

BAD HOLIDAY IN WITCH TOWN

Book One of THE WITCH WAR CHRONICLES

By Mark Hockley

Copyright 2013 by Mark Hockley

Smashwords Edition

Some things just don't work out the way you planned. My life has gone crazy and everything is completely out of control. You see, people are dead here and the truth is I'm the one who killed them. It was self defence, but what difference does that really make. I still did it. I'm sixteen years old for God's sake. Maybe it's just that girls like me were never meant for anything good to happen to them. But there's one thing for sure and maybe I am losing my mind, but this really did turn out to be a bad holiday in Witch Town.

1

Another therapy session. Must be one of my lucky days. I'm so fortunate! But then, maybe this day will be okay after all. Anything can happen, or so I've heard. Anyway, I'm off to see Ruth, my therapist. She's okay, but do I want to be there. No way.

"Hi Ellie, how you doing?"

Ruth Kimble was in her early thirties, pretty with short blonde hair and always meant well. This did nothing to make Ellie like spending time with her though. After all, this was just another freak show with her in the title role.

"I'm okay," Ellie managed, slightly envious of the woman's fashionable hairstyle. Her own dreary, brown shoulder-length locks were a constant disappointment, as far as she was concerned.

Ruth nodded sympathetically. "Let's just talk for a while, okay?"

They did just that. Ellie didn't give too much away. She wasn't exactly happy to be therapist material after all. Oh, for a stable life.

After half an hour or so, Ruth decided to try something different. "How about some word association," she suggested.

Ellie looked glum. "If you want to."

"Okay, you know how this works, the first word that comes into your head. Don't over-think it, be spontaneous."

Feigning an indulgent smile, the girl nodded.

"Pain"

"In the butt," Ellie intoned.

"Just one word," Ruth countered with infinite patience. "Pain," she repeated.

"Full."

"Are you taking this seriously?" The woman's patience still held, but now there were little cracks.

"Sorry."

Ruth pushed on. "Love."

"Life."

"Peace."

"Quiet"

"Mother."

Ellie hesitated. "Melodrama," she mumbled.

Ruth gave her a penetrating look, but continued. "Father."

Now the girl shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Absent," she said quietly, not enjoying this at all.

Ruth nodded sagely. "Friends."

This brought an unexpected, genuine smile to Ellie's face. "Holiday." Just a word, but suddenly she felt as if everything was going to be okay.

She, Zack, Beth and Luke were planning a road trip. A holiday. They didn't know where they were going. But who cared. They were just going to get away from everything here. That was all that mattered.

"You can't go," her mother announced with the certainty of a righteous parent.

"What do you mean, I can't go!?" Ellie shouted louder than she meant to, but this was getting way out of hand.

"Just what I said, you're not going," she began, searching for something extra, "you're too young."

"I'll be sixteen in two days time, how can I be too young!? " the girl demanded to know.

"And that's another thing, what about your birthday. How can you think you're going away when it's your birthday. I wouldn't see you. No-one in the family will see you!"

"I'll see Zack, he's family!"

"I don't mean your brother, I mean everyone else. And what about me? Doesn't your own mother count for anything!?" Carol Landis was not handling this very well and she knew it, but as hard as she tried she could not reign it in. Her emotions had taken over and she went with them. "Why do you do this to me, Ellie!? I just don't understand you."

The girl glared at her mother. "That's the problem, mum, you don't, do you. You just don't understand anything!"

They stared at each other for a long moment, until another voice broke the silence.

"It will be okay, mum." It was Zack. Almost eighteen, taller than average, dark haired and experienced family peace-maker. He stood in the doorway looking on. "We can do something for Ellie's birthday when we get back." The boy took a breath, weighing up his words. "This is important. To both of us. We need some space for a week or so. We've been talking about it for ages and now's the right time." He waited, eyeing his mother carefully and then glancing at Ellie.

Ellie looked back at him, hopeful. For teenage brother and sister they got on incredibly well. They had a lot in common and amazingly, agreed about most things. She acknowledged it was weird, but she was glad about it. That was one thing in her life that she was genuinely grateful for. And the truth was, there wasn't much else.

Their mother tried her best to come to terms with the battle she was losing. Two against one wasn't very fair. But then things were very rarely ever fair. Finally she nodded. "You'll ring me," she said quietly.

It was Zack who agreed. Ellie remained silent. As far as she was concerned, a week without hearing her mother's voice sounded like the best birthday present she could ask for.

At last it was time to leave. There had been awkward goodbyes with their mother, but now Ellie and Zack were on their way to pick up the others. After that they would just drive. There was no definite destination. They had two tents packed in the back of the small van Zack had bought with his hard earned savings six months before. Zack said his job in HMV was a means to an end and as far as Ellie was concerned this holiday would make everything worthwhile.

They pulled up outside Beth's old townhouse and waited as a slim, blonde girl bounded out to meet them. She was Ellie's age, or at least the same age Ellie would be in one day's time. Beth liked to remind her that she was two months older and of course, deserved respect and honour for her much greater wisdom and life experience. Ellie couldn't wait to be sixteen too. An adult at last.

"Hi," Beth said as she jumped in beside Ellie in the back seat.

"Hi to you, old woman!" Ellie replied, grinning. She was even more excited than she had expected to be about going away. For her, it was an escape from the city. A city full of people who made her feel bad about herself. Maybe I need therapy, she thought and giggled a little.

Beth shot her a look. " I may be old to you now, dearest, but tomorrow you will join the ranks of womanhood!"

This made Ellie laugh even more and they set off to collect Luke. He only lived ten minutes away so the boy was soon in the front seat beside Zack and they really were ready to be on their way.

This was a journey into the unknown, a genuine adventure. It was what they all needed, that was a common bond between them. Zack was sick of his job and felt like a failure. Luke, his best friend, darker and stockier than the other boy, was the artistic one with dreams of becoming a painter or a writer. He was always looking for something different than what city life offered. And Beth, Ellie's best friend since she was five years old, was always up for anything she thought might be fun or out of the ordinary.

The four of them meant to see some of the more out of the way places in England, quaint towns, forgotten villages. The countryside beckoned.

They slept overnight in their tents. The girls laughed and joked about. The boys were more practically minded, taking great pains to put up the tents correctly so they would not collapse on top of them.

Ellie listened to the night as she lay there waiting for sleep to take her. There was a mild breeze and it brushed the canvas of the tent and created a soothing sound that she liked.

They had all waited until midnight to say happy birthday to her, but they had agreed that presents and celebrations would wait until daylight. Ellie was fine with that. She lay very still, listening. She was sixteen years old, her life up until this point had been a mess. No dad, a neurotic mother, rubbish school life, academic failure.

But now, maybe things could change. Maybe.

She let her consciousness fade and drift and then she was dreaming. Dreaming of strange things she had no knowledge of. Dreaming of a place she recognised but had never been to. Witch Town.
2

Away at last. Here I am living the dream! Or am I just kidding myself. You can run but you can't hide, isn't that what they say? Whatever, better to have some time to think away from Mum, away from everything. I'll find a way to change things. I will. And nothing is going to stop me.

Her presents from the others were modest, but then none of them had any money to speak of. An HMV voucher from Zack was not very original, but always useful. From Luke she got a book on personality disorder. Very funny. Beth gave her some perfume. Everything was fun and they were all getting on really well. Except.

There were underlying tensions.

Ellie tried to sum it up in her mind. It wasn't very complicated. In fact it was the same old story.

Beth liked Zack. But Zack wasn't interested. Problem was, Luke liked Beth. But of course, she only had eyes for Zack. Always the way, mused Ellie. She on the other hand was just fine. She wasn't interested in anyone at the moment. She was still waiting for the right guy to come along. She could be patient.

"So, where to?" Zack wanted to know.

They had packed up their stuff and were ready to roll.

"It's Ellie's day," stated Luke, his expression always more serious than he intended, "she should decide."

Everyone agreed.

Perusing the map, Ellie identified a remote area, mostly forest and woodland. "Let's head for the wilds," she commanded, tapping the page.

"The wilds it is," assented Zack and started the engine.

Ellie loved the idea of exploring a place where hardly anyone went. They had parked up off a remote country road and then hopped over a fence to find themselves in a small field adjacent to an immense forest.

"You know we're probably trespassing," observed Luke.

"If they fine me, I will have to pay it in instalments," shot back Beth with a quick smile.

They made their way towards the trees.

Once beneath the imposing cover of the forest itself, they began to relax and enjoy their surroundings. It was a mild day, but the trees seemed almost alive around them, ever in motion, whispering in some unknown language to each other.

Zack and Luke forged ahead, while the girls examined interesting shrubs and wild flowers.

Out of Ellie's and particularly Beth's earshot, Luke complained to his friend. "She hardly ever says anything to me."

Zack considered his reply carefully. "I know mate," he said at last, "you might have to give it up as a lost cause." He glanced at the other boy and saw the disappointment in his face.

"If she would talk to me the way she does to you..." he started and then trailed off, obviously weighing things up in his mind.

Luke was a really good friend and Zack cared about how he felt and everything, but what could he do. Beth just wasn't interested and the harder Luke tried the worse it got. And Zack wasn't blind either. He knew quite well that Beth liked him. And he liked her back. Just not in the way she wanted him to. Which was just as well. Just think what a mess it would be if he went out with Beth. What would that do to his best friend. Love's young dream! If this was how it was, you could keep it.

They walked on in silence for a while.

Zack noticed a pale, greyish tree on their right. It stood out because everywhere else the trees were predominantly brown. Even though he was troubled because of all the romantic tensions bubbling away within their group, he was still enjoying being out here, everything so calm and still. Life in the city with his mum had been really getting to him. His sister was in a bad place, had been for a very long time. He wished he could do more, but just surviving seemed to take most of his energy. He loved music and movies and computer games, so working where he did was not so bad. But he wanted more. Nothing unusual about that of course. Who didn't. But there was something deep, almost a pulse within, that nagged at him to search for something else. Something outside and beyond of what he already knew. It was hard to explain. And he didn't really try. Not even to himself. He was just aware that something was missing and he would have to move on sooner or later. He guessed this trip was the first step in that direction.

They continued on another five minutes or so, Luke keeping his thoughts to himself. Ahead, Zack saw another grey tree among the brown and green. Must be a few scattered around here he supposed. He approached it and ran his hand over the smooth bark.

"What you doing?" Luke muttered, his mood noticeably gloomy.

The other boy turned and looked at him, "Nothing, just thought this tree was different from the rest."

Luke glanced around and then nodded. "It is," he agreed simply.

This made Zack smile. "Thanks for that mister tree expert!"

His friend gave him a glare. "Just stating the facts," he said and finally broke into a smile.

"So how does it feel to be an adult?" Beth asked with a smirk.

"I thought you have to be eighteen to be an adult."

"You know what I mean," countered the other girl.

"Well," Ellie considered, " I feel exactly the same mess I did before."

Beth shook her head. "Don't stress so much. Not everything has to be so serious."

"Oh, little miss relaxed!" Ellie fired back, but with a smile playing around her lips, "so you're so cool with everything are you?"

Her friend gave her a withering look. "Some things are worth getting serious about."

"Like my brother you mean." The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think. Immediately she was sorry. Beth's expression had clouded over in a way Ellie hated to see.

"I'm wasting my time, aren't I," Beth said at length.

"Maybe," was all Ellie could manage, not wanting to encourage false hope in her friend.

"Definitely." This was said with some bitterness.

Ellie scrambled for something positive. "Who knows what's going to happen. Life is unpredictable."

The other girl considered this for a moment. "But things don't always turn out good do they?"

This left Ellie with a sinking feeling that made something inside her begin to hurt very badly. She knew this was the truth. And she was tired of always expecting the worst. When would her life take a turn for the better. It was always such a trial. But then, maybe she was just feeling sorry for herself. Maybe that was what they were all doing. She made up her mind to not let herself slip any further down.

"Come on, let's catch up with the great explorers!" she said as cheerfully as she could manage.

Zack was beginning to think he was losing it.

This damn grey tree had continued to appear at regular intervals. They had passed eight of them now. Of course, at first he had thought they had just been planted like this for some reason. That was the answer Luke had given as soon as he mentioned it.

Only problem was he had carved his initials in the last one.

Now two minutes further on he was staring at another grey tree.

With his initials etched right there in front of him.

Impossible.

He glanced at Luke. The other boy just stared back with a slightly awed expression.

You see, it hadn't been just the fact that these odd trees had kept repeating. If it had only been that he would have probably ignored it. No, there had been something else. A sense of something out of place. He couldn't really describe it, but he had felt it.

"What is this?" Luke finally murmured.

Zack reached out and touched the rough carving in the bark. There was no denying it. It was his own handiwork. "Time warp," he said distractedly, with a half smile. But he really didn't feel like smiling.

"What!?"

"You know, like a science fiction time warp. Haven't you ever watched Star Trek?" Zack tried to sound convinced, but he was anything but.

Luke looked at his friend with a mixture of confusion and scorn. "Are you listening to yourself," he asked, "the key word there was fiction remember."

The other boy shrugged and looked back at his initials in the wood. "So how do you explain this?"

Luke considered this for a moment and then relaxed a little. "We've got turned around while we were walking. It's just the same tree."

Zack shook his head, knowing with certainty that it wasn't true. "That's not very likely is it. We were on a straight path. You don't really believe that do you?"

"I believe it more than your Star Trek theory!" was the short reply.

They stood there together for several long moments in silence.

Then they heard the sound of someone approaching from somewhere behind them. They exchanged a quick look, almost embarrassed.

Turning away from the tree, they saw the two girls ambling up the path towards them.

"Hi," said Ellie brightly.

"Hi," returned Zack with little enthusiasm.

Ellie looked from her brother to Luke and then back again. "Problem?" she questioned, knowing her brother well enough to read from his expression that there was one.

"I think maybe they put the wrong one of us in therapy," Zack said without any irony at all.

"Rational solution, as in there must be one," stated Beth with conviction.

The other three just looked at her.

"Okay," decided Ellie, "let's keep walking. Then we will know for sure."

This seemed like the obvious thing to do, so they set off at a brisk pace.

"If I see another grey tree I may well freak out!" said Zack, not sure if he meant it or not.

But there were no more grey trees.

Instead they came upon a large wooden signpost. It looked very old and weathered from years of abuse. In carved letters there was a name, one that resonated and echoed within Ellie's mind.

WITCH TOWN.

They all looked up at it, but no one said anything.

Beyond the sign was a wider track than the one they had been following and further in the distance they saw that it became more permanent, perhaps even made of gravel or stone.

"There's a town in here?" voiced Luke, shaking his head.

"That's what the sign says," agreed Zack and realised they were talking just to break the uncomfortable silence. Stating the obvious it was known as in the trade, he thought, managing a wry smile.

"Great name!" Beth added, joining in. "I have to admit I'm getting very creeped out." She said this with a brief smile, but her voice betrayed her true feelings.

"I think we should just turn around and get out of here," came Ellie's voice and no one disagreed. In fact they were all too eager to comply.

They went on a brisk pace for ten minutes or so. No one said anything.

The truth was they just wanted to get out of there. There was an unsaid agreement amongst them that things had got too weird and they just wanted to get back to their van and be on their way. Later they could think it through, come up with theories to explain it all. Ellie led the way.

Suddenly she came to a halt.

Beth almost bumped into her and had to grab hold of the girl's arm to stop herself from stumbling over.

Ellie stared ahead and upwards.

"What the..." came Zack's hushed voiced from behind.

They all looked up and took in the wooden sign. The same wooden sign. WITCH TOWN.

"No," whispered Luke, trying to make sense of it.

"Now I'm getting scared," breathed Beth, glancing at Ellie.

Ellie couldn't even speak. Something inside her was stirring. It wasn't fear. It wasn't even apprehension. It was more like anticipation. As if something was about to happen. She expected it, was waiting for it. She tried to understand her own feelings, but they were alien emotions. She felt almost dizzy with it.

Luke took out his mobile, ready to find their location. But it was dead. No signal in here.

The others tried their own phones, but with the same result.

"What do we do?" Luke asked eventually.

"Come on," Beth finally offered, "we must have got lost in there somewhere." She searched for something to support this. "We just got confused, that's all."

"No," stated Zack with a quiet force that caught the others by surprise and everyone turned to him, even Ellie. "First the tree, now this. Either I really am losing my mind or something is happening here. We're all seeing it and that was a straight path. No turns."

Luke nodded his head slowly. He knew what his friend said was true. "Are we going in there?" he questioned uncertainly.

It was Ellie who answered. "I don't think we have a choice." And with that she began to move forward with unexpected surety, passing beneath the wooden signpost, walking on along the track as it became wider and made of stone. On towards Witch Town, the name singing in her mind with a mixture of dread and promise.
3

What is happening here? Is it just me or is my life one big soap opera? I'm all for doing things that are a bit different. But craziness was not on my to-do list. Note to self: avoid out of the way places, unless armed with a shotgun or chainsaw! Or preferably both!

It was a meandering road, but beyond a high hedgerow they could see the shapes of buildings begin to appear. Imposing, dark structures, hardly modern, more gothic in style.

They turned a corner and were met by an assembly of perhaps fifteen or so women. They stood in a group spread out across the road.

Ellie and the others came to a stop and regarded them uneasily. It was if they were there waiting for them.

All of the women wore long, beige, curiously old fashioned garments which came down to their ankles, where black boots could just be made out. They also wore cloaks about their shoulders and looked for all the world like something out of some ancient photograph. The only thing that set them apart was an incongruous flash of colour here and there. One wore a white scarf, while another had a black sash. Others wore different coloured ribbons in their hair; red, green, blue. Ellie noted that one women who stood towards the centre of the group had a red cloak rather than the beige that most of the others wore. One other unusual accessory caught her attention. Every one of them had a pendant suspended from a sturdy chain around their necks. They appeared to be made from some kind of crystallised stone and were cut in irregular shapes making each one unique. They caught the light and glimmered like sparks of white fire.

All eyes were upon the four of them. But there was little expression to be found on their faces.

Zack stepped up beside Ellie, who had almost absently taken the lead. "Hello...ladies," he tried, doing his best to sound at least vaguely charming, feeling almost immediately that this was not the best approach.

The woman in the red cloak stared at him for a moment and he had to admit, at least to himself, that he did not like being under her scrutiny. Then she let her eyes pass to Ellie. "Why have you come?" she asked, her gaze flicking to Beth and then back to Ellie. She was perhaps forty or so and quite striking to look at, all the more so dressed as she was.

Ellie attempted to collect herself. "I'm really sorry, but we got lost in the woods. It didn't say anything about private property, but if we're trespassing we'll be more than happy to leave. That is, if you could just direct us back to the road."

The entire group of women focused their attention on Ellie and she felt a powerful, uncomfortable sensation. It was all she could do not to just turn around and run.

"You are already on the road," observed the woman dryly. None of the others said anything, apparently content to let their red cloaked companion be their spokesperson.

Zack tried to offer Ellie some support. "No, sorry, we mean the main road, you know, where our van is parked." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder, feeling increasingly stupid.

The women appeared to ignore him, keeping her attention on Ellie, with an occasional look at Beth. As for Luke, he might just as well have been invisible, as not even one of the group gave him even the briefest glance.

"Which one of you is a Mother?" enquired the woman, keenly eyeing Ellie then Beth.

At this, Beth couldn't stop herself from laughing, but quickly choked it away as all of the women glared at her in unison.

Ellie fought to control a smile, even though she felt incredibly tense. "I think we might have misunderstood you," she began, not wanting to offend anyone, especially when they were clearly lost and things were getting more and more weird. "We don't have any children."

Now the woman in the red cloak glanced to the closest in the group to her, as if for some kind of confirmation. Ellie noted that this one had a Blue cloak, setting her apart from those around her, who only had plain beige about their shoulders. "You will come with us," she stated abruptly.

Beth moved a little closer to Zack without realising it. In fact all four of them seemed to draw into a tighter unit. "Why?" asked Zack, trying to sound casual.

The group of women began to move aside, creating a space between them, obviously for the newcomers to pass through. Now visible beyond, more buildings could be seen. Witch Town awaited them.

"Maybe they have a phone that works," Luke suggested, without being very hopeful. The entire group looked as if they had stepped out of the middle ages along with the buildings. A telephone didn't really seem like a good fit.

"Maybe," said Zack, unconvinced.

"What do you think they'll do if we just turn around and walk away?" Beth asked, seriously considering doing it whatever the others decided.

"I think we have to take our chances in there," Ellie voiced, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her and fighting to control herself. She was struggling with conflicting emotions that seemed to battle within her. For something so crazy, so truly bizarre, it also seemed somehow right. She couldn't explain it or understand it. She began to move forward, towards the assembled women. The other three hesitated, glancing at each other anxiously.

But now Ellie was on the move, what could they do but follow, feeling more disconnected from reality than they had ever imagined could be possible.

They passed by the gathering, all in their own way wondering what they were getting themselves into. And even more acutely, uncertain if they were even still awake and not just experiencing some strange dream.

They walked down a paved street past structures of wood and stone. They were relics from the past, dark and forbidding.

The women walked with them and were quietly evasive when asked where they were going.

The two boys glanced at each other, trying to communicate something, their thoughts racing as they considered their best course of action.

All at once their escorts, as this was how Ellie thought of them, came to rest before a much larger building than the others they had seen. It has words etched in the stone above an impressive doorway, two pillars standing either side. THE COUNCIL OF FIVE.

"You," the red cloaked woman pointed at Ellie and Beth, "will come inside, the...others," she paused almost with distaste, "will join the husbands and sons in their dwellings."

The boys just stared at them, at a loss. "What?" began Luke, bewildered.

"Now just a minute," said Zack forcefully, beginning to get irritated by the attitude of these people. "We're not going anywhere without our friends...all our friends." He tensed himself, not really knowing what he intended to do.

The woman smiled at him. This was the first sign of any kind of friendly emotion shown since their arrival in this strange, throwback town. But then Zack examined her eyes and saw nothing kind there, only a disturbing sense of satisfaction and pleasure. "Pain," she breathed softly. At the same moment the stone pendant around her neck began to fill with a crimson amorphous liquid as if droplets of blood were falling into water.

And with that Zack doubled over, his insides on fire as if he was burning inside, convulsions hitting him harder and harder with every second that passed. He fell to the floor and felt rather than saw Luke kneeling down and trying to support him. Somewhere in the distance he heard the sound of screaming. He knew it was Ellie or Beth. Or maybe both of them together. But he couldn't do anything. He just writhed in agony, wishing it would stop, pleading for it to end. He had never known pain like it before.

Pain. That was what she had said. And now he suffered at her command.

Whatever was happening here, on some level, despite the agony, he recognised that it was outside of his understanding. He was lost, they all were. And knowing this, tears filled his eyes, not just because it hurt so much, but because he believed they were caught up in something monstrous and terrible. He was powerless to protect not only himself, but worse still, his sister and his friends. The pain just went on with no sign of relenting. He had his eyes closed tightly, his face twisted in a grimace. Please, he thought futilely. Please.

And then it stopped.

He lay sprawled in the road, unaware of anything around him, his body exhausted.

The pain had left his body as abruptly as it had begun. But he felt no relief. He knew that something that could be initiated so easily could happen soon again. And he also knew he was at the mercy of whoever controlled such a power.
4

So now I'm really in the deep stuff. I used to think I was weird. What with being in therapy and everything. Now I know just how true that really was. I'm not only weird, I seem to attract weirdos! My brother and friends excluded of course! But this place is full of them. And I'm pretty scared. No scratch that. I'm terrified.

Ellie stood very still, shaking slightly, trying to hold it together. Beth was beside her, tears running very slowly over her cheeks. They were both very afraid.

They stood in some kind of auditorium on a raised stage and there was a vast seating area around them much like in a lecture room. And these seats were filled, every last one with a host of female on-lookers. There was not one man among them. Their ages appeared to range from not much older than themselves to positively ancient. As before they all wore beige outfits, but now Ellie saw that they were divided by the colour of their accessories, the same types she has noticed when they had been met on the town outskirts. There were five distinct groups. Red, White, Black, Green and Blue. One in each group stood out because they wore cloaks of these hues, while others wore sashes and many more wore scarves, belts or ribbons in their hair. They were sectioned off in these colour based units by small panelled walls about two feet high.

Ellie looked towards the red assembly and saw the woman in the cloak who had somehow hurt Zack. She still couldn't believe it, but she knew this woman had been responsible. It had all happened so fast and before she could move to help her brother they had surrounded her and held her wrists in incredibly strong grips. Her screams had made no impression on them.

She glanced at Beth and their eyes locked for a few seconds. They both saw fear there of course, but there was also anger. An anger that was battling the terror, refusing to stand by and let these people treat them this way.

Almost as if this thought had solidified in Beth's mind, she turned away from Ellie and shouted at the crowded gathering. "Who the hell do you think you are! What do you want us for!?"

There had been a very low murmuring among the audience, for that was what they appeared to be. Now there was silence. All eyes were upon the girls.

An elderly woman seated among the black faction at the centre of the room stood up. She wore a cloak of that colour, was tall and upright and although her face appeared lined and weathered, she had bright eyes that belied her age.

"I am Margaret of the Black Coven. Calm yourself, child," she said and her voice was strong and clear. "You are among friends here. "

Ellie nearly choked. "Friends!?" she cried out in utter disbelief, "do you think we're stupid!? You hurt my brother..." she hesitated, trying to control her emotions. She still didn't even know if Zack was okay or not. "Is he alright? Is he!?" She took a long breath before continuing. "Don't call yourself our friends." She said this with a steel in her voice that surprised herself and even Beth looked quickly at her before fixing her gaze back on the old woman.

"You have spirit." There was a slight nod of approval and her eyes flicked to Beth to include her. "But spirit can be broken." Now there was a stir of noise among the others in the congregation. It seemed to Ellie as if there was some dissent in the sound, as if not everyone there was in agreement. The woman resumed as if not noticing. "Your...brother is perfectly well." These words caused Ellie to let out a small sob, something that this time she could not control. "But he, as you must, will need to learn that here obedience is expected. Here in Witch Town, there are rules that cannot be broken."

Now it was Beth's turn to speak. Her expression was one of irritation and disbelief. "So let me get this straight," she began with undisguised scorn. "Are you seriously telling me that you are all witches!?" She seemed for the moment to have lost all sense of fear and was going for it in a way that Ellie knew all too well. Once Beth was on roll, it was very difficult to stop her. "I got the hint from the catchy name of the town," she went on, rolling her eyes with contempt. "But come on, who do you think you are, dressing up in your stupid costumes, putting on this pantomime!? This is the twenty first century, you do know that, don't you!? Maybe it's time you starting to move with the times a bit. Just a suggestion. But really, I mean, this is ridiculous! And if you think I'm just going to stand here and play along, you can forget it." With that and an almost deliberate flounce of her hair, she turned away and began to walk across the stage, heading for a side door.

"Stop." The word was spoken quietly, but it resonated with force.

Beth stopped.

Ellie looked at her friend quizzically, everything happening so quickly that she was having trouble processing it all.

Beth just stood there, facing away from her friend, not moving. Ellie became even more afraid and moved over to her, worried that something was wrong and then she saw the other girl's face.

Beth's eyes were wide with shock. Nothing else moved. Her lips were still. Only her eyes were alive with confusion and mounting terror.

"What have you done to her!?" screamed out Ellie, turning back to the old woman.

She looked down with interest at the girls and around her neck the crystal pendant shimmered with a red glow. "You will learn soon enough the ways of Witch Town. You will learn your place." She gave a final, definite nod of certainty. "And we will teach you."

Zack sat slumped in a high-backed chair. He and Luke were in a room furnished with only the basics; table, chairs, cupboards. One or two pictures adorned the walls, portraits of women in their standard beige garb, but for a flash of colour here or there. In these paintings the colour was white.

Standing before them was a man. Zack was almost startled to see one. He was beginning to think this place was for women only.

The man was maybe in his mid-thirties, well built, average height. He wore a plain shirt and jeans with weathered looking work boots. He nodded at Zack as the boy looked at him. "Feeling better?" he asked in a voice that sounded friendly enough. But Zack trusted no one here. Not after what had happened.

"What did she do to him?" It was Luke who asked the question.

The man glanced at Luke quickly and then returned his gaze to Zack. "Don't you know where you are?" he questioned with a brief frown.

Luke gave a snort. "Oh yes, of course, this is Witch Town, I forgot. So everyone's a witch! Does that include you?"

The boy only got a glare in return. "My name is Jeremiah. I am husband to Abigail of the White Coven. I'm sorry you were hurt." He addressed this to Zack. "How did you get here?"

This was said with a combination of anxiety and confusion.

"I wish I knew," Zack started and stood up, testing his body to make sure there was no lasting damage. He looked around, rapidly noting a door and two windows. Possible ways out of there were already foremost in his mind.

"No one can enter without power," Jeremiah told them. He considered this for a moment. "One of the girls, your friends, does one know the old ways?"

Both boys just stared. "Sorry to ask," said Luke with undisguised sarcasm, "but what exactly are you talking about!?"

Jeremiah seemed perplexed for a moment and then nodded. "You don't know then."

"Of course we don't know!" exclaimed Luke, " we don't know anything about what's going on. How could we!? We stumbled in here, we're basically lost. This place is a lunatic asylum!" He eyed the man with quiet fury, but then forced himself to calm down a little. "We just want to get out of here. All of us. Can you help us?"

The man held his gaze and shook his head slowly. "In with power, out with power. No man leaves. Not from here. Some, like you, come. But none are allowed to leave." He hesitated, trying to find the right words. "You need to understand. Witch Town will be your home now. You don't have any choice."

Luke stood there, unable to respond, completely dumbfounded. As for Zack, his mind raced. But at the centre of his being, one thing dominated.

Escape.

They would get the girls and find a way out of this place. Whatever it took.

5

I remember when I was little. Maybe five. Mum used to read stories to me. And sometimes they scared me. I always used to think if I had a Dad he would protect me. But I didn't have one, so basically, I was on my own. Can't help thinking about that now. Even if it is stupid and I'm supposed to be grown up. Problem is, I still feel like I'm five. I still feel like I'm on my own.

Ellie and Beth were taken to a small room and ushered inside. A woman with a green ribbon in her hair told them it was where they would be sleeping and they should make themselves comfortable.

They were not at all surprised when she left and closed the door and they heard the very definite turn of a key.

"So we're locked in here." It was a statement, not a question and Beth didn't expect to get a response.

Ellie looked around, took in the two single beds, the chest of drawers, cupboard, wash basin. All the mod cons! "What is this!?" she said aloud, although it was more for herself than for Beth.

The other girl sighed and there was a quiver in her voice that revealed how frayed her emotions really were. "We're in Witch Town. They can do magic here. Just a normal day in the life of Beth and Ellie!" She paused before adding. "We're in serious trouble aren't we?"

This time Ellie really didn't need to answer. They both understood how bad things were.

Trying to come to terms with everything they had seen and experienced was proving incredibly difficult. Their rational minds tried to reject it, but in their hearts they knew they had somehow stepped over a line they never knew existed and entered a new world where the rules were entirely different from anything they had believed possible.

"What are we going to do?" Beth said very softly. She sounded almost defeated.

Ellie took her friend's hand and held it tightly. "We will get through this okay. We will. I don't know what they want from us and you know I'm just as scared as you are. But if we stick together, we can get through this."

