“Tonight we celebrate Yule.” Alondra speaks loudly to the whole group in a circle. “The sacred night of darkness.”
I’m trying not to shiver but it’s cold. I crunched over ice on the grass as we walked into Alondra’s backyard. The big bonfire at the center of the field helps warm me a little as we sit on plastic chairs, but I still shake. Even Alondra seems to be fighting to keep her teeth from chattering.
Allie’s sitting to my immediate right. Her friend Rachel is to my left—that’s the one who was naked on the x, being fucked by Capper that night on Hilltop Bluff. I try not to think about that. I feel ridiculous in makeup. But, not surprisingly, her friends barely notice. The black cloak with a hood doesn’t help me feel better either. After I’d complained throughout dinner, Alondra finally suggested I pretend like I’m a play actor. That worked until I saw Capper’s expression.
“The turning of the wheel moves us from darkest night to greatest light,” Alondra says with a smile. “Lux alba. Tonight, friends, we have a special guest, a dear friend of mine, to celebrate with us. Meet Liam.” Alondra gestures to me. “Please stand, Liam. As your high priestess, I ask that we all welcome you to my coven.”
Everyone gets up. It startles me that everybody was so solemn, staring at the ground. Now they approach me all smiley.
“Rachel,” says the blond girl to my left, clasping my hand. Well, I know her.
“Holly,” says an Asian girl with a wave. Her head is shaven and she wears a nose ring and multiple earrings. She’s the one who led the group in throwing me out of Alondra’s yard. But she’s smiling too now.
“Beth,” says a dark-skinned witch, the youngest in the group. She’s one of the two drugged witches who attacked me on Hilltop Bluff. She hugs me. “Yatu, Liam. Welcome to the circle.”
“Catherine,” says a pale girl with a shaved head. “May you never thirst.”
The whole circle introduces themselves, and I try to remember each name. Many I met at the house of the poltergeist, but I’m terrible at names. The last is the one and only Capper.
“Lucifer,” he says, with a stupid smirk, in his Australian accent. He squeezes my hand mercilessly tight. “Nice face. Pleasure to serve you for dinner tonight.”
“Crapper,” I reply with a nod.
Alondra quickly turns to me. Crapper narrows his eyes but then returns to his seat. We all do.
“Welcome, Liam,” Alondra says, regaining her smile. “The Hawthorne coven welcomes you. Blessings come from Hecate. Glory be Astraeus. Let not clouds block Selene. And if it be, let the rays of light come from within. Atman. Lux alba.”
“Lux tenebris,” says Capper, seemingly forgetting my insult. He bows his head as if in prayer, but afterward, he resumes glaring at me across the fire.
“Lux alba,” repeats Alondra. “Under the dark and cold night, remember the warmth of this circle, sisters, that helps us through winter. We’ve lost one of our beloved sisters. In memory of Owl-Jay, we shall light her candle. We shall light memorial candles for her sister Beverly and her brother-in-law, Jack, both of whom died in Atlanta. Tonight, we pray that Beverly and Jack make a swift journey to the Summerland. And we pray for blessed days for our beloved sister Owl-Jay. We shall miss Jane dearly. She exits this circle with our best wishes.” She looks down for a moment. “I, Falconsong, need all your love in these difficult times. Do I have your love, sisters?”
“Yes, high priestess,” many say. And many more say “yes” and nod. Rachel leans over me and touches Alondra’s arm.
“Liam,” Alondra says very formally. Her face under her hood is flickering in the light of the large bonfire. Her green eyes stare into mine, and it looks a little creepy under her hood. Then she bends down and removes a small stone from a pouch on the wild grass under her chair. “Take my onyx stone.” She places the very smooth pitch-black stone into my palm. “Let this be your charm. Let it protect you and allow the light of Selene to fall upon you. Although you are not a witch, you have the blessing of my coven as their leader. And you share my magic through this small talisman. All of my magic flows through the stone as if you are one with the high priestess herself.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Witness this magic from the Hawthorne coven,” Alondra says with a nod, turning back to the group. “Lux alba.”
“Lux alba,” they all repeat.
“Lux tenebris,” Capper says, closing his eyes in concentration again and nodding.
“Before I summon my friends, a word of warning to all of you, sisters: you will see things tonight that may disturb you. If any of you are afraid or don’t feel ready, leave. I will not hold it against you. We are not using mandragora. You will have to have the strength to face this with full awareness. With Liam’s demon, we won’t need the magic herbs. Ironically my friend, Liam, has seen things many of you wouldn’t believe.”
“Why is that?” says Capper. “Why did you allow him to go with you to Alabama? Many of us want to know. Isn’t that why he’s affected? Jane said, before she left, that she thought you never should have taken him. She also believed much of the hauntings of her sister and her final crash were due to your magic—your work on that poltergeist in Bentmont.”
“Your work, Cap,” snaps Rachel beside me. “You’re the one who loves worshipping the backward pentacle—more than she does.”
“What’s happened, happened,” Alondra says, raising a hand to Rachel. She’s trying to keep the peace, even though I think she’s disliking the asshole as much as Rachel does. “You agreed with our ceremony for Maybelle in Bentmont, high priest. But I erred bringing Liam to that haunting. I admitted this. Now we’re here to put things right.”
“Jane was the best of us,” Capper says, shaking his head. “She also was the most powerful, next to you. Now Jane’s gone. We’ve lost trust in you. And now you’re letting your feelings for this dork become more important than the coven.”
“Shut up, Cap,” says Rachel, standing up. “You’re being a dick. Alondra’s got enough going on.”
“You were Jane’s best friend too,” Capper snaps, remaining seated. “I’d think her leaving would make you mad.”
