius was holding choir practice," I pointed out. "It's not on the normal schedule, so Kacie didn't know about it. Who burned down the school? When did it burn down anyway? There is no reason for anyone to have targeted it."

  Neither one looked like they knew the answer. Of course, when I had the next opportunity, I planned to check the mirror stone, but as of right now, this was the best way for me to move forward.

  Reaching the statue of Athena, I pressed the right eye of the owl that stood in front of her feet. The stone silently slid back, revealing a staircase leading down into an underground great room.

  Florescent lights emitted a nice bright glow. That was definitely a good sign. "This is Cora King, your High Priestess!" I shouted. "I'm with...."

  "Hilda Kraft, Mistress of Rune-craft."

  "Benjamin Fletcher, Master of Healing and Potions."

  "We're coming down now." Taking each step slowly, one at a time, I gradually descended the stairs. At first, I didn't see anyone. But then, I noticed the game boards scattered on the ground, and the television gave off a slight glow from being on. I spotted a pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the potion cauldron's flame to be aglow. "We're not going to hurt you."

  "It's okay, everyone." The salt and pepper head of our Master of Incantation popped up from behind the counter.

  Slowly, the faces of half a dozen teenagers appeared from the other side of the L-shaped couch. As they stood, each one held a potion tightly in his or her hand.

  "Was that the trap door?" The coven's Archivist popped her head out of the door that led to the female sleeping quarters.

  "It's Cora, Hilda, and Ben. They said we can come out now." He wiped his hands on a towel.

  "Goodness gracious, that took a long time." She fluffed her hair. Addressing me, she lamented, "When you told me about this hidden room, I never thought we'd actually need to use it."

  "Is this everyone?" Hilda asked.

  "Of course not! Besides my regular seniors, we have Master Steven's entire first block Incantation class stashed down here. Good thing for the extra supervision too. Those younglings were getting themselves into all sorts of trouble."

  “Trouble doesn’t begin to describe what the younglings were up to.” Darla Jane winked at me when she joined us from the restroom. My heart lightened a little seeing she was safe and had weathered the storm along with her senior friends.

  "We're glad everyone is safe." I gave them a warm sm
ile. "Mistress Hilda's going to need the names of everyone present."

  It was hard, but we filled them in about what went on. Many of the teens were concerned about their siblings and parents. Somewhere between all of the tears and words of encouragement, we comprised a list of likely hiding spots where the rest of the missing adolescents might be found.

  In order to check the remaining panic rooms, we needed to wait until morning, since we had to dig them out. Using my mirror stone, I could detect activity in all but one of the panic rooms. Trucks with snowplows attached to their front grills shoved the debris to the side, while those gifted with telekinetic powers removed whatever they could to get down to the foundation slabs of each building.

  Fortunately, our efforts were rewarded. A group of preteens was found in the dormitory's panic room; and the last two early morning classes were found in the school. We later learned that since the middle of the quarter was fast approaching, the mistresses and masters were holding early morning study sessions for their pupils. That was how they managed to save their students.

  ***

  Throughout the next day, several more witches and wizards found their way back home in search of food.

  With the funerary services completed, we performed one last ceremony to close the festival grounds. We consecrated a new location for tonight's festival on top of the youth's outdoor activities field.

  The bonfire was not nearly as tall as those from the past, but high enough to allow the remaining former members of the Silver Chalice one last night of closure. While the adults performed the ceremonies during the day, the youth and seniors created masks for those who wanted to participate.

  With the initiates gathered in separate lines, it almost felt wrong to go on with the ceremony.

  Martha performed the ritual for the girls, while the High Priest from Silver Hills did it for the boys.

  Once everyone was holding a chalice full of wine, I spoke. "Some of you may wonder why we decided to continue with tonight's festival, and others will understand why this festival had to happen. We have lost much: friends, family, loved ones and even our homes and coven. What once was, is now part of the past. Tonight, let us start a new chapter in our lives. One that will allow us time to mourn, but will also encourage us to hope for joy. Joy in new beginnings, new friends, a new family, and new loved ones. Those whom you've lost will never truly leave you. They will, however, expect you to live your lives to the fullest; and be the best you can be at whatever you set your hearts to accomplish. Tonight, we celebrate life. Lift your chalices high." I waited for them to do so. "To new beginnings!"

  "To new beginnings!" they chanted back.

  After the wine was guzzled down and the Bard's musicians began to play, we commenced with the rest of the rituals.

  At previous Beltanes, I limited myself to only one chalice of wine, but since this was my last festival, I helped myself with a second and third helping, rendering the night to turn into one big blur.

  When I woke up the next afternoon, I found myself upstairs in my bed. With no clue as to how I got there, or whom I was with, if anyone at all, I decided that it didn't matter.

  After a long, hot shower, I checked the other rooms in my suite, but they were all empty. Martha chose to use Kacie's room, while the Silver Cauldron's High Priestess occupied the guest room. The Silver Hills Summoner was given the pull-out couch, but that too, was tucked away. Council members from all three covens occupied the rooms and offices of the next two floors down, leaving the seniors’ floor up for grabs to anyone who could find an empty bed or couch.

  The elevator chimed, drawing my attention to the suite’s foyer.

  “Don’t think anything of it, Martha. Your computer lab will be state-of-the-art in no time.” Darla Jane exited the elevator. “Cora, dear, there you are! We were beginning to wonder if you intended to hide up here all day.”