"What about Zack and Luke?" The other girl asked, trying to control the rising sense of desperation that threatened to overwhelm her.

Ellie frowned, but held Beth's gaze. "We're all in this together aren't we? We're not going anywhere without them. I guess for a while we will have to play along. Until we work out what's really going on here."

Beth shook her head a little. "I'm not sure I really want to know."

"But it's the only way we have a chance of getting out of this damn place. Witch Town, for God's sake, what a stupid name!"

Her friend tried to smile, but it died on her lips and a tear crept down her face. "I still can't believe it's real." She knew how pathetic this sounded, but she couldn't help herself. "This was supposed to be a holiday. This was supposed to be..." She trailed off, realising that it was pointless.

"We need to be strong. You and me. I know it's hard, but it's the only way we have a chance."

This time Beth nodded. "I know," she managed, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

Her friend gave a nod too, one of determination. "It will be okay...I promise." But even as Ellie said the words she knew that it was a promise she doubted she could keep.

"I want to see my sister."

Zack was ready to use force if he had to. He squared off with Jeremiah, even though in his heart he understood it wasn't really the man's battle to fight.

Jeremiah just regarded him steadily, his body relaxed. "I will see what I can do," he spoke mildly and Zack let some of the tenseness he had felt subside, realising that he was being foolish.

Luke watched them both carefully, not knowing how things were going to play out. But he was ready to support his friend in whatever he choose to do. For Luke, this whole bizarre situation was almost comical if it wasn't so potentially dangerous. After all, how could there be real witches? It was ridiculous. But he had witnessed the way that that the red cloaked woman had hurt Zack with apparently just a word. And what was more, he sensed something odd about this entire place, something that seemed to make his skin prickle as if there were unseen forces at work, powerful undercurrents that pulsed and vibrated the very air around them.

"Luke," Zack's voice cut through his thoughts and he turned towards his friend. "Are you okay?"

"As okay as anyone can be in the mess we're in."

Zack just gave a nod. It was all that was needed. He turned his attention back to Jeremiah. "Please try to find out what's happened to Ellie and Beth." He paused, searching for the right way to continue, struggling with conflicting emotions. "I would...we would both be in your debt if you could help us."

This gained a look from the man that was hard to read, but there was something in his eyes that said the words had affected him in some way. "They are staying at the Old School House for the time being, at least until after The Testing."

Both boys gazed at Jeremiah apprehensively. "What's the testing?" Luke asked slowly, not liking the sound of it one bit.

The man eyed him for a moment, as if unsure of what to say. "Once a daughter comes of age..." He paused, taking in both boy's confused expressions. "At the age of sixteen years they become a Mother."

"A what!?" Zack blurted.

Jeremiah looked almost embarrassed "No, please do not misunderstand me. This is merely the title given to those who pass The Testing."

Both Zack and Luke let out the breath they had been holding. "So what exactly is this testing?" Zack wanted to know.

Now Jeremiah seemed uncomfortable, as if regretting telling them as much as he already had. But he went on nonetheless."When a Daughter becomes a Mother she must prove she has the gift of the Word. She must prove she is of the true lineage. Then she will join one of the Covens and take her rightful place."

Luke gave this some thought and then asked the question that that was turning over in his mind, nagging at him with uneasy persistence. "And what if they don't prove it?"

Jeremiah cast his eyes downward. He obviously did not want to answer. But eventually he did. "There is no place here for a Daughter who has false lineage. Only death awaits those who have no place in Witch Town."

The girls wanted answers. No, they needed answers. And they were determined to get them.

When their door finally opened and a young woman in perhaps her early twenties entered, both Ellie and Beth confronted her, their expressions resolute.

"Will you please tell us what is going on here?" began Ellie.

"Why are you keeping us prisoners!?" demanded Beth forcefully, her body tensing.

The young woman took an involuntary step backward. She had a Blue scarf around her neck and she clutched at it briefly, perhaps a little nervously. "Please," she offered, "please calm yourself." She had a kind expression, far more so than any of the women they had previously encountered.

"Will you tell us?" asked Ellie, her voice just as strong, but her tone slightly softer.

"Let me introduce myself first," the woman said, "I am Allana of the Blue Coven. Can I ask your names?"

Both Ellie and Beth were a little taken aback by the formality and bristled at first, but then Ellie gathered herself and managed to answer with some show of courtesy. "I'm Ellie and this is Beth. But that's not important. We need to know where the two boys we came here with are?"

Allana regarded them gravely for a few seconds. "I have been appointed by the Council to be your escort until after The Testing."

"You didn't answer the question," Beth stated, choosing to ignore what the woman had said.

This only gained a frown from Allana.

"My brother! Our friend!" Ellie snapped, all thoughts of civility lost.

"They are in the Husband Quarter. They are of age are they not?"

Beth shook her head. "This is getting ridiculous!" She hesitated, recalling how the other woman had controlled her with just a single word and how she had felt so utterly powerless. Her mind had still been her own, but her body had been paralysed. It had only lasted for a few minutes but it was more than enough for her to understand that she was vulnerable to these people, whoever and whatever they really were. "If you are supposed to be our...escort," she went on more carefully, "shouldn't you explain to us how things work here?"

This made the woman smile, one that was both relieved and sincere. "Yes, of course. That is my appointed task. All Daughters are advised by an escort before The Testing. It is tradition."

"The Testing?" asked Ellie, "what is it?" She felt very uneasy, something within her stirring. Anxiety, fear, anticipation. She was almost light headed with it.

"You must both be tested. One, or even both of you, will become a Mother. It must be so, or you would not have been able to enter Witch Town. In with power, out with power. Your friends are merely men, so they were only able to enter with you. Do you already know if you possess the gift?"

Ellie glanced at Beth, but the other's girl's expression was blank. "We don't even know what you're talking about. All we want is to get out of here. Can't you tell us how to do that. We won't tell anyone about this place and what goes on here, we promise." She was becoming increasingly desperate, as if her life depended on it. And deep inside her heart, that's exactly what she believed.

Allana just looked confused. "You can't leave now. Perhaps in time, if you become a Mother and there is work for you beyond Witch Town. But for now, you must prepare."

Beth tried a different approach. "So what do we get tested on?" She threw a quick look at her friend. "I'm rubbish at maths so I hope it's not that!" It was a lame joke, but for Beth it was a coping mechanism, always had been.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Allana went to the door. "Would you like me to give you a tour of the town?"

Ellie brightened at this. "Yes please," she replied quickly. "Can you show us where our friends are staying?"

But the woman only gave a solemn shake of her head. "That may prove difficult. At least until after The Testing. But all the Sons will be at The Dance when new Mothers choose a spouse."

"Choose what!?" Beth nearly spat out the words.

Allana seemed perplexed at the girl's reaction. "Spouse. All Mothers take one once they have passed The Testing."

Both Ellie and Beth had no idea how to respond. They were clearly in some kind of cult community and were in the biggest trouble of their relatively short lives. Ellie summed it up succinctly in her mind. They were in the deep stuff!

"So much to look forward to," Beth offered dryly without any real humour.

"Shall we go," Allana questioned, obviously finding both girl's attitudes difficult to fathom.

Neither Ellie nor Beth paused to consider. Both of them understood that this had become a game now, despite their unwilling participation. So they would need to play to win. It was a game that they could not afford to lose if they were to have any chance of ever getting out of this place.
6

Okay. Witch Town. The name says it all doesn't it? Don't ask me what is going on here because I haven't got a clue. All I know is that we need help really badly. And no one here seems ready to give it. I haven't seen Zack or Luke for hours and Beth is really struggling to cope. But then, so am I. Who wouldn't? Like I said, this is Witch Town. Just your average kind of place where witches hang out. When I get out of here I'm heading straight back to therapy. It's clearly where I belong!

The sky was darkening. Ellie had almost forgotten about time. It had lost all meaning for her. But now she realised that it was getting late. How long had they been here?

She slipped her hand into her pocket, trying to seem casual and slid out her mobile.

Still no damn signal.

Both girls had left their bags in the boot of the car. But there wasn't much in them that would help them now anyway.

They walked along a wide street. The buildings stood ominously either side. Ellie didn't know the first thing about architecture, but they were all in a style that screamed of the past. In fact everything here seemed curiously old fashioned, right down to the way the people dressed and even the way that they spoke.

Allana was giving them a guided tour of Witch Town. But Ellie's mind kept wandering. She thought about the things they had been told. About The Testing. She searched her memories. Had she ever felt anything...unusual within herself. The truth was she had always felt odd. She had never really fitted in. Hence, the therapy sessions. That was a bit of a giveaway. She almost smiled to herself.

"There is our library. Many of the books have been written by our own people over the centuries." She pointed out the building opposite "And we have our two schools. One for the Daughters and one for the Sons." The girls nodded politely, despite the fact that it was all too weird for words. "You have already been within The Council of Five," Allana was saying, gesturing at the imposing building before them. "Here the five Covens convene to debate and judge. The Covens are defined by their colour. Blue, White, Green, Red and Black. There are also five levels of ability that can be obtained, although only a Head of a Coven can become a Five. I have reached level two so I wear the scarf that signifies my status. Level one wear a ribbon, level three a belt, while level four wear a sash. A Mother who attains level five wears a cloak," she added with obvious reverence. "You will learn these things better in time."

The two girls listened attentively now.

"Levels?" Beth queried. "What do the levels mean?" She was interested, despite herself.

Allana nodded as if this was a very reasonable question and one she was used to answering.

"The gift of the Word has five levels. A Mother must master the Words to be worthy of that name. It is our birthright."

"So these words, what are they? I'm guessing some kind of magic?" She felt stupid for even saying such a thing, but how else could she phrase it. These people were witches for God's sake!

"The power of the Word could be called magic. In the past..." A cloud of sorrow and perhaps fleeting anger passed over her face now, "it was called witchcraft. But it is ancient power. Passed down by our ancestors."

Ellie tried to take this in. "Ancestors?" she questioned, "Who were they exactly?"

"You have heard of the witch hunts of the past, have you not?" Allana asked with an intensity that was startling. "They killed many of us. And many of their own because of their blind stupidity." She looked down, her emotions too great for her, before continuing in a more subdued tone. "Of course we fought back, but our numbers were too few. But in the end, a bargain was struck. A binding contract that meant we could live unprovoked and free of persecution. Witch Town was the solution. Hidden from the outside world by our power and so protected from their ignorance and their blood lust. And the Lords of the outer world left us alone and we in turn remain here." She paused as if in thought. "For the most part anyway."

Ellie and Beth didn't know what to say. "Those pendants you wear, what are they?" It was Beth who eventually asked the question.

The woman absently touched the translucent stone at her breast. "The Spirit Heart." She said this with a quiet sense of awe. "Through this we channel our power." She pulled back her hair from her neck and turned slightly to show the two girls something that caused them both to gasp involuntarily. The chain around her neck had some kind of metallic tube connected at the back of her neck and it was buried deep within her flesh. There was no sign of a wound or scarring.

"What is that!?" Ellie managed to whisper.

Allana let her blonde hair fall back to cover her neck again. "Every word of power carries a cost. Through this we pay the price to wield that power." Ellie just stared in disbelief. The woman's attitude was so matter-of-fact now. "It is our heritage, we of the old ways. Daughters to Mothers. It has always been so."

"Are you all like that?" Ellie could hardly bring herself to accept what she had seen. It seemed so brutally invasive.

"All Mothers wear a SpiritHeart. Each amulet is unique. After The Testing you may have the privilege yourself."

Beth just gawked at the woman. "You have got to be joking."

"It is no joke," Allana stated sternly.

"So these levels," Ellie asked, trying to get her head around it all. "Is everyone equal, you know, on each level? Does it work like that?" Something within Ellie really wanted to know, something buried deep within. It was as if her need to understand was rising up, hungry for knowledge.

"Even those who attain the same level can be stronger or weaker in different ways. Some excel in combat, while others have a greater aptitude for Words of influence or healing. Some also have far more resistance against the power of the Words themselves. We all aspire to become as accomplished as possible. But some of us are blessed with a greater gift of the spirit than others. Some...," a small frown passed swiftly across her features, "never progress. Their talent is small." The young woman nodded as if affirming something to herself. "But this is the way it must be."

"And what about the men?" Beth pressed, wanting to know more, finding everything she was hearing horribly fascinating.

"The men know their place," retorted Allana. "They have their purpose. They farm, they build. They provide us with offspring."

Beth gazed back at the woman with a growing sense of uneasiness. "You're not much into equality here are you!?"

Allana made no response, as if Beth's comment was irrelevant and she walked on and began to talk about other buildings on the street.

But Beth couldn't shake what she had just heard from her thoughts. What were those disgusting pendants that had somehow been connected to their flesh. It was horrible. And what was it with the status quo in this place? It was women's lib gone nuts and she actually considered herself to be a bit of a feminist. She wondered how the men really felt about it. And for that matter, what this meant for Zack and Luke. She really missed them, especially Zack. But now was not the time for pining. Now was the time for concentration and deliberation. She would not roll over and die. Even if she was in a constant state of shock and dread.

She and Ellie were together. That was at least something.

"Tomorrow we will find work for you," Jeremiah was saying. It was dark outside now and Zack was debating whether he should just push past the man and go and search for the girls. He sized up his obstacle and thought he had a fifty-fifty chance of getting past him. But with Luke's help it should not be a problem. True, Jeremiah was older and certainly appeared fit and well built, but two against one was promising odds.

"You know we aren't going to just go along with this, don't you?" It was Luke who said it. As ever he was in tune with Zack's thinking. Despite the fact that the two boys were very different in so many way, they had always had a bond in terms of the way they saw things. It was a mutual understanding of how things worked and what needed to be done.

Jeremiah looked at them both in turn. "I will not try to stop you, if that's what you are asking." He said this matter-of-factly.

This caught Luke by surprise and he wasn't at all sure how to respond.

"So we can just walk out of here?" Zack asked, knowing full well that something didn't add up.

Jeremiah just went and sat down at a table. "As I said, I won't try to stop you." He hesitated, placing his hands on the wooden surface. "But others will."

Both Zack and Luke couldn't help but feel a chill at these words. "The women you mean?" Luke offered, feeling more and more uncertain and edgy.

"The Mothers, yes. They will not let you leave. Not that you could without their power anyway. But they will not allow you to disobey. They will hurt you if you resist. As they already have done." He gestured briefly towards Zack.

Now each of the boys felt very stupid for having believed they could fight their way out of there.

"We really are trapped here, aren't we," Luke said dismally, something in the pit of his stomach contracting and beginning to ache dully.

Zack went over to where Jeremiah sat and stood over him. "Why is it like this? How did it get this way?"

The man didn't look up. "It has always been this way. We follow the old ways in Witch Town. Any man who questions this has been severely reprimanded. And taught to accept the wisdom of the Mothers."

"And what about you? Do you actually agree with all of this?" Zack couldn't believe the man really accepted things as they were.

"What choice do I have?" he countered. "Those who have power make the rules." It was a simple statement, one that could not be contradicted.

Ellie and Beth were back in their room. Even though they had considered making a break for it, they knew full well that it was pointless. They had no idea of where to go. Even if they found the boys how could they get out?

It was very dark now. A small candle burning on a stand was the only light in the room. The two girls sat side by side on one of the beds.

"Tell me something," Beth said keeping her voice low, "Have you ever, you know, felt like you could do something..." She felt really stupid asking. "Magical?"

Ellie gave her friend a long suffering look. They may be in a terrible situation but they still had the same relationship. One that was very important to both of them. "Oh yes, I'm certainly magical!"

Beth gave her a push in the ribs. "I'm not trying to be funny here," she began with a quick smile, "but they say that one of us is like them." She stopped and her expression darkened.

"Could be both of us," Ellie said without really believing it.

Beth didn't think so either. "I would have known if there was something. And there isn't. I'm not a witch." She felt utterly ridiculous as soon as the words left her mouth and looked embarrassed.

"So that only leaves me," countered Ellie, now very serious.

Beth said nothing for a few moments and then gave her friend's hand a squeeze. "It doesn't mean anything. You are who you are. If you can do this stuff then great. Use it to get us out of here."

Ellie managed a smile and a nod of her head. Practical Beth. Never one to stand by and let life get the better of her. "So are we supposed to sleep? Ready for a big day in the morning?"

"The Testing," the other girl said with a certain amount of reluctance. Neither said anything more for a long time. "And I'll tell you something else," Beth's voice finally piped up. "They're not sticking anything in my neck however well I do on this damn test!"

Ellie couldn't help laughing, even though she was scared. She needed some kind of release anyway. The whole situation was so tense and overwhelming.

They set about getting ready to try to sleep. They had checked the door. It was locked. The windows were the same. And even if they broke the glass they were on the second story of the building and would probably fall and break their necks if they attempted to climb down.

Trapped.

Ellie understood that they were running out of options. She just hoped the boys were faring better.

But although she wished this with all her heart, she was beginning to understand that here hope was in short supply. And worse still, if she really was one of them. A witch for God's sake! She trembled at the thought. What would that mean for Beth, Zack and Luke?

7

Today I'm going to be tested. To find out if I'm witch material! If I am, I guess I'll be one of them. I'll be in with the in crowd! And then what? Live here happily ever after? I really don't think so. The first chance I get I'm out of here. Along with Beth, Zack and Luke. We came here together. We get out of here together. Witch or no witch.

Zack hadn't slept at all. He had lain awake contemplating the madness that was his life. Luke had fared slightly better, sleeping fitfully.

Light streamed in through the solitary window of their small room and Zack waited. It was very early and already the sound of movement in the adjoining room told him that Jeremiah was up and about.

So what would happen today? They were supposed to work, become part of the community, settle into Witch Town life. Zack had turned things over in his mind all through the long night, considering possibilities, weighing up options. And he had come to some difficult conclusions.

Number one: the women...the witches, were obviously very dangerous and as crazy as he knew it to be, they could hurt people by just uttering words. He had seen it, felt it. It was a fact however much he might struggle to accept it.

Number two: Ellie and Beth were now caught up in this somehow. And as far as the witches were concerned, at least one of them was a witch in training. It didn't get any easier to swallow.

Now he came to point number three. The one that sent a chill through him and had left him in a cold, clammy sweat. If either Ellie or Beth wasn't a witch, they intended to kill them. That's what Jeremiah had said. Which finally led him to his final conclusion. Number four. They would have to get out of Witch Town before this 'testing', whatever it actually was and before these people found out that the girls were not witches at all and they had just stumbled into this hell hole by some freak accident.

There it was. Very straightforward when you spent all night looking at the situation from every angle. All he had to do now was act on it.

Luke stirred in the other bed.

"Are you awake?" asked Zack in a whisper.

The other boy turned his head. "I was hoping it had all been an especially weird nightmare." There was no humour whatsoever in his tone.

"It is a nightmare, but it's a real one. So now we have to fight back."

Luke pushed himself up into a sitting position. "I'm listening."

So Zack told him his plan.

The girls were taken to a place Allana had not shown them the evening before. Obviously this had been a deliberate omission, because it was at the centre of the town and when they arrived there it was difficult to miss.

The town square was a paved area of blue stone and set at the heart of it was a raised wooden platform. But it was what stood upon this structure that caused both Ellie and Beth to stop in their tracks and stare with a sickening, queasy feeling in their stomachs.

A gibbet complete with hangman's noose loomed down over them.

And of course they were not the only ones present there. A small delegation from each of the five Covens were there to observe.

"Come forward," ushered a woman they had not seen before who wore green. The girls walked on hesitantly, feeling more and more terrified. What on earth did these women have in mind for them? The noose above swayed in a light breeze and Ellie tried to turn away her gaze from it but found that it transfixed her. "Now," the woman continued, "you will take your places on the platform."

Ellie didn't even need to look at Beth to know they would both have the same answer to this.

"No way." It was Beth who voiced it.

Both girls stood side by side with identical expressions of defiance.

"You refuse?" came the voice of the woman in green.

"You bet your life we do!" responded Beth, almost shouting it.

There were several long moments of silence, all of the women assembled watching them. Finally there was movement among their ranks and the elderly woman who had called herself Margaret of the Black Coven came forward. Her cloak shifted around her and Ellie had the brief impression of a great bat, it's wings extended for flight. She regarded them both impassively, her lined face serene. "I think that we both understand that only one of you is of our lineage. Only one." she said this with quiet conviction. "Why don't we make this less difficult for all of us."

Ellie shot Beth the briefest of glances. Once again she searched her mind, looking for even the slightest sense that she might possess the kind of ability these women were suggesting but there was nothing there. Yes, she had felt some strange kind of déjà-vu about this place, but surely that didn't really mean she was a Goddamned witch!

"Maybe you've got it completely wrong," Beth said forcefully. "Maybe neither of us are witches! I'm sure you've made mistakes before."

The old woman shook her head. "No mistake," she intoned. "In with power, out with power. One of you opened the way. Now you must wear the Spirit Heart and become who you were born to be." From behind her another of the women walked forward holding one of the crystal amulets. She wore a white cloak but said nothing. She held only one. It seemed that they had known all along that it wasn't both of them. "Who will take it?" the black cloaked woman enquired with a benign smile. Both of the girls moved away from her. Neither wanted anything to do with it. The old woman's eyes twinkled with mirth. "You really cannot escape your destiny you know."

And with that, with a speed that was startling, the amulet flew from the other woman's hands as if under its own control and wrapped itself around Ellie's throat.

She barely had a moment to blink in shock. Then she felt something sharp penetrate the back of her neck. Her hands came up to pull at it, to stop it, but it was all too fast. She cried out, not really in pain, more in horror at what was happening to her.

Beth had moved away from her, more because she had just wanted to get away from the amulet, but now she stared at her friend with both terrible fear and an awful, gut wrenching sadness.

"The testing is complete," Margaret stated. "A new Mother has been chosen. We welcome you among our ranks." It all sounded so simple, so matter-of-fact.

Ellie's hands reached up with the intention of ripping away the chain from her throat, but even as she touched the metal links, her fingers slowed . She felt light headed, confused.

She tried to clear her mind, but the amulet felt somehow right resting against her, as if it she was meant to wear it. Even the base of her neck tingled with a curiously pleasant sensation. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

"So now what!?" Beth screamed the words. "What happens to me!?" She was terrified, her body beginning to shake and tears ran down over her face.

The old woman regarded her for a moment. "There is no place here for any female who is not of our lineage. You are an interloper. You are a descendant of those who persecuted us. You trespass here and you have broken the contract that was made with us. There is only one punishment and that is death."

Beth almost fell over as she staggered backwards with the impact of the words. "What...?" she managed, her eyes wide with horror.

But now there was a disturbance from somewhere behind them. All eyes turned away from the girls and there was the sound of anger and dismay amongst them.

Ellie saw her brother and Luke move towards them, the women allowing them passage by stepping aside and creating a channel. Walking slowly between the two boys was a middle-aged woman with a black ribbon in her hair. Her eyes flashed with anger and humiliation. But she said nothing. She could not because her mouth had been bound by some kind of cloth.

Zack and Luke had her by her arm on either side and each boy also had their fingers curled around the chain around her neck. Their grip was very tight.

Margaret moved forward to confront them and there was a look of fearful horror on her face. "What are you doing!?" she demanded. "What is this!?"

"Don't say anything!" Zack bellowed, his grip visibly tightening on the chain.

The woman took a step backward and it seemed she would speak, but then thought better of it and remained silent, but in her eyes a dreadful fury burned.

They came to a halt maybe ten paces away from Ellie and Beth. Zack searched his sister's face trying to assess the situation and whether she was okay. Then he saw the amulet around her neck. "No..." he said softly, his throat constricting with emotion. "You bitches," he hissed and then tried to collect himself, forcing himself to continue. "Listen to me and listen carefully," he ordered, his eyes darting about him. "If any of you even breath another word we will rip this thing off." Luke said nothing but his unwavering gaze said all that was needed. All of the woman glared at the boys. But there was complete silence. "So this is how it's going to be, " the boy continued, feeling a little more sure of himself. The truth was he wasn't entirely certain that this plan would work, but it appeared to be getting the desired reaction. "We are getting out of here. And you are going to let us go. I'm not making any promises about what happens once we're out. But I really don't care what happens here. I don't care about your sick little community. All I want is for you to leave us alone." His voice was rising with the passion and the anxiety he was experiencing. He gestured at Ellie and Beth and the girls quickly moved to join him.

The witch in the white cloak raised her hand as if she were in a classroom asking for permission to speak, her eyes locked on Zack. The boy regarded her intently, caught in two minds. "If I let you speak, you had better choose your words very carefully." He was counting on the fact that any word of power used could only affect one of them at a time. But he also knew how easily that assumption could be proven to be wrong.

The woman actually smiled at him. "You are a resourceful young man. We are impressed." She gestured grandly with her hand to include the other women. "But you cannot really believe you will be able to leave."

Zack's eyes narrowed. "I said to be careful." He gave the chain just the slightest of tugs and the girl wearing it became very still, her breathing becoming faster.

The witch nodded her head in agreement. " I will be," she said calmly, "but you have made two small errors. Shall I shed some light on your mistakes?"

The boy shifted nervously, sensing that something was wrong. He looked about, taking in Ellie, Beth and Luke. The woman who they had gagged stood impassive between the two boys. It had been far easier to slip away from Jeremiah than they had expected. The man gave no chase when they went. And the woman wearing a black ribbon was the first they had come across who was alone. Zack had tried his best not to be too rough, but it had been a necessary evil as far as he was concerned. They had not asked to be put in this position.

"So let's hear it then," he growled, his patience fraying at the edges.

"Firstly," she began in a soft, crooning voice, "you believe your sister wants to leave. But have you thought to ask her."

This caught Zack off guard and he turned sharply to stare at Ellie. But she just looked back at him with her familiar hazel eyes. There was no dreadful change, no sign that she was anyone other than the sister who he loved so much. "She's coming with us," he bellowed, "so you can stop playing your stupid games."

Luke and Beth were eager to turn and get out of there and kept glancing from Zack to the woman and back again. Only Ellie appeared composed and in command of herself.

"We will see," the white cloaked witch uttered with unnerving self-assurance, "but there is a second error. One which will surely be your undoing."

Now Zack felt truly unsettled, something in the woman's tone screaming at him that they were in serious trouble. But he could not think what it could be. Where was the flaw in his plan? "I'm waiting to hear my big mistake," he managed to say in a passably cocky manner.

"Well, my boy, it is quite obvious. Your mistake is to think that we would ever be concerned at the loss of just one Mother if it meant protecting our community. A very foolish mistake." She paused, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Control," she breathed.

Several things happened at once then. There was the sound of Margaret's voice, a single word shouted in terror. "No!" But even as Zack registered this, he let the chain slip out of his fingers, his mind receding, fading. Luke made a strangled grunt and pulled with every ounce of strength he had, the amulet ripped away from the woman's neck.

There was screaming, but whether it was the woman herself or other witches or indeed Beth or Ellie it was impossible to know.

Zack watched it all, his mind now no longer his own. He just stood there as a voice whispered in his mind, a scuttling thing that moved through his thoughts, blocking them, altering them, forcing him to do their bidding. He looked on impassively and saw the witch with the black ribbon in her hair grab wildly at her neck, her fingers reaching around to the place where the chain had been implanted in her flesh. She cried out wordlessly and then something appalling began to happen to her. The skin on her face paled visibly, becoming Blue and mottled. It was as if the very life force within her was seeping out. And as it left, her body was becoming blackened, brittle, like some tormented shadow. Within moments, all that was left was something more akin to stone, just a dark shape, a mockery of humanity. It stood there for several long seconds, the black ribbon fluttering against the ebony of the woman's face and then very gradually at first, before becoming increasingly rapid, the form started to crumble and fall away, collapsing into a pile of ash.

Now there was utter silence. No one moved, no one made any kind of sound.

Finally, it was Margaret who approached what had once been one of her fellow Mothers. She stood over the remnants and there was something terrible in her gaze. "No," she spoke quietly, "No!" Her eyes moved inexorably to Luke. The boy couldn't say or do anything. He was in shock. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed and he felt sick inside. "Suffocate," she whispered in a voice choked with grief and as Luke's eyes locked on her, something caught in his throat, a tightening around his larynx. He gasped and his hand moved to touch his Adam's apple as he struggled for breath.

And then just as it seemed he was falling away, his body becoming disconnected from him, somewhere distantly he heard another word spoken, a word that seemed to ring with force. "Protect!"

Luke slumped forward, air rushing back into his lungs. And through watery eyes he saw two women facing each other. One was old, the other very young. But in that moment they seemed equal.

The elderly witch glowered with ferocity and something else far more potent. Disbelief. But the girl who stood before her only looked on with resolute determination. And all around Luke he saw that a amorphous form hung, a shield of light. He understood then that Ellie had saved him and he let out a small sob.

But even though he felt relief, his rational mind would not relent.

Ellie stood alone. One against many.
8

You should be careful what you wish for. Trust me on this. Don't daydream about being different from everyone else unless you really know what that means. Being really different will leave you utterly alone sooner or later. And when you find yourself in that place, you will soon realise that it was far easier to blend in and be one of the crowd. I know what I'm talking about, believe me. I know because now I have become something that sets me apart from everyone I love.

"Stop!" cried out a voice, full of command. It was the witch who wore the white cloak and all eyes turned towards her. Even Ellie's gaze was drawn away from Luke and what she had somehow created around him. There was no doubt in her own mind that it was she who had done it. Something deep within her had stirred and moved, a force beyond anything she had ever experienced. Despite the fact that she still felt horrified that the amulet had invaded her flesh, something that felt startlingly alien, there was still another part of her being that accepted its presence and acknowledged its place there.

The elder witch in black glowered at her counterpart in white. "Diana is dead," she said this as if not quite believing. "And you, Abigail," she glared at the woman with open hostility, "you let her die. A sacrifice you were willing to make." They held a long, meaningful look, but then she returned her attention to Ellie and there was a cold determination in her gaze. "This is now a matter of combat between the girl and I."

The other woman only regarded her calmly. "I am sorry for the loss of your daughter." This was spoken with little show of compassion and now Ellie looked upon the elderly woman in a different light. Her grief was palpable in her lined, weathered features. "But it was necessary," Abigail went on. "Even so, I cannot let this continue."

"You cannot? Do you presume to instruct me? Would you intervene on behalf of murderers!?" Margaret spat the words.

Abigail gave a rueful look around, taking in the boys and then finally Ellie. "The White Coven makes an offer to the new Mother," she said with clarity so that everyone heard. "We offer her a place within our House."

This caused an audible stir amongst those in attendance.

Margaret of the Black Coven almost snarled her response. "No! This is not the time for that! Do not interfere."

"You cannot deny the right of a Coven to offer a new Mother a place and once offered, she is under our protection, " responded the other woman evenly.

Margaret's expression became ferocious and was terrifying to witness. "This...Mother has transgressed. She has protected these vile killers. Did you not witness this yourself Abigail, are you so blind!? Or is it merely that your blind ambition motivates you?"

"We all saw what there was to see," Abigail said coldly. "These others," she gestured with her hand to indicate Zack, Luke and Beth, "will have to face our judgement. But you cannot deny the old laws. A Mother must choose their Coven. And any Coven can offer a new Mother incentive to join them. This is our way."

Margaret's face contorted with fury and it seemed she would say something, but before she could speak, another woman, this time clad in a green cloak stepped forward from the crowd of onlookers.