“Sit down, Rachel,” says Alondra.
Rachel squints at Capper. Then she turns to Alondra and nods, slowly sitting back down in her chair.
“You all have a right to speak in the circle,” Alondra says. Even though it looks like she doesn’t want Capper to open his mouth again. I catch Capper rolling his eyes. “I ask for two special guests to come forth. Liam is here because he is haunted. I’ve asked for support from the leaders of two powerful sister covens. One is from the far corner of the world. The other is from Crescent City. Let us ask for them to reveal themselves and bring forth their magic.”
Alondra turns to her house. We all do.
The house is dimly lit. The master bedroom, on the second floor—the room with the bathroom where Alondra applied my stupid makeup—has a giant window overlooking the backyard. It’s so dark that, although her bedroom light is off, I can make out lights farther away, inside her hallways. Then she gestures to the house. “Venite foras. Venite foras.”
I jump as every single one of the witches repeats the words in eerie perfect unison: Venite foras. Venite foras.
I’m not sure what we’re waiting for. Then I glimpse firelight flickering off the white house, to our right. This is the side of the house where I entered when I was tossed out of the backyard last week. Two women emerge holding torches. The cloaks are similar to the black ones, but one is green and the other is blue. The one wearing forest green is dark skinned, bald, and without eyebrows. That’s Kenosha. Another is wearing a blue cloak. The cloak is mystical, almost a violet color, like she’s wearing the coat of some wizard. She’s an older middle-aged woman, pale with long blond hair.
“Witches, rise,” Alondra says.
The two walk to the bonfire and add their flames to the fire.
“Yatu, Kenosha,” Alondra says, rising and embracing Kenosha. “Yatu, Agnes.” She hugs Agnes. “Witches, Kenosha is named Willow by her coven in New Orleans. Thank you for arranging this meeting with Andromeda.”
Kenosha nods. Then she recognizes me and says with a smile, “Liam. How are you holding up?”
I shrug. She smiles again, nice as hell.
“Please welcome Willow and Andromeda to the Hawthorne coven,” says Alondra to the group. All the witches do what they did for me, telling them their names and repeating Alondra’s greeting. “Witches, Agnes goes by her occult name, Andromeda. Her Selene coven is named after the blessed goddess Diana. She’s traveled far, all the way from England.”
The older woman shakes a few hands but maneuvers around everyone to approach me. She shakes my hand and her bright blue eyes stare into mine. They seem to study me, just like Alondra sometimes does. She stands before me for a long time, searching my face for whatever she’s looking for.
“Falconsong,” says Agnes to Alondra in a British accent, still staring into my eyes. “I wish we could be meeting under better circumstances. This is the vessel?”
Alondra nods.
“A familiar tiding,” says Agnes, finally looking at Alondra, “to be celebrating Yule with the passing of friends while welcoming a new initiate.”
“Lee isn’t an initiate. He’s here for cleansing, not initiation.”
Got that right.
“If you say so,” Agnes replies with a smirk. Then she sits down with Kenosha, across from the fire, near Capper. All the witches sit down.
Agnes stares at me.
I’m definitely not here for an initiation, I’ll tell you that. I make sure to shake my head at her.
“I yield the floor to Willow, the high priestess of the Crescent coven,” Alondra says, sitting beside me again. Alondra flashes a grin and touches my leg, as if to reassure me.
Kenosha stands and walks in front of the circle, close to the fire.
My bowels are turning. I’m nervous as hell. Allie told me tonight would be weird. Even if this is all I’m up against, weirdness can already be checked off. Her sisters’ black cloaks remind me of court, only the judge is my girlfriend and all the jurors are surrounding a big pyre: a campfire that I’m worried the witches intend to throw me in as their sacrificial vessel. What if all the makeup was done to get me ready to be prepared and served, as Capper said? What if Alondra plans to skewer me over the bonfire? Ever see the movie The Wicker Man?
“Your revered high priestess brought us here because of a threat to her friend,” Kenosha says, gesturing to me. “A demon has possessed him. Both Falconsong and I, and the vessel tonight, were introduced to this demon in a little girl’s home. Your powerful leader helped me exorcise the spirit from Winona. But Liam was with us and was possessed there. It’s also been determined, through divination by Falconsong herself, that an evil force was involved in the death of Owl-Jay’s sister and her husband. As many of you know, there was a car accident in Atlanta. And there were red backwards crosses and pentagrams painted inside the car. Both the mother and father died but, thanks to Selene, their daughter Madison survived. The backward stars have made both Andromeda and me consider that the accident might have, indeed, been caused by an Abaddon witch.”
“Is Owl-Jay here?” Kenosha asks Alondra.
“She left my circle,” Allie replies. I hear a lot of bitterness in her tone.
“Falconsong sensed,” continues Kenosha with a nod, “that the car accident was brought on by a demon spell. There’s no proof. But your high priestess is very powerful. I have consulted with Agnes, Afreyea, and many other high priestesses throughout the world. We of the council of witches believe Alondra might be right.”
“I hear the roads are iced this time of year in these parts, Willow,” Agnes suggests. “It could have been a natural event.”
“The proof is in the symbols, sister,” objects Alondra.
“Owl-Jay was affected by left-sided magic,” Kenosha replies with a nod. “And now, I believe, so is Liam. I can feel it as I stand beside him.”
Okay, that’s creepy. Maybe that’s why Agnes keeps staring at me.
“I’ve spent all my life searching for this evil,” Alondra says. “This coven attests to that. Witness Andromeda, from across the world, sisters, to fight Abaddon. Winona was haunted by a demon, not a ghost. The same ghost that now haunts my—”
“Boyfriend?” asks Capper. “Your love for this geek weakens our coven.”
