The High Priestess herself came to get me. Her white limo pulled up alongside me, trailed by a line of white SUVs. Within seconds, the Witch Council Guard surrounded me. They had leather suits similar to mine, but their outfits were white and included helmets that left very little of their faces exposed. You might break a nose or bruise a smidge of forehead, but unless you really committed and dug out an eyeball, nothing would touch them.
“Sylvie. Good of you to turn yourself in.” The High Priestess peered behind me. “Where’s Sheridon and the relic?”
Blart growled and I shushed him. “I don’t know. Sheridon didn’t have it with him and he knocked me out and dumped me here.”
“You’re lying.” She advanced on me, her blue eyes flashing. Wrapping a hand around my throat she dragged me forward until our noses almost touched. “Where is the relic?”
“I never saw it. I don’t have it. My mom and I didn’t steal it.” I pushed the words past her death grip on my neck.
Mom had said I should confess, but with the High Priestess at my throat, I knew that was wrong. She was looking for any excuse, I could see it in her eyes, and she'd take anything I gave her. I wouldn't let our execution make sense. There was no point in telling lies she already believed, anyway.
I glared into her cold gaze. “You’re wasting time on me when I’m not the enemy.”
She gripped my throat tight, and I gagged as her fingers dug into my airway. With a snarl, she threw me away from her. Despite her lean frame, she had enough strength to make me stumble back several steps.
The Council Guard caught me as I teetered on the brink of falling on my ass and slapped on handcuffs before I could think to shake them off. Unlike my off-the-shelf cuffs, these were custom made of thick silver bearing the indentations of the hammers that made them. Worse, magic sigils had been inscribed all around the cuffs. I didn’t just feel the cold metal on my skin, but a hum of power as well.
I wasn't getting out of this. Magic would see to that.
"Take her." The High Priestess waved at me, and then strode back to the limo. A guard rushed to hold open the door for her, and once she was inside, the limo zoomed off fast enough to make the back tires squeal.
The guards goose stepped me in the direction of the SUV. Blart tried to intervene, bounding up into the guards, trying to break their hold on me. One of the men kicked him in the ribs and he yelped.
"Leave him alone!" I moved to smack the guard with my cuffed hands, but was yanked back by my hair.
"We won't let your familiar work his magic on us."
I craned around to glare at the guards. "Seriously? Do you even know who I am? Magic is not going to be the problem here."
None of the guards responded. They dragged me off, and I dug my heels in, refusing to cooperate.
"He has like, no magic, okay? He's more dog than anything else." Just like I was more human than anything else, but I didn't say that.
Blart bounded forward and they kicked him again. This time the kick picked him up and slammed him to the ground. He lay still for a second, and then jumped to his feet.
"Go home, Blart. Please."
Blart hesitated, one paw lifted, ready to step forward. He was loyal, I had to give him that much. If only he wasn't also absolutely useless.
He trotted toward me, and I pushed into the guards, forcing them off balance. No way would they land another kick on Blart. I tussled with the guards, buying as much time as I could. Hooking my foot around one of the guard's knees, I collapsed the joint and dropped him to the ground.
Over my shoulder, I spoke to Blart. "Just go home. I'll be back soon and we'll go to the dog park, okay?" If he left now, he'd be okay. He never failed to find home.
Blart sat and cocked his head, his ears high. Dog park were his two favorite words in the English language.
The guards regained control and forced me over to one of the white SUVs. To my relief, Blart stayed where he was while they crammed me into the backseat.
As we drove off, I watched out the window as Blart became smaller and smaller in the distance. A part of me wished he was with me, but if things really went bad, he might be on the chopping block, too, and I couldn't be that selfish. Away from me, he had a better chance of surviving.
Unable to see Blart any more, I turned my attention to the guards."So...can you buy those helmets, or are they only for Council Guards? Just, you know, asking for a friend."
The men ignored me and stared straight ahead. Rolling my eyes, I settled into my seat. Might as well enjoy the relative peace and quiet while it lasted.
***
They took me to the temple complex, passing the guard barracks, a utilitarian, squat brick building and the temple. I'd never been past the superficial public layer of Cleveland Witchdom, and the deeper the white SUV went into the estate, the smaller my hope I would find an out.
Somehow I'd been boxed in by circumstances I had no hand in, but no one wanted to hear it. They just wanted to punish me for it...as if that would help.
I knew the drill. If my mom was right, I'd be kept here until my trial and I would likely see the end of my life in the temple.
I swallowed hard and looked at the temple over my shoulder. A sleek, soaring building made of glass, the temple served as the official seat of all Witchdom in the Midwest. A wide rainbow of crystals glimmered in the windows, starting at the bottom and arcing up to the top of the building.
Every witch who graduated from high school was invited to join the temple and add a crystal imbued with their power. Except for me. I hadn't been able to give my crystal enough juice.