"I, Rosemary of the Green Coven, offer this new Mother a place within our House."

Now there was an excited buzz amongst everyone there.

Zack, whose head was slowly clearing, allowing his own thoughts to take precedence over the consciousness that had infected his mind, struggled to make sense of what happening. Luke, on the other hand, tried desperately to not let his eyes keep returning to the charred mass that lay on the ground before him. He was feeling physically sick and he was finding it difficult to remain upright. While Beth's eyes never left those of Ellie, trying to read her friend's thoughts, trying to figure out if she was still the same person who she had known for so long.

For Ellie none of these things seemed to really matter. She was aware of what was going on around her, but in a distant, almost dream-like way. It was all beyond her understanding. Now the woman in the red cloak came forward, her eyes glittering with both displeasure and something far more potent, greed. "I, Isobel of the Red Coven also offer a place."

"As do the Blue Coven," came another voice and everyone looked to see a white haired witch wearing a cloak of blue join the others.

Now a strange silence fell among them and all turned their attention back to Margaret. Her focus was set solely on Ellie. She appeared to be debating something internally, her expression clouded by uncertainty. Her eyes moved restlessly to the two boys, anguish scarring her features.

Finally she spoke, the words coming slowly but with undeniable force. "So be it. I offer a place in our House to the new Mother. " The old woman's gaze strayed to the pile of ash that had once been her daughter and she strangled a sob.

Beside Zack he heard one of the woman whisper to her neighbour and in her voice there was unmistakable awe. "All five."

Now everyone watched Ellie. But she had no idea what she was supposed to do or say.

Then Abigail moved to stand beside her. "Now you must enter a time of deliberation while you consider which Coven you will choose. And each Coven will offer you an inducement to join with them. This is the way of Witch Town."

Ellie tried her best to get to grips with what was being said to her. "And what about my friends?" she asked, ready to fight if their safety was threatened again.

The congregation of witches appeared content to let Abigail speak on their behalf. "They will be held to await judgement." Already many of the witches had gathered closer to the two boys and the girl and seemed ready to take action against them if they felt it necessary.

For Ellie there seemed little choice. She had made her stand. And she now understood that she was indeed one of them. A witch. She wanted to feel sick at the very idea. But the truth was she didn't. She felt power pulsing through her. Like electricity. And it excited her.

I am a witch, she thought. I have come home. Home to Witch Town.

Zack and Luke were back in their room. They were surprised that this was where they would wait while the witches decided what to do with them. They had expected some kind of prison cell.

Outside Jeremiah was apparently on guard, accompanied by three other burly looking men. Zack felt little confidence in fighting their way out now.

Luke just gave him a dismal look, but said nothing. And the truth was Zack had no idea of what to say either. Everything was insane. They really hadn't meant to hurt that woman, not really. But she was dead. He struggled with the memory. Also, he still felt violated, his mind reeling with the sensation that someone had been able to take over his thoughts and influence him from within. It was terrible in a way that he was finding very difficult to process. And Luke was not managing well at all. His eyes said everything. Guilt, shame, horror were all evident there.

"It's not our fault," Zack offered finally, a little feebly.

His friend looked at him for several long moments. "I killed her," he managed, his voice hoarse.

"No," snapped back Zack, his emotions rising, "We didn't know."

Luke's expression became darker than ever. "So what did you think would happen?"

This caught Zack off-guard. "I...," he started and then faltered. He had to face up to the truth. He knew something bad would happen if they were forced to take action against that woman. Of course, he hadn't known exactly what it would be, but he had known. He tried to tell himself that he had believed it would never come to that. But once they had made the threat it was always a real possibility. "I'm sorry," was all he could utter, his eyes beginning to well up.

The other boy turned away and sat down heavily on the bed. "It doesn't matter now. Ellie is one of them. And what chance do we have?"

Zack wanted to say that there was always a chance. But he was finding it hard to believe and the words just would not come.

For Beth, being alone in the room without Ellie was the worst thing of all. She felt so alone.

But who was Ellie really?

She had know her friend since they were just kids together. They had played, occasionally fought, fantasised about boys, all the things best friends do. Ellie was just a girl. Like her. Except now she knew differently.

There were no such things as witches, a voice in her head tried to tell her. But she pushed it violently away.

Grow up!

The voice within that screamed that at her was angry, scared and hurt.

She knew that nothing would ever be the same.

If she was still around to even get a chance to think about it. This thought sobered her and she felt her body begin to tremble.

Beth was determined not to cy. She would not lose it and let these people crush everything that she was.

All grown up now, a small voice said inside her mind. And now I have to face the future, however much is left of it.

Outside she could hear low voices in conversation. The witches were no doubt in deep discussion about her slim prospects for survival.

But Ellie had saved Luke. She had. Beth didn't have the vaguest notion how, but she had seen it. Could Ellie do the same for her? She doubted it, but she hoped all the same. In the end hope was all she had left now.

Ellie waited.

She knew they would come.

But what would they ask of her? Or more to the point, what would they offer?

She now understood that they wanted her. All of the five Covens. And she also knew that this was unusual. She had heard snatches of hushed conversation, enough to realise that something about what she had done had caught the interest of the other witches. Also the way many of them had looked at her had left her feeling uncomfortable and confused. In some eyes she saw something like admiration, but in others there were much more disturbing emotions. She had detected fear. And also jealousy.

The witch named Abigail had said something about inducements. What that meant was anyone's guess. But she sensed she was in a position to bargain. And there was only one thing that she wanted.

Her friend's safety was all that mattered. Whatever leverage she had she would use to protect them. And if all else failed she knew she would fight for them.

She wasn't stupid of course. Ellie knew full well she wouldn't have a chance against so many. But she would not just stand by and do nothing. That was not an option.

There was a knock on the door of the expansive bedroom she had been left to wait in. She didn't know if she was supposed to invite them in, so she said nothing and just stared expectantly at the door.

The knock came again and Ellie decided she had better say something. "Come in," she offered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The door opened and a woman wearing a green cloak entered. She was alone.

"I am Rosemary," she said with a kind smile. "You may remember that I spoke at the Testing."

Ellie did her best to recall, but it was all a bit hazy. "Eh, yes, of course," she murmured.

"It's of no consequence," the woman said with a wave of her hand. "As I think you understand, every Coven has offered you a place. This is...most uncommon."

The girl fixed her with a determined gaze. "Why?"

Rosemary returned her gaze steadily. "You do not know?"

This made Ellie roll her eyes with exasperation. "Of course I don't know. I don't know anything!"

Now the woman altered her expression and she became grave. "The word you spoke, 'Protect'. No Mother has ever used any word beyond level one at The Testing. Never. And 'Protect' is level three."

Ellie tried to take this in. "So what does it mean?" she asked quietly.

For a few moments Rosemary seemed to consider her response. "It means you are a very powerful witch," she stated at length. "With great potential. But you need to be nurtured and supported to develop your ability. That is why it is very important that you chose your Coven wisely."

"And what if I don't want to join any of you!?" Ellie said this with defiance, her eyes flashing.

"What will you do if you do not?" was the simple reply.

With a frustrated sigh, Ellie went and sat down on the bed. "So why you?" She glanced briefly at the woman's green cloak. "All of this colour coded nonsense. How does that work exactly. You're all witches aren't you? What makes you different from the rest? Why should I join you?"

Now Rosemary became business like and moved closer to the girl. "We in the Green Coven are a tolerant and open minded group. We would offer you a safe home to explore your ability. And we would not wish to exploit your gift as some others may wish to."

"Exploit?" voiced Ellie with distaste.

"Yes," confirmed the woman, her tone even, "there are those who would attempt to do so. There are those with agendas that differ from our own."

Ellie thought about this for a while. "So what is your agenda?"

Rosemary raised an eyebrow. "We all have things that we want to achieve. For some these things are small. For others they have a greater goal in mind. The Green Coven only wants to further the prospects of Witch Town."

"Really?" Ellie couldn't help but be sceptical.

"Each Coven varies in size. Ours admittedly is smaller in numbers than the others. But we prefer to think of it as quality over quantity."

The girl found this interesting. "So even here it's all just a popularity contest?"

"Not exactly," Rosemary said, "there are many factors why a new Mother will chose their Coven. Family ties or friendships are one reason. Some of course look to the past."

"In what way?"

"The Blacks always claim they are Rebecca's Coven. But this is misleading. Rebecca led before the creation of the five Houses. It has no bearing on how thing are now."

"So is that your offer?" Ellie was less than impressed. "What about my friends? What will you do to help them?"

It appeared to the girl that Rosemary was fully expecting this as she merely smiled. "There may be a way to save the girl. I can't promise anything. But I will do all I can. But the others. They have committed murder. Nothing can be done for them. When the Council meets to vote there can only be one outcome" This sent a chill through Ellie and she fought not to actually shudder. "Also we will offer land and property as is usual. In your case the offer will be very generous."

"I see," was all Ellie said in return, her mind racing.

"Think on what I have said," the woman advised her. "And choose wisely."

With this she left Ellie alone with her thoughts. And her thoughts were muddled to say the very least.

She was a powerful witch apparently. But she didn't feel very powerful that was for sure.

Okay, it sounded as if something could be done to help Beth and that was a relief, but the boys were in terrible danger. If that was the best she was going to be offered, what chance was there of saving them.

She would just have to hope the next Coven's offer would be more help. How about a one way ticket out of this madhouse. But of course, she was going nowhere. She knew that in the very depths of her being. Everything in her life had changed in a single day. Everything.

And now she would have to do whatever was necessary to see it through until the end.

The offer from the Blue Coven was really little better than the one from the Green. The only difference was the politics. Ellie found that the woman's line about seeking order from chaos and non judgmental acceptance had sounded too much like some hippie cult indoctrination speech.

Actually just now Ellie felt very judgemental indeed. She really wanted to pass down a few judgements on these witches. They were really beginning to grate on her.

And when she had asked the woman who called herself Anna about her friends, all she got was a vague assurance that everything that could be done would be done.

Now alone once more she absently touched the pendant against her chest. She hesitated a moment and then let her fingers reach behind her neck to where the metal joined with her own fresh. It felt alien and yet somehow comforting to have it there.

There was another knock on the door and Ellie called out in a strong voice "Come." She was getting the hang of this now.

The door flew open and Isobel strode in, her red cloak flowing dramatically around her shoulders. She obviously liked to make a big entrance.

Ellie stood silently waiting for the expected propaganda speech to begin, but the woman just eyed her with unnerving intensity.

"I suppose you think you're very special," Isobel said with an edge of contempt that was unmistakable.

The girl held the older woman's gaze. "Not particularly," she replied as casually as she could manage. "But you all seem to think I am."

This brought a scowl to Isobel's face. "Such an insolent child. But you will learn that even the most spirited of children can be tamed."

"If this is your best try at winning me over then you're really messing it up!" shot back Ellie with sarcasm.

Isobel flashed a smile, but her eyes were hard. "So what do you want?"

This caught Ellie by surprise and she had to take a moment to get her thoughts in order. "I want the safety of my friends guaranteed."

The woman nodded very slightly. "Is that all?"

Now Ellie was really on the back foot. "Can you do that? Can you save them? Even Zack and Luke!?"

"There may be a way."

Ellie's heart raced and hope surged within her. "How!? What can you do?"

With an expression that was hard to read Isobel came a little closer to the girl, keeping her voice low. "There are always bargains to be struck, my dear. If the price is the right one."

"So if I join you my friends will all be safe?" Ellie couldn't believe she was actually considering this woman's offer, but she knew she would do whatever it took to protect the others.

"Perhaps," Isobel offered.

Ellie didn't trust her at all but she was becoming increasingly desperate. "So what do the Red Coven stand for exactly?" She didn't really care to tell the truth, but it seemed like the right thing to ask.

Now the woman smiled openly. "Power."
9

So I get to choose a colour? Well my favourite colour is purple, but that one's not on offer! This whole thing is crazy anyway. I don't want to join these people. All I want is to get away from here. Far away. And forget everything that's happened. If I really am a witch and the evidence points to the answer being a big fat yes, then what am I going to do about it? It's not like I can just go back to being ordinary Ellie Landis. No, I have to find out who I really am. And it looks as though Witch Town holds all the answers. Even if what I find out are things I really wish I didn't have to know.

"We can take the girl into our House. As a servant."

Ellie looked at Abigail with little enthusiasm. "I'm not sure Beth will thank me for that."

"Better than the alternative," observed the woman wryly.

It was difficult to argue the point. Ellie found she liked what the Mother from the White Coven had to say a great deal more than anything she had heard previously. There was no lame attempt to persuade her that they represented her best interests. Just some straight forward deal making. You do this, you get that. Ellie could at least relate to that concept.

"So what about my brother and Luke?" It was the one remaining issue and the most challenging one.

Abigail considered this for a few long moments. "There will be a vote by the Council. The law demands that the penalty for murder of one of our own is death."

Ellie knew this only too well. "But what can be done?" She tried unsuccessfully to keep a pleading tone out of her voice.

"I could propose banishment as a alternative judgement."

"But would they accept that? The others?" The girl's hopes ignited momentarily.

"It's not probable," the woman admitted. "But I could try."

"And that's the best that can be done?"

"Unless I have misunderstood the law." From the way that Abigail spoke this seem unlikely.

"The other stuff. The property, my role in the Coven. You know those things are not important to me." Ellie fixed the witch with a fierce gaze. "Only my friends."

Abigail nodded and her expression was compassionate. "We are not all the same here, Ellie. Some of us recognise mistakes have been made in the past. And mistakes continue to be made. But in Witch Town the five Houses vie for control. Some might say that our laws are flawed but then in what institution is it not so? We have to accept and abide by the rules of our ancestors."

The girl nodded absently. She was thinking about so many different things. A dull ache had begun to throb behind her eyes. "Do I have to see anyone else tonight? I'm really tired."

The woman shook her head. "Not if you do not want to. The Black Coven are the only ones left to speak. That can wait until the morning."

"Thank you," said Ellie simply with real gratitude. "I need some time to rest and think about everything."

"Of course. And that is wise. This is a very important decision. More important than you realise now." But Ellie wasn't really concentrating on the woman's words. Her mind was drifting. And in her thoughts there were images of Zack and Luke and Beth. What were they thinking? What were thinking about her? She was a witch after all. It could not be denied. Did they even trust her anymore? "I will inform Margaret that you will meet with her tomorrow. Good night."

Ellie didn't even respond and hardly noticed Abigail leave. Now she was alone once more and she was glad of it.

It was all becoming too much for her and she felt completely exhausted, both mentally as well as physically.

She wondered idly what other Words of Power she could use. She didn't even understand how it worked. She just said something and then it happened? Was that it?

She contemplated trying out a few random words. How about disappear? Or Godzilla power!? But she found little levity in her ideas. It was all too serious and far too grim.

These were matters of life and death. And these people were playing for keeps.

No, there were lives at stake and she was the only one who could do something to save them. There was no time for games. Even though the witch Covens seemed intent on playing them with her.

Ellie knew she would need to negotiate much harder if she was going to win against these people. And now all she had left was the Black Coven to talk to and she found it hard to believe they would offer her anything to help her. But that would have to wait until the morning.

Now she needed to sleep. The idea might seem ridiculous with all that was turning over in her head, but she really was wiped out. Tomorrow she would come up with something. She had to.

Luke's dreams were the worst kind imaginable. He was forced to relive the moment when he had murdered the young woman in the black ribbon over and over again. There was nothing he could do to stop it. The scene played out in exaggerated slow motion. A sickening charade for his entertainment. He felt feverish and his mind whirled, his emotions even within his dream distorted and wild.

Please let it stop. But there was no one to listen. The night crawled by. And he continued to bear witness to his crime.

I didn't know. His pleas to his own mind were ignored and mocked.

You knew. You knew exactly what you were doing.

But it was Zack. Wasn't it his idea, his plan, his fault. The sound of the words in his head reverberated. It was Zack. It was him. Always him.

Take responsibility for your own actions. It was his Dad's voice speaking. Cold and cruel. His Dad had always been so hard on him, expected so much. But he could never live up to those expectations. He was a failure. He knew it only too well.

It's not my fault. It's not.

But the truth was they all knew it was. Zack knew. His Dad knew it too. It was down to him. He had ripped off the necklace and the girl had died. And what if it had been Ellie? In his dream he saw that the woman who was dying had changed her face. Now it was Ellie. She writhed in pain, clutching at her throat.

No, no, no!

Then the girl changed her appearance again and now Beth stood before him. Please, not her.

His feelings began to amplify, to expand, his heart felt too big for his chest. Not Beth. Luke couldn't bear it. He thrashed about, desperate to wake up. Please, please don't kill Beth.

I won't kill her. I promise. I won't. I'll do anything.

Abruptly, he started awake. Opposite him Zack snored gently. Luke felt sweat all over his body and he tried to control his breathing. For a long time he sat up in the bed, holding his hands to his face. He had no idea what could be done to relieve the guilt that he felt. In the end, Luke knew it was his burden to carry. There was no point trying to pass the buck. He felt vaguely ashamed that he had even considered trying to blame Zack. Even if it had only been in his dream.

No, this was his problem. He had done what he had done.

He would have to come to terms with it. Whether he liked it or not.

Margaret seemed preoccupied and Ellie waited patiently for the old woman to speak, but there was only silence. "Did you want to ask me something?" she questioned when she could tolerate it no longer.

The elderly witch shifted her gaze and reminded Ellie of a lizard focusing on their prey. "We offer nothing."

The girl just stared blankly. "Nothing?" she repeated, feeling a little stunned.

"Oh, you can have a house and the usual trappings. But we will make no bargain with you. Why should we?"

Ellie had to admit that she was baffled. "So why are you here then?"

With just a slightest of shrugs, the woman curled her lips as she spoke. "Protocol. Politics. Call it what you wish."

"So you won't try to save my friends?" Ellie was feeling more and more at a loss.

"They deserve to die." It was a simple statement and Margaret seemed to carry the conviction of her words.

"It was self defence!" the girl cried out, her voice shrill.

The old woman's expression became openly hostile. "A single girl alone. Bound and helpless. They murdered her."

"They had no choice," countered Ellie.

"Choice!" roared Margaret, "what choice did Diana have?" The witch paused as her eyes became wide with sorrow. "She was my daughter and they took her from me. How dare you call it self defence. They will die, be sure of it. And I will see it done."

Ellie didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," she offered feebly.

"Do not insult with your hollow apology. You are as much to blame as those you came here with."

Now Ellie felt anger coursing through her, her pent up feelings of frustration and fear threatening to come spilling out. "Who do you think you are anyway!? You forced this on us... all of us. What choice did we have!? You think you're so high and mighty. You think this place is so special! You're nothing! Just some throwback to the past that's not even worth remembering. I wish they had killed all of you when they had the chance!" She felt a little breathless and knew that she had probably gone too far, but it felt good to let rip and tell this old witch what she really felt about her.

"And yet," Margaret breathed softly, "you are one of us." Now Ellie didn't know what to say. Her fury left her all at once. She felt defeated. "There will be a vote," the woman went on as if nothing of any significance had been said. "Two separate votes in fact. One to decide the fate of the girl...this is of little consequence. The other to judge punishment for your friends, the murderers. Five votes. Majority rule."

Majority rule.

Ellie saw that there was no hope. Even if Abigail voted for banishment as she had suggested. Two of the other Covens would have to agree.

It just wasn't going to happen.

Zack and Luke didn't stand a chance.

When there was a knock on the door of Beth's room and Abigail entered, the girl didn't know what to think or say.

"I have been speaking to Ellie," the woman began.

"Is she okay?" Beth blurted out the question, gratefully breaking the tension that she had felt building steadily inside her.

"I don't think it is her you should be concerned about."

Beth took the point. "But she is, you know, alright?"

Abigail nodded. "But your others friends are in grave danger."

This brought a frown to Beth's face that made a look a good deal older than sixteen. "What's going to happen?" Then after a moment's consideration, she added, "why are you here?"

"I am here," the woman told her evenly, "to offer you a position in our House."

"As a witch!?" Beth almost shouted in disbelief.

Abigail gave a wry smile. "As a housemaid."

"A servant!" Now Beth's voice was raised. "What!?"

"Are you forgetting that under normal circumstances trespassers are put to death. You are most fortunate not to find yourself in that position."

Beth looked less impressed than the woman clearly thought she should be. "So why aren't I? What makes me different?"

Now Abigail's expression became much more intense and serious. "It is not you that is different. It is your friend."

The girl tried to absorb this and make sense of it. "Ellie is one of you, I know that." She said this carefully, trying hard not to reveal her true emotions. "But how does that affect me?"

"Ellie wants you to be safe. And she is in a position to bargain at the moment. So my offer stands. Join the White Coven as a housemaid and your safety is assured."

"And Ellie will join you too? Is that it?"

The woman gave a thoughtful pause. "That is my hope."

"So let me get this straight. I actually have a choice in this? Can't you just make me whether I like it or not?" Beth's tone was becoming agitated.

"What would be the value in that?" Abigail asked. "If you are to work in our House, you must be a willing participant. Otherwise it would serve no purpose for anyone."

Thinking this over, Beth eyed the older woman suspiciously. "So what would I have to do?"

"Work with the sons, serve the Mothers. Cook, clean, mend, whatever is needed."

"You make the boys do all the work?" Beth was less than enthusiastic about joining them.

"Boys from the age of eight to sixteen take on domestic duties. Before that from the age of two they have their schooling, separate lessons from the Daughters of course. They learn their place in our society, while the Daughters are taught...other things." Abigail said this last in a tone that made Beth sure she was keeping something back.

"Other things?" She wasn't going to let it go so easily.

When the woman spoke her voice was much harsher than Beth expected. "It is none of your concern. You are not one of us. And you will never be. Either except our offer or suffer the consequences."

Beth understood that for the time being she had very little choice. If Ellie was going to join the White Coven at least she would be near to her friend. They would be able to talk. And maybe make some plans to get away from this place. But even as this thought passed through her mind, another lay just beneath it, nagging at her. What if Ellie didn't want to leave. What if she had found a new home for herself, one where she felt accepted. What if being a witch was what Ellie had always been meant to be.

10

What's the point of having power if you can't do anything with it? I want to teach a few of these damn witches a lesson or two. If I'm so powerful why can't I just bust out of this place!? They say I'm something special and some of them seem scared of me. But not scared enough. I have to save Zack and Luke. But I don't even know how to use these stupid words of power. Well it's not over yet. They can all go to hell if they think I'm going down without a fight!

Both boys were taken to the Council of Five building accompanied by not only four men, but two witches who wore red sashes across their chests. There they were instructed to remain seated while their escorts stood either side in watchful attendance. There was little doubt in either Zack or Luke's mind that if they tried anything it would not go well for them.

After a few minutes the room began to fill with witches from their various Covens and finally Ellie was led in by Abigail and taken to what was obviously a seat of honour over to one side of the auditorium. Zack and Ellie held a look for a moment, but neither said anything. There was enough in that one glance to say that they both understood how serious things really were.

Isobel stood up within the Red Coven's partition and began to speak. "The Council will decide on this day the fate of both the girl, Beth, who came here as an interloper and troublemaker and..."

"Wait," came the voice of Abigail, the sound full of command. The woman in the red cloak glowered at her, but paused somewhat reluctantly. "We offer this girl a place in our House. As a servant...to work with the sons in their domestic duties."

There was low murmuring among many of the assembled witches at this.

Isobel expression darkened further. "Do not think that we do not see this for what it really is, Abigail. No great offer of charity, but a manipulative attempt to gain favour with the new Mother. You think it will be so easy for you to take this girl in and keep her under control? She is obviously a rebel and will undermine your House. You would pay a high price for such a foolish error of judgement, I hope you realise that."

Abigail waved this away with a dismissive hand. "The offer stands. And what is more, she has accepted."

There was more general audible muttering and the tone was unsettled and irritable.

"We do not object." It was Margaret of the Black Coven who spoke, having stood up. All eyes turned to her and there was a sense of puzzlement among the other witches.

"You do not!?" Isobel said, her voice incredulous.

Margaret smiled briefly. "The girl is of no importance. Let the Whites take her. She will be their responsibility."

Others around her made noises of agreement and this was taken up by the other Covens. Even Isobel began to nod, seeing sense in it.

"Then it is agreed?" Abigail stated, her eyes scanning the assembly. Each of the Coven leaders called out their approval.

Ellie glanced around the room looking for Beth but there was no sign of her. She was clearly not considered to be important enough to attend. This made Ellie very uneasy, particularly in view of her own position of privilege.

"Now," continued Isobel in an officious tone, allowing her gaze to fall menacingly upon Zack and Luke, "to the more pressing issue of the punishment for these murderers. It is a simple vote. A life for a life. Or in this case their two lives for one of ours."

"There are other options," Rosemary of the Green Coven said forcefully.

"Other options?" Isobel repeated with disdain, "for the murder of one our own. Pray tell, what other option could there be?"

"Banishment," came the voice of Abigail, eyeing the woman in red with a considered stare.

Anna of the Blue Coven took this opportunity to interject. "Banishment is one possibility. But to where? Can we really risk letting them leave? What would they say to the outsiders? What trouble might they bring down upon us?"

"In with power, out with power," Rosemary intoned. "They would be ignored and ridiculed. No one would believe them."

"So you would vote for this?" It was Isobel who asked the question.

"It may be acceptable," the witch wearing green replied, her eyes momentarily finding those of Ellie.

"It is our proposal," returned Abigail strongly.

"And one for which you will need two other votes to carry," observed Anna, her gaze also moving to Ellie.

"Think carefully," Isobel warned them, "this is a grave matter. Never before has the murder of a Mother been dealt with so leniently. This would create a precedent that could cause serious issues in the future. It would undermine our law. Think on that."

"So you propose death," Rosemary wanted to know, sensing an opportunity to push the Red Coven out of the running for Ellie.

Isobel's eyes narrowed. "Death would be the expected judgement in a case such as this," she began softly, "but there have been other historic penalties. Penalties such as The Piercing for instance."

Now there was loud conversation among the women in the chamber.

"The Piercing is a barbaric and outdated trial," called Abigail, "we have no place for such things now."

Isobel regarded her coolly. "But it is within the law."

No one denied that this was indeed true.

Zack and Luke had watched and listened as this debate went on. When the word banishment had been spoken both of them had began to feel hopeful, but any such optimism had now been most definitely crushed.

"The Piercing may be a compromise," Anna of the Blue Coven mused.

Ellie was beginning to feel more and more desperate and finally got to her feet. "And what exactly is this Piercing anyway!?"

It was Isobel who answered and she seemed to enjoy the opportunity to explain. "It really is not your place to ask, my dear. But as a sign of good will I shall clarify. The Piercing is a test of endurance. One devised in the past to be used against our own kind, but now turned against our enemies. You see, needles are placed into the transgressor and only their survival can prove their innocence. Their death of course indicates their guilt. It is quite straightforward"

Ellie could not believe what she was hearing. "What are you talking about!? Who can survive that!? And where exactly were these needles going to be placed!? You're all lunatics do you know that!?" She was ready to just walk out of there, but one look at Zack and Luke's horrified expressions reminded her that she didn't have that option.

"Usually in the chest, close to the heart," came Isobel's casual reply.

This left Ellie at a loss for words, but Abigail took up the discussion on her behalf. "It may be within the law, but it is a foolish throwback to the ignorance of the past."

"Never call our ancestors ignorant," Isobel said harshly, bristling with anger.

The room began to fill with the argumentative voices of the witches as each Coven disagreed within their own ranks and with neighbouring factions. The noise went on for quite some time until eventually a strong, commanding voice spoke out.

"Silence." It was Margaret of the Black Coven who brought them to order. "It is time to vote. The time for debate is over." She turned to a witch in a black sash who sat behind her and spoke quietly before returning her attention to the Council. "Each coven should take a final moment to speak among their number before their vote is cast."

Each group then began to huddle together to discuss their options. While this went on Zack looked on as the witch who Margaret had just conferred with broke away from her own Coven and made her way through the throng to where Ellie sat alone. There she placed a small parchment into the girls hand without a word and then returned to her own seat.

Luke spoke quietly to his friend as they waited for judgement to be passed on them. "Any bright ideas?"

Zack glanced at the other boy and whispered a reply. "If this goes the way I think it's going to, we had just better hope we get a chance to run before it's too late." He returned his attention to his sister and saw her reading the piece of paper that she had been given.

"To order," Margaret called out and there was a gradual quietening. After a few moments all was still. An ominous tension settled over the room.

Rosemary spoke first. "The Green Coven vote for banishment."

A buzz of hushed voices filled the room, but now Anna of the Blue Coven stood to speak. "We in the Blue Coven vote for The Piercing."

There was a general hiss of irritation from some of the other Covens, notably the Greens.

Abigail uttered her declaration with obvious frustration at this. "We vote for Banishment."

But no sooner had she finished speaking, Isobel countered. "And the Red Coven vote for The Piercing." She eyed the white witch with undisguised contempt.

Finally only Margaret was left to decide the Black Coven's vote. "It seems there is deadlock," she said with a knowing smile. "But it is of little relevance."

The other witches seemed perplexed by this and Isobel's voice rang out. "You have the casting vote do you not, Margaret?"

Margaret gazed back at the witch in red. "I have the only vote."

"What do you mean by that?" Rosemary demanded to know.

Now the woman in the black cloak became grave, her eyes slits of gleaming light. "Would you deny me that right, truly? Diana was mine. Yes, that was her name, if it be forgotten too soon. I claim the right to choose punishment. I demand it by law."

"That is ridiculous," cried Abigail. "There is no such law."

Now there really was a great noise building in the chamber as every Coven quarrelled among themselves.

Isobel's voice bellowed out above the tumult. "We are sensitive to your loss, Margaret. But there is no such law and you know this. Why do you claim otherwise?"

Margaret seemed serene amidst the pandemonium. "She was mine," the old woman repeated.

"We all regret your loss. But it does not change anything." Anna challenged.

Suddenly Margaret bellowed, her voice strangely resonant. "By the ashes of my daughter I make this claim."

Now there was an immediate hush. "We are all Mothers," said Abigail, but her voice was lighter, more subdued.

Margaret gave the other woman a fragile smile. "That is true, Abigail. But would you not ask for the same right if your own was taken?"

Abigail did not answer, her face now pale. "It is not the law."

"We are the law," Margaret shot back at her. "Will you deny me this?"

This seemed to leave Abigail at a loss and she hesitated, unsure.

The others began to murmur amongst themselves. Margaret just waited solemnly for someone to speak.

"It should be so," Rosemary proclaimed for the Greens and both Abigail and Isobel glared at her with undisguised hostility.

Now Anna finished her consultation with her fellow Blue witches. "We also recognise this entitlement."

Isobel went back to more heated debate with the other women in the Red faction. Everyone looked on and waited.

Finally Isobel returned her attention to Margaret. "You ask much," she stated in a neutral tone, "and you set a precedent. But our Coven concedes it is your right."

There seemed little the others could say now and even Abigail was silenced. Although her expression was very strained.

Now the black witch turned her attention to Ellie. "But before we decide their fate, we want to allow the new Mother the opportunity to chose her House."

"What!?" said Abigail in an urgent voice, "That is not permitted. The judgement must come first."

Margaret gave her a patient, indulgent look. "Perhaps you should ask Ellie what she wants to do before you make such an assumption."