“Liam is a friend, ah-ight, not boyfriend,” Alondra snaps. She glances at me in her periphery. I know she’s lying.
“He’s an outsider that messes up the circle,” Capper says.
“He needs our help.”
“If he hadn’t interrupted our Sabbath, you might have convinced Jane to stay.”
“Let our guests speak, Cap,” Alondra snaps, finally pissed. “If you hold all these objections, you could have chosen to say them last week. Now you’re embarrassing me. If you continue this lack of unity, I’ll silence you.”
“This is what I’m talking about,” Capper says with a nod to Kenosha. He sighs, leans back in his plastic chair, and folds his arms.
Kenosha looks down at me again.
“Liam, the magic that you witness tonight will not be all that different from what we saw in Winona’s room. The difference is this is in Alondra’s backyard—her home, which is not far from yours. Remember, the demon spirit can enter your mind. Being this close to home, as an outsider, I warn you, the shock might disturb you. I know you want to rid yourself of this demon, and I and the other high priestess are here to help. But Lee, this could hurt you.”
“Like I could go nuts?” I ask.
“Like you could lose your fucking senses, mate,” says Capper.
“My onyx will help,” Alondra says. “I gave him my stone as a talisman to share my power tonight.”
“Shining forth your power, high priestess, from your coven is a clever idea, Falconsong,” Agnes says with a nod.
“He and I will share power only for this exorcism. But it still might not fully protect him.” Alondra takes a big sigh, looking at me, worried. That worries me more. “We’re here to help him.”
“Which is why you should initiate him,” Agnes says. “It is too dangerous otherwise. You have mandragora. Give him mandragora and initiate him as a warlock tonight. It will be more protective than the stone. We will bear witness. Do this before the summoning, and we won’t fail in ridding him of this evil.”
“We already have a high priest,” Alondra says.
I catch Capper shaking his head over that. Many witches witness it, and they look aghast. One gasps. Apparently, this is like a slap in the face to Alondra.
Was Capper always this defiant? Or is this since Jane left? Were they friends? It didn’t seem like Jane cared for him much. I suppose all the witches are friends, or family, whether they get along or not.
“Your coven’s been through a lot,” Agnes says after some silence. “The magic of your stone will help protect him, but initiation into this sacred coven would quickly rid him of the demon. It would be more effective, Falconsong. I think you should initiate him.”
Alondra loses her scowl at Capper and gazes at me, looking worried again. I really wish she’d stop doing that.
Well, I shake my head fast. There’s no way, no way in hell, or for hell, that I’ll let them initiate me as a witch, or warlock, tonight—possession or not.
“I won’t let anything happen to him,” Allie says. “But that includes forcing him into such a big decision tonight. He won’t be initiated.”
“Well, your high priest is right,” Kenosha says. “Your heart could be affecting the circle.”
“Everything is about you, Allie,” Capper storms. “Even when another high priestess from a founding coven is warning you. The lead witch of the Selene coven gives you advice, and you’re too sure of yourself to listen even to her.”
“Fuck, Cap, don’t suddenly start calling me, Allie!” Alondra snaps. I jump in response to her outburst. “Don’t go there!” Capper lurches back, looking terrified by her sudden outburst. It’s the first time I’ve seen how scared he is of her. “I know what you mean by that name! You call me that again and I’ll throw you out of my yard!” She turns to Agnes and shakes her head. “No. He won’t be initiated tonight. No, Agnes. No.”
Agnes nods.
“Before we begin, did you bring the ancient grimoire of my Crescent coven?” Kenosha asks Alondra. “I promised Agnes I’d show Escoba’s book to her.”
Alondra nods. She gets a book from under her chair. It’s the same one she kept reading in Winona’s house. I’ve seen her jot things down here and there, but she’s never shared any of it. It’s as occult as her coven.
“May I?” Agnes asks, opening her eyes wide.
Kenosha walks around the fire and hands Agnes the book.
“Is it truly from your founder?” Agnes asks Kenosha, glancing at some pages of the old book.
“It’s Escoba’s,” Kenosha interjects with a nod. “It’s genuine.”
“I found it in my ancestor’s house,” Alondra says. “It was in the basement of the Billington House. It is Escoba’s grimoire. I use it for my Book of Shadows and for her ancient incantations. It holds more power than any book I’ve ever known.”
“Indeed, Escoba was a powerful witch, they say,” Agnes says, running her fingers a few more times along the old leather cover in wonder. She’s so careful and awestruck, it’s as if Alondra handed her the Hope Diamond or something. “And Kenosha, your circle must be jealous that your coven’s grimoire ended up in Hawthorne.”
“Yes, Andromeda,” Kenosha says with a smile and a nod. “It’s actually how Alondra and I became friends.”
“You titled it Broomstick?” Agnes asks with a laugh. “I doubt the great Escoba Hawthorne came up with that. That rings of your wit, Alondra.”
“I did, sister,” Alondra says with a chuckle.
“No initiation, then,” Agnes says with a nod. But she’s still perusing the pages of the book. “So be it. Carry on, Willow.”
“Everyone hold hands,” says Kenosha, closing her eyes, with a deep breath.
Everyone in white chairs circling the fire holds hands. Kenosha doesn’t. She remains standing in front of me. Then she turns her back to me and raises her arms before the fire, like Alondra did during that first ceremony on Hilltop Bluff.
“Spiritus. Spiritus come forth. I speak the ancient tongue: Ekimmu. Ekimmu. Venite Foras. Spiritus. Venite Foras. Spiritus. Spiritus.”