I wasn't even technically a coven member. You had to have magic to join. I'd tried. Oh, had I tried. Blood magic. Sex magic. Death magic using road kill—which in hindsight, had probably been the root cause as to why it hadn't worked.
I bit the inside of my cheek. Okay, so that wasn't a good memory. Whatever. I shrugged off my always inconvenient inadequacy. The point was, the temple was far too pretty a place to kill witches, and in fact, there hadn't been any executions for the last several decades.
Crime had been at an all-time low.
Until Thorne.
"Eyes forward." A guard elbowed me in the ribs. Hard.
Grateful for my leathers, I turned back around. We were almost to the house now. The place the High Priestess called home.
In contrast to the modern temple, the High Priestess lived in a historic Victorian with a turret in one corner. The first witches to settle in Cleveland had built the house, and rumor said their souls still walked the halls, protecting all of us. If that was true, maybe there'd be some divine intervention.
The house was painted a dark charcoal that made it look like an ominous shadow. Thick bushes blocked the windows on the first floor, keeping anyone from looking inside, and ivy curtained the second-floor windows. The High Priestess liked to keep her home dark.
The Council Guard ushered me through the front door and into the High Priestess' office, a large room with built-in bookcases and a massive tiger oak desk with a pentacle motif on each corner. The guards searched me for weapons, confiscating everything except my phone, which by some miracle they missed. They also missed my bracelet of charms, which I'd tucked up into the cuff of my jacket while they were rooting through my pockets.
They tossed everything on the desk as they found it and then their rough hands searched for more. I hid my anxiety by studying all the books, silently reading the spines to give myself a focus.
The High Priestess had quite a collection of grimoires from all over the world. I saw Spanish, German, something that looked like Chinese or maybe Japanese—I was no expert. I recognized the famous ones, though.
There was the true Book of the Dead with hieroglyphs that moved of their own accord up and down the spine like a news ticker. Next to it was a Mayan Codex with a gold sun god at the top of its wide spine. The eyes widened unexpectedly and appeared shocked to see me before slamming shut. I also spotted the Royal Book of Shadows, the one Queen Elizabeth the first had used to stay in power. In school, they'd told us she'd written it in her own blood.
Of course, the most famous was the Book of Firsts written by the First Vampire during his time with the First Witch. It was said she'd dictated parts to him. The High Priestess had a copy that looked to be very old. The unassuming dark leather binding didn't move or blink or sparkle. If you didn't know your history, you'd think it wasn't important compared to the other grimoires, but it was the one book every witch read.
“Sit down.” The High Priestess’ voice chilled the air as she swept into the room.
I lifted my chin. “I’ll stand. Thanks.”
Next thing I knew, the guards stepped up behind me, each grabbing an elbow and forcing me into a chair. They stood on either side of me, a heavy hand on each shoulder to keep me in place. The High Priestess paced in front of me, her white robes billowing.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?”
I shook off the guards' hands, but didn’t try to leave the chair they’d put me in. I had no illusions I could run from this. No, I'd have to talk my way out of this mess. “Did you let my mother go?”
“Not yet.”
“She didn’t do anything. Neither did I, and Sheridon is getting further and further away.”
The High Priestess whirled around and slapped me. The hit was so unexpected, it took a second for me to react.
I covered my throbbing cheek with one hand and glared at her. “That was uncalled for."
Her eyes were cold as death."Who are you to decide what is and isn't acceptable? You have no idea how much danger we are all in."
"Then stop wasting time on me." The silver cuffs grazed my cheek and turned the pain from throbbing to searing. I jerked my hands away from my face.
"Tell me where he is?"
"For the billionth time, I don't know. He attacked me. I'm not in cahoots with him. "
Giving a muted shriek of aggravation, she went to her desk and pulled out a gold box. Gold as in fourteen carat. Sigils I didn't know adorned the sides, and the box gave off a shudder of power that made dread crawl up my spine.
The High Priestess came around and perched on the edge of her desk in front of me. "Have you ever heard of the Pharaoh's Sting?"
I shook my head.
"The Witch Council of Alexandria sent it to me. A gift." She opened the box and pulled out a scorpion sculpted of gold and inlaid with a bright blue stone.
"Not a gift I'd want, but to each their own." The dread was camping out on my shoulders now.
"It's an old magic. Quite difficult."
"Why would they send something like that?"
She shrugged. "They probably want something, but that's not why we're here, is it?" She leaned forward and set the scorpion on my thigh.
I startled as its weight settled into me. The little figurine was heavier than it looked.
"Stay still. You don't want to scare it."
"Scare it?"
"You see, it stings when you tell the truth. A little poison every time you tell me what I want to know."
"What?"
"It's rather devious, isn't it?" She gave a tinkling laugh.
"I'm glad you're amused."
"Ah, you're lying. It didn't sting you. Tell me your name." When I didn't respond, she got in my face. "Say it, Sylvie. Now."
There was such fury in her eyes, a tendril of fear snaked up my spine. "But you just said my name."