Abigail fixed her eyes on the girl. "Very well. What do you say Ellie, surely you want to wait until the decision has been made regarding your friends?" She waited for a response, confident it would be in agreement with her words.

Ellie stared back, her expression one of quiet uncertainty. "I...," she began softly, "want to choose now."

The woman in the white cloak could barely contain her surprise and gaped at the girl with stunned incredulity. "Are you really sure you want to do this?"

Ellie simply nodded and then glanced down at the parchment she held between her fingers. It read: Join the Black Coven and I will save your friends. She lowered her eyes, feeling trapped and powerless.

"So," said Margaret, her eyes intent on the girl, "choose your House."

With only the briefest of pauses, Ellie spoke in a clear, resonant voice. "I choose the Black Coven."

There was a startled silence for several long moments followed by a rising hum of excited sound as every witch began to comment on the new Mother's decision.

Margaret nodded with satisfaction at Ellie and allowed her gaze to take in the other Covens and in particular the countenance of Abigail who looked nothing short of crest fallen. "And finally," she announced, "we have decided the fate of these two men." There was a fixed, determined look on her face now. Zack and Luke had watched all of this with a sense of frustration and confusion, but now both waited with fearful anticipation to hear what was in store for them. "My personal loss cannot be measured." She hesitated, considering her words. "But it is our...my wish to offer mercy in this case."

"No," the voice of Isobel cried out. "This is an outrage!"

Margaret ignored her, something in her gaze that told of resolute intent. "Hard labour will be their sentence. They will work alongside the husbands to pay their debt."

There was a stunned hush among the assembly. "And what will stop them from killing another of us?" Anna contested, just as astounded by the turn of events as everyone else.

Margaret seemed prepared for this. "We will appoint chaperones to watch over them. A second offence would be punishable by certain death. No reprieve. This is my decision."

The other Mothers were obviously bewildered by this judgement, although Abigail expression revealed a knowing, shrewd understanding of the Back witch's pronouncement.

She saw now that The Black Coven had taken charge and taken advantage, securing Ellie as one of their number.

Margaret set her gaze upon the girl. "Welcome to our ranks. You will come to know this Coven as your true home. We will demand your loyalty. And you will give it without question and without hesitation. Is that understood?" Ellie was reeling. She felt as if once again her life had been hijacked and things were changing too fast for her to keep up with. "Is that understood?" the woman repeated with a warning edge.

Ellie regarded her solemnly. "Yes," she replied softly. "I understand."

"That is well," Margaret told her, moving to her side. "now come and meet your new sisters. Come and meet your family."

11

So I am a black witch. At least if I had joined the Whites I could have told myself I was one of the good guys. That is, if there are any good guys here. I really don't know what's going on. They all seem to be up to something. But I am on Team Black now so I guess I need to find out what they have planned for me. As for Zack and the others, at least they're safe. For the time being at least. But what happens next is anyone's guess. I just wish I honestly believed any good could come out of this, but I don't. All I see in my future is more trouble and more danger. Just another day in the new life of Ellie Landis.

It appeared that every Coven had a Guild meeting house and Ellie now found herself inside the one used by the Blacks. Margaret showed her around the extensive interior, its many spacious rooms decorated tastefully with numerous portraits of black clad women. There were also a number of statues, mostly busts, but there was one particularly eye catching full body sculpture, hewn from some kind of black marble in the central hallway. Ellie found her gaze drawn to it and paused to study the features of a striking looking middle-aged woman. "This is Rebecca," Margaret spoke softly with obvious pride and a little awe." "The original Head of the Black Coven. The Head of all witches in fact. That is, until she was murdered. Now we are divided by petty differences and vile ambition."

"She was...murdered?" the girl asked cautiously.

Margaret's expression was quite frightening in its intensity. "Murdered yes. Betrayed. They were never identified. They skulked in the shadows like the vermin they were. They took the life of the one dearest to us all. Our Queen and true Mother."

Ellie found herself intrigued by the words of the old woman. "So the witches were all part of one Coven before? With Rebecca as your leader?"

Margaret nodded solemnly. "She was our Queen. She was the greatest of us all. And she would not have died easily, mark my words."

Ellie was more interested in other things. "So after that, the five Covens were formed? Is that what happened?"

Several women with black ribbons in their hair approached along the corridor and Margaret waited to let them pass before speaking.

The other witches lowered their gaze as they neared them, obviously out of respect for the elderly witch.

"It pains me to speak of it, but yes. In the aftermath of that hideous crime there was no one strong enough to lead. No one could replace Rebecca. It would have been unthinkable. And those that dared to put themselves forward could not command the respect of all. So it was agreed to divide into five separate Covens. But remember this, Rebecca was a Black witch, as were all our ancestors. The others have taken new colours, but they are not true to our heritage. Any witch who does not hold allegiance to Rebecca in their heart is a traitor. You should keep this in your mind at all times. Do not trust anyone who tells you differently. They will be your enemy. They will plot against you and all of your sisters in the Black Coven. And there are many that should not be trusted, whatever colour they may claim to be."

Ellie became thoughtful as she took all of this in, but decided not to pass comment. She understood that there were divisions between the Covens and she also recognised that just because she had found herself manoeuvred into joining the Blacks that didn't mean she had to accept everything she was told by them. Least of all by Margaret.

As she had learned well enough during her relatively short life, there was always two sides to every story.

She wondered if everyone in Witch Town revered the legendary Rebecca quite as much as Margaret did. Whatever the case, she made up her mind to find out.

Beth was presented with a set of new clothes that did nothing to cheer up her miserable mood. She knew she was going to look like something out of some kind of freak show when she put the outfit on. It wasn't even a cute maid's getup, it was drab with a capital D, all in brown and incredibly cumbersome. She knew under the circumstances it should be the least of her worries, but for some reason it just pushed her mood further down into depression.

And she really hated cleaning. Her room was always a total mess. She was most definitely not maid material.

One of the White Coven witches looked in on her. The room she had been put into made the one she had occupied before seem like a palace. It was just a box room with hardly any space to move. A bed, a wash basin, side table and a cupboard was all there was. There wasn't even a window. "Please hurry and change," the woman in a white belt told her, "you have duties to attend to."

Beth just looked at her, her expression a combination of disgust and apprehension. "What kind of duties?" she managed.

"The Sons will show you," said the witch brusquely.

Returning her attention to her new attire, Beth realised with a terrible sinking feeling that her life had taken a very unpleasant turn for the worse. Although she had overheard some of the others in the White Coven talking about Ellie choosing the Blacks and the boys being given another chance, she found it difficult to feel positive. Of course she was relieved for Zack and Luke, but what was going on with Ellie? She had this sensation of loss that was nagging at her, as if she was grieving. It felt as if her friend was slowly moving away from her, becoming someone different and alien. For a few moments she had fight tears as the emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

Very reluctantly she began to undress and prepared to put on the uniform of servitude. It all seemed so unreal, so ridiculous and yet here she was about to embark on a new chapter of her life, one that she had never wanted or expected. And one that she knew would test her to her limits and quite possibly beyond.

Zack was finding it very difficult to drag his eyes away from the young witch who had been charged with keeping watch over both he and Luke, now that they were considered a serious threat to the community. In fact there were two women who had been given this role, the other who called herself Allana of the Blue Coven, a pretty young woman with long blonde hair of perhaps twenty five or so. But Zack only had eyes for her companion. Her name was Leonie and she was one of the Greens. He tried to remind himself that these people were witches and he was here against his will. But try as he might he found himself drawn to this dark haired, green eyed girl who he guessed was perhaps a year or so older than himself. She was small in height, but had a quality about her that commanded attention. Zack had had a couple of girlfriends, but nothing serious and it wasn't as if he considered himself to be the typically romantic daydreaming type, but this girl had his pulse racing just by looking at her. He caught her eyes more than a few times and had to quickly glance away, his face flushed with embarrassment. Luke gave him a couple of questioning stares, but Zack could hardly say anything as both young women were always within earshot.

In truth, they were courteous enough, but were not willing to make small talk. Zack's first attempt to have a conversation with Leonie had only been met with a polite non-committal response. To complicate matters more they had been taken to the fields on the edge of the town to join a group of men harvesting a variety of crops and they were expected to work hard and speak only when it was necessary.

Zack attempted to put his thoughts in order, despite his mind straying to the dark haired girl on a regular basis. What a time to become smitten he chided himself. And with a witch! He shook his head absently as he picked strawberries and put them into a wicker basket. He needed to give himself a good talking to. Or on second thoughts, he would just tell Luke later and let his friend explain to him why he was being a total idiot.

Everything that had taken place in the Council chamber had left him confused and very uneasy. He didn't understand what was going on with his sister. The fact that she was one of them was too crazy to think about. But it was true nonetheless. He had hardly given Beth any thought at all and he felt really bad about that. But he knew Luke had been really worried about their friend and now he wondered what she was having to do to survive this ordeal.

However much Zack might find some pretty girl captivating, he still knew that they could not just allow themselves be lulled into accepting this life of imprisonment and forced labour. He was not going to let these people control him forever. But for now at least, he would play along. He gave another quick glance at Leonie who watched him from perhaps fifteen feet away. Their eyes met and Zack wondered if the look she gave him was merely one of warning that he should get on with his work, or one that told him to be careful not to think of her in any way other than his overseer. Whichever it was, he knew that he was treading on dangerous ground.

"And this is your home," Margaret said opening the door of a very impressive wood and stone house on the outskirts of the town. It was a large, imposing structure with high windows and a slate roof. "This residence has been handed down through the centuries to only the most esteemed of our Coven. It is a great privilege for you to live here. I trust you will value this gift."

Ellie looked around the interior, taking in a grand staircase leading to the second story where another set of carpeted stairs led to the top level of the house. Off to one side was a substantial library and on the other was a drawing room with opulent furnishings. Along a hallway beside the staircase were more doors and what looked to be an extensive kitchen area at the rear of the building. "Thank you," she said carefully, "but do I really need a place like this just for me?"

The woman gave her a contemptuous glare. "Property in Witch Town is not to be sneered at. It is a sign of status and you would do well to remember that you represent the Black Coven now. It is most important to demonstrate to the other Covens our position of seniority."

A little puzzled by this, Ellie couldn't help herself. "Seniority? I thought all of the Covens were equal."

Now Margaret's expression was openly hostile. "Listen girl and listen well," she snapped, "I have told you already that all witches were originally Blacks. And they will be again, mark me. There are many things you do not know. Perhaps in time, you will gain our confidence and prove yourself worthy of your place with us. But until such a time, guard your words. And be loyal to your house. Traitors will suffer terrible consequences. Never forget that." She held the girl's gaze for several long moments letting the words sink in. "Never forget." Ellie knew well enough not to reply. The woman's intensity unnerved her. "Now please explore your home," Margaret went on with an attempt at affability, "And then you can introduce yourself to your servants."

"Excuse me?" the girl piped up.

"A cook, two houseboys, a gardener."

"Boys!?" Ellie was struggling to keep up.

"Yes, of course. The Sons take on all domestic duties. I have already selected suitable candidates." Ellie's face said it all, her bewilderment obvious. But the older woman continued as if it was quite commonplace. "You will find your clothing in the main bedroom. You have been promoted to Level Three which is without precedent for a new Mother. It is a great honour."

"And that's why you wanted me to join you?"

Margaret eyed her with a fierce, unyielding glare. "We have plans for you, yes. You will serve your House well I'm certain of it." With this, the old woman turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. "And don't forget, my dear. The Dance will be held tomorrow where you will choose your spouse. There is much to look forward to." And with that she was gone, moving swiftly away through the doorway and out into the street.

Behind her, Ellie was left with her mouth hanging open with a look of unmitigated horror. It took her quite some time to even move away from where she stood just staring at the open door where Margaret had exited. "You really have got to be joking," she said to the empty room.

"Ma'am?"

Ellie spun around to see a small red haired boy of perhaps ten gazing at her from the hallway. He had obviously come from the kitchen. She collected herself and tried her best to smile. "Hello."

This only seemed to confuse the boy. "What time do you want dinner, Ma'am?"

The girl was doing her best to get her head around what was happening to her, but this little kid asking her about dinner just seemed too weird and she was completely at a loss. "Eh..." she began.

The red headed boy scratched his ear absently. "It's fish pie, Ma'am. Already in the oven."

Ellie nodded automatically. "Whenever you like. I'm Ellie," she added, feeling awkward, "what's your name?"

The boy frowned. "I'm Jacob, Ma'am. At your service."

Finding this all very uncomfortable and awkward, the girl did her best to make him feel at ease. "Thank you, Jacob. It's nice to meet you. Do you need any help in the kitchen? My mum always said I would make a good cook if I put my mind to it."

Jacob looked aghast at this. "I'm the cook," he stated with what appeared to be hurt pride. "It's my job."

"Oh I see," Ellie offered, sensing she might have offended him. "Well, I'm sure you're very good at it."

The young boy watched her a little cautiously, as if concerned she might make some kind of sudden movement. "Can I go back to the kitchen now, ma'am?"

"If you want to," was all Ellie could think of to say.

Jacob gave her another wary look and then turned to walk back along the corridor and disappeared. Pleasant aromas were beginning to drift out of the kitchen and Ellie gave a short bemused shake of her head.

So now she had child servants. She was a witch and kids would be cooking her meals for her! Her next therapy session was going to be a classic. But then she checked herself realising that she had to adjust her thinking. Therapy with Ruth was a thing of the past. That was another life, another world. The time for talking about things was over. From here on, she would need to take action.

12

So Beth is a maid and Zack and Luke are learning how to be farmers. Obviously strong career choices! And I have kids as servants. Crazy or what!? And if that's crazy, now they tell me I get to choose a husband. Really!? As if I didn't have enough to deal with! Well guess what, it's not going to happen. No way. I'm single and that's the way I'm staying. Finding out you're a witch is one thing but getting married is taking the whole thing way, way too far!

Funny how things can go just the way you hoped and yet be so impossibly tricky to manage when you found yourself there.

Zack sat on a swing seat on the porch of a wood panelled house. Opposite him watching attentively sat Leonie. They were alone.

"Is it okay to ask questions?" he asked a little hesitantly, trying to feel his way into a conversation.

The girl's green eyes sparkled in the fading twilight. "You can ask," she said softly, but in a tone that clearly said he should be prudent.

He understood her meaning and considered how to proceed. The last thing he wanted to do was offend her. "What is this Dance everyone has been talking about?" he ventured.

Leonie appeared to relax a little when she heard his question and Zack realised that she had been very tense up until that moment. "It is tradition," she observed, "a new Mother takes a husband and the Coven celebrate with The Dance."

The boy almost did a double take. "Take a what!?" he blurted.

"A husband," she replied casually, "all Mothers take a spouse after The Testing."

Zack attempted to stand and nearly fell off the swing seat. Leonie rose too and took a wary step backward, eyeing him with alarm. "My sister is going to get married," he spluttered, "to who!?" He tried to steady himself, but he had knocked the seat in his haste and now it bumped into the back of his legs. He lost his balance and fell back into it, landing in an undignified fashion while the girl appeared to evaluate his intentions.

When she smiled it caught him completely off-guard and two things occurred to him. One was that he must look like a complete fool and the other was just how pretty she really was. Leonie gracefully sat back down, her eyes still twinkling with mirth. "Your sister will choose as is the right of every Mother," she told him as he repositioned himself so that he looked slightly less stupid.

"But she won't," Zack insisted, "she won't choose. She doesn't want to get married! She's only sixteen!"

Now Leonie became far more grave, her expression altering to one of something akin to melancholy. "Every Mother must take a husband. It is expected."

"So why aren't we allowed to be there?" queried the boy.

"You are her brother so are not eligible. And I have been charged with keeping watch over you."

Zack became very agitated feeling as if he should do something. "So if I get up and try to go there, you will have to stop me?"

With a look that said that she didn't enjoy having to answer this question she nonetheless agreed. "It is my duty."

This left him with a major problem. He didn't see how he could just wait here and leave his sister to fend for herself while they tried to fix her up with one of the Witch Town men. But there was no way he was going to do anything to hurt this girl. Even just the thought of it was horrible. He tried to clear his head, but her green eyes made it difficult to think straight. This whole situation was becoming increasingly impossible.

Then something occurred to him and he paused for quite some time before he decided how to frame his next question.

"So that means you had to do it too...choose I mean? At The Dance." Zack flushed slightly, not really wanting to know, but compelled to ask.

The girl glanced away and he saw that her cheeks also had reddened. "Yes," she said quietly, "but my husband is dead now. And a Mother can only marry once." She returned her gaze to him once more. "So you see, I am glad not to attend."

Zack had no idea what to say now. He fumbled for something sympathetic, but nothing materialised. "I'm sorry," was the best he could come up with.

She gave him a thin smile. "My time of mourning is over. My life is devoted to my Sisters in the Green Coven."

His mind racing, he desperately wanted to find out more, but he sensed that she was likely to become upset or just refuse to discuss it if he persisted. He decided to change the subject.

"What about Luke?" he questioned, wondering if his friend was off somewhere being guarded by Allana.

Leonie gathered herself and adjusted the green scarf about her neck. "He is at the Dance with the other men."

Zack's face was a picture of bafflement. "Why?" he asked at length.

The girl's answer was off-handed as if it were obvious. "All eligible men are offered to the new Mother."

Zack shot up again."What!?" he cried out, almost lost his balance and took three steps sideways.

This time Leonie did not mirror his actions, obviously sensing no threat. "Ellie of the Black Coven will be allowed to choose for herself. Please calm yourself."

But the boy did not sit down again. He just stood there with a stunned, confused expression. What was this place!? It was all madness. He considered for a fleeting moment making a run for it and then thought better of it. Leonie would have to stop him and he was quite certain she was more than capable of doing so.

Finally he settled back into the swing seat, letting his body slump. It seemed Ellie and Luke would have to manage things without him. He couldn't imagine what his sister would say when she realised what they had in mind. And he couldn't even begin to guess what Luke would be thinking when he found out why he was there.

Luke sat on a high backed chair in a long row of identical seats the length of one side of a great hall. Opposite they were faced by just as many girls also seated. The distance between them was not enough to avoid their mischievous smiles and appraising gazes.

He glanced to either side and saw that there were many boys around his age, but also some older men too. All of the girls facing them though were much younger and he realised that they must all be under sixteen as none wore the colour of a Coven.

Seated at a long table at the end of the room were some of the witches he recognised from his experiences in the Council. Margaret was there, along with Isobel of the Reds and the other heads of their individual Covens. But it was Ellie's presence that caused Luke to stare. She sat next to the elderly black witch and seemed quite downcast. And now that she wore the same garb as the other women, Ellie seemed even more distant to him, more a part of this world. It hurt him to even think about it and he wanted to call out to her, but despite the low murmur of chatter, particularly among the assembled girls, it all seemed too quiet and orderly to shout across the hall. Luke hated that already he was beginning to fall in with the social rules of this place, especially as he wanted nothing to do with these people. And even though he accepted that Ellie was one of them, a witch, that did not mean she wanted to stay here either. He continued to look at his friend, trying to catch her eye, but she appeared to be preoccupied with her own thoughts.

Now Margaret stood and addressed them all. "We are here tonight to select a Husband for our new Mother." There was some excited chatter and a little giggling among the girls but all of the men sat in complete silence. Luke sensed nervous tension around him. "And I should add that because our new Sister, Ellie of the Black Coven, has shown herself to possess exceptional ability, the Husband she chooses will be most fortunate and privileged."

"Wait!" It was Ellie. She also stood and her expression was fierce. "I'm not marrying anyone! And don't try to make me. I've gone along with enough of your stupid games already and I'm sick of it!"

There was utter silence in the room as everyone there waited to see what happened next. Margaret glanced at the girl next to her and smiled benevolently. "Do not fear, Ellie," she said gently, but there was a steely edge to her voice. "If you find the choice too difficult, we will be happy to make the selection for you. There are several able candidates."

Ellie's face became scarlet with rage. "If you think I'm just going to stand here and let you marry me off you really are kidding yourself!" she roared. "And if you're intending to use magic to force me, I'm warning you, I will fight you all the way." She was facing Margaret now and their eyes locked. The girl was determined and resolute. The elderly witch just gazed back at her with a clam exterior, but her eyes gleamed with displeasure.

"Not so, Ellie, no Word of Power will be used to coerce you. But understand this. You will take a Husband on this day. As head of your House I have the authority to bind you to another. And I do not need your permission or indeed, even your presence to do so. You are free to leave now if you wish and we will proceed without you. The choosing is your right, but if you do not, the choice will be made for you."

Ellie couldn't believe what she was hearing. Every time she began to think she had moved past some of their lunacy, they managed to come up with something even more ridiculous.

"How can that have any value?" she challenged, "why force me into a relationship with someone against my will!? It's just stupid!"

"Because," the old woman stated, "it will teach you that you do not decide your fate. You are subject to your Coven's will. I told you before now that you would be taught your place, as we have taught every Mother before you. Even I chose a husband at my appointed time" She paused and the barest flicker of a smile played upon her lips. "True enough, he did die before his time and I was sorry for the loss, but I learnt, as you will, that I know my place. Now choose." Ellie didn't want to go anywhere near the expectant applicants and the opposing line of girls just made it all the more humiliating with their whispered anticipation. "We are waiting," encouraged Margaret, but the girl knew the woman's patience was fading rapidly.

Ellie finally looked over at the men, if they could be even called such, as many were barely older than herself. It was then to her stunned amazement she caught sight of Luke and almost let out a cry. If she had believed the situation was bizarre and perverse before, now she was truly struck by how awful this had become. For a terrible moment she looked about swiftly just to make sure they hadn't lined up her brother as well. She decided that these people were demented enough to do anything, but she was at least relieved not to see him there.

As for Luke, he was trying to slide further down into his chair, wishing he could somehow disappear into it. His face was flushed a ruddy crimson and he had begun to sweat in a hot, sticky way that he had never experienced before in his life. All he could think, like some repeating mantra was, don't pick me, don't pick me. He felt equally sick in both his stomach and his head.

Ellie gave a final, almost pleading look at Margaret but saw only cold resolve.

I'm really going to have to do this, she thought with a horrible sense of disbelief.

With a disgusted shake of her head, Ellie left the table and walked out into the hall to gaze miserably at her potential suitors. It wasn't as if there was anything particularly wrong with them. For the most part, they were presentable enough. But this game she was expected to play was getting just a little too far out of hand for her. And she made no mistake, it was a game. And with that realisation she understood that she had no option but to play.

She walked slowly along the line, almost as if she were inspecting her troops and as she approached, Luke squirmed dismally in his seat.

And when she came to a halt in front of him he had to admit to himself, as much as tried to convince himself otherwise, that it was no surprise.

Their eyes met and held as something passed between them, an unsaid acknowledgment that there really was no other possible way out of this.

"I choose Luke," Ellie said and there was surprising strength in her voice.

Margaret glowered at her from her place at the table. "A disappointing choice," she remarked evenly, "but a choice nonetheless." Luke didn't know what to do with himself. All he could think of at that moment was how was he was going to explain this to Zack. And then his thoughts turned to Beth . If he had believed his time in this place had been some form of awful dream before now, he saw that it had been only a precursor before the real nightmare had begun.

"Take his hand," the elderly witch commanded and Ellie didn't even hesitate. She just grabbed the boy's in hers and waited for the inevitable to happen like someone who knew they were about to be executed and could do nothing to stop it. "On this day," Margaret continued, "at this hour, I bind these two together. He will be husband, to serve and do her bidding. She will be mistress, to govern and dictate. No one can alter this decree. They are bound until death. And should either depart this life, they can never be joined with another. One mate. One marriage. It is done." There was polite applause from those assembled, but Ellie and Luke hardly noticed. Both held onto the other's hand with a fierce grip until finally it was Luke who pulled his fingers away because the girl's grasp had been so tight it had begun to hurt. He reached for some words to say to her, but whatever he framed in his mind seemed crass and inappropriate.

Ellie meanwhile felt light headed and fought to stay on her feet. She tried to convince herself that it was all a sham and had no meaning whatsoever, but something within countered this, as if a deeper force knew differently and she felt the amulet around her neck tingle slightly.

"Now," called Margaret, "Let The Dance begin. It is time to celebrate the union of the new Mother with her spouse. May their time together be productive. And may they both serve Witch Town in everything that they do."

With this, every girl rose and moved with enthusiastic haste to the opposite side of the hall to select a partner. The men all appeared to understand that they had no say in this process and were quickly pulled up out of their chairs by strong, determined arms to be ushered out onto the floor ready to dance.

A lively waltz began to play, although there was no sign whatsoever of any musicians. The music drifted eerily out as if from the walls and ceiling themselves.

And every couple moved in time, apparently knowing what was required of them. They passed by each other smoothly and in perfect unison, a measured pattern of rhythmic grace. Even Margaret and the other senior witches joined the dance, partners having being selected from the available men.

Only Ellie and Luke did not move. They stood together awkwardly, unwilling to catch the other's eye.

"I'm sorry," Ellie said at last in a small voice.

Luke wanted to reassure her, to say that it would all be fine. But the words just would not come.

All around them the dancers circled, a whirl of movement, the music ever louder and faster. And Ellie found herself wondering if this was no more than a feverish delusion, a trick of her tired and troubled mind.

But of course she knew better. It was all too real. It was yet another symbol of her fall into this shadowy and disturbing realm of witchcraft. Here in Witch Town everything she had known before had very little meaning. She was part of it whether she wanted to be or not.

13

Please let me introduce my husband, Mr Luke Forester. Quite a catch don't you think! Poor Luke. The fear in his eyes probably just about matches mine. He looks like he's been run over by a truck. Twice! But this is no laughing matter. Far from it. The rules of Witch Town have left us both in the most awkward, embarrassing situation ever. But of course, I know we can work something out. It's not like we have to take this whole marriage thing seriously. Or at least, that's what I'm hoping. Because if he thinks he's coming anywhere near my room he can think again. Let's just make that very, very clear right from the off.

Ellie decided that going back to her new house, accompanied by her newly acquired husband, all dressed up in her brand new witch's outfit had definitely taken the number one place on her weirdest moments of her life list.

They had said very little to each other, apparently by mutual consent.

One of the young boys who worked in the house had greeted them at the door. He said his name was John and he seemed all too eager to show them to their bedroom. Their bedroom!

Ellie soon put him straight on that one.

She went off to her own room without even saying goodnight and Luke was left to find somewhere to sleep for himself. There were plenty of bedrooms on the two upper floors so she didn't have any concerns about him finding somewhere to sleep. Although to be honest, she didn't really care one way or another. It sounded harsh, but she was just too confused, tired and irritable to feel bad about it.

Of course, it was none of Luke's doing, she knew that. He was a victim just as much as she was.

These damn witches were control freaks of the first order. She could barely believe what was going on. Married at sixteen! And to her brother's best friend! She didn't see that one coming. And what would Beth say about this when she found out?

Or Zack for that matter.

But that had all happened the night before and now the morning light streamed in through her window. The brightness of the day cheered her bleak mood just a little and she got up to dress. Already her old clothes had disappeared, probably taken away by one of those boys and she was only left with her witch outfit.

She had slept surprisingly well considering the drama of the previous evening, but she understood that her mind was so exhausted that it was just as well.

Everything was so extreme, if she didn't keep a clear head things could get even worse than they already were. She almost chuckled at this idea and her mind turned to Luke, who presumably was somewhere tucked up in bed.

Unless of course he had bolted during the night.

Which when all was said and done, didn't sound like such a bad idea at all.

Luke was sitting upright in a padded chair inside a relatively small room on the top floor of the house. He hadn't slept at all.

His eyes were like dark hollows, his complexion pasty and he had a queasy feeling moving around in his stomach. He decided he was in shock and had even pinched himself hard at one point during the long night just to make sure it was all really happening. It was.

I'm a married man, he told himself with a tinge of hysteria.

It occurred to him that he could just stay in this room, in this chair for the foreseeable future. That way, he wouldn't have to deal with the acute awkwardness of talking to Ellie, or even worse, having to look at her.

It wasn't that he didn't like her. Far from it. It wasn't that he didn't think she was pretty. He did. It was simply that he was in love with Beth.

He had been for quite some time and it was the kind of feeling that went very deep. A longing that he kept inside, causing him pain and joy in equal measures. He wasn't a complete fool, he knew she only had eyes for Zack, but he couldn't help himself. .

He rationalised the situation and knew that this so-called marriage wouldn't stand up in any court of law that he recognised. Problem was, at the moment and he had no idea how long it might continue for, he was subject to the laws of Witch Town. While he was here, its citizens considered him to be Mr. Ellie of the Black Coven. And let's face it, men didn't really get too much respect. How did it go again, he was going to be governed and dictated to. By his good friend Ellie.

No, this chair seemed all the more attractive and he snuggled down into it a bit more.

There was a light knock on the door and he tensed. "What!?" he snapped, afraid it might be Ellie come to give him a few orders to start the day. But when the door opened it was the boy called John he had met briefly the evening before.

"You are expected in the fields," John said without ceremony.

Luke just gave him a blank stare. "What are you talking about?" he asked, "why?"

With a frown, John spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child, which he wasn't that far from being himself. "All the men have to work. You're already late."

"But," argued Luke, feeling immediately very stupid, "I just got married!"

John did not appear very impressed by this observation. "Allana of the Blue Coven is waiting for you."

"Maybe I should have married her," Luke mumbled, getting out of his chair reluctantly.

"I will tell her that you're coming then," the boy said as he turned to go.

"Oh please do."

Luke's words may have been full of scorn but he felt just like a fish on the end of a very sharp hook.

Beth was learning how to be a maid. And her teachers were all boys.

It might have been funny if they didn't drive her so hard, treating her for the most part with cautious contempt.

Her main instructor in the ways of domestic service was a boy of about thirteen named Joshua. He was efficient and hard working, would indulge in no chit-chat and took his role very seriously indeed. In fact, pretty much every one of these boy servants were professional and diligent to the point that Beth began to wonder if they were robotic facsimiles, created by the witches to do their dirty work. She wouldn't put it past them. But that got her wondering why they couldn't just use their magical words to get things done. There were a lot of questions and far less answers.

She did a lot of scrubbing, carrying, polishing, mopping and dusting. She had even been given a chance to do some cooking, but she had burnt the pastry she was in charge of and was now on her knees cleaning a toilet, obviously as punishment.

She had absolutely no idea where the others were and no-one was inclined to answer her questions about them. The witches themselves treated her as if she were invisible and the one time she had caught sight of Abigail and tried to speak to her, she had been rebuked with a terse, "get back to work, girl."

Beth wasn't sure how long she could carry on doing this before she went crazy. Always at the back her mind was the knowledge that these people could hurt her if she didn't do as she were told. And she had no doubt that they would if they needed to. She had no friends other than those she had come here with and in the depths of her heart she had begun to fear that she was fast losing them too.

Isolated and vulnerable, Beth had very little optimism left that she was ever going to get back to the world outside Witch Town. And even if she did, who would she be then? Never again her old self. She might not be a witch like Ellie, but she was someone different now. Someone who looked like her, but felt worn down and altered inside.

She continued with her work. What else was there for her to do.

Luke saw his friend ahead in the fields and paused. Now what?

Hi, mate did you hear about last night when I married your sister?

It might sound just about okay if he said it fast enough. He wished he believed there was even a chance that could be true.