At first, Kenosha repeats that over and over again. Then the words are more felt than heard. Some of the other witches, with their heads bowed, repeat it with her. A wind picks up, brushing along the leaves of the wild grass and nearby trees. Pretty soon all the witches except me are repeating the words in unison.
Venite Foras. Spiritus. Venite Foras. Ekimmu.
One of the witches in black cloaks, Beth, gets up and reaches out for me. Alondra cracks open an eye and nods. Rachel stands up and grabs my other hand. Then, as the words are repeated, they move me and my white plastic chair back even farther from the fire and the witch circle. I realize this is a physical representation of me residing outside their coven. Beth gestures for me to sit. Then Rachel takes out a plastic bag that was near her chair and starts pouring a white chalky substance around me and my chair.
“May the demon be cleansed in ash!” Kenosha says, cocking her head back at me. “May it come forth in beltane and leave this vessel.”
She takes out a clay figurine. She stands, removes what looks like colored feathers from her cloak, and uses it to brush the figure in her other hand. Then she throws the figurine in the flames and shouts, with wide, wild eyes, “Igni! Igni! Igni!” The fire explodes and rises to nearly double its size.
I jump as the whole group of witches scream. It reminds me of the demon’s yell itself.
In the clear sky, there is thunder. Everyone’s body jerks from the sound—except Alondra. Alondra is completely still, with her head down. Lightning strikes the bonfire. In the flash of light, I clearly see the trees around Alondra’s backyard. It strikes me for the first time that her grassy backyard with the surrounding trees feels like a natural shrine.
“Igni!” says Kenosha again to the bonfire. “Igni! Igni Igni!”
The fire explodes again. It’s so weird to see Kenosha excited. This woman is usually so calm. To see her crazed is scary as hell.
I hear more screaming. But I don’t think it’s from any of the witches. I hear the screams echoing from the trees around me. It reminds me of the ghosts I heard in the walls of the homes we visited. It quickly becomes dark and stormy.
“Venite foras. Venite foras.” But these words are Alondra’s, and they are said separate from Kenosha and the surrounding witches. “Come forth, Ekimmu. Show your source to me and my sisters. Come out of the vessel, and show us the perpetrator. Proditor. Proditor. Proditor. Venite foras.”
Agnes flashes a curious glance at Alondra. As Kenosha bobs up and down, dancing by the fire, the other witches raise their heads and cry with her. But not Alondra. Alondra calmly crouches down in concentration. And, strangely, Agnes is fixated on Alondra now.
It hails. The bonfire changes color from yellow-red to green. It’s freezing cold and I clutch my arms around myself. Then I realize, bizarrely, that the icy storm is not hitting me. Rather, ice and steam are rising from around my chair and seemingly being sucked into the air and back down into the green bonfire.
The green bonfire is now a quarter its size. There is more thunder. Then, after another lightning strike, I jump, witnessing my lanky demon. He’s standing in the center of the short green fire before all of us. The thin spirit towers, straight and transparent, over the green flames like a totem. Kenosha is dipping up and down in dance before the spirit, looking as if she is worshipping the specter. The creature is taller than ever, like three stories high, armless, without a face.
There’s another scream, but this one is inhuman. It sounds like the scream in my dream, and it seems to be coming from the Ekimmu. It’s so loud that many of the witches cover their ears, all except Alondra. Everyone except Alondra and, oddly, me. It’s not that loud to me. But everyone else covers their ears, even Kenosha.
Alondra says calmly, with her head dipped down: “Venite foras. Come forth, Ekimmu. Come out of the vessel. Reveal what Liam witnessed. Show us the Abaddon witch that moved the spirit into him.”
All turns pitch dark …
I open my eyes in a dimly lit room of a house. I recognize the hallway of Winona’s house. I don’t know how I got here. I’m seeing the familiar white walls, but the room I face is dark with a large bed.
Now I find myself sitting on the bed. The drapes are shut and only a sliver of yellow light from a partially open door lights the room.
A girl in a witch cloak approaches me from the doorway, crawling on her elbows and knees, reminding me of a spider. Her eyes are pearly white. When beside me, she runs feathers gently along my feet and legs, then over my knees and up to my bare chest and stomach. I don’t have my shirt on. She brushes my cheeks. She dances before me, shaking a rattle while brushing the feathers over my body. I can’t place who this witch is in the shadows. Then she cradles my head and whispers in my ear.
“Liam. Shh. It’s okay, Liam. Enter. Iugo. Iugo. Iugo. Leave Winona and enter him now, Ekimmu.”
I recognize her voice. It’s Kenosha. She crouches close, running her fingers and the feathers up and down my body and on my bare chest. Then I hear her rattle. It is the same rattle I just saw her waving before the bonfire. The witch looks into my eyes with those creepy white eyes.
She puts her arms around my neck. Then she straddles me, dancing over me.
“Enter Liam,” Kenosha says beside my ears. “Shh. It’s okay. Enter. Shh.” She strokes my cheek, then brushes her fingers along my legs. “Join Liam. Join him. Ekimmu iugo. Iugo. Iugo. Ekimmu. Shh, Liam. Ekimmu iugo.”
“Lee! Lee! Not you!” It’s Alondra’s voice, but it seems far away.
I don’t see Kenosha. I see a pitch-black cloaked figure crouched into a ball. The witch’s head is buried in her black cloak in the center of the dark room.
“You touch him!” cries Alondra with her head still covered by the hood of her cloak. “I’ll tear you limb from limb! Damn you, Willow!”
“Vade retro!” cries Kenosha. “Igni! Igni! Igni!”