The gold scorpion sprang to life, the yellow metal rippling as it moved. It's tail whipped forward over its head and planted the stinger into my thigh so fast my eyes couldn't follow. The pain came a second later. Hot and searing, like I'd stabbed myself with a knife dipped in acid.
"That works." She leaned back and watched as I fought not to cry from the pain. "You can't get away with your lies now. I'll know."
"Goddess. Torturing people for telling the truth is messed up."
The scorpion's tail whipped over again, laying another sting over the first.
"This isn't a game, Sylvie." She gestured to the scorpion. "Tell me the truth and this ends."
"You know, this thing makes lying awfully attractive." I bit back a scream as that earned me another sting. Apparently, any truth counted.
"Only if you're shortsighted enough to think lying won't be punished. I have several other amusements for lying."
I remained silent. Talking less seemed like a good idea. When someone referred to torture as amusement you knew you were in deep shit. I studied the High Priestess for a moment. She'd always been haughty and cold, even a little mean, but when had she become evil? And did my mother know about this? I wondered.
She motioned to the guards. "Hold her down."
The guards clamped down on my shoulders, pinning me into the chair, and then yanked my hands overhead.
"So. Let's start again. Where's Sheridon?"
"I don't know. I had nothing—"
She cut me off and wagged a finger. "Ah-ah. One thing at a time. That way I know exactly what's true." I almost didn't register her words as the stinger pierced my thigh. For a second there was nothing but pain.
"Where is the relic?" Her question sounded like it came from far away.
"I don't know." I dug my heels into the floor, anticipating the next sting. My whole body throbbed like a fever now, and my stomach cramped like I'd eaten way too many hot wings. Too much more of this and I would puke all over the place.
"Did you ever have the relic?"
"No." My toes went numb with the next sting and electric tingles snapped over my calves like little whips.
"Are you working with Sheridon?"
"No." I lost control of my breathing as the stinger hit me again.
The High Priestess drummed her fingers on her desk. "This isn't what I expected."
"Can you take this thing off me?"
"You're hiding something. I can feel it."
"You think I'm capable of out magicking whatever this thing is?" I cringed, expecting a sting, but apparently questions didn't count. Ah. Good to know. I could play this thing like Jeopardy then.
She snatched the scorpion off my thigh and placed it back into the box. "We're done here."
The guards let me go and I sank into my chair, limp with relief. My breathing remained irregular though, and my head ached so much I wondered if it would burst. "Is whatever was in those stingers going to kill me?"
"No. You'll be fine." One of her eyebrows arched up. "Eventually."
"And my mother?" I blinked sweat out of my eyes. The poison was setting me on fire from the inside out. The heat along my spine felt like someone had taken a flamethrower to me.
"I don't know."
"She's been your friend forever. You can't think she would turn on you."
"We'll see."
"How about you start looking for Sheridon?"
"I've been looking for him since dawn." At my confused look, she said, "What? You thought this was it?" She gestured from her scorpion box to me. "I've been High Priestess long enough to know how to multi-task when it comes to urgent matters. That's why I'm in charge and you're not."
She waved at the guards. "Take her to a cell."
"You know I'm innocent. Let me go. I can help."
"I'm afraid I don't trust you, no matter what the scorpion indicated." Her gaze did a hard sweep over me. "You were late. You disappeared. You failed. You failed me."
The guards yanked me to my feet. They tried to walk me out, but thanks to the scorpion, my knees had gone boneless. I couldn't stand, let alone operate my legs.
"And you're in no shape for anything."
"Yeah, wel, that's not my fault," I muttered as one of the guards swung me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. My nose bounced off his butt, making me feel too much like Blart.
"Get this failure out of here." I could hear but not see her snap her fingers. "I don't want to see her anymore."
The guards shuffled off and my nose went to places only dogs could appreciate. This moment was probably Blart's wet dream.
"If you fart, I fart." I did my best to twist around and look up at the guard carrying me. Our noses were both close to ass...we could do mutual assured destruction. Another guard grabbed my hair and yanked me down, though.
***
They took me to the basement in a tiny elevator that creaked and groaned like it would collapse any second. We were going to the dungeons, the place I'd toured as a fifth grader, where I'd promised to always be a good witch so I'd never end up there. Well, that dream was gone.
The room they dumped me in turned out to be pleasant enough, though. There was a bed with a blanket and a small bathroom. I still couldn't walk, and no one stayed to help. I had to army crawl to the bathroom where I gulped cold water from the sink.
As a kid, I'd had my tonsils out, and the nurse had told me drinking water would help flush the anesthesia out of my system faster. I hoped the same principle applied to magic scorpion venom. When I couldn't take any more liquid, I slithered to the bed and flopped myself up onto the mattress.
I checked my phone then, hoping I might be able to make a call, but there was no reception. Resigned to my fate for the moment, I pulled the blanket over me, opting for the only thing that made sense, sleeping it off. If the world was ending, I was in no position to save it. Things would have to work out without me.