Zack had spotted him and was looking over with a questioning gaze.

Luke momentarily considered feigning injury and slumping to the ground. Anything to avoid having to talk to the other boy.

But Allana was only a few paces behind and he was certain she would see through his play acting. He had never been any good at amateur dramatics anyway. He could probably write an effective poem or produce a vivid painting depicting his inner struggle of being faced with severe humiliation, rejection and quite possibly a good beating from his friend. But that wasn't much use at that moment.

Almost dragging his feet, he continued on towards Zack.

Leonie stood off to one side, apparently relaxed but ever vigilant. She nodded at the other witch, but ignored Luke. This suited him just fine. He wished that everyone would just leave him alone.

But now Zack was facing him and the boy obviously had questions he wanted to ask. It didn't take him very long to get to point. "What did Ellie do!?" he hissed, "do you know? Where have you been!?"

Luke just gawped dumbly at him. "Eh..." he muttered, "well.."

"So do you know what happened!?" his friend demanded to know.

The expression on Luke's face, which was growing paler by the second, was one of painful discomfort. "I was there," he managed to get out.

"So how did Ellie get out of it?" Zack asked, confident that his sister would have found a way to avoid the unthinkable. Luke opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. "Come on Luke, just tell me what happened!?"

"There is work to be done," came the voice of Allana.

Zack waved a hand at her and tried his best to smile, despite the anxiety he was feeling. He knew something was up. He just didn't know how bad it was. "Okay, just a minute." He returned his attention to the other boy and waited.

Luke averted his eyes, staring at the ground. "Ellie had to choose someone," he said softly, "or they would have chosen for her. She had to do something." He hesitated, wishing he was somewhere else a long way from there. "So...she chose me."

His friend gaped and his eyes widened. "You?"

For a brief second Luke looked up, saw the look on Zack's face and swiftly returned his attention to his feet again. "I think she thought it was the best thing in the circumstances," he said sheepishly.

Zack seemed to consider this for a few moments, piecing together the details of what he had been told. Then his face flushed and his body went rigid. "And where have you been all night!?"

The smaller boy took an involuntary step backwards. "No..what?..wait...what!?" he gibbered.

With a stunned expression Zack stared at him. "You and Ellie?" he said incredulously.

"No!" Luke cried out, "It doesn't mean anything. We're not together." he tried to think more quickly, but his mind was sluggish. "I didn't get any sleep at all last night!"

"You what!?" boomed Zack.

"I was in a chair," his friend rushed to explain. "Ellie wasn't with me. I was on my own."

Try as he might, Zack could not get his head around any of it. It was nuts. "Where is Ellie?"

Luke shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't seen her since...you know. I don't know what she's doing."

"You really do need to get to work now." It was Leonie. She stood only a few feet away. They hadn't noticed her approach.

"Do you know?" Zack asked her, trying his best to keep his voice under control.

The dark haired girl seemed to consider her reply. Then she spoke kindly. "Your sister will learn her place in her Coven. As we all must do. She will be well, don't worry."

"I don't get any of it," Zack stated to no one in particular.

Luke kept silent. Whatever came out of his mouth at the moment seemed to only make things worse.

Now Allana had come to stand beside Leonie. They made a striking pair, but neither boy was in the mood to notice. "There are many tasks delegated to you today," the blonde girl told them, "you are already behind. Please go about your work. Do not make this unpleasant for us all."

Luke sighed a little, but knew there was nothing more he could say or do. Zack, on the other hand, had the look of a man who has seen the impossible. Witches he could come to terms with. A hidden town in the middle of a forest he could just about accept. Magical words that could hurt you, even that he could deal with.

But Luke being married to his sister was on a whole different level.

That was ridiculous.

14

Growing up without a Dad isn't easy. Well, it wasn't for me anyway. My Mum tried I suppose, but she just seemed to constantly mess up. So I guess I am a product of a typical broken, dysfunctional family. All of those therapy sessions. I started them at eleven. Hardly helped to make me feel like I had a chance of fitting in. Mum insisted I needed help though. Maybe if my Dad had been around he would have seen it differently. But he was gone before I even got out my first cry. Mum never wanted to talk about him and I guess by the time I actually wanted to, I was too angry and hurt to ask. Wish he had stuck around. I wish a lot of things, more than ever now. Wonder what ever happened to him, where he is, what he's doing. Maybe I'm just being stupid even thinking about it, but I find myself dwelling on things in a way I know I never used to. Maybe I'm just growing up. Or maybe I'm just feeling sorry for myself.

Ellie had other things on her mind rather than marriage.

She was back in the great hall where the dance had been held, but now she stood facing a much smaller row of men, only six this time and she was accompanied by a tall woman who had introduced herself as Helen. She wore a black sash to mark herself as a level four witch and had a proud, haughty attitude that irritated Ellie from the first.

"I have been appointed to teach you the fundamentals of the use of Words of Power," she declared. "Because you are an outsider and have received no formal teaching, you know very little." Helen said this with a hint of derision. "So it has been decided that you should be educated in some of the basic elements of our gift."

The girl listened as did the men who had been lined up in front of them. They seemed apprehensive. "So why are they here?" Ellie enquired.

The woman looked down her sharp nose at Ellie and narrowed her eyes. She had the appearance of a hawk assessing its prey. "These Husbands and Sons have volunteered to assist with this lesson."

This brought a small smile to the girl's face. "Volunteered?"

"Indeed," Helen told her without the slightest show of humour. "Now pay careful attention." Despite the fact that Ellie didn't much like this witch, she listened patiently anyway. She wanted to understand as much as possible and she recognised how important it was to her. Her future may very well depend on it. "First of all, you must recognise that a Word can only be used by channelling through the SpiritHeart." She delicately touched the pendant at her chest. "Only one Word can be spoken at a time. And you cannot use another until your amulet is ready again. This becomes more rapid as you increase your level of ability. But understand this and mark it well, even a novice will gain an opportunity to speak before the most powerful of witches is able to use a Word a second time."

Ellie had a number of questions calling to be voiced in her head. "But what if you just say a word by accident, you know, just in ordinary conversation?"

The older woman shook her head and frowned as if she were a foolish child. "Did you not comprehend? You must channel through your amulet to use a Word of Power. It is a conscious choice, not a random act of stupidity." The girl felt annoyed. This woman obviously considered herself to be superior to Ellie in every way and yet she sensed that there was an underlying emotion in the witch's demeanour and tone. Could it be envy? Resentment? It was difficult to be certain, but there was definitely something there. "Also," Helen continued, "no Word can be used unless the objective is in sight. Therefore, stealth is a useful tool. Is that clear to you?"

With a short nod, Ellie decided to risk another question. "How many Words of Power are there?"

Helen smiled at her indulgently. "New Words are occasionally discovered. Old texts reveal them. A new Mother may name one if they are truly blessed. More...unusual Words are known by those who attain a higher level of knowledge and understanding. In many ways your own level is very misleading. True, you produced a level three Word at your Testing, but you have not studied and learnt about the Words at a lower rank. To make that undisciplined leap to a level beyond your tutelage is foolhardy to say the very least."

The truth was Ellie was confused, but she was reluctant to show it. "So why am I classed as a three if I don't know anything about the lower levels? That doesn't make any sense."

The woman gazed at her now with obvious contempt. "The decision to bestow that level upon you was not mine. Some might have believed you should begin as all Mothers should begin, at the bottom. But I am not Mistress of this House, so I abide by the ruling of my superiors." She paused and her eyes shone with intensity. "So now let us put some of these things into practice." Helen turned to regard the six men, although one or two were certainly barely older than Ellie herself. "Pain," she spoke casually and the girl saw the amulet around the woman's neck begin to fill with a ruby coloured essence. In the same instant, a stocky man at the end of the line doubled over holding his stomach. "There," observed Helen with some satisfaction. "Effective, is it not?"

But Ellie was far from impressed and felt distressed that the man should be experiencing such discomfort on her account. "I don't think you should hurt people just for fun," she said forcefully.

"This is not entertainment. This is education." The witch's amulet was now beginning to clear, becoming like white crystal once more.

"I just don't agree with it," the girl asserted.

"If I were you," Helen warned her, "I would quickly set aside such sympathies. There will be many who will have no qualms about hurting you if you stand in their way. Hurting you, or worse." Ellie said nothing now, but she could feel her temper beginning to rise. "Now why not attempt a Word yourself. Perhaps Level One, I think. Yes, I'm sure that would be where you are best suited."

The girl bristled, but couldn't really argue. In reality she had no idea at all what she was doing. "What Word do you want me to try?"

Giving a tolerant smile, Helen stroked her chin in thought. "Perhaps you could try Confuse. Do you think you could manage that?"

Ellie frowned and her cheeks blushed. "How should I know?"

Apparently enjoying the girl's inexperience, the elder witch gave a vaguely encouraging gesture towards the group of men. The one who she had already afflicted still held himself gingerly, but he seemed to be recovering. "Have no fear. This is a simple enough Word. Even novice Mothers find it undemanding."

With a certain amount of reluctance Ellie faced the men. The boy in front of her visibly gulped and she moved her gaze to the tall middle aged fellow beside him. He kept his eyes down and made no eye contact. She concentrated, focusing her mind and then uttered the word. "Confuse."

Immediately she felt a tingle run through her body that grew to a throb, almost as if her blood was rushing ever faster through her veins. The base of her neck pulsed and she glanced down at her amulet to see it gradually becoming a cloudy red. Now she concentrated on her test subject once more to find him staring at her with what could only be described as bafflement.

"Ask him his name?" Helen prompted.

Ellie felt awkward and a little mean. "Who are you?" she questioned, her voice mild.

The man gawped at her, his eyes trying to focus. "I...I don't...know."

Helen clapped her hands. "You see, it is very simple. But also take note, you are vulnerable after you have used a Word. So choose wisely."

The girl turned from the gaping man to the grinning woman and felt a pang of disgust. But in a deeper part of her being she also understood the truth of the witch's warning. She would be a target because she was different. And that would apply to her brother and her friends too. She would need to learn how to protect herself.

"Let's try another one," she voiced with a surprisingly hard edge.

The Council of Five building seemed very empty without the full complement of witches in attendance. Instead there were only five. The head of each House sat in a group, no longer separated by the partitions that designated their individual Covens.

"Despite removing the ringleader there is still unrest among them, " Isobel said.

Anna of the Blue Coven responded. "And what of the two outsiders? They will no doubt become agitators. We were foolish to allow them to remain."

Abigail nodded her agreement. "They will bring their rebellious attitudes to bear upon the others sooner or later, that much is certain."

"Unless we put in place ways to prevent them," Rosemary countered.

Margaret smiled serenely, content to allow the others to have their say.

Isobel's expression was far less benevolent. "An accident can always be arranged."

"That will not be necessary," Abigail said with a frown of annoyance.

"Not at this stage," Margaret finally spoke up. "They are being watched are they not?"

"But are the two who have been given the task suitable for such responsibility?" This came from Isobel and both the Blue and the Green witches bridled at this.

"Allana is very reliable," Anna stated firmly, "I selected her myself."

"As is Leonie, is she not Abigail?" added Rosemary with a meaningful glance at the White Coven witch.

"She is your concern," Abigail stated dismissively, but there was something in her eyes that betrayed other more complicated emotions, just beneath the surface.

"Really?" questioned Isobel. "Was she the most appropriate choice, given the circumstances?"

The Green witch held the woman's doubtful gaze and Abigail had apparently lost interest in the discussion, as she now had a distant air about her. "No blame can be attached to a Mother for a Husband's transgression."

"And yet," the other woman countered, "she chose him, did she not?"

"I vouch for her. I assume that is enough for you," Rosemary said, her eyes blazing.

Isobel's tone was dismissive when she replied. "Time will reveal the wisdom of such assurances, but this is not our only concern. Your new Mother," she addressed this now to Margaret, "surely she cannot be trusted. She does not recognise our heritage."

"I will be the judge of that," the elder witch said with force. "She is of my House now and therefore my Sister. Do not interfere in matters that are beyond your authority."

Isobel's face coloured with suppressed rage. "I am merely voicing what others are thinking"

Margaret showed little sign of emotion when she responded. "Indeed? Well, I will be sure to consider these thoughts when I am managing the affairs of my House."

There was a brief silence among them and tension crackled in the quiet.

It was Abigail who eventually spoke once more, her focus back on the proceedings. "Let us return now and think on what we have spoken about. Many things have happened and it is true there may be consequences that are as yet unforeseen. This makes it all more essential that the Covens work together. For the good of Witch Town." She looked at each in turn.

And then in one voice they all agreed. "For the good of Witch Town."

15

If I'm ever going to get out of Witch Town I need to learn everything I can about being a witch. I know, it sounds weird when I hear myself say it, but I guess it is what I am. Not the kind who rides a broomstick or waves a magic wand, but someone who can use words to control people, hurt them or maybe even worse things that I haven't found out about yet. But whatever I might discover in the future I know I have to be careful not to end up believing being like them is a good thing. Because it's not. I'm still the same person inside that I was before I came here. I'm still Ellie. Nothing will ever change that.

"She is due any time now," the woman said, "so she will need to be watched over. Is this a task that you can manage, girl?"

Beth's expression betrayed exasperation, but she held her tongue. "I did my best with the sewing," she explained, "but I was never any good at that kind of stuff."

The witch wore a white scarf, but the girl didn't know her name. She was just another of the many who attended the Coven and saw her as nothing more than a dogsbody to be ordered here, there and everywhere. "Obviously not."

The truth was Beth knew that she had really messed up. The white cloak she had been given to repair now resembled a rag. She was useless as a domestic and there was no arguing about it. Even the cleaning she had done wasn't up to scratch according to the boys who worked alongside her. They considered her to a liability and shunned her now. Joshua had all but disowned her, Beth's performance so poor in his opinion that he obviously believed she had disgraced him.

So now, almost as a last resort it seemed, she was going to be nursemaid to a heavily pregnant witch who was expected to give birth at any moment.

What did Beth know about babies? She didn't even have any brothers or sisters. And worse than that, she found babies annoying with their crying and all of that disgusting nappy changing.

All in all, Beth just wasn't really housewife material.

"You will attend to Joan and see to her needs. She will know when it is time and tell you to call for me. Is that clear?"

The girl nodded dumbly, realising there was no point trying to explain how unsuitable she was for this task. But then, maybe it would be easier and less unpleasant than some of the jobs she had been asked to undertake over the last couple of days.

The witch called Joan was resting in a bed within a small room on the second floor of the White Coven House and Beth found it difficult not to stare at her enormous stomach. She wondered just how huge this child must be to cause the woman's belly to expand so much.

"Can I do anything for you?" she offered in the friendliest tone she could manage.

Joan just gazed back at her with a pained expression. She looked to be in her early twenties and was propped up by several cushions behind her back. "A glass of water would be welcome."

Beth was glad to oblige and poured her some from a porcelain jug on a side table. "Is it bad?" the girl enquired as she carefully handed it over.

Taking a few sips, Joan tried to smile, but it was overtaken by a grimace. "Uncomfortable."

At least this one spoke to her as if she were human and Beth warmed to her a little. But also she subconsciously vowed that she would never let herself get into this state. It was gross. She glanced once more at the swollen stomach. Beth just couldn't see any way it was worth such a disfigurement!

"Is this your first baby?" she asked more to make conversation than because she was really interested. The witch nodded, shifting her weight to find a more comfortable position. "What do you want?" Beth continued, "a boy or a girl?"

Joan visibly started at this and her expression became stern. "Do you hope to insult me?"

Beth hesitated before answering, trying to understand why the woman had taken offence. "No, of course not. Did I say something wrong?"

The witch gave her a long, penetrating look, as if deciding whether the girl was feigning ignorance. "Only a girl will honour me, do you not understand that? Anything other than that would bring nothing but shame."

This made no sense at all to Beth. "Shame?" she questioned, "just because you have a boy? Don't you need boys just as much as girls?"

"Need them?" Joan said just as a spasm of pain hit her and the words came out as a hiss. "They are a necessity, but no more than that. Only through a girl child will we ever reclaim our rightful place. It is my heartfelt wish that my baby will one day become a Mother. May she be one of the elect of Witch Town."

The girl didn't really know what to say to this and when she did reply it sounded pretty lame. "Well I hope you get what you want."

Joan closed her eyes. "Only a girl," she breathed and there was a desperate note in the words that left Beth feeling troubled.

Something just felt very wrong and she was left to ponder the differences between the attitudes of the world she had grown up in towards men and woman and the way things worked here. It was hard for her to come to terms with. And she felt confused.

But for now she knew that she had to concentrate on the needs of this woman, who despite being one of the witches who held her captive, was about to bring a new life into the world. Whether it be a boy or a girl Beth took the responsibility seriously, so settled herself to wait for it to begin and help in whatever way she could.

Cows needed milking, chickens feeding and eggs collected. There was grain to store, butter to churn and vegetables to be pulled from the earth. And that was just the start of it.

Zack and Luke were getting a crash course in farming and they hated every second.

The dirt under Luke's nails annoyed him just as much as the hard labour. And when he walked into an impressively large cowpat, the resulting burst of colourful language was as much about how he felt about the entire wretched experience as it was about what was now clinging to his boot.

Zack meanwhile had other things playing on his mind, trying his best to adjust to the idea that Luke and his sister were man and wife. Obviously his rational brain kept telling him that it was all just stupid and meant nothing except in the deluded minds of the witches, but he found it disturbing nonetheless.

As was customary now, Leonie and Allana accompanied them everywhere they went, keeping close watch on them. Although both young women said very little while the boys were working, during their breaks they had become more talkative and seemed willing to answer questions, just as long as the topics were reasonably general and not considered subversive. It had been Allana who had first used that particular word when Luke had wanted to know why the men were expected to work so relentlessly, while the women seemed to just sit around admiring themselves. This had not gone down well with the witch from the White Coven and she had given the boy a lecture on his ignorance, the proper place of men in their community and how his subversive nature would be his undoing if he did not watch his step.

Although Zack had found it all quite amusing at the time, especially Luke's look of utter astonishment, he had since considered the implications and it had occurred to him that these women would not tolerate either their refusal to conform or them inciting the other men with what they considered to be dangerous attitudes from the outside world. They would need to be careful.

A little later he was given even more cause for concern when Allana, in another show of irritation with Luke who found it almost impossible to keep his mouth shut, had said in passing that his friend was following in the unfortunate footsteps of Leonie's husband and would meet the same fate if he did not change his ways. Zack had seen the strained expression on the other witch's face when she heard this said and he wondered exactly what had happened in the past. He stored it away, but was determined to find out more if he could.

With a stack of books taken from the library in her arms, Ellie made her way towards a meadow adjacent to her new home. She looked up at the imposing building where she now resided and experienced a wave of incredulity. It was all so bizarre.

She walked on a little further past hedgerows and saw men toiling in the fields, while other women passed her on their way to their homes or their Coven Houses. There was a calm serenity about the place that belied the fierce control the witches held over the running of the town. Ellie had managed to gain a certain amount of freedom, but she knew it was only an illusion. If she attempted to leave or disrupt the social order, she had no doubts that they would deal with her severely. And despite her newly discovered abilities, Ellie would be no match for these witches, some of them obviously able to channel far greater power than she herself possessed.

She had managed to have a brief, rather awkward conversation with Luke to make sure Zack was doing okay. Although her 'husband' had slept in the same building as her the previous night, he had gone off sheepishly to a room somewhere on the third floor. As for what was happening with Beth she knew almost nothing, other than the fact that she was working for the White Coven. It was very frustrating not being able to talk to her friend, but she had soon discovered that each Coven was forbidden from entering another's House. So she was left in the dark.

For now she had decided to get outside and away from the stuffy interior of her newly acquired house and do some reading. She was determined to learn as much as possible.

Already she had been able to successfully use a range of Words in her sessions with Helen. The older woman obviously didn't like her one bit, but that hadn't stopped Ellie from using her time with the witch to test her abilities. She had to admit there was a real adrenaline rush to using her power and there was definitely some kind of physiological effect that took place that was difficult to define. The SpiritHeart, as the witches called the amulet they each wore, was able to channel some kind of internal essence or force and she felt it pulse through her when she spoke a Word of Power. It was both an euphoric experience and a debilitating one. The time it took for the amulet to drain the energy needed for each Word seemed endless, even though in reality it was only a matter of seconds. But she had come to understand that those seconds would be crucial if she was to ever to face another witch in some kind of dispute or confrontation. She had been told these kind of altercations were rare because the Covens had a code of non-aggression against each other. But whatever these women might be, they were still only human and emotion had a way of spilling over into disagreement.

Finding a suitable place under a large tree, Ellie settled herself to study. It shocked her to think how she had come to almost accept her hew life in Witch Town, but despite her own position of some comfort and influence, Zack, Luke and Beth were not faring so well. From the little that Luke had told her it sounded as if they were being worked like slaves. And when she really considered the social order of this place, the men appeared to be no more than that, their duties as husbands apparently comprising of physical labour and fathering children. This last thought gave her a chill and she had to wonder how the men felt about their role and for that matter what attitude the women took towards the men when they required them to become intimate. It all felt rather clinical and there seemed to be no place for feelings or emotional attachment. Ellie found the whole thing repulsive.

She glanced at the volumes she had selected and read the titles. The True History of Witchcraft in England by Alice of the Green Coven, An introduction to Words of Power by Lydia of the Blue Coven, Witch Town: An Overview by Deborah of the White Coven. The other books were similar in nature and although Ellie was interested in their contents, after flipping through several pages of each of them she found herself somewhat disappointed by the content. It all seemed far too neutral and vague, as if reluctant to give too much away .

Even the list of potential Words that she might learn displayed a distinct lack of imagination.

When she had pressed Helen for more information about the kind of Words she might be able to master on the higher levels, the woman had become evasive and was unwilling to discuss anything beyond Level Three. Even the book she was now perusing failed to give her anything concrete regarding the higher ranked Words of Power, only suggesting that Words of such potency would put any witch who spoke them in mortal danger if she had not developed the ability to control her SpiritHeart. Ellie wasn't entirely sure what that meant and the pages didn't make it any plainer.

There must be some more exhaustive volumes somewhere hidden away in Witch Town she concluded. She was certain that Margaret would have access to them, but she knew full well that the elderly witch would never allow her to read them. These women guarded their dominion over others closely and someone like Margaret would be very protective of anything that would enhance her own power and therefore her authority.

Even so, Ellie would keep her eyes and ears open. And she hadn't forgotten about the legendary Rebecca either. There was sure to be a lot of material on her history as well and the Black Coven House would be the most likely place to find it.

It was a boy.

A depressive, heavy atmosphere pervaded the room and to Beth it felt more as if someone had died than been born.

Joan's expression was miserable and the girl couldn't bear to look at it. The other witch who had overseen the birth had placed the baby in a small basket, but neither seemed very interested in it.

While the woman checked over Joan, Beth went to the small child and looked down upon it. So tiny and vulnerable. And yet now dismissed simply because it was a boy.

Abruptly, Abigail entered the room. "Which is it?" she asked brusquely.

Joan lowered her eyes and it was the other White Coven witch who replied. "A boy." The words were spoken with obvious disappointment.

Abigail gave a short nod, her features revealing no sign of emotion. Then she glanced at Beth. "Bring the child," she instructed.

The girl was caught off-guard by this. "Me?"

"Yes," stated the woman, "come with me."

With care, Beth lifted the basket and carried it with her as she followed Abigail out of the room and along a hallway. Other witches watched them as they passed, their faces grim.

Beth had no idea what was going on, but didn't like the way everyone here saw this baby as some kind of embarrassment. The more she found out about the attitudes of these people the more she despised them.

Abigail came to a door and ushered Beth inside. "Put it down over there," she told the girl with cool detachment.

It, thought Beth with disgust.

They were in a well furnished room with bookcases lining the walls, a bureau for study or writing, a large fireplace and a number of impressive paintings. There was one of Abigail herself looking majestic and regal and Beth wondered if this was actually the White witch's own room.

The girl placed the basket down on the table where she had been directed, checking that the baby was okay as she did so. The child's eyes were open but unfocused, but he did not cry.

"What are you going to do?" Beth asked, frightened suddenly.

Abigail gave her an icy stare. "That is no concern of yours. Now return to your duties."

"I don't have any," shot back Beth, reluctant to leave, fearful that something bad might happen to the baby. She felt surprisingly protective towards it.

"Then find one of the boys and ask them what you can do." The witch's tone was impatient and increasingly tense. Beth realised that she was going to get herself into serious trouble if she did not go, so she slowly walked towards the door. "Close the door on your way out."

With a furtive glance over her shoulder, the girl left the room and made to shut the door, but she hesitated. Something was wrong and she knew it.

Leaving the door open just a crack she lingered outside, checking along the hallway to make sure no one else was around and leaning close she pressed one eye against the narrow opening.

Within Abigail had gone to the bureau to open a drawer. The woman took out a small container and then returned to the table where the basket had been placed. Beth looked on as the witch gazed down solemnly on the child and then opening the box she held in her hand, she took out something that at first the girl could not recognise.

Abigail leaned down and lifted the baby out and into her arms. She did this in an effortless way, as if well practiced at it. It was only as the infant was cradled under the woman's left arm that Beth finally realised what the small object held in her right hand was.

A syringe.

Beth almost let out an audible gasp and had to clench her teeth together to stop the sound from alerting the witch to her presence.

With casual deftness, Abigail tilted the baby's head forward and inserted the needle into the back of its neck. Beth could not believe what she was seeing. Immediately the child began to wail.

With a shocked, sickened sensation in her stomach Beth turned away and walked quickly along the corridor. She had no idea what she had just witnessed, but it was horrible and she hated herself for not just bursting in there and trying to stop it. What if the witch was killing him, the girl worried, knowing instinctively that this wasn't the case. She understood that Witch Town needed men, even if they did not value them.

What was going on here? It frightened her to even try to make sense of it.

Beth returned to her room and shut the door behind her. She needed time alone to think, to steady herself. Whatever it was that Abigail had done to the infant it left her feeling as if she now knew something that she wasn't supposed to know. She vowed to keep it to herself, at least for the time being. Because if the White witch suspected that she had seen what had taken place, Beth had a strong conviction that it would put her in very real danger.

16

It's all about power here. And control. The Level Five witches lord it over the rest and love every second of it. The Level Ones desperately want to be taken seriously and are constantly trying to prove themselves. It's just like school really. No one seems to want to talk to me very much. Which is also like school. Okay, I know I'm an outsider and that's obviously part of the problem. It's not like I really care or anything. It's just so lonely. I can't see Beth. Zack hasn't made any attempt to talk to me and Luke avoids me like I have the plague. I'm even at the point now of trying to make conversation with these boys who serve me in the house. That's how desperate I am. Tragic I know, but this is starting to get to me. But chatting to John or Jacob is a complete waste of time, what with their yes Ma'am and no Ma'am. I really wish they would get it into their heads that I'm not anyone's Ma'am!

Margaret sat behind a substantial mahogany desk and regarded the girl impassively. "It appears you do have an impressive aptitude for Words of Power. That is Good." She paused, scrutinising Ellie, something about the look in her eyes calculating. "Although Helen tells me you are one who hopes to run before you have mastered walking."

Ellie considered arguing the point, but knew there was little value in it. "I want to learn," she offered simply.

The witch gave a brief smile. "A commendable aspiration. But there are limits to ambition." She glanced away then, her expression somewhat distant. "Not all are blessed with such talent. Some never progress. Some have to be satisfied with a place amongst the lower ranks. As was the case with my own daughter, Diana. You remember her, don't you?"

Now Ellie was uneasy and she was wary of looking the woman directly in the eye. "Yes...I'm sorry."

Margaret just nodded. "Be careful not to aim so high that when you inevitably fall you come to serious harm."

Now the girl felt puzzled and was at a complete loss. Margaret was obviously warning her, that much she recognised. "Have I done something wrong?"

The woman's answer was in a surprisingly kind tone. "Not at all, my dear. I am merely trying to advise you that there is no need to rush. Knowledge is best retained by slow absorption. One day, perhaps, you may even sit where I am now. So it is crucial that you develop your knowledge carefully."

Now Ellie's head was reeling. Was this witch seriously suggesting that she could become the Head of the Black Coven. She just sat there staring dumbly for several long moments before any words came out her mouth. "I'll try to keep that in mind," was the best she could come up with.

"I'm certain that you will."

Ellie wondered if she might risk a question while the elder witch was in such an apparently benevolent mood. "You told me about Rebecca," she began and Margaret's expression shifted subtly at the mention of the name. "I was wondering if I could learn more about her, you know, as she was the Head of our Coven?"

"She was the first Mother," Margaret voiced softly, her eyes becoming momentarily distant. "The Queen of all witches."

The girl pressed ahead, hoping to take advantage of the moment. "Are there any books about her I could read?"

The witch started, as if coming out of a reverie. "No," she said sharply. "There are none. And do not listen to any rumours or hearsay from other Covens. There is much envy, much bitterness from those who do not share our legacy. We of the Black Coven are the only rightful heirs to Rebecca's sovereignty."

They held each other's gaze and Ellie knew without question then that the old woman was lying. There was more here than she was saying. Much more. And she also understood that the power games these people were playing were going to affect her in ways that she could not anticipate. It was true, she had found herself a part of the Black Coven, but she had no real allegiance to them. No more than to the Reds or Whites or the others. But as far as the witches were concerned, you were either with them or against them. And that seemed to apply to the different Covens as well.

Luke had been dreaming again. Another nightmare in which he married a girl with a black ribbon in her hair. She had been Ellie, then she had been Beth and finally she had transformed into a faceless creature who screamed at him relentlessly. He had awoken once more sweating and breathing hard.

Wiping his hand across his brow, he turned over on his side and tried to get his thoughts together. His hands were sore with blisters and his muscles ached. But this physical discomfort was not what was bothering him. Luke just could not stand the thought of a life trapped in this place. It was like a prison without bars. And the witches controlled his every move.

Allana and Leonie were not so bad, but they were still part of it. Zack had become glum and non-communicative and he could barely look Ellie in the eye. Not because of their sham marriage, more because he felt she had become one of them. She dressed like them, spent most of her time with them. He had come to believe that his friend had been seduced by their promises of power.

He knew that his last attempt to break out of this town had met with tragic disaster and he wasn't about to repeat that again. But he really could not continue with this daily routine of zombie-like labour. There had to be another way out. There just had to be.

He would find it and he would take Beth with him. He hoped Zack would come too. But as for Ellie, he wasn't sure it would be safe to tell her, even if he worked out how to escape. Not only might she not want to leave, she might feel compelled to tell the other witches. Luke couldn't take that risk. He just couldn't trust Ellie anymore.

There were two schools. One for the boys, the other for the girls.

Beth had been told to help clear up after each class finished. The White Coven were obviously more than happy to loan her out for other duties. Maybe they felt she would be less of a liability away from their precious Coven building.

But this did give her an opportunity to listen in at least for the final few minutes of each session. And what she heard disturbed her greatly.

A Blue witch teaching a group of boys ranging from around five to ten years old was summarising her lesson.

"So remember," she intoned, "The Daughters must be protected at all costs. They are the heartbeat of our town. They will become Mothers and allow all of you to survive and flourish. Without the Mothers there would be no Witch Town, no future for any of you."

One very small boy raised his hand. "Why can't we learn how to use the Words, mistress?"