My eyes open. Kenosha is still dancing, bobbing up and down, before the green fire. But none of the other witches are moving anymore. The hail’s stopped. The wind is stilled. Only Kenosha is dancing up and down before the short green bonfire. I think it’s the lack of movement around Kenosha that makes her finally turn and look at us. She looks as confused as I feel.
The image of the demon fades. The green fire turns yellowish red. It looks like a normal bonfire. Then everything becomes normal and silent—too silent. The clouds disperse. The moon and stars are out in the clear sky. I hear only the crackling fire. Alondra’s yard becomes “normal.” That’s weirder, in a way.
All the black-cloaked witches of the coven except Capper glare at Kenosha. But no one’s talking. Even Agnes is glaring at Kenosha now.
And yet, in the silence, only a single solitary voice is still heard. Alondra’s. Strangely, Allie’s quietly repeating “venite foras. Venite foras. Venite foras. Glory be to Hecate, the conjurer is now revealed.”
She stops and looks up at Kenosha.
“You’ve revealed yourself to my Hawthorne coven, Abaddon witch,” Alondra says. She shakes her head violently. “I…I had my suspicions, but I couldn’t believe you, my friend, would betray me. As you got rid of your devil, the devil you yourself planted in a little girl, I used the magic of my circle to reveal your spell. And…” She stands up and points her extended arm at Kenosha. I jump back because I notice Allie’s eyes are pearly white like Kenosha’s in the vision. “I never would have thought it’d be you. Admit your guilt. You planted the demon in Liam. Why? Why would you do such a thing to him?”
All the black-cloaked witches of the Hawthorne coven get up and stand next to Alondra. Kenosha walks back, nearly tripping and falling into the flames.
“Abaddon. Abaddon. Abaddon.” The witches spit, over and over, heckling her and pushing her closer to the fire. “Abaddon. Abaddon. Abaddon.” They chant in perfect unison, as if in a trance. I can’t help but think it’s Allie’s magic making them say the words.
Everyone wants to hurt Kenosha. Even Agnes, the only one sitting, looks upset. Honestly, I want to hurt her too. It was her fault. All of it. I can’t believe she did this to me. Why? Why would such a sweet girl do such a horrible thing?
I try to escape my chalk circle. But I can’t. I find that I can’t move beyond the chalk. There’s an invisible wall of air stopping me.
“She planted it!” Rachel cries, pointing. “It was her fault!”
“She’s the evil one!” says Beth. “She’s Abaddon!”
“Did you kill Owl-Jay’s sister?” Alondra asks in an unsettlingly calm voice. She sits back down in her white chair and folds her arms, but her eyes are still white.
“I didn’t touch Jane’s sister,” Kenosha replies quickly, shaking her head. Her eyes are bulging at all the witches surrounding her. “She left of her own accord. She knew what you’ve become. You’re Abaddon, Alondra, not me. I had to do this to bring Agnes. You might have shown them my spell, but she will bear witness to the true source of the backward pentacle. You. You’re the Abaddon witch. You’re to blame for summoning the demon from the ground in the first place.”
“How can you accuse me after what you’ve done!”
All the witches circle Kenosha. Agnes walks in front of Kenosha, defending her.
“Do you protect her?” Alondra asks Agnes. “You witnessed my vision? Are you also involved? Are you an Abaddon witch too?”
“Back away from her,” Agnes says to everyone. She shakes her head. “I didn’t know Kenosha did that, Alondra. I was called in to help. But Kenosha showed me evidence of your left-sided magic. Your coven has turned, and I came here to pass judgment. I have evidence. So did Owl-Jay. That’s why she left you. And we in the council believe the evil and the origin of the demon itself is from your practices here in Hawthorne.”
“We should force the truth from you, Allie,” says Capper, standing with Agnes. “You’re a devil worshipper.”
“You fucking hypocrite!” snaps Alondra. “You partook in the same rites, Cap!”
“You’re the evil witch you’ve been searching for all along,” Capper says, shaking his head. “I think you killed Jane’s sister. Jane and I believe that. Your magic killed them. Why do you think she’s not here?”
“Yeah? You think that? Well, you’re next!”
“I suggest you stand down,” Kenosha says. “With your high priest abandoning you, we bind you. You are the Abaddon witch. The demon came from you. I simply brought him here to get Andromeda to help us. Now she’s here to pass judgment and excise you from your black magic, Alondra.”
Kenosha talks bravely, but her eyes are fitful, staring at all the black-cloaked witches surrounding her.
“So this is what this was about?” Alondra snaps at Kenosha. “You summoned a demon into a little girl. Then transferred him to my boyfriend to convince Agnes to come to the States? How could you do that to a little girl? You claim I’m the one whose magic should be bound? What about what you did to Winona? I’ve never done anything so evil!”
“I didn’t haunt Winona,” Kenosha says, shaking her head. “Something else put the demon into her. We believe it came to her when you called on the devil god to rid Alice and Maybelle of the poltergeist. You used black magic and cursed Owl-Jay. And that transferred as blowback to her sister.”
“Your champion, Andromeda, isn’t even convinced that car accident was magic!” objects Alondra. “And Jane fought with me, but even she never accused me of killing her sister.”
“Then why isn’t she here, Allie?” asks Capper.
“I can’t believe this,” Alondra says. Then she turns to Agnes. “How can you believe I’m the one being evil when Kenosha planted a demon in a little child? And then in my friend!”
“I transferred the spirit from the child, yes,” says Kenosha, “but I never planted it. And I knew I could take it out of Liam tonight. And we have. It was the only way for Agnes to meet with Capper and bind you.”
“You’re here to bind me!” Alondra finally gets up. “I’ll fucking bind you!”