  “That was quite a ceremony last night.” Martha came up and gave me a hug. “You did well.”

  “Thank you, that means a lot to me.” My heavy heart refused to lighten, but I tried my hardest to put on my best face.

  “It’s a shame you can’t come with us.” Darla shook her head. Taking a deep breath as if trying to brighten the mood, she changed the subject. “You should be pleased to know that we just finished Skyping Clarissa Vanderbilt, her niece, Betty, and the group of children you sent up there finally arrived yesterday afternoon. It took longer than expected due to Natalie’s determination to avoid driving through any of our rival covens’ territories.”

  “I’m glad they’re safe. They’re good kids. You are very fortunate to have them join your coven.” I genuinely meant that and made a mental note to check in with them periodically using the mirror stone.

  Martha gave my shoulder a slight squeeze before heading toward her room.

  Parting ways with Darla Jane, I left to check in with the rest of my council members.

  None of our guests seemed to mind the lack of accommodations. As I made my way down the stairs to the ground floor, I heard cheerful chatter, laughter, and excited voices.

  Modified daytime activities were still scheduled for the youth, and the kitchen was to remain open throughout the day.

  Life goes on. A touch of sadness filled the air here and there from those present, but most made an effort to at least pretend they were enjoying the day. If not for their own sakes, then for the others.’

  It already felt like I was on the outside looking in. Tomorrow would bring the mass exodus and the arrival of the Watchmen who would remove their prisoners. But today? Today was my last day to feel like I belonged to a coven. And somehow, that feeling stayed hollow.

  Putting on my bravest face, I mingled with different clusters of folks. Some told stories of those that had fallen, while others mindlessly bounced from one topic to another. I even spotted Sonya deep in a conversation with Zander. Checking on her magic, I happily noticed she successfully transferred Ian's powers and life force into their baby. Or should I say, babies? Two distinct patterns of powers complemented each other, but they were not identical. Tilting my head, I witnessed traces of the fertility goddess's hand. She generously allowed a second egg to be fertilized during the previous night's festivities by a very powerful Scribe.

  ***

  At first light the following morning, the Silver Cauldron members left in their caravan of large vans and a few converted school buses. Well-wishers exchanged promises to see each other again next holiday. Silver Hills, who were the closest in distance to us, lingered until after their midday meal.

  Shortly after they departed, the Watchmen arrived. Martha, Zander, and my former council members supervised their investigation. Those with telepathic abilities recorded witness statements while the ones who had other types of clairvoyance went about it differently. They either stood in certain spots for extended amounts of time, or touched walls and places on the floor to view what happened.

  It was well after dark when they finally finished. Spending the night, the fifty-plus investigators took up the beds and cots left behind by our allies.

  It wasn't until the next morning that my former coven members learned of my exile. Many felt the punishment was justified, while others said it was too lenient. Only a small minority were genuinely saddened that I would not be joining them in Maine.

  Once the last of the Watchmen finished interviewing my former coven members, they swiftly packed up everything and anything of value, that was still unclaimed, to take back with them to National. At the same time, my former coven members packed up their belongings to move into their new home.

  As I watched the last of the caravan of the Silver Isles compound departing, I physically found myself alone.

  My heart sank as stillness settled in all around me. Beltane may have been a new beginning for everyone else, but not for me. Today started a new chapter in my life. One that I was fated to face completely alone.

  Epilogue

  Days passed into a week. The shelves in t
he library were empty, as were the shelves in the pantry and in the Purse Warden's vaults. Each room held no furniture, no rugs, not even curtains. National took everything of value except the personal possessions and stipends of my former coven members, leaving the house to stand as an empty shell.

  Mercifully enough, they allowed me to keep my things and those of my sister since my mother's were given to her husband.

  As I sat on my bed, I counted Douglas's stars; each one now bore the name of a witch or wizard I lost as High Priestess. Penning Douglas's name on the last one, a chime rang throughout the house.

  A visitor. I had no idea whom it could be. Checking my innate well of magic, I cringed. My reserves were still extremely low. News of my exile spread like wildfire across Witch-Book. As did the subsequent events that took place in my coven and those of Silver Winds and Shore.

  My safety was only guaranteed as long as I remained at Moon-Brook. But that would not last. By the next holiday, I was ordered to vacate the premises. No coven would give me refuge, nor was I allowed to enter their territories. That left me with next to no options as to where to go.

  The chime rang once more, jarring me from my melancholy thoughts. With only a few potions on me, I rode the elevator down to the ground floor.

  Casting my gaze to the Arcane Plane, I slowly opened the door, leaving the security chain in place.

  "Hello?" I asked as I scanned the vacant area in front of the door.

  No response. Not seeing anything or anyone, not even a car in the driveway, I closed the door once more. "Must have been a ghost," I muttered.

  Turning back toward the elevator, the blinding light of a man’s silhouette brought me to my knees.

  My gaze shifted back to normal as two strong hands firmly gripped my shoulders. "Cora King?"

  I couldn't move. Not even to say yes.

  His right hand released my left shoulder. "Let's see. Dark brown hair, gray eyes, female, five-foot-five, small to medium build, descendant of Odin, Danu, Frigga, Hecate, Isis, and Apollo to name the strongest blood ties to Erda. Yes, that's you." The left hand lifted off my right shoulder.