Instead of anger, as Beth might have expected, the woman just smiled benignly. "Because, Martin, boys were never meant for such things. All have their place. And their value. Sons and Husbands were intended to work and provide offspring. Daughters become Mothers and govern and direct. This is the way it has always been and will always continue to be. It is the way it should be, for the benefit of all."

The child, who Beth assessed to be one of the very youngest in the class, scratched his ear absently. "But why, mistress?"

Now the witch's genial disposition faltered. "Never question the order of things, Martin." Her words were hard-edged and her eyes bore into him. "Never be the one to bring discord. If you do so, severe penalties will be your reward. Please, all of you," and she let her gaze pass over the other boys, "learn this lesson very well. There will never be a place for agitators here. Be who you were born to be. A Son and a Husband. To serve Witch Town and so serve the Mothers."

None of the boys had any more questions after that.

Of course, Beth's experiences in the girl's school was significantly different.

Here, a witch in a white sash stood before a classroom of Daughters who hung on her every word.

"Of course, after The Testing, you will choose your House and that is a momentous decision. But regardless of this choice, your true duty and allegiance is to our community."

A girl in her early teens raised her hand, her cheeks slightly flushed and the woman nodded her permission to speak. "Mistress, can I ask about The Dance?"

There were a few low noises among the assembled girls and furtive glances were passed between them. "What is it that you want to know?" their teacher asked indulgently.

"Can we choose anyone? Anyone at all?"

The White Coven witch gave a flicker of a smile. "Within the obvious boundaries," she pronounced. "The Son must be of age and fit for the role."

The girl's bright eyes waned a little and there was a pleading sound in her voice. "But what if he is not quite of age. Only a few months. Could there not be a delay?"

The woman regarded her with infinite tolerance. "The Dance is held the day after The Testing. It has always been so. A new Mother can choose from all eligible Sons." She put particular emphasis on the word eligible. With a crest-fallen expression, the girl lowered her eyes. "Now go and think on what you have heard today. You are the future. Take that responsibility to heart and along with it the great honour it bestows upon you."

As Beth watched them leave, she caught the gaze of the girl who had asked the question about The Dance and saw there were tears welling in her eyes. The Daughter quickly looked away, but Beth understood that the laws of Witch Town left their mark on everyone, male or female. It was all so extreme, so stupidly rigid. But no-one seemed able to do anything about it. Everyone just accepted their place and did what they were told.

Zack decided he was going to just come out and ask. What did he have to lose. He was stuck in this place possibly for good, although he would never accept that and he would always look for a way to get out. But he had no idea if any of these men ever thought about that, ever even considered it as a real option. So he just went ahead and said it.

"Do you ever want to leave here?"

Jeremiah paused in his work bending to pull carrots from the soil. Luke was off somewhere else doing whatever task he had been told to complete. And there was no one else nearby, except for Leonie who was well out of earshot sitting on a high grass bank perhaps fifty feet away.

"Why are you asking?"

The boy collected up a few more vegetables and placed them in the basket at his feet. "I was just wondering," he said in a non-committal tone.

The man carried on with his work and glanced casually in Leonie's direction. "You come from the outside. Is it so much better than here?"

Zack gave this only a moment's thought and answered emphatically. "At least we would be free."

Without slowing his movements Jeremiah gave the boy a penetrating look. "Others have spoken of such things. Others who are no longer with us."

"What do you mean?" shot back Zack, stopping what he was doing.

Over on the verge, Leonie began to gaze in their direction.

"Work," directed the man firmly. Zack did as he was told and tugged at a stubborn carrot. Jeremiah spoke quietly, his concentration appearing to be on the task at hand. "Our guardian there," he nodded nonchalantly at Leonie, "her Husband was killed about a year ago."

"I know," the boy replied, following the man's lead and speaking quietly.

Without looking at him, Jeremiah gave a humourless smile. "So you also know that a Mother can only take one Husband. It is the law."

"I know that as well." Zack said this in a agitated way, his mind straying to the young witch who sat close by.

"Best remembered," his companion suggested. "But did you know how Robert died? Or Why?"

"Robert?" repeated Zack. "No, I don't. Will you tell me?"

Jeremiah glanced at him very briefly. "Are you certain you really want to know?"

The boy felt as if this had become an unnecessary game. "Just tell me," he asked with just a slight show of irritation.

The man moved his basket along with him and it was almost overflowing now. "I am merely offering you a chance to avoid more trouble. You have already had your fair share."

Considering this, Zack tossed another carrot into his own basket. "I'm still listening."

"Robert had ideas that were not welcomed by the Mothers. He paid the price for suggesting that men should have more say in their lives. More freedom, as you put it."

Zack was trying his best to keep up. What did this really mean? "And what about you?"

The man glanced quickly at him, his eyes masked by shadow. "I am Husband to Abigail of the White Coven. She is the Head of her House. It would be very dangerous for me to think anything."

"But you do," countered the boy.

"Perhaps," Jeremiah conceded, "and perhaps there are others who share such thoughts."

Now Zack was becoming very interested in where this conversation might be taking him. "Others? Can I talk to them?"

There was no more room in the man's basket and he stopped his work. "Robert was just as intent on talking about these matters. Now he is dead. Do you want to meet the same fate?"

With a look of grim resolve, Zack gave his answer. "I'm willing to take that chance. Everything is wrong here. Everything. And I'm not just going to fall in line and go along with it if there's a way to fight back."

Jeremiah straightened and hoisted up the basket of vegetables. "I will pass on your words. Then we will see."

17

So who was this Rebecca exactly? Margaret really idolises her and that gives me the creeps. Every time I walk past that damn statue I feel strange, as if it has some kind of energy or something. I know I'm just being stupid, but I can't seem to shake it off. I'm going to try to get into Margaret's room and see if she has some books that will give me more information. She says there aren't any, but I know she's lying to me. Whatever it is that she's hiding I'm going to find it. And something tells me that when I do, things are going to get even more weird around here than they already are. Which is saying something I can tell you!

The chance to do a little snooping came unexpectedly when Ellie had been summoned for another one of Margaret's chitchats about Witch Town politics. She had been in full flow concerning the untrustworthy nature of the White Coven in particular, when there had been an abrupt knock on the door. The elderly witch had called out in an impatient voice. "Yes!?"

A Black Coven Witch who Ellie didn't recognise entered in an obvious state of distress. "Angela and Edith are arguing again. I fear that this time they may lose control of their senses and become violent."

With an exasperated hiss of breath, Margaret left her seat and stalked out of the room without a word or a glance at Ellie, leaving her quite alone there.

Now was the time to take a proper look around. But she knew she may not have very long. The door had been left open so she quickly closed it, taking care to do it softly. She now cast her gaze about the room, scanning the walls. As was the case elsewhere in the Coven House, there were many books stacked neatly on shelves, but Ellie knew instinctively that none of these would prove to be what she was after. If Margaret had anything that was more significant and revealing, the old witch would certainly keep it secret and away from prying eyes.

Ellie moved around the room, examining the furnishings. She took a closer look at Margaret's desk, absently wondering if she might have a locked drawer, but a quick inspection revealed that none were sealed and the contents were uninteresting.

She went nearer to a large bookcase against one of the walls and read some of the titles. They were just more of the same as the volumes she had already read. Ellie glanced back at the door nervously, afraid that the woman would suddenly return and knew she had to find something soon or her opportunity would be lost.

With the fear of being discovered propelling her, she began to move around the interior more frantically, touching the walls, feeling her way around the various ornaments and paintings that adorned Margaret's room. Then she stopped, becoming very still. Something had occurred to her and she felt a buzz of anticipation building within.

I'm a witch, her mind informed her with a certain amount of ironic good humour.

She was and that meant she could use her abilities to help her achieve her goal. Ellie thought back over what she had learnt and also what she had read. Yes, there were definite possibilities she realised. Hurriedly assessing her options she made her choice.

"Reveal," she said and the word felt potent in the silence of the room.

Almost immediately, a small panel slid open that had appeared to be merely another part of the wall. Without wasting any time, Ellie went to it and looked inside. There were several items of note. A large ornate ring was one, but the girl dismissed this for the moment. Another was a small silver key. And beneath these was something that caused Ellie's pulse to race even faster. A book, or to be more exact a weathered manuscript bound in some kind of amber coloured leather.

Taking another anxious glance over her shoulder, Ellie pulled the volume out, leaving the other objects behind. Bringing it closer to her so that she could see if there was a title, the girl became aware of an odd waxy odour that emanated from the binding. She found it quite unpleasant and automatically pushed the book away from her. But then getting a grip on herself she knew she had to act quickly and decisively.

The amulet around her neck had by now become clear and she knew she was would be able to utilise another Word. She spoke this time in more of a whisper, becoming ever more fearful of Margaret's return. "Conceal."

The panel closed and Ellie unceremoniously stuffed the manuscript inside her garments. Taking one last look around the room to make sure she hadn't disturbed anything she returned to her seat and waited.

As it turned out it was several long minutes before the witch finally appeared, but Ellie still felt as if her guilt was written bold upon her face. But Margaret swiftly sent her away, apparently now preoccupied with the internal squabbles among her Coven.

Of course, Ellie knew full well that if the woman checked her hiding place she would be identified instantly as the thief. But it was too late now. She had taken action and she did not regret it.

Leaving the Black Coven house she walked with purpose along gravel pathways, past many buildings that loomed over her, stark in their antiquated construction.

She just wanted to get back to her own residence, intent on examining the strange manuscript, confident that its contents would disclose to her valuable knowledge that Margaret had hoped to keep hidden.

And whatever that might be, Ellie knew that she had stepped over a line now. If Margaret did find out what she had done, any allegiance the elder witch might have towards her because they shared the same Coven would soon be forgotten.

What had Abigail done to that baby? Beth couldn't shake the mental image of the syringe going into the infant's neck and how he had cried out in pain. It made her feel sick inside. She had gone back to check on Joan as soon as she was able to and had found the mother with the child, the baby apparently quite well. Still there was that sense of cold disappointment in the woman, but at least she was holding him now and it appeared she would take her duties as a new parent seriously.

And yet, Beth knew that something was very wrong.

But she just didn't know what to do about it. Who could she tell? Surely the other witches knew what was going on and would they even care if they didn't?

She never saw any of the others and was never allowed out of the White Coven House, unless it was to go to one of the schools and then she was always accompanied by a group of the boys and at least one witch as overseer.

It was maddening. And her feelings of pent up frustration and anger were growing with every passing second.

Beth even considered trying to broach the subject with one of the older boys, but they were all so submissive and obedient to the witches every instruction that she knew it was at best pointless and at worst perilous.

Now alone in her windowless prison cell, as she had come to think of it, she sat disconsolately on her bed. She honestly believed she would go crazy if this continued for much longer. Beth had lost track of time and although she knew it wasn't that many days since they had arrived in Witch Town, she really couldn't say exactly how long it was. For perhaps the hundredth time she took out her mobile phone and tapped it idly, knowing her battery was long since dead, but doing it more out of habit than for any logical reason. There was no signal here anyway. These people had no means of contact with the outside world and that seemed to be the way they liked it. She almost threw the phone at the wall, but thought better of it. She would not give in to anger and frustration. She would not give up hope just yet.

Zack was working alongside Luke again and was trying to think how to let his friend know about his conversation with Jeremiah. The problem was Leonie and Allana seemed intent on staying closer than ever today. Maybe it was because the two boys were using forks to dig a field for planting seeds and the witches were concerned that they might use them as weapons. Whatever the case, they were well within hearing, not that he or his friend were really likely to do anything of that kind anyway. At any other time, Zack might have relished the idea of the dark haired girl being in close proximity, but just then it seemed insufferable.

"How are you enjoying being married?" Allana called over to Luke, her mood obviously far more buoyant than usual.

Luke scowled slightly, not sure if was being subjected to ridicule. "It's great," he replied with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

Either Allana did not recognise his tone or she chose to ignore it, because she continued on in a cheerful voice. "My Husband has proven to be a good choice for me. I am now with child. Perhaps soon Ellie of the Black Coven will receive the same good news." Luke was digging the earth with his fork and when he heard this he almost speared his foot with the sharp prongs. He threw an embarrassed glance at the other boy and muttered something inaudible. "Excuse me," Allana voiced, "I did not hear what you said."

With an expression of total infuriation, Luke pushed the fork viciously into the ground. "I said I'm celibate," he hissed.

"Excuse me?" the White Coven Witch said, her eyes widening.

"You heard me." Luke stopped what he was doing and looked her in the eye, all of his pent up emotions bubbling up to the surface. His face was already covered in sweat and grime, but now his cheeks were red with irritation.

Leonie had said nothing during this exchange and appeared distracted and Zack wondered what she was thinking about. As for this conversation between Allana and his friend, he really did not know how to react.

"You will do your duty," Allana attested, her good mood fading.

"My duty!" the boy repeated, "and what will you do if I don't!? Force me!? What kind of insanity is this!?" He threw down his fork in disgust. Now both witches watched him cautiously. "Don't panic," Luke told them with contempt, "if I was going to do something I would kept hold of the damn fork!"

"You should calm yourself," Leonie advised him.

"I'm calm," the boy said sourly. "I'm so calm."

"Take it easy, Luke," Zack chipped in, knowing that his friend was really rattled and not sure what he might do next.

Luke gave him a grim look. "What are we doing this for anyway? It's all a joke! Everything is a stupid joke!" He kicked at the earth with ferocity. "I'm not only celibate, I've decided I'm gay! What do you think of that!? Is that allowed here!? Or do you kill anyone who doesn't fit in with your plans!?"

"What is he talking about?" Allana asked, turning from Luke to Zack.

"You witches are Nazis, do you realise that!? Nazis!" called out Luke, his voice rising.

"I think this has all gone far enough," Leonie declared. Her gaze found first Zack and then settled on Luke. "You should get back to work or I will be forced to report this."

"Report to who? The Fuhrer Margaret!?" Luke asked with heavy sarcasm.

"You are obviously unwell," the blonde haired witch interjected. "Perhaps you should take a rest." Her expression said she was uneasy about the unpredictable behaviour of the boy and what she considered to be his incomprehensible ranting.

"Do you see this," Luke said, now addressing his friend, "they don't even know do they? Are you really telling me that there are no gay men at all here? Are you seriously telling me you have never heard of the Nazis!?"

Leonie addressed him with a steely tone. "Things that exist outside do not mean anything to us here. Your history...your ideology does not apply in Witch Town."

Luke shook his head in utter disgust. "This place is worse than I even thought it was. Sexuality is not ideology. That's just stupid. This place is stupid! I've had enough of it!" And with that he turned and started to walk away, trudging over the rutted earth of the field they had been working in. Beyond them in the distance there was a dense thicket of trees and further on this became a wood and the boy seemed to have made that his destination.

Leonie glanced at her companion with obvious alarm, but appeared reluctant to act. Allana however had no such reticence. "Stop," she cried out and Luke came to an immediate standstill.

"What are you doing!?" Zack shouted, afraid that she had hurt the other boy.

"Bring him back," ordered the witch, "or the next Word I use will cause him a good deal more discomfort."

With a furious look at both of the women, Zack ran over to his friend and saw that his eyes were almost popping out, a tear rolling very slowly down over his cheek. His lips were clenched shut. "It's okay, don't fight it. It won't last long," Zack reassured him, holding his arm. "You need to get a grip on yourself or things will only get worse."

Luke's eyes seemed to stare right into him, something in them causing Zack to feel ashamed at his own compliance. But in the end what could they do? This is what happened if they tried to resist. Or they could attempt the same path they had already travelled and maybe someone else would lose their life. If he really believed that they could actually escape that way, Zack wondered if he would be willing to do that again. He really wasn't sure. It wasn't what he wanted, but things were becoming desperate.

But the reality was he did not believe it would work. All he could do for the moment was hope that there really were others in this place who shared their opposition to the rules of Witch Town. Jeremiah had suggested that was the case. And he had to also hope that there was some way that they could challenge this perverse system and somehow overthrow it.

18

Something about this book makes my skin crawl. I don't even like touching it. But I need to find out what Margaret's so keen to keep secret. Once I've read it, I will have to try to put it back before she realises it's gone. Easier said than done. Now if I can just get past feeling physically sick even opening the thing, maybe I can start to get to the bottom of what's really going on around here.

Extracts from the journal of Rebecca Marsh

March 19th 1612

My father has finally returned from his extended trip to Central America. I truly wish I could say I am happy to see him, but his mood as ever is morose. Samuel barely recalls who he is, having not seen his Papa for almost three years. Mama makes pretence that all is well, but I know it is not. He has now locked himself away in his laboratory, takes very little in the way of food or drink and sees no-one.

March 22nd 1612

It will be my sixteenth birthday in just two days. I will be presented to society and no doubt expected to begin my quest for a husband. Mama may find herself disappointed in that regard. My Father has asked to see me and I find myself anxious and somewhat uneasy as he has not spoken to me since his return.

March 24th 1612

I am sixteen years of age. Many wealthy men now appear to take an interest in me, or so my Mama informs me. I am unimpressed. My interview with my father proved to be even more perplexing than I had anticipated. He seemed strangely overwrought, almost as if he were fearful of something. The pendant he gave me for my birthday is both beautiful and grotesque. He fashioned it himself using a fragment of some ancient stone he discovered on his travels. And while the opaque gem itself is most attractive, it is the bizarre spike he has designed as part of the chain that causes me to refuse to wear it. Apart from the obvious discomfort such an attachment would cause, I find myself repelled by it in a way I cannot articulate.

March 27th 1612

Something uncanny and startling has occurred that I can barely relate. I had kept the pendant my father gave me locked away in my bureau, but last night I felt compelled to look upon it once more. Even as I held it in my hands, all at once it took on a life of its own; this is the only way I can describe it and it flew from my grasp to attach itself at the nape of my neck. The spike penetrated my flesh and though I felt no pain, yet there is a peculiar sensitivity, as if in some manner my very energy is being channelled through it. Now I cannot remove it. Although at first my horror was acute, I have to confess this sensation soon subsided and I feel as if I were changed. I know this may seem folly, but within I feel a stirring in my spirit that will not be denied.

March 29th 1612

Father is dead. I do not grieve. I have never really felt any affection for him if truth be told. He was always away on his travels so I knew little of him. The physician tells us that it was his heart that gave way. I have taken it upon myself to examine his laboratory and have now seen the immense wooden crate returned with him from Central America. It contains a great, crystalline stone from whence my own small fragment that adorns my neck was taken. I have also found a blueprint for his design for the necklace itself. This I have removed to keep for myself. I may have need of it.

April 19th 1612

I am scarcely able to put pen to paper. My heart races madly in my chest. Today I have discovered something astonishing. But I rush ahead of myself. It began when Samuel demanded to be allowed into the garden. The servants called me to intercede as he has become increasingly agitated of late. Mama makes excuses and says that he has been provoked by the death of our father. But I have no tolerance with him. Even as he began to reproach me with his wretched entreaties, I found that I could stand it no longer. It was then that I felt something stir within me; I can only name it an energy coursing through me. And without truly putting thought to the action I said just a single word. Silence. The effect was instantaneous. It was as if Samuel had been struck dumb. I know this will sound absurd but I vow that these events transpired as I have related them. Samuel's inability to speak and mark me, it was so, only persisted for perhaps a few minutes, but it was enough to tell me that something wonderful has taken place and that I am forever altered.

April 27th 1612

I must keep my gift secret. Already I see the parallels with the tales of witchcraft I hear gossiped about among the servants. Many of these so-called witches have been put to death in most terrible ways. But my power, as I have come to think of it, is not black magic or any such nonsense. And now I speculate if my Father knew that this pendant would bestow such wonders on its wearer?

June 13th 1612

The fire was an accident. I was merely experimenting with employing the Words. And I do feel remorse. My Mama did not deserve to perish in such a way. As for Samuel I find I have no sentiments whatsoever. I have taken lodgings while my family's affairs are put in order by my solicitor. The future beckons me and I am making plans to change my life. I have named my pendant a SpiritHeart as I have become convinced that I am in some way able to channel my very essence into the amulet. My ability grows daily and my command of different Words exhilarates me.

Ellie put down the manuscript and took a long breath. She didn't know what to make of this. It all seemed so crazy. What she had read so far changed her entire perception of what the witches were. She had simply believed they were throwbacks to the witchcraft of the past, what she had read about or saw in the movies. But of course, when she really thought about it, they were very different.

No wands, no spells, no black cats. Just Words. And pendants. Just like the one she herself wore.

Zack trod carefully with Luke after his outburst. It wasn't that he didn't sympathise with his friend, but he sensed that the other boy was buckling under the strain and wanted to do all he could to rein him in and that way, keep him safe.

In the meantime he wanted to speak with Jeremiah again and attempt to gauge the level of dissatisfaction among the men towards the dominion of the witches. Even if it were just a few dissenters, at least that would mean potential allies. And that was better than nothing.

He had also wrestled with the decision he had ultimately come to, not to tell Luke. But while it had nothing to do with lack of trust, Zack just felt that it was better, at least for the time being, for he alone to get involved in what was treason as far as the women would be concerned. For now he would only risk himself. Luke had more than enough on his plate anyway.

At first Zack had been outraged and horrified at the idea of his sister and Luke being married. But he saw now that it all been a charade to keep the witches off Ellie's back. Admittedly it did seem to have caused some awkward moments between the two of them and a good deal of embarrassment, but that seemed a small price to pay.

To add to Zack's problem's, as much as he might like to pretend otherwise, he was developing strong feelings for Leonie. He acknowledged that it was stupid and irrational, but he just couldn't help himself. He was drawn to her. Zack supposed he was the moth to her lethal flame, but try as he might he could not resist. Every time he caught her eye, they both swiftly averted their gaze, but he knew that she knew. And what was more, he was convinced that she felt something too.

Of course he was also aware of the laws of Witch Town. Only one Husband and Leonie's was now dead. He wondered if she had known herself what Robert had been involved in and also if she had knowledge of what had caused his death.

Could he ask her? Would she allow him to speak to her about such personal things?

Zack decided there was only one way to find out.

Extracts from the journal of Rebecca Marsh

July 27th 1612

I am ensconced in my new residence. As the only heir to my family's assets I now find myself to be a extremely wealthy young woman. The great stone has been transported, not without some difficulty, to the basement of this house. My newfound ability charges me with great excitement and ambition. I will use my fortune to discover why I have been blessed with this gift. But I must be very wary. The woman in Pendle accused of witchcraft was taken to trial today and I must not allow anyone to know what I am capable of. At least not yet.

October 2nd 1612

My agents have located both a metalsmith and a stone mason and I am paying them a very generous fee to study my father's blueprint and remove suitable fragments from the Central American stone. Of course I never let either leave my sight. I remain while they work, content that should they attempt any deceit a simple Word would be enough to deal with either or indeed, both of them.

December 11th 1612

Success! My employees have in tandem, been able to reproduce a duplicate of my SpiritHeart. Now I am determined to test its effectiveness. But I need a suitable subject to conduct my experiment on. A maid perhaps. I must be vigilant. Despite my position of social affluence, the atmosphere of religious zeal against the outbreak of witchcraft across our lands continues.

December 26th 1612

I do not record this with any sense of satisfaction. Quite the contrary. I have been compelled to take an action I did not solicit. The foolish metalsmith (I will not name him) attempted a most heinous crime against my person. Namely extortion. I refused to pay him of course, but I could not allow him to jeopardise my work. The Word I uttered was instinctive and without thought. It was not a calculated deed. But I put an end to his life nonetheless.

December 29th 1612

I do not know what I expected. But in truth I did believe something would transpire. I offered the new SpiritHeart to the serving girl and waited in expectation. But nothing came to pass. The stupid girl tried to put it on, but the chain lacerated her neck and she cast it aside. I knew immediately she was not as I am. Is this because only my own original pendant possesses this power? I do not believe so. It is my conviction that the power comes from within and the necklace is only a conduit. I must redouble my efforts. I will use every resource at my disposal.

January 28th 1613

I have come to hold the firm belief that there are others who possess my gift. And the SpiritHeart can be employed to channel the energy from within to give power to the Word. Furthermore, I now wonder if perhaps these witches who are so often spoken of, are indeed kindred to me. Not all are vagrants and hags. Some must come from more respectable, educated families. I will send my agents to seek these out and make every effort to obtain their co-operation in my endeavours. If my hopes prove to be correct, I will be their benefactor and their protector.

March 5th 1613

Allison is an unruly girl. She is a year older than myself, but seems so much younger in worldly ways. I believe that I removed her from her home barely in time to save her from the hunters who were scouring that vicinity. The same rumours that led me to her would surely have brought them calling before too long.
March 11th 1613

This is a momentous day. Allison and I have become Sisters. She and I share the gift. Admittedly she appears not to grasp the Words as easily as I have been able to. But nonetheless she is able to use the pendant as I do. I am no longer alone. And this means there will be others who can join with us. I will continue to seek them out. There will be a new family. One who command Words of power. And I will be their Mother.

20

So far so good. Margaret hasn't stormed into my house and demanded to get her book back. Not yet at least. But what I'm finding out is only making everything more confusing. I can't help it but I have to admit I'm hooked. I really do want to know more about the history of this place. My history. Because however much I might not like to face it, this must all be connected to me somehow. Rebecca may have started it all, but now I'm part of it too and it's anyone's guess how things are going to end up. Where does it all leave me? In over my head is the phrase that comes to mind.

"I have arranged a meeting." Jeremiah keep his voice neutral and didn't even glance in Zack's direction.

The boy followed suit and carried on picking up potatoes. Another day, another vegetable. "So who am I meeting exactly?"

"That is not important," the man told him firmly, "but you will understand that any misjudgements could prove to be very costly."

Zack didn't need reminding. "I know how it works around here."

"Best that you do," observed Jeremiah.

Zack continued wrestling with potatoes. Before this he had only ever seen them on his plate. Now his fingernails were caked with mud and all he really wanted to do was get washed and have a long, cool drink of water. But it was only mid-morning and they would be expected to work several more hours before any kind of break.

"When?" he asked simply, setting his thirst aside for the moment.

The man looked at him at last and there was something intense and determined in his gaze. "Tonight," he said softly. "We will come for you."

Ellie had paused in her reading to try to put the things she now knew in some kind of order. Her mind whirled.

So Rebecca had indeed been the first, or at least the first as far as the witches were concerned. But even calling them witches seemed inaccurate, as Rebecca herself had taken those involved at the time and transformed them into something entirely different. Whatever consensus there was among the community to rid the English countryside of witchcraft, it had not been focused on Rebecca and her acolytes, at least not at first. Maybe that came later. Ellie would have to read on and find out.

But what troubled Ellie most of all was the nature of the SpiritHeart. She absently fingered her own pendant, aware of its power and sensitive to its intrinsic connection with her body through the flesh at the back of her neck.

But all of this would need to wait. For now she was about to have another lesson with Helen in the use of Words of Power. As much as she disliked the austere schooling of the Black witch, she still valued it. Knowledge is power she had heard somewhere and never more so than in this place.

She arrived in the hall to find Helen accompanied by another of their Coven, a younger woman in her mid thirties. She also wore the black sash of a level four.

"This is Grace," introduced Helen curtly. "She will assist me." Ellie waited. Grace said nothing, only eyeing her with indifference. "What do you think would happen," the older woman continued, "If both Grace and I attacked you at the same time?"

This caught the girl by surprise. She considered the question for a moment before replying. "Aren't there rules In Witch Town that forbid combat?"

"Don't be foolish, girl," rebuked Helen, "do you truly think that edict has never been broken? What will you say if you should be so unfortunate to face another Mother in battle? Will you quote laws at them while they defeat you?"

"I don't understand," Ellie said, trying to avoid the mocking stare of Grace. "I thought..."

"You thought!?" Helen interrupted, "You thought wrong. Combat between witches goes back to the very earliest days. Even to the time of Rebecca."

"So is that why she was killed then?" Ellie couldn't help but ask the question.

Both witches facing her scowled in unison.

"Do not speak of things you know nothing about. Just know that rivalry between individuals as well as Covens has always been present. So what would you do?"

"Do?" queried Ellie, a little distracted by what had been said to her.

Helen rolled her eyes with condescension. "Yes. If both of us spoke a Word of Power?" Her small eyes gleamed darkly.

"I...I'm not sure."

"It hadn't even occurred to you had it?" The woman was enjoying the girl's unease immensely.

"Well, no," admitted Ellie. "So what should I do?"

"Watch...and learn." With barely a pause Helen then added, "Weaken." Immediately her amulet began to fill with a nebulous fluid.

Ellie felt light headed, her body becoming far too heavy, her limbs weighted down as if they were fashioned from stone.

Now Grace finally spoke. "Dismember," she said with a casual air.

Ellie's eyes bulged with the shock of hearing the word. She almost stuttered in panic, trying to think how to protect herself.

Part of her brain fully expected her body to begin to rip apart.

But nothing happened. She still experienced a terrible weakness, but that was all. She fought for control of her senses.

"Now you see," Helen's voice came to her, seeming further away than the few feet that separated them. "Only one Word can take effect before the recipient has the opportunity to respond. Very inconvenient I would say, but it is the way things work. This means you can defend yourself before Grace's Word can take effect. But even so, the odds are not in your favour."

Ellie saw both women through a haze of distortion. She was battling to hold herself upright, everything becoming hazy and unfocused. She knew she had to act, but her mind was sluggish.

Before her Grace's smile widened. The girl dug her fingernails into her hands and concentrated. She allowed herself to focus on both women, fixing them in her mind's eye.

"Propel," she uttered, her voice much stronger than she had expected it to be.

It was as if an incredibly powerful wind blew through the great hall, even though not one of them felt even the slightest breeze and both Helen and Grace literally flew backwards through the air, travelling at least twenty feet before they slammed into a side wall and slumped to the floor. Neither moved.

Instantly Ellie's strength returned and she flexed her hands. Her SpiritHeart seemed to pulse upon her chest.

Just for a moment she wondered if she had killed them. And even though she didn't think so, she found that in her heart there was no room for remorse or sentiment. Ellie watched the two forms as they very slowly began to move into sitting positions, dazed, pained expressions on their faces.

Ellie's expression was one of calm assurance however.

And in her eyes there was something that if Luke or Beth or especially Zack had been there to witness it, would have frightened them more than any other thing they had seen since entering Witch Town.

Before Zack could meet up with the mysterious men of Witch Town who shared his dissatisfaction with the way they were viewed and treated, he wanted to talk to Leonie. He had made up his mind that he was going to ask her the kind of questions he knew full well were likely to cause embarrassment and possibly humiliation, but he couldn't just go along any longer not knowing.

And now his opportunity had arrived.

Luke had gone off for the evening back to Ellie's house. Even the thought of these things left him a little punch-drunk as he tried to accept the reality of it.

His own place of residence was still the same undersized room that he had first been assigned upon arrival. In a strange kind of way, he really did now consider it to be home. Zack mentally noted that given time, even in the most outrageous circumstances, people really could get used to almost anything.

Leonie was escorting him back to his room as was her custom. They had reached the stage now that she did not anticipate him giving her any real trouble and had he been inclined to do so, he could have taken advantage of this relaxation in her watchfulness. But he had long since decided he would do nothing to harm her or indeed, cause her any problems.

He cleared his throat, somewhat theatrically. "Eh...can I ask you something?"