Her crowd of black-cloaked witches are at it again.
Abaddon. Abaddon. Abaddon.
Only this time, they’re looking at Agnes and Capper too. Agnes stares at the witches surrounding her. As wise and confident as this witch was when she first arrived, her eyes are now turning nervously about her like Kenosha’s.
“Kenosha has shown me evidence of black magic in your rites,” says Agnes, shaking her head. “This demands an investigation, Alondra. A temporary binding from black magic should be done with your coven in Hawthorne.”
“What I do in my backyard, old woman, is none of your fucking business,” cries Alondra. “You’re a hypocrite. You two are more into the backward pentacle than we are.”
“She’s becoming dangerous, Agnes,” Kenosha says, shaking her head.
“First you plant a possession in Liam,” says Alondra, walking up so she and Kenosha are face to face. “Now you dare to challenge my power in my own backyard! My hallowed ground! How dare you!”
“Don’t do this, Alondra,” warns Kenosha, shaking her head. “With Agnes, and without Capper, you won’t win.”
Kenosha falls to the ground. It looks like Alondra pushed her, but I didn’t see her lay a hand on her. Kenosha starts shaking on the ground as if she’s seizing.
“Stop it!” cries Agnes, putting her hand up. She falls on her knees beside Kenosha. “We can investigate both of you. Just stop, Alondra! If you attack her, I’ll side with her.”
Alondra folds her arms. Then her whole group of witches huddles around Agnes and Kenosha, shouting obscenities at them. Again, the group seems to act out Alondra’s thoughts and emotions, as if they are controlled by her. Some of the witches try to grab Kenosha, but Capper pushes them away.
I press against my “wall” of air. I can feel something blocking my hands. Then, like a mime, I run my palms along this bizarre air-boundary.
Some of the white dust scuffs under my tennis shoe. I can move my feet beyond the circle of chalk! Quickly, I brush the dust away from my chalk circle.
“Move out of my way, Cap,” says Alondra. “You too, Agnes. This is personal now between me and my so-called friend.”
“Are you going to kill her?” asks Capper.
“You saw what Kenosha did, sisters, didn’t you?” Alondra asks, cocking her head back at the group, ignoring him.
“Yes,” they all say in perfect unison.
“Stand down, Falconsong,” says Agnes, shaking her head, looking at all the surrounding witches. “Your coven is without a high priest. You can’t win, hallowed ground or not.”
Alondra stares at Kenosha. Kenosha is on her knees, grasping her head tightly. “Get out of my head!” I hear the noise. It’s that machine-like noise I heard at my first haunting. But it’s barely audible. Somehow, it’s deafening to Kenosha. She’s writhing on the floor, and Agnes is trying to help her.
“You’ve taken my high priest? Thought of everything, did you?” Alondra is glaring down, with eerie pearly-white eyes, at Kenosha. “Did you forget I possess your power with your coven’s magic book?”
Kenosha can’t answer. She’s clutching her ears.
“This triumvirate binds you!” shouts Agnes, looking up and still holding Kenosha. “Your own high priest and I excise your black magic from Hawthorne! I relinquish your power, Alondra, and your leadership under Hecate. You have no power under Selene anymore.”
“I fucking hate you,” Alondra replies, looking down on Agnes. “I think I’ve always hated you. Your powerless friends couldn’t help my parents. You make rules that only you can break. And you accuse me of evil, when you are far worse. It seems I’ve found our Abaddon witches, sisters.”
“No witch killed your parents,” says Kenosha, shaking her head, still gripping it with her hands. “I’m your friend. This is all part of your delusion.”
I step out of the circle. I’m free!
But I’m not stupid enough to join the mob.
Alondra cocks her head back and looks at me. She notices I’m free and manages to flash me a very sinister smile. That makes me shudder. I know my girlfriend well enough to know what she’s capable of when angry.
But Allie walks away from the two high priestesses and crouches down alone on the grass. Kenosha stops squirming. Then Alondra curls herself into a ball like she did in Winona’s room.
“She’s casting!” says Kenosha in Agnes’s arms. “Chant the words sister, quickly. Say the words with us, high priest. Bind her. Quick. Relinque.” The three echo the words and point at Alondra. “Relinque. Relinque. Relinque. Falconsong.”
Alondra doesn’t respond. Instead she sits cross-legged and buries her head further in her lap.
“Relinque. Relinque. Relinque.”
The three of them whisper it repeatedly before the mob of black-cloaked witches. The witches, oddly, turn from them and sit back down in their chairs around the fire.
Alondra rebukes quietly, “Invocare. Invocare.” She says it like a whisper, but it echoes through the air.
“Relinque. Relinque. Relinque.”
“Invocare Escoba,” Alondra says quietly. “Invocare. Escoba, I call on you, Escoba Hawthorne, to rid me of these vipers on my hallowed ground. Send Willow to Sheol where she fucking belongs.”
“My god!” shrieks Kenosha, pointing. “Agnes, she’s got the book again. Get my grimoire, Capper! Hurry!”
“But she has no high priest?” says Capper, shaking his head.
“That’s her coven’s grimoire!” cries Agnes. “She has her coven’s power and hers. Escoba’s! Grab it, Capper!”
Kenosha’s eyes are bulging. Alondra is kneeling on her grimoire—the book she called Broomstick.
Invocare Escoba. Invocare, Invocare, Invocare.
Alondra is still. It’s weird, but she seems more frightening like this than when she was shouting. Her face is buried in her lap, but she keeps quietly chanting.
Agnes tries wielding a small leather pouch in her palm, shaking it toward Alondra. She cries, “Avra kehdabra. Falconsong. Relinque.” Nothing happens.
Capper charges Alondra. I tackle him to the ground. He’s a big guy, and he rolls with me on the grass, pinning my arms. I manage to twist and turn Capper around, freeing a hand. Then I deck him really hard in the face. He knees my leg, aiming for my groin. He grabs me and yanks me up, ready to hit me again. I slug him instead.
“Prohibe,” Alondra whispers. “Prohibe. Proditor.”
Capper falls to the ground before me, shaking as if in a seizure. Then he lies completely still, frozen. I raise my hand over him. His eyes follow, but he doesn’t appear to be able to move his head. His stillness makes my last punch vicious. It knocks him out.
“They brought you to America to witness Abaddon, Agnes,” says Alondra quietly. “Witness her evil. There she is. Watch me take the devil and cast her down into perdition upon my sacred hallowed ground.”
Kenosha can’t speak. She’s clutching her head and rolling on the grass again.
“Stop it!” cries Agnes. “Stop it, Alondra! You’re hurting her.”
“Abaddon, Abaddon, Abaddon,” All the witches cry at Agnes, circling the fire.
“Gather them up, sisters,” Alondra commands calmly, as she stands up. She holds her book under her arm. “Gather them. Your former high wizard, Capper, too. Let Escoba take care of all of them.”
The wind has picked up again. And then comes hail once more. The ice sizzles as it falls upon the ever-growing red bonfire.
I run to Alondra.
“Invocare. Invocare Escoba,” Alondra says quietly, looking down.
“Allie, what are you doing?”
“Invocare. Invocare.”
“Allie. What are you doing!”
“Ask Kenosha.” Allie looks up with those creepy white eyes. But she’s not looking at me. She has her head turned back to the house. “She planted evil in you. Ask her what she deserves.”
“Look!” cries one of the witches. She’s pointing to the house. A dark-skinned witch carrying a torch is walking from the left side of the house to the bonfire. She’s wearing a black cloak with a yellow-and-black head wrap. In the shadows, the cloak doesn’t look all that different from ours. But I can see the house through her body.
“Welcome Escoba Hawthorne, sisters,” Alondra says with a grin, made only more perverse under her pearly-white eyes. “We hail a special guest tonight. Escoba Hawthorne, welcome, welcome to my home.”
“Stop it.” I grab Alondra’s arm. “Stop it! It’s enough, Allie. Stop this.”
Alondra looks at me. Her white eyes and twitchy lips and eyelids are quite terrifying. I’m remembering Winona screaming at this sight.
“She possessed you with a demon, Liam,” Alondra says to me. “You don’t want her punished?”
“What are you going to do to her? To them?”
“Make her pay.” Alondra shrugs and looks back at Kenosha, who seems to cry out even more in pain. “Make all the Abaddon witches pay.”
Agnes falls to the ground, shaking, beside Kenosha.
The ghost-witch approaches the fire. Escoba raises both her arms to the air, facing the flames. A cry is heard similar to that of the demon. Then white lights like the orbs I saw at Winona’s quickly encircle the flames. The orbs fly around the flames and then stretch, looking more like glowing white sheets.
Kenosha is dragged, like I was once, by an invisible force, toward the trees. But this time I see the white streaks from the fire, in the shadows, tugging at her. Agnes recovers enough to rush to her, but a few of the black-cloaked witches jump from their chairs and hold her back.
“Alondra, what are you doing!” I shout.
She simply watches with her arms folded as the spirits carry Kenosha, in the darkness, toward a large tree.
“Alondra, what’s going to happen to her?”
By the tree, Kenosha is being tugged into the ground. Grass and dirt are kicked up as her body is thrust again and again into the soil. Then branches come down and hold her. Her screams are cries of pain. It sounds like the ghosts are tearing her flesh and breaking her bones to plunge her into the ground.
“Help her,” I say to Alondra. “Stop hurting her, Allie. Help her.”
“You’re such an angel, Liam,” Alondra says with a grin.
“And you’re evil. You’re hurting her.”
I snatch Alondra’s book from under her arm. Allie’s eyes immediately change back from white to green in the light of the bonfire. She nearly falls over, as if I struck her. Escoba vanishes. Then all her black-cloaked witches spin around and start shouting at me.
Kenosha is panting, kneeling by the tree. The branches have returned to their former places. But Kenosha’s face and body are covered with mud and grime. The clouds disperse and moonlight shines forth in a clear evening sky.
Alondra squints at me. A few witches drop to their knees crying, apparently breaking out of their trance and in complete shock over everything that’s happened.
“Give me my book!” Alondra shouts at me.
She grabs for it, but I bat her hand away.
“Give me back my fucking book, Liam!”
She shoves me to the ground. I shake my head.
“That’s my book!” Alondra says, shaking her head violently. “Give me back Broomstick!”
I get up. She reaches for it again. I push her away.
Agnes runs to Kenosha and helps her up.
“Fuck! Give me back my book, Lee!” Alondra screams at me with wide-open green eyes. “What are you doing!”
“You were going to kill her!”
“She was going to kill me!” she cries, jumping up. “She possessed you! She was going to take away my power. Witchcraft is everything to me. You know that.”
“Yes. Everything. Over me. Over everyone. Even your friend Jane.”
“The stone,” says Agnes, wide-eyed, supporting Kenosha. “He has her stone. Lee, she can’t touch you with the black stone! Don’t give her back the book. Give it to us. You saw what she was going to do with it.”
“Give me back my fucking book!” cries Alondra, trying to grab for it again. “I warn you.” This isn’t the possessed Alondra with white eyes. She’s simply pissed.