The girl continued to walk alongside him. Other women and men passed them as they went. None took any notice. In Witch Town, people went about their own business. Covens tended to keep to their own. The men, of course, went where they were directed. Or so Zack had thought.

"What is it?" she questioned, her voice quiet.

"What happened to Robert...your husband I mean?"

Leonie shot him a look, her expression difficult to read. "You should not be asking me about such matters. It is not your place or your concern?"

"Did you love him?"

Now the girl came to a halt and her face told him that she was both shocked at this question, but more than that she was hurt. Zack stood his ground and watched her, his eyes sympathetic. "Love has little to do with marriage here," she replied, her voice wavering just a little.

Zack considered how best to proceed. "And now you have to remain alone for the rest of your life. Does that seem fair?"

The young witch bristled at this. "The law is the law," she proclaimed, but something in her tone gave lie to her conviction.

"But what if you did fall in love?" the boy persisted. He understood how far he was pushing this now, but he could not stop himself. Already, without realising it, he had come a little closer to her. They had found themselves in a narrow lane that passed behind a barn where corn and wheat were stored. The twilight of the evening cast tall shadows upon the wooden structure.

Leonie turned her head away, now refusing to meet his gaze. "What do you want of me?" she said in barely above a whisper.

Now Zack stepped in close enough for his arm to lightly touch hers. He so much wanted to just take her in his arms and kiss her ."I want you to tell me the truth."

She spun around then to face him and her eyes were filling with unshed tears. "The truth," she whispered, staring up at him, "How can you expect the truth. You know nothing of our life here, of our heritage. You come from outside. How can you ever think to understand what it is like for me."

Very gently Zack touched her arm. She did not pull away. "I'm sorry," he told her, his voice a little horse. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that I really like you, I know you know that. You do, don't you?" He gazed down at her, his emotions beginning to get the better of him.

"I know," she breathed, her green eyes soft in the half-light. "But I also know it can never be."

Zack felt his face become hot and he tried his very best to keep his tone even when he spoke. "That's only because the laws here are wrong. They don't make any sense. Why should a woman be forced into a loveless marriage and then expected to remain alone for the rest of her life if it doesn't work out. That's totally stupid!"

"It didn't work out, as you say it, because Robert died," countered the girl.

"But you didn't love him." Zack's voice was louder than he intended and he took a prolonged breath as he steadied himself. "I'm sorry." He moved his hand up from her arm to touch her hair.

She just stared into his eyes, almost transfixed. "No," she answered softly, "But he was my husband."

Zack let his fingers slide through the hair that fell over her shoulders and he tenderly brushed her cheek. "I want you." Now he had said it, what was in his heart. His pulse was going at breakneck speed, he was losing all sense of restraint. Without allowing himself to think any more, he kissed her. Leonie kissed him in return and he held her close, pulling her to him.

Zack almost ignored the sound of footfalls further along the track, unwilling to let her lips leave his. But reluctantly he stepped away from her, their eyes locked together.

He glanced to his right to see the silhouette of a man coming towards them. "We should go," he told her huskily.

She said nothing in return, but began to walk beside him and as they met the man who had interrupted them, Zack saw that it was Jeremiah. He kept his expression neutral and nodded a greeting, but he could not help thinking that even in the poor light of the early evening, there was something in the man's gaze that said he knew exactly what Zack had been doing.

Beth made it her business to find some extra cleaning duties that took her close to Abigail's room.

She made a big show of mopping the hallway, her diligence and thoroughness entirely out of character. But few of the witches noticed. They passed her by as if she were part of the building itself, nothing more than a useful implement that could be used then tossed aside when no longer needed.

Once the coast was clear she approached the door of the room Abigail had taken the baby to. She really expected it to be locked and felt a rush of adrenalin when the handle turned easily and she was able to quickly enter, shutting it quietly behind her.

Wasting no time she went to the bureau she had seen Abigail take the container from and opened several drawers until she found what she was looking for. It was there. The box that held the syringe.

Beth was suddenly reluctant to open it, something about what was within filling her with disgust. Despite the fact that she still had no idea what Abigail had injected the baby with, she knew instinctively that it could only be something abnormal and depraved. There was no love or care in the act she had witnessed. Of that she was certain.

Opening the container she looked down grimly at the syringe. Now what was she going to do? Take it? For what purpose? She really wished she had come there with a plan.

But any such consideration was soon forgotten as the door abruptly opened and a White Coven Witch regarded her with outraged astonishment.

"What are you doing!?" the witch snarled at her.

Without thinking Beth put the needle behind her back, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but more so with alarm. "Nothing," was all she could say, knowing how stupid it sounded.

The White witch stood between Beth and the door and now she shut it behind her. There was no way to escape. And what would be the point? She would be reported. As for her punishment, Beth didn't want to think about that. She knew it was likely to be very severe.

"Show me," the woman commanded her and such was the force of the words, Beth almost did. But tightening her grip on the syringe pressed against her back, she shook her head. "No."

"What did you say!?" the witch barked at her. She began to move swiftly forward, descending upon the girl, her hands outstretched to seize hold of her. "Do...as...you...are..."

She didn't get the last word out.

Beth brought the needle up and over and plunged it straight down into the woman's throat.

The witch's eyes bulged. She staggered a little. For a few seconds, like in some slow motion ballet, she tottered backward, her hands moving up to flap at the protruding object in her neck.

Then she collapsed.

Beth just stood very still, looking down. What had she done? It had all happened so fast. There had been no time to consider the consequences.

Beth's mind cracked just a little. She peered at the slumped form of the woman on the floor. There was no sign of movement. Her chest did not rise and fall.

Ding dong, the witch is dead. Beth's thoughts were disjointed and irregular. She felt slightly woozy.

I need to get out of here.

She knew she should run, but her legs would not function. Her brain sent the appropriate messages, but nothing happened.

Go. Go!

Finally she moved. She stumbled slightly, afraid to get too close to the witch's dead body. There was no doubt in her mind that she really was dead.

Taking what seemed an endless span of time, she made it to the door. Do not look back, she told herself. But she did it anyway.

The white scarf the woman wore had become entangled around her neck somehow and half covered the syringe. But she was most definitely dead.

With a shaky hand, Beth opened the door and slipped outside, pushing it closed behind her as she went. She collected up her mop and bucket that she had left in the hallway and moved as rapidly as she could without spilling any water.

She felt like she was in a daze.

They would come for her, she knew it. But where could she hide? There was nowhere to go, no one to turn to. She was lost.

Beth understood then that her time in Witch Town was truly about to come to an end. And in the back of her mind, a tiny voice seemed to cry out in a lament of despair, that maybe it was for the best. She just really didn't have the heart to continue with this anymore. It had all become too much for her to bear.

21

I feel very strange. I can't help it. Having this kind of power is amazing. The way I felt when I sent those two witches flying through the air. It gave me such a buzz. I hate myself for it. And yet, I know it's who I really am. I don't want to be different. But the truth is I always have been. And now I understand why. I was never meant to fit in with those so called 'normal' people. I am a witch and I can do things other people can't. That sets me apart. So even though I might pretend to myself that there's something wrong in that, in my heart I don't believe it. I believe this is who I was born to be.

They didn't take long to come.

Zack waited in his room, just sitting there on the side of his bed. He had said a strained, self-conscious goodnight to Leonie.

They both knew that they had started something that was bound to cause very serious problems, but neither spoke of it. Just before she left him, he touched her hand briefly, no more than the slightest pressure against her skin. When their eyes met it was far more powerful than words.

Now in his cramped accommodation, Zack asked himself what on earth he was doing. She was a witch after all. Not some girl who worked in a shop. But wasn't that part of the attraction, the fact that she was so different from anyone he had ever known before.

He suppressed a smile as he replayed their kiss in his mind.

His door opened abruptly and Jeremiah and another man who he knew by sight, if not by name, entered.

"Ready?" queried Jeremiah with urgency.

"Where are we going?" Zack suddenly felt uneasy.

Could he really trust these men? Maybe it was some kind of trap.

"To a place we can speak without fear of being overheard," said Jeremiah's companion. "My name is Daniel." He put out his hand and hesitantly the boy accepted it and felt the man's strong grip.

"There is a watcher," advised Jeremiah.

"Leonie?" Zack asked with some alarm.

Jeremiah gave him a knowing look. "No," he remarked, "she needs her rest as much as the next Mother. But you are kept under observation night and day. Leonie of the Green Coven is your daytime guardian. You would be unlikely to see the Mother on night shift. That is, unless you decided to go for a midnight stroll. As is the case this evening."

"So how are we going to avoid being seen?" Zack voiced this before adding, "and didn't she see you come in here?"

Now Jeremiah chuckled and Daniel shared his good humour. "This is my house, lad. I come and go as I please. And even in Witch Town I can invite a friend in for a late night drink."

Zack didn't consider himself to be slow or dense, but questions were turning inside his head. "But you don't sleep here. How can it be your house?"

"You forget I am Husband to Abigail of the White Coven. This gives me certain privileges."

"Privileges that I do not share," added Daniel dryly, "as I am Husband to Claire of the Blue Coven, a mere level two!"

The boy shook his head. "So there is no equality even among the men."

This got both of them laughing softly. "Equality is not a word used much here," was Daniel's amused comment.

"So how do we get out without her seeing us?" Zack asked, wanting to get on with it.

Jeremiah gave a sideways glance at the other man. "Daniel doesn't hold his drink too well, now do you, Dan!" he said with a wink at the other man. "And I think maybe he's had a little too much already!"

Daniel grinned. "I really hope I can avoid making a fool of myself on my way home. I wouldn't want to cause a disturbance."

Zack gazed at each man in turn. "A diversion," he asserted.

With an even wider smile than before, Daniel clapped his hands together. "Maybe he's brighter than he looks!"

Jeremiah came closer to his friend and gestured towards the door. "Maybe, maybe not" he said, giving Zack a strange look that implied that the words had a deeper meaning, "but let's get on with this, or our friends will get restless."

Immediately Daniel was all business, his expression set with steely resolve. "Good luck," he voiced and then turned to make his way out of Zack's room and through to the front door.

The sound of his voice singing in a slurry baritone disturbed the quiet of the late evening as he went.

"Give him a minute and then we leave. The others will not wait for us all night."

Ellie looked on as John poured a herbal brew from an ornate, silver teapot. Margaret sat silently opposite her.

"Thank you, John," the girl said with a brief smile. It still felt entirely abnormal to be waited on, but then her life was nothing but abnormal now.

The boy left them alone and Ellie tensed as she prepared herself for the conversation to come.

The arrival of Margaret so late had not been entirely unexpected, although at first she had been convinced the old woman had come to demand to know the whereabouts of her book, but Ellie quickly realised that this was not why she was there.

"I have been told that Helen and Grace are feeling somewhat tender," the elderly witch commented wryly.

"What was I supposed to do!?" Ellie responded, instantly defensive. "They attacked me!"

"Quite so. What were you supposed to do?" The woman's eyes were like glittering marbles, catching the light of the many candles that lit the room.

For a fleeting second Ellie had a sudden nostalgic longing for a good old electric light bulb. But there was no such thing in Witch Town. It was back to basics here. "She was trying to kill me," she added almost as an afterthought.

"She attempted to use Dismember I believe. A very unpleasant Word. Rather messy."

Ellie just stared back at her. "And what if I hadn't been able to stop her?"

"You would be dead." Margaret said this in a detached, matter-of-fact way.

"I can't believe this!" Ellie stormed, "you people are totally insane, you do know that don't you!?"

"Really? And yet you live. I never expected any other outcome."

"So you were just testing me?" the girl said with disgust. "Just a game, is that it?"

"No games," corrected the woman, "there is too much at stake for that. But yes, you must prove your worth. So what did you learn?"

"I don't know what you mean." Ellie felt very angry and didn't want to indulge the old woman, knowing this was yet another example of her attempts at manipulation.

"You used a Word of Power by instinct I presume. One you had not read in any book. Propel? Very well chosen. And you will see too that once an adversary is incapacitated any Word they have already spoken is negated. Fortunate you discovered this at a most opportune moment."

The girl absorbed this information and searched her mind, remembering how she had felt just after she had used the Word against the two women. "I liked it." Ellie spoke very quietly, her eyes cast downwards. She felt ashamed at even speaking this out loud, but she had to say it.

"Of course you did, my dear," Margaret told her soothingly. "It is power. And to master such power is exhilarating. But the key will always be control. You must be able to command your thoughts or another who is more adept will control you."

"So what now?"

The witch considered this question for a long time and took a sip of her tea. Eventually she answered and in her voice there was just a hint of something akin to longing or perhaps anticipation. "There is a task that needs to be performed. One for which you may be well suited. I believe you are proving yourself to be a formidable witch. One who can make this Coven proud."

"What kind of task?" Ellie wanted to know, a little anxious and yet intrigued.

"An undertaking beyond the boundaries of Witch Town."

Beth lay wide awake in her bed. She listened for the sound of footfalls in the corridor outside. It was only a matter of time before they would come for her.

She played the scene over and over in her mind. The way she had stabbed the syringe so violently into the woman's throat. The way the witch's eyes had seem to expand, far too big for her features. Then the way the woman had clawed at herself before she fell to the ground.

First a house maid, now a murderer! Her mind creaked under the weight of her actions. Beth knew that in some deep part of herself that she was struggling to hold onto her sense of reality and order. It was all too much.

She strained to listen, certain that somewhere distant she could hear the insistent sound of footsteps marching along the hallways of the Coven House, on their way to seize her and take her to be punished for her horrific crime.

She even sat up and tilted her head, trying to concentrate, sure there was something, a sound in the silence. But there was nothing. All was still and dark.

They would come sooner or later. For now, maybe no-one had discovered the body yet, but they would come.

Beth resolved to just remain as she was and laid her head back onto her pillow. She kept her eyes open staring at the ceiling.

She would wait all night and into the morning if necessary, knowing what must happen. Knowing that a murderer deserved no sympathy or mercy.

Five men were huddled inside the barn, a lone lantern the only illumination.

Daniel had performed his task well and they had been able to make their exit without being heard or seen. Now Zack found himself presented to this small group who eyed him with suspicion and trepidation.

"Why should we trust you?" asked a grey haired man gruffly before the boy could even get his eyes accustomed properly to the gloomy interior.

"Why should I trust you!" was Zack blunt response.

There was some low murmuring among them before the same man replied. "As good a answer as any other I suppose." But he seemed placated.

Jeremiah spoke urgently, his voice hushed. "Zack is as dissatisfied as we about the way things are. He is an outsider and is held here against his will. He has more reason than most to challenge the status quo."

Another of the men, a tall, bearded fellow interjected. "That is as may be. But his sister is one of the Black Coven now and a favourite of Margaret."

Zack felt his temper rising and when he spoke his voice was louder than it should have been. "Don't bring Ellie into this. She's doing what she has to. To survive. Isn't that what we're all doing? If you don't like how things are, why aren't you doing something about it?"

A smaller, younger man was the first to respond to this. "Haven't you noticed, the women are the powerful ones. We are only men."

The boy took a moment to take on the full impact of these words. Only men. Coming from his own background in the society he was brought up in, this seemed such an alien concept for him to grapple with. But in Witch Town he recognised that it was a fact.

"And," added the bearded man, "have you forgotten so soon what happened when you tried to take action against them? You may have killed one woman, but there are too many to fight them all."

Jeremiah stepped forward, making himself the centre of attention, his expression hard. "That is not the way," he stated with a conviction that demanded acceptance or conflict. "We do not advocate violence against the women. All we want is a fairer system."

The younger man sniffed derisively. "Nothing will change while we just stand idly by. And pacifism did not save Robert, did it? Ask your daughter? I'm sure she will put you straight on that!"

For a moment, Zack thought Jeremiah was going to lash out, his eyes narrowing with menace. But even though he took a step forward, he kept his fists clenched into tight balls. "This has nothing to do with her."

There was a palpable tension among them now and Zack was feeling confused by this turn of events. Jeremiah had a daughter? It was the first he had heard of it.

The grey haired man attempted to bring some order. "This is not about family allegiance, despite the fact that we men have very little say or influence when it comes to our offspring. This is about our role in Witch Town. The women rule because they speak the Words. We cannot change that."

Zack was getting frustrated. "But they need you, to do their work, don't they? Or could they just conjure up their vegetables and their milk and their bread. And then cook their food and make their clothes and everything else you do for them? Do they have Words for all of that!?"

The other men looked back at him, but no one said anything. Finally Jeremiah was the one to pass comment. "All of that may be true. But they do not value what we do. Have you even considered our history. Do you think we are all the product of inbreeding? James," he addressed the bearded man, "tell him what you remember."

All eyes were focused on the man named James as he began to speak. "All I know is I was not born in Witch Town. I remember something before coming here. I was very young, but I remember. A woman in a white dress. She loved me I think. The memory has become hazy, but I know it was real. They took me away and brought me here. They took me away from my mother. And I hate them for it."

"You see," Jeremiah addressed Zack, "The women take what they need. They have taken you and your friend. They don't need to waste their Words on these things. They have us and we serve them."

"But you are married to them. You have children with them. Doesn't that mean you have feelings?"

There were a few harsh chuckles among them and the grey haired man replied with some venom. "They use us. It's no different than mating a mare with a stallion. To propagate and continue. It's just a necessity. And as for our children, do not delude yourself. They are soon taught to know what their fathers are. Husbands are no more than that. There are Mothers and there are husbands. No fathers for the children of Witch Town."

Zack felt stung by this. It seemed so horrible, more so when he considered his blossoming attachment to Leonie. "So you don't have any relationship with them at all. Not even your children? None at all!?"

Jeremiah's voice was subdued when he answered. "Sometimes we try," he voiced softly. "but it is very difficult to break the conditioning of childhood."

"But your daughter," the boy persisted, "doesn't she see you, spend time with you?" He couldn't believe that these men did not share any connection with their own flesh and blood.

With great intensity Jeremiah looked back at him and there was something so deeply felt in his eyes that Zack could barely meet his gaze. "You should know better than I. You are closer to my daughter than I will ever be. Leonie chooses her own path does she not?"

22

I'm going to get out of here. Really? There's got to be a catch. But of course I know they won't let me go alone and Zack and the others won't get to tag along. But I must be able to find a way of getting help. Mum will have called the police by now. They'll be looking for us. It will be all over the TV. I just need to play along. But what will I say if I do find some way to get help. Hello I've just come from Witch Town. It's somewhere in the woods and it's hidden by magic. And oh yes, I'm one of the witches!

There was an insistent rapping at the door.

With a start Beth came awake. For a second she was confused about where she was, then it came back to her. Memory kicked in and the reality of her situation came crashing down upon her.

How could she have fallen asleep? With everything that had happened? Apparently her body had overridden her mind and exhaustion had taken control.

The knocking continued. Why didn't they just come in?

Beth pushed herself up onto her elbows and stared at the door. "Who is it?" she ventured, her voice somewhat muted.

"Open the door," came a voice. A male voice.

The girl shifted herself on the bed and slid her body over to sit on the side. She felt disorientated. "Who is it!?" she repeated, this time a little more clearly.

"It's Joshua," came the clipped response, "will you open the door."

"It's not locked. Come in." Beth hadn't undressed the night before so she still wore her work clothes, although of course they were rather creased and dishevelled.

Tentatively the door was pushed open and Joshua stuck his head inside. He appeared nervous and agitated. "I wasn't sure if you would be dressed." He said this with a frown, his eyes moving from her to the ground and then back to Beth again.

Confusion was making it difficult for Beth to focus properly. "What do you want?" she asked with exasperation. Why was he there? Where were the witches who should have come to take her away by now?

"What do you mean?" the boy shot back, "I want you to start work. Why are you still here? You're late!"

"Late?" Beth managed to mimic.

"Is there something wrong with you?" he questioned, now staring at her intently. "You should have started work an hour ago. You're lucky no-one else has noticed other than me."

Beth just could not make sense of what was going on. "Hasn't anything happened?" she queried anxiously.

"Happened!? What are you talking about? The only thing that has happened is that you aren't doing your work. And I'm saving you a lot of trouble by coming here when really I should just report you."

"Nothing," breathed the girl, "Nothing at all?"

Joshua was becoming infuriated. "What were you hoping for? A day off!? We don't get any time off here. Every day is a work day."

She just gazed at him, her mind trying to function, but refusing to work properly. "So why didn't you? Report me I mean?"

Now the boy looked very uncomfortable and his eyes darted about everywhere but at her. "I...I just wanted to check in case you were ill. Are you!?"

Beth almost laughed then as she realised the boy actually liked her.

Joshua fancied her. Wasn't that just the craziest thing of all. She couldn't believe it. It was all so ridiculous. Had she just dreamed she had killed a witch the night before? She tested her memory and knew immediately it had been all too real. Any notions of good humour vanished. "I'm okay," she managed distractedly.

"Good," the boy said, "so come on then, before anyone realises you're not where you're supposed to be."

With some reluctance, Beth stood. She felt light headed for several moments before gaining complete control of herself.

Surely it was not possible that they still hadn't discovered the body?

Joshua held the door open and waited for her to pass through. Beth couldn't see what other option she had but to go with him. "You can help clean the meeting rooms," he told her as she exited her room and stepped into the hallway.

Beth didn't answer. She just followed where he led, her brain trying desperately to fathom what was going on. That witch would have been missed by now. They would be searching for her at the very least. What was going on?

As always, things in Witch Town did not add up. And Beth was beginning to think that it was all some kind of bizarre game. And she was just a pawn to be manoeuvred at the whim of whoever made the rules.

Extracts from the journal of Rebecca Marsh

April 19th 1613

Already my agents have sought out others who may be suitable to join me. These so called witches are wary, but recognise in me a patron and one who can protect them from those who might persecute them. More than this, once I demonstrate to them my own power, they revere me and wish to learn. And I am happy to instruct them. These women, some young, some aged will be part of a great movement. One which I will lead. Allison assists me and I come to depend on her as my good right hand. In time, this land will know us and we will show them the way forward.

June 5th 1613

Loose tongues have brought forth prying eyes and I have to take action to protect my ever growing community. I have purchased a 5000 acre plot of wooded land and intend to build my own township there. I realise that I must become independent of society if I am to lead my followers and develop their abilities. I have more than a dozen women with me now. Their grasp of the Words varies, although none have been able to master the power of the amulet as I have, although Allison can almost match my ability now, but she is my loyal devotee and assists with keeping the others in their place.

September 9th 1613

Construction continues on my township. Because of my wealth and the social standing held by my family, I answer to very few so this enables me to go about my business with little interruption. I avoid contact with my peers and spend most of my time in my country home not many miles distant from the work site. My Sisters, as I have named them, are learning the etiquette of society as well as developing their understanding of the Words. I have also discovered through my dealings with these women, that none below the age of sixteen are able to channel their power through the SpiritHeart. And what is more, there are clearly defined levels of proficiency. I, naturally, have the greatest skill, while the others vary. I will devise a structure for these differences in ability. A set of laws of instruction must be composed for all to subscribe to. I will set about this task directly.

December 14th 1613

I have found myself more and more curious concerning the origin of the stone my father brought back with him from Central America. I have dispatched one of my agents to travel there to seek out whatever specifics he is able to discover. I await his report.

April 15th 1614

The work nears completion. Very soon now my sisters and I will be able to begin our new lives. There are those who make accusation against any who they suspect of sorcery. I, on the other hand, take those who seem best suited to my needs and give them safe haven. Already I am formulating my regime for this new Township and I have given it a name, both ironic and most apt. Witch Town it shall be called henceforth. And I shall be guardian and governess of my own small kingdom.

Luke was sullen when he reported for work the next morning and it took Zack a while to figure out how to approach him concerning his meeting from the night before.

"What's your problem!?" was what he decided upon after much deliberation.

The other boy kicked at some straw as he tossed grain out for a gang of excitable chickens. "Take a guess," he muttered.

Zack considered his friend. "Being married to my sister that bad is it?"

With a grimace Luke eyed him suspiciously. "Why the jokes all of a sudden?"

Now Zack knew he had to tread more carefully and he came a little nearer. As ever, Leonie and Allana were close by. Zack hadn't been able to find an opportunity to speak with Leonie this morning, only managing a few fleeting looks where their eyes had met and just once when they had exchanged a furtive smile. "I went on a little adventure last night," he murmured, although the sound of the chickens was effectively covering his words.

This got Luke's attention. "What kind of adventure?" he asked, throwing a brief look in the direction of the two young witches.

Zack flung some more grain about and the chickens gathered around his feet making quite a commotion. "Some of the men here are less than happy with the social status."

Luke frowned as he thought this over. "Why didn't you take me with you?"

His friend had expected this question and had already prepared his answer. "Less risk. In case we got caught."

With an expression that said he was unconvinced, Luke nonetheless let it pass. "So what did they say?"

"They want to do something. They're just not sure what." He moved among the clucking poultry. "And obviously they're afraid of the women."

"That I can appreciate," the smaller boy stated with a sour look.

Zack toyed with the idea of telling him about Leonie being Jeremiah's daughter, but then decided it wasn't really relevant. He also knew that he would have to admit what had happened between himself and the girl, but now didn't seem like a good time, if ever there would be one. "So we need to do some thinking. How can we use this?" Luke arched a questioning eyebrow. "To help us get out of this place?" Zack clarified.

Ellie wasn't sure what she should do. If she told Luke that she was going to get an opportunity to leave Witch Town, how would he respond? He had been so distant since their marriage. This gave her some pause as she realised what she was thinking. Marriage! If this was being married, then she was more than happy to be single. But she knew full well that her situation regarding Luke was nothing more than going through the motions.

Of course she completely understood how uncomfortable Luke was feeling, but really, did he have to be so morose and uncommunicative? She was doing her best not to make him feel too ill at ease, but every time she went anywhere near him he took on the look of a frightened rabbit, all wide eyes and nervous twitching.

It was almost impossible for her to talk to Zack and even if she did he was always in the company of that young witch from the Green Coven. Once her brother's work for the day was over Ellie was forbidden to go to the house he was staying in. Yet another one of the town laws.

As for Beth, Ellie despaired. She hadn't laid eyes on her friend for so long it was as if she didn't even exist anymore. Ellie had attempted a number of times to ask about her welfare and even requested seeing her, but the answer was always a categorical no. Apparently the servants of the White Coven were nothing to do with the Blacks. Coven rules were sacrosanct.

So what was she to do? It was Luke or no-one. Ellie would have to speak to him and make him understand what was actually going on.

She had even noticed that he seemed apprehensive around her, more so than just because he felt embarrassed about their new relationship. She hated to believe it, but it felt like he didn't really trust her anymore.

And what about when she was actually beyond the borders of Witch Town? What then? Ellie was experiencing both excitement and foreboding. Whatever Margaret had in mind for her, it could very well prove to be dangerous. And she knew that whoever accompanied her would be watching her very carefully.

23

The more I read of Rebecca's journal, the more I see that this town was her baby. She financed it, she made the rules. What I don't get, is where did her power really come from? Is it in us already, just waiting to come out? That's the way I see it. Or is it in this weird Central American stone that we all wear? Maybe I will find out when I've read some more, although I'm getting scared of keeping it for too long. A lot of it is pretty boring to be honest. Lots of rambling about new bonnets and the colour of the drapes in her new houses. Picking out the good stuff is harder than I expected. But I will have to put it back before I leave. I can't risk Margaret finding out it's gone while I'm away. There's no telling what she might do. I just wish I could have a proper talk with Zack about it. I need him more than ever right now.

Beth went about her work in a daze. Everything seemed just like the day before and the one before that. The boys carried on with their routine of cleaning and cooking. The witches came and went, all busy with their life of reading, contemplation and intense conversation. Beth wondered aimlessly why they did not get bored. It seemed mind numbing to her. But then, should she forget, it was rather more appealing than her life of constant domesticity.

Why had no-one found her yet?

As time passed and her nerves became more and more frazzled, she began to imagine that they were all toying with her, playing a cruel joke, just waiting for her to crack and confess to her crime.

But nobody even glanced her way. She was as invisible as ever.

There was nothing for it. She would have to go back and look. She couldn't stand it any longer. Taking her mop and bucket she moved cautiously through the Coven hallways, keeping her head down, making no eye contact.

When she arrived outside the door of Abigail's room her breathing had become rapid and her heart hammered in her chest. She stood there, indecisive, afraid that they were waiting for her inside. But she also knew she would not be able to continue without knowing for sure. The body had to be still there, sprawled on the floor. It had to be.

She opened the door slowly, peering inside before it was fully open.

Where the witch's corpse should have been there was only empty space.

She went quickly inside, pushing the door closed behind her. She still carried her mop and bucket and they clattered together in the eerie silence. Beth glanced down at them with a scowl, as if they would give her away. But the room was quite empty.

There was no sign of what she knew had occurred, no smears of blood, nothing to show that the woman's body had ever been there. Beth just stood still and stared at the place where she had left the woman's motionless form.

She tried to think rationally, evaluating all of the possibilities. Could she have still been alive? Beth played the scene over one more time in her head. She had checked carefully. The witch had been dead.

But had she really taken the time to be certain? She had been in a panic. She had certainly been in shock. Maybe she had been mistaken and she hadn't actually been dead.

But that made no sense at all.

If that was true they would have come to take her away long before now. It just didn't add up.

The girl tried her best to keep her thoughts in order. There had to be some indication that it had all taken place as she remembered. Beth scanned the room, searching for something, anything.

Her eyes came to rest on the bureau.

Taking a hesitant step towards it, Beth faltered, now reluctant to open the drawer and look inside. Part of her was very afraid that the syringe would be sitting there undisturbed and that would mean she was truly losing her mind.

She reached out a hand and gently pulled open the small drawer, her eyes wide with dread.

It was empty. No syringe. Nothing.

With an audible intake of breath, she slammed it shut. The relief she felt was overwhelming.

But what did it mean?

Beth needed to get out of there, she knew that much. Turning, she took two steps towards the door when she saw the handle begin to turn.

There was nowhere to hide. Beth froze.

As the door opened she had a sense of déjà-vu and she really expected the witch to enter as before and the events of yesterday to repeat again.

But it was not as before. This time Abigail came through the door and smoothly shut it behind her. She stood just within and her eyes were intent on Beth.

"If I were you," she spoke softly, "I would refrain from any more acts of violence. I will not be quite so easy to subdue."

Extracts from the journal of Rebecca Marsh

January 4th 1615

I had almost given up hope of ever hearing from my agent sent to Central America. But finally he has reported to me and relates his inquiries in Mexico and Honduras. He was able to solicit the aid of the Spanish and using the generous funds I had furnished him with he was provided a guide to accompany him on his travels. His communication has left me mystified as he relates conversations with members of an indigenous tribe he names as Mayans. They tell of a magical stone that I believe is the very same as the one returned with my father. Although the stories sent to me by my representative are somewhat incoherent, there are enough details within to lead me to hypothesise that this sacred artefact was somehow stolen by my father; how I do not know. But the high priests of these primitive people are apparently intent on discovering its whereabouts. My agent was able to elicit only the most rudimentary facts concerning its history and even those are wholly fantastic, with talk of star people and human sacrifice. I realise that I should be the first to be open minded when considering the unearthly, but these tales defy even my imagination. I will await further contact and hope to hear more of these strange matters.