“No.”
“You gonna give it to them?” Alondra asks, gesturing to Agnes and Kenosha. “Huh? They were going to take away my power. I’ve spent my whole life learning witchcraft. More than any of those so-called leaders. I’ve helped save so many souls. You saw the girls I helped. You witnessed everything. Then she possessed you with a demon. I showed you. So you want to give the witch that possessed you my power? They came to take it away from me because they were afraid of me. I’ve become too powerful, they say. They don’t give a shit who or what I worship. They just don’t like seeing a witch more powerful than they are. I don’t worship the devil, that fucking hypocrite Capper does. And they do too, if you want to know the truth.”
“You almost killed her. I believe them. And I believe Jane. You...you are becoming evil, Alondra.”
The two head witches come closer, cautiously. So does Capper, though he still looks hurt by my fist. Most of the witches of the coven have approached—those that aren’t in shock, weeping, on the ground. But they’re all keeping their distance, staring at the magical book under my arm. I’m holding it tightly while running my other hand over the stone in my pocket.
“Give it to me, Liam,” says Agnes. “I knew her parents. My Selene coven can guard Escoba’s grimoire.”
“Great good you did for them!” snaps Alondra, cocking her head back.
“We can care for the book without causing harm,” says Agnes.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ll keep it from all of you. None of you shall have it.”
“That’s my book!” cries Alondra in a high-pitched scream. “What are you talking about? What are you going to do with it? You’re not even a fucking warlock! Damn you, Lee, hand me Escoba’s grimoire. Now! It’s mine!”
I shake my head.
“Are you serious?” She’s searching my eyes, while still trying to snatch it from my grasp.
I nod.
“Fuck off then!” Alondra shouts. She gestures to the front of the house. “Get out! I was punishing Kenosha, and punishing her rightly, for me, and for you, Liam. But you want to stick your nose in shit you don’t understand? I tried to help you, and you repay me by taking away everything I’ve lived for!”
“Lee, hand us the book,” Kenosha says. “Please. It’s my coven’s book. I knew I could bring my sister here if I possessed you. It was to stop Alondra, not to hurt you. We don’t worship the backward pentacle like she does.”
“Lamia!” says Alondra. “You lamias. You don’t distinguish between good or evil if it empowers you.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt her or you, Liam,” Kenosha says. “She was going to hurt me.” She’s back to being the calm, collected Kenosha I remember. But her face is coated in mud and grime. Her calm is deceitful. Evil. “You saw the Abaddon witch for yourself, Lee.”
“You put a ghost in me,” I say. “You tricked me.” I shake my head. “No, I won’t give it to you either. But you two leave her alone. Leave her be or I’ll hand the book back to her.”
Agnes nods sadly. “The council accepts this.”
“I don’t care what you or your stupid council accepts!” shouts Alondra. “Get out of my house!” She whirls at me again. “Hand me my fucking book, Liam! Now. It’s not yours! None of this is your business.”
“I have your word that you won’t give it to Alondra if we leave?” asks Agnes. “I can trust you?”
I nod.
Kenosha turns to Agnes. “I know his heart to be true, Andromeda. He will keep his promise.”
“So be it,” Agnes says with a nod. “Hide it from her. And us, if you must. You’re protected until the morning by her stone. But beware, Liam, for tomorrow you no longer have protection from the Hawthorne witch.”
“Get out of my house!” snaps Alondra at them again.
Agnes joins Kenosha and Capper and they walk out of the backyard.
“LAMIA,” Alondra shouts at them again, whatever that means.
Then Alondra whirls back to me. She walks right up to my face and searches it. In love, I was aroused when she met my gaze like this. In rage, it’s repulsive. “You’re nothing to me, ah-ight? If you don’t give me what’s mine, I will never speak to you again.”
“I can’t. You were going to kill her.”
“Damn you, I’m not a murderer. I’m a witch. I was going to hurt her like she hurt you. I had every right. But you’ll never understand me, will you? You’ll never understand what we are. We’re witches. You’re not a witch and you’re not a man. And now you’re taking something that doesn’t belong to you. Well, get this.” She digs her finger into my chest. “I hate you. I hate you as much as I hate them.”
“Witchcraft is the only thing you ever cared about.”
“Don’t ever come near me again.”
She turns her back on me. Then she walks over to a few witches who are sitting in the grass, with their heads in their hands, crying. She sits down by one of her sisters, puts her arm around her, and whispers something.
I leave. I walk to the side yard with the book tucked under my arm.
A few of the other witches shout “Abaddon” at me. At me. That’s how crazy they are. I hear one of them—Beth, I think—yell for Alondra to run after me and fight for the book. She doesn’t. But, as I go, I feel their stares.
I throw the book on the passenger seat when I get into my car. I feel tears in my eyes. I never cry. But I whimper. I don’t think I’ve done that since I was a little boy.
I feel so sad.
No, I’m mad. I’m furious. I practically became a witch for her. But when it came down to witches or me, again, her witchcraft was more important.
I throw the sunshade down and look into the mirror under the cabin light. I still have that stupid makeup on my face. I start rubbing it hard with the back of my hand to try to smear it off.
Where will I go? If I’m not a witch, I’m no one in Hawthorne. I don’t belong with the coven. And I don’t belong with Alondra. I never did. I should have left that night I wandered Hilltop Bluff.
I always liked how calm and self-assured Alondra appeared. That was part of my attraction, I think. Now all I can hear is her shouting and belittling me. And for the first time since I met her, I truly feel like she’s a witch. Not a witch like Glinda, a wicked witch.
I fell in love with a witch. Now the crush is over. And I want to leave Hawthorne forever.