June 27th 1615

I have received most disturbing news concerning my agent in the Americas. It seems he has been murdered. The report has come to me via the Spanish and only found its way back to me because of some connections my family have within the King's court. Although the details are imprecise, my feeling is that he was slaughtered by these Mayans natives. Although I have of course pleaded ignorant of all knowledge as to why this may have occurred, I know without question it was because of his enquiries about the stone, the very same that now resides in my own vault.

"We can't do this," Leonie told him as he held her tightly against him.

They were in the shadows of a small copse of trees, the moonlight waning around them.

Zack looked down at her and saw a tear creep out of the side of her eye. "What else can we do?" he asked simply.

"If we are caught I fear for us both. They will not tolerate such a transgression."

The boy pulled her even closer and kissed the top of her head. "Then we will have to make sure we don't get caught."

She pushed him away just a little, her expression fierce and Zack couldn't help but smile. She was undeniably beautiful. "This is nothing to be amused by," she rebuked him. "Already Allana is asking me questions. Why I am so distracted. She is not one to look the other way if the laws are being broken."

Now the boy's face was deadly serious. "And what about your father?"

Leonie glared at him and pulled completely out of his embrace. "What are you talking about!?"

"I think Jeremiah wishes you were closer. He might be able to help."

There was real fire in the girl's eyes now. "You understand nothing of the ways of Witch Town. There are no fathers. My Mother, Abigail of the White Coven, is the only parent I have."

"So why didn't you join the Whites when you had the chance then? Why did you choose the Greens?" Zack watched her closely as he waited for her to reply and saw conflicting emotions pass rapidly across her features. Pride, hurt, even rebellion.

"I wanted to make my own way," she said at length.

Zack reached out then and drew her to him, kissing her mouth with soft intensity. Leonie did not resist. "I'm sorry," he began in a low voice, "I didn't mean to upset you. I just don't get this place or the way people are here. It makes no sense to me."

Leonie nestled in close to his chest. "How could you? Your world must be very different."

"It is," he conceded, "Very. But what I don't understand is why you're willing to break away from your laws. Don't get me wrong," he said this quickly finding her green eyes and looking intently into them. "I'm very happy that you are, but I thought all of the women here were brainwashed or something."

The girl held his gaze. "I changed my mind about a lot of things when they killed Robert."

For a few moments, Zack considered this. "Did you know? What he was doing?"

"I had my suspicions," she conceded, "and I said nothing. That was my greatest sin. I might have saved him if I had spoken out."

"Or just got him killed even sooner," countered Zack.

Leonie's expression revealed regret and guilt in even measures. "Whatever the case, I did nothing and he is dead. And I know what they did and I know who was responsible."

"You blame your mother?" the boy asked, trying to read between the lines.

"It was her. She was all too eager to punish him. Knowing it would also punish me."

"But you didn't love him?" As soon as Zack had spoken the words he felt ashamed. He knew he was just looking for some reassurance and also knew full well that this was not the right way or the right time to do it.

Standing on tiptoe, Leonie kissed him firmly. "No," she whispered close to his ear, her breath warm, sending a tingle through his entire body.

Zack felt a tide of passion building within him and he knew that something more than kissing would happen if they remained there much longer. And it wasn't that he didn't want that. But somehow it just seemed wrong. At least while things were as they were. "We should go," he said hoarsely and then spent the rest of the walk back thinking what a complete idiot he was.

Beth raised the mop, ready to use it as a weapon.

The witch just gave a sardonic smile. "There is no need for that."

"Where is she!?" the girl challenged, still holding out the mop threateningly.

"My Sister is dead, as you well know. I had to manufacture a plausible tale to account for her absence."

The mop wavered a little. "But why?"

Abigail appeared very relaxed, but then why shouldn't she be. One word and Beth would be incapacitated or worse. "I will not insult you by saying there is so much you do not know." She gave a quiet chuckle, "oh there, I have said it."

Now Beth did take a step forward, surprising herself and she pointed the mop at the woman. "Don't mock me! I killed her, didn't I? Don't you even care? What is going on in this place!?"

All show of good humour was gone as the witch regarded her. Now she had a calculating look on her face. "Care?" she mused, "no not really. You have no understanding of the nature of our Covens. We are at war you see. But not a war that can be measured by casualties. Your own act is most unusual. We rarely lose one of our own in this way. But every dark cloud may have a ray of sunshine peeping through."

"I don't know what you're talking about and I don't want to know!" shouted Beth, her nerves raw, her eyes beginning to sting with tears that she was determined she would not shed.

"But do you have a choice?" Abigail asked her coldly. "I do not think so. I could take you now and accuse you of whatever crime I choose. I could make your life far more unpleasant than it is at present. Far more. Do you want that? I doubt it very much."

"What do you want?" Beth wasn't stupid. She knew there had to be a reason for all of this.

A flicker of a smile twisted the woman's lips and Beth saw that she was no more than a monster in female guise. The witch enjoyed her power games and the control she had over others. "Yes, of course, there is something." she stared directly at Beth and almost without realising it, the girl lowered her makeshift weapon and waited for whatever was to come with passive acceptance. She was so tired. So weary of it all. "I will make a bargain with you," Abigail continued, "I will keep your secret, but in return I need you to find out one for me. Now, that is a very small price to pay for murder, don't you think?"

Luke shuffled from one foot to the other, but he maintained eye contact. This was an improvement at least.

Ellie framed the best way to discuss what she needed to in her mind and settled on what she believed was the best approach. "They've asked me to do something," she started, "the Black Coven I mean." The boy didn't comment, only stood there listening, his face blank. "I don't know what they have in mind, but it must be something they think I can help them with." She looked at him, searching his eyes for some small show of friendship or support. But there was nothing. Luke returned her gaze, but he was withdrawn and his expression noncommittal. "The thing is," Ellie went on, "they want me to do something outside of here. That means I will get outside, at least for a while." She paused and checked that the door of the dining room was securely closed. For all she knew the boys who worked in her house may very well be Margaret's spies. Or for that matter, spies for any of the Covens.

"So why are you telling me this?" Luke finally spoke up. His tone was one of distinct mistrust.

She almost shouted at him, but just barely kept herself in check. "Because I need advice. I need Zack...and you to help me. I don't know what to do."

Luke regarded her for several moments, his features still revealing nothing. "Are you going to get help?" He asked this with just the tiniest trace of optimism.

Ellie seized on even this small sign that the boy still believed there was hope. "Yes, of course. If I can. What do you think I should do? They will be watching me the whole time and I don't even know where we're going yet."

"Can you use, you know, those Words? Could you get away from them? Get to the police or something?" Luke was trying not to sound desperate, but there was an unmistakable quality in his voice that said how much he wanted it to be true.

"I can try," the girl told him, "but if it goes wrong they will probably kill me. These women are playing for keeps."

Luke's smile was not a pleasant one. "These women?" he repeated, "but aren't you one of them now?"

Anger flared suddenly within Ellie's chest, a hot, tight sensation that demanded release. "I didn't ask to come here," she said frostily, maintaining control at least for the moment. "None of us did. And I didn't ask to have this...power, whatever it is." she clutched her amulet and held it out from her chest towards him. "I didn't ask for this, remember. I'm having to make the best of this, just like you are. And Zack and Beth. If we don't stick together, who have we got?"

"But that's it," Luke fired back, his own pent up fury threatening to explode. "We're not together, are we? For all I know, Beth might be dead. Have you seen her!? I haven't! And it's driving me crazy! Do you know how many times I've made up my mind to just force my way into the damn house and find her, how many times I've had to stop myself from doing whatever it takes to get to her. No, you don't, because it doesn't matter to you. You're quite happy here, learning your magic powers, learning how to be a witch! So, if you are really going to do something to get us out of here, just get on with it and do it. Maybe then I might believe you're still the Ellie I thought I knew."

His face flushed, he turned and stalked off and out into the entrance hall, the sound of his footfalls on the stairs fading as he retreated to his room.

For what seemed a very long time, Ellie just stood there. She tried to think about what Luke had just said, but she found it almost impossible. His words stung her. She felt bruised and battered. Her heart ached.

How had it come to this? It was a nightmare, an unholy dream and she could not wake up from it. But in the end, she would have to do what she believed was for the best. There was no-one else to take her place. It was down to her and she would not shirk her responsibility. However much she might wish she could.

24

Even my friends don't know me anymore. Do I even know myself? I'm Ellie, the girl who prides herself on being unconventional. But being different never made me happy, did it? No-one likes you if you don't fit in, wear the right clothes, say the right things. It's just the same here as it ever was. Same shit, different shovel. I want to get out of here, really I do. But I can't change the fact that I'm not the same anymore. Whatever happens, this Ellie is someone new. And whichever world I live in, they will know. They will know because I will show them. No more being treated like a freak and having to grin and bear it. From now on, this freak will fight back.

When Luke told Zack about his conversation with Ellie, the other boy was less than impressed.

"That wasn't fair of you," he said sternly, "what do you expect her to do? I don't see you doing much yourself."

The other boy sneered at this. "Maybe you like it here too. Maybe that's the problem."

Zack eyed his friend with a scowl. "Just maybe," he warned, "you should get a grip on yourself and stop acting like a moron!"

They were supposed to be carrying milk churns from a storage barn to the Blue Coven House, a distance of perhaps half a mile or so. But now Luke put his own down unceremoniously and it nearly toppled over. "So you think your sister can still be trusted, even though she's one of them now? Well, I don't. And you're a fool if you can't see that."

Zack was getting increasingly irritated by the other boy's attitude and he also put his churn down beside him, although he took a good deal more care about it. "So what makes you such an expert on my sister!? Oh yes, I forgot, you're married to her aren't you? That must give you some tremendous insight into what she's thinking and feeling. Far more than me obviously."

His face red with sweat and grime, Luke poked a finger in Zack's direction. "You can't even see the obvious when it's right under your nose! And being married to your sister is not my idea of a good time!"

Zack shoved his hands into his pockets, because he knew if he didn't there was a very good chance he would throttle the other boy. But Luke didn't take the hint and moved in closer, his eyes blazing. "Just back off will you," Zack cautioned him.

"Or what!?" Luke taunted him.

Zack couldn't help himself. His hands shot out of his pockets and he had clenched them into fists when finally Leonie came into view. "I think I've heard enough," she told them firmly.

Luke turned and glowered at her. "We're in the middle of something here!"

"Yes," the girl said, "and it's been most entertaining. But now can you get back to your work."

Zack was happy to assent and hauled up his milk churn, but Luke was far less inclined to comply. "I'm sick of this!" he announced with some venom.

"Just do it," Zack told him, but his friend was in no mood to listen.

"So what are you going to do if I don't?" he asked the witch with scorn, "zap me with one of your Words? What will it be this time? Stop!? Go!? Sit down, stand up, do a dance!?"

"Give it a rest, Luke," the other boy advised him, knowing that this was all getting out of hand.

Leonie looked from Luke to Zack and then over her shoulder to where Allana was watching the scene unfold from perhaps twenty yards away. "What good will this do you?" she asked, her voice mild.

"I don't really care," fired back Luke, "I've just had it up to here with all of this rubbish. So, you can do what you like." With this he put his boot against the churn and with deliberate care pushed it over. The lid came off and milk began to stain the ground.

Immediately Zack put his own churn down and moved to confront the boy. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" he demanded, their faces now only inches apart.

"No use crying over spilt milk!" Luke snarled with supreme sarcasm.

Zack had heard enough and he pushed out at his friend with two open palms, knocking him backwards. "You are being a complete tosser!"

"Please Zack," came Leonie's voice, "stay out of this."

But Zack was incensed and he went to push him again, but this time Luke moved sideways and in one quick motion shot a punch at the taller boy's face. It made solid contact and blood began to spout from Zack's lip.

"No!" It was Leonie's voice and she came running over to his side, taking a handkerchief from her pocket and placing it gently against his injured mouth.

Zack just stared in disbelief at Luke, who now also had a startled, 'did I really do that' expression.

Leonie was attending to Zack's wound and was dabbing at the blood on his face when she reached up with her other hand to stroke his cheek affectionately without even thinking about it. "Are you alright?" she asked softly, "how bad is it?"

Zack looked down at her and attempted a smile, but could only grimace. "I'll live."

It was only then that he let his gaze move to where Allana had come to stand beside Luke. Both were staring at them. Luke's features conveyed embarrassment and worse, disappointment. But the expression the witch wore was far more disturbing. She watched them with shrewd calculation, her eyes narrowed with the weight of judgement.

Ellie had kept the journal for too long and she knew it. Although she had finished reading it in its entirety, she had really wanted to go over it in more detail, but the growing sense of anxiety that Margaret would discover that it was missing was getting too much for her. And now that she was going to leave Witch Town that fear had become overwhelming.

The most frustrating thing of all was that she wanted to better understand Rebecca and what had really happened as she literally built her township from the ground up, populating it and training its inhabitants.

She had skimmed the parts of the manuscript concerning bringing men in from the outside, first as employees, then as what were to all intents and purposes prisoners. But there was little to indicate how or why Rebecca met her end. The last few entries merely mentioned some cryptic references to some kind of anomaly that had concerned her. Also she recorded an altercation with the brother of one of her protégés that had apparently disturbed her greatly but she did not elaborate on why.

Obviously it was impossible to know what really went on as it was all written from Rebecca's biased perspective.

But now Ellie had to put the journal back where she had found it. Maybe she would have a chance to study it more carefully sometime in the future. She caught herself thinking this and felt both ashamed and unnerved. This is not my life, she rebuked herself harshly.

Concealing the journal within a stack of other books, she carried them casually along one of the hallways of the Black Coven House, making her way towards Margaret's room. Hesitating outside the door, she eventually gave a loud rap and waited.

No response.

She knocked again, louder. Still nothing.

It was as she had hoped. The witch was out on other business. Ellie let herself in and surveyed the interior of the room. It was very quiet. Silent like the grave she mused. She shook herself out of this morbidity, as this was not exactly the kind of image she wanted to envision when she already felt so on edge.

There was no time for thinking about such things. She needed to get on with it and then get out of there fast.

Ellie put down her stack of books on a side table and slid out Rebecca's journal. The odd binding once again made her feel a little queasy. A number of times while she had been reading it she had needed to put it down for a while, as it made her uneasy just touching it. Resisting this sensation, Ellie went to work.

"Reveal," she spoke and the stone amulet began to shimmer with her inner essence.

As before the panel in the wall opened smoothly and the girl went quickly to it, intent on replacing the manuscript.

But she was stopped in her tracks, her hand frozen in the act of replacing the book.

There was an envelope. And it had her name written on it.

Ellie didn't move and absently she looked over her shoulder as if expecting Margaret to be standing there watching her. But the room was empty.

What was this?

She placed the journal under her arm and very tentatively picked up the envelope. She was almost afraid that it was some kind of trap, but nothing happened. Ellie tore it open and took out a single sheet of paper. On it these words were written:

Thank you for returning my book. But please understand that if you ever take something of mine again without my permission I will not hesitate in killing you.

P.S. I trust you now feel even closer to Rebecca having actually touched her skin. The binding keeps our esteemed Mother's memory alive don't you think?

The girl gaped at the paper in shock. She hardly knew what to do, but she couldn't stand there like a fool and do nothing. She stared at the journal in disgust. Human skin as a binding for a book! That was nothing short of sickening and she had been touching it. She felt bile threaten to rise in her throat and barely suppressed it.

But she still had to put the thing back. So taking it between thumb and forefinger, her face twisted with revulsion, she hurriedly tossed it back inside the compartment.

Ellie stepped away still clutching Margaret's note.

"Conceal," she uttered without really thinking about what she was doing.

Did this change anything? She wasn't sure. If the witch had wanted to punish her, she already would have. No, Margaret had need of her, at least for the time being.

Leonie and Allana were deep in conversation, but well out of earshot from the two boys.

Zack and Luke stood together in silence watching as the girls spoke animatedly, their gestures expressive even if their words were lost on them.

Zack still nursed his mouth. He glanced at the other boy and nodded. "This could mean serious trouble."

Luke didn't look at him. "Isn't that all our lives are now?"

His friend couldn't really argue the point. "That was a good punch," he mused dryly.

With a fleeting smile Luke finally did turn towards him. "You had it coming."

"Really!?" countered Zack and winced a little.

"Okay," the smaller boy allowed, "maybe I got a bit carried away. But now I see what you've been up to with..." he nodded towards Leonie, "maybe I should hit you again!"

"I haven't been up to anything."

"Oh yes, I'm sure you haven't." Luke rolled his eyes, unconvinced.

"It's not like that," Zack insisted becoming very serious, "She isn't like the others."

Luke 's brow furrowed and he appeared far older than his eighteen years in that moment. "We had better hope you're right."

The discourse between the two witches had become quieter and calmer now and there seemed to be a consensus between them. Finally Leonie made her way back towards the boys, her expression hard to read.

"Luke," she spoke evenly, "would you join Allana please?"

For a few seconds Luke made no response, but then he gave a unexpected grin. "Fair enough," he said and strode off towards the blonde girl without even a glance back at the other boy.

Zack's eyes were focused on Leonie. He was very afraid. But not because their feelings had been revealed to Allana, but because he couldn't bear the thought of losing her. His pulse raced and he felt dread lurking in his mind. "What did you say?" he asked at last.

Leonie's face was very grave. "I had to lie," she whispered. The boy just listened, his fears mounting. "I had to tell her that I had been given an undertaking by my Coven, a covert task."

"To do what?" Zack questioned, confused.

"To seduce you." Leonie's shame was evident. She lowered her eyes, unable to hold his gaze.

"But why?" was all he could find to say.

She looked into his eyes again with unchecked sorrow. "My honour," she said very softly, "is forfeit. I have no husband, therefore I can be used." Leonie paused as emotion choked her voice. "Used in any way that benefits my Coven. I told Allana that I have been charged with gathering intelligence from you. And I am using my favours as the instrument to gain your confidence."

Zack just stared at her. "Oh," he uttered.

"It was the only way I could stop her from reporting us." She looked at him carefully, trying to read his expression.

"Did she believe you?" he asked her in a flat, emotionless tone.

Leonie had a tear creeping down across her cheek now. "Yes."

Zack was struggling to know what to say. "I suppose that's good then."

The girl didn't respond, but she wiped away her tears with her hand and then turned to look over at Allana and Luke. She gave a small gesture towards the other witch and they both came to join them.

"Please retrieve your churn and go back to refill it," the blonde haired girl instructed Luke brusquely.

He gave her a challenging glare, but went and picked it up nonetheless.

"Let us finish the task we have begun," Leonie spoke to Zack, all business now, indicating his own milk churn on the ground beside him.

The boy held her gaze only for a brief moment and then hefted it up and began to walk. There was an uneasy silence among both couples as they went their separate ways.

25

Who would bind a book in human skin!?Is that sick or what!? Margaret just gets creepier the more I find out about her. It always feels like she's playing games with me. But maybe it's time I played this game my own way. I don't have to stick to her rules. I don't care about their stupid history and their precious heritage. I will break every one of their crazy laws if it means I can escape from this place and then help my friends. The only thing I'm really scared of is finding that I don't actually have any friends left.

Ellie was in the library of her house. Her house. It seemed surreal, but for now at least that was the way it was. She was waiting to be summoned by Margaret for some kind of briefing on this mysterious mission she had been earmarked for.

There was gentle rapping on the door and Ellie shifted her attention from the line of books she had been perusing. "Hello!" she called.

The door opened and John deferentially stepped inside. "Ma'am," he began with courteous professionalism, all the more disconcerting because he must have been all of ten years old. "You have a visitor."

The girl became immediately uneasy. "Who is it?" she enquired, trying to keep the edge she felt out of her voice.

John remained composed and self-possessed. "She says she is a friend of yours. But she is a maid, Ma'am. From the White Coven. Most irregular."

Ellie processed what he had just said and then slowly at first, but becoming more pronounced, a smile began to bloom on her face. "Beth?" she said, already moving.

By the time she had reached the doorway and passed by John, she was running. When she came into the entrance hall she had to skid to a halt as she saw her friend standing awkwardly in the foyer. "Beth!" she cried out and rushed to greet her, throwing her arms around the girl and hugging her. Tears were streaming down Ellie's face while Beth held onto her just as hard.

"I've missed you," Ellie told her, half laughing, half sobbing. "Are you okay? What's been happening to you!?" She stepped back a little to appraise the other girl. "How are you? Tell me. I've been so worried."

Beth gazed back at her and there were tears in her eyes too. "I'm okay I suppose," she managed, "if you can call being a damn servant okay. Basically, they treat me like a slave so it's pretty bad. But I haven't been tortured or anything!"

Ellie took hold of her hands and squeezed them tightly. "I'm so happy to see you. Things have been horrible. Did you hear about me and Luke?"

The other girl stared at her blankly. "What about you and Luke?"

Her face reddening, Ellie tried to think how she could explain, but decided there was no time for soft pedalling. "We got married," she announced with a certain amount of theatricality. With her friend there she could finally see the real humour in the situation and she needed the release of laughter and fun. Everything had been so deadly serious recently and she longed for the camaraderie of friendship.

"Married?" repeated Beth incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Ellie began to giggle. "No, seriously. We are. Well, not really. But then, we are in Witch Town and it's their law. So, I suppose, we kind of are. Sort of."

The both began to laugh then and some of the pent up tension they were both feeling receded for a moment.

"And what about Zack?" Beth asked and there was a change in her tone, something that was not lost on the other girl.

"I don't really know, I mean, he's okay, but I haven't been able to talk to him for ages. He's always with one of the Greens. They're inseparable!" She meant it as a joke, but immediately realised it had been poorly chosen as Beth's expression soured. "Come on," she said, trying to break the mood, "let's sit and have a drink together and talk properly." Beth didn't argue and followed where she was led. "How come you are even here?" Ellie queried as they walked towards the kitchen, "are the Whites going to come looking for you?"

Beth was behind the other girl so Ellie couldn't see her face, but if she had she would have seen a look of despair and sadness there. "No, it's okay," she replied, "I was given permission. Abigail wanted me to come."

Isobel of the Red Coven sat in a high backed chair in a substantial room she liked to think of as her office. It was impressive in an ostentatious way, with sumptuous furnishings, many exotic ornaments and of course, the obligatory paintings that every witch in the township possessed. They were considered a status symbol in their small society and Isobel had more than most.

She had been listening to a report, but the level three witch before her was proving to be a great disappointment as her information was flimsy at best.

"And that is all you know?" Isobel asked, her eyes fixed upon the woman.

The other witch was older, but regarded her superior with fretful anxiety. "We have them under observation, but as you know, it impossible to watch them at all times."

"As I know," parroted Isobel. "This is what I know, Miriam, you were given a task and I am not interested in excuses. It is imperative that the Red Coven have a complete overview of what is happening in Witch Town. If we do not, the others will leave us in their wake. Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not," Miriam assured her. "We are doing everything we can. Our informants have been advised that these matters are of the highest priority."

Isobel merely stared at her, her mind methodically working through all of her possible options. "Something is happening," she stated at last. "Something that will change things for us all. And know this, our Coven will not be left behind, while others enjoy the spoils of victory."

Miriam nodded her concurrence. "I understand."

"But do you?" Isobel questioned with an unexpectedly sweet smile, one that seemed incongruous in tandem with her lizard-like eyes.

The other witch became visibly uneasy and shifted in her chair, almost as if she was considering making a hasty exit. "I promise you, Isobel, that I shall redouble my efforts."

The head of the Red Coven nodded very slightly. "Of course you will. But do not disappoint me any further. Remember there are always others who hope to take your place, as there are others who hope to take mine." She paused for effect. "Perhaps you are one of them?"

The level three witch almost choked as she tried to protest. "No, Isobel, I would not presume. I am loyal. Truly I am." The woman looked almost stricken.

"But loyalty is such a fickle thing." Isobel gazed at her with dismissive contempt. "Now go and be certain that our next meeting brings news that will make us stronger. Weakness or failure will never be tolerated while I am head of this Coven."

"And long may that continue," Miriam exclaimed in such an obsequious way that she felt ashamed the moment she had said it.

The walk to the Blue Coven was about as uncomfortable experience as Zack had ever known. He kept trying to think of how to word what he wanted to say, only to dismiss it as stupid and tactless.

As much as he might have wished he could just stop and hug the girl, tell her it was all okay, he knew that was out of the question. Not only was it broad daylight and numerous other Witch Town residents were going about their own business, he feared that Leonie would not welcome such attention from him at the moment. She was definitely withdrawn and seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts and emotions.

"I'm really sorry," he finally managed to say after several painful minutes of indecision.

The young witch gave him a fleeting glance. "Why?" she asked simply.

Zack hadn't expected this and there followed another strained silence. "Because I think I might have offended you," he told her eventually.

They passed a group of three witches whose accessories designated them as from the Red Coven and there were cursory nods towards Leonie.

"You do not understand anything, do you?" she said once the other women had moved on.

The boy was having trouble keeping up. "I...no, I suppose I don't." Zack was way out of his depth and he knew it.

"It is my honour that is in question. Can you not see that?"

Zack tried to fathom what she was talking about, but struggled. "But you just made that stuff up to keep Allana off our backs, didn't you?"

With a sigh, Leonie led him along a grassy path between two fields. The weight of the milk churn was beginning to make the boy's arms ache and he wished he could stop for a rest. Of course he was not likely to mention this, his pride and desire to prove his manliness too great to do such a thing. These thoughts almost made him chuckle to himself, but he cut his humour short, knowing that his current circumstances were anything but amusing.

"But that is not the point," she proclaimed with some exasperation. "My reputation is now forever tarnished. What I said was true, the Coven do view Mothers who have lost their husbands as commodities. They would not hesitate in using us in the way that I said."

"But you haven't, have you?" Zack said hastily, alarmed.

Now Leonie looked at him with real intensity. "What are you saying?"

With a grunt, the boy put down the churn and stopped. He felt like this entire situation was out of control and he had no idea how to proceed. "I'm...sorry. I really am. I just don't know what to say. If I keep talking I know I'm going to make things worse, but I can't not say anything! I feel like a total idiot. This is all way beyond anything I'm used to!" He knew he really did sound stupid, but he just did not know what to say or do.

She looked at him for a long moment. "You are a foolish young man," she told him, but her voice was tender and her eyes had softened.

Zack stared into her lovely green eyes and felt something move inside, a pulse, an awareness of something greater than what he thought of as love. It was a bond, more than just attraction, a recognition of someone who has touched the deepest part of his being. "I love you," he mumbled, afraid of the words.

The girl seemed to penetrate him with her gaze and before he knew it she was kissing him, the soft warmth of her lips amazing to him. The kiss went on for so long that Zack lost all sense of time and place and when she withdrew he only stood there in a daze.

"Milk churn," she directed in an officious voice, but her eyes danced.

"Milk churn," Zack agreed, grinning and lifted it up as if it weighed no more than a feather on the wind.

Jacob had served up a steaming pot of herbal tea and some thick slices of fruit cake. Ellie and Beth sat at the huge oak table that dominated the kitchen, picked at the food and looked at each other.

"I know," Ellie said, "it's insane, all of this."

The other girl glanced away, her expression strained. "I need to tell you why I'm here."

Ellie sat forward a little. She could tell her friend was struggling with something. "Tell me."

"Something bad happened. I did something...terrible." Reaching out to take her hand, Ellie waited for Beth to continue. "I killed one of them, one of the witches. I panicked, it just happened. I lost control and I killed her."

Ellie was stunned by this revelation. "And they know you did it?" she asked quietly, realising that everything was changing so fast it was impossible for her emotions to keep pace..

"Only Abigail," Beth told her, "but there is a price for her silence."

"What kind of price?" Ellie didn't like where this was going.

"I have to find out what you're going to do. Abigail knows the Black Coven are planning something and she wants to know what it is. She wants me to persuade you to pass the information through me to her."

"And if I don't?"

Beth's expression was very grim. "She will throw me to the wolves I guess."

Margaret was reading a book when Ellie entered her room and did not look up. "Sit down," she said distractedly.

The girl did as she was bid and then waited.

After what seemed an interminable time, the elderly witch placed the book down and focused on Ellie. "You got my note?"

Ellie spoke tentatively, treading carefully. "Yes, I did."

"Good. Please take it to heart."

The girl said nothing, understanding that a warning was all she was going to receive on this occasion. She was fortunate she knew, but of course Margaret wanted something in return. "Will you tell me more about the job you want me to do outside of Witch Town? Where am I'm going?"

The witch studied her with a sense of cool detachment. "I would not be so eager to leave when you do not know what is being asked of you."

"That's why I'm asking," Ellie fired back, her apprehension lost for the moment. She found the old witches attitude very irritating.

With a dry chuckle, Margaret tapped her nails upon the wooden desk. "There is an artefact that we would like to reclaim. It is held in the house of a collector of such things, antiquities you might say. Your experience of the outside world may prove beneficial, but more than this it will be a test of your faithfulness." She eyed the girl with good humour. "There are those who doubt your commitment to us."

"Sounds reasonable enough," Ellie responded, playing the woman at her own game.

Margaret's features became taut."For company," she said in an ice cold tone, "you will have your recent sparring partners, Helen and Grace. They are only too pleased to see you put through your paces in reality rather than rehearsal. I can assure you that the two are very different indeed."

Ellie found it difficult to hide her consternation. "And this artefact," she queried, attempting to conceal her true feelings, "will you tell me what it is?"

"Why of course, my dear," Margaret replied, all at once magnanimous. "It is the original amulet worn by our true mistress, Rebecca. Her own SpiritHeart. This is what you must return to us."

26

What am I supposed to do? I have no idea. What is that saying about being between the Devil and the deep blue sea? Well, I am in it. Beth wants me to help her, but how can I do that? If Margaret found out I had passed secrets to the Whites she would try to kill me, I have no doubt about that. But if I don't, what will happen to Beth? And to top it all, I'm supposed to be taking a trip with my two good buddies, Helen and Grace! It just keeps getting better and better!

Jeremiah was waiting for Zack when he arrived back at the house. His expression was not at all welcoming. "We need to talk," he told the boy.

Zack hesitantly pulled up a chair at the table and regarded the older man with uncertainty. "Has something happened?"

"You tell me," came the terse response.

Feeling his way now and not wanting to offend the man, Zack tried a different approach. "Have I done something wrong?"

Jeremiah gave a hard smile at this. "Now that depends on where you stand, I suppose. What do you think?"

"You keep asking me for my opinion, but I'm not sure what the subject is." The boy pitched this as mildly as he could, but the truth was he was beginning to feel irritated.

"Well let me make it plain for you then," Jeremiah voiced, gazing at him levelly. "You are putting my daughter in danger."

Zack stared at him in silence. "Leonie?" he said, more because he had been caught by surprise, than because he didn't know what the man was talking about.

"She is my daughter," Jeremiah went on, "and what you are doing will not go unnoticed for long. Don't you see that she will be punished because of you. I can't let that happen."

With a hollow sensation deep in his stomach, Zack tired to think, but found that there was very little he could say. He knew the man was right. As much as he would have liked to argue and protest he knew full well they would get caught sooner or later. Of course, he was willing to take that risk and also accept the consequences. But what about Leonie? The girl that he loved. Just thinking about that made his breathing become faster, his pulse picking up speed. He did love her. It was a fact and one that he was very happy to accept. "I'll do whatever is necessary to protect her," he said fervently, his cheeks flushed. He meant it, but he was very afraid of what it might mean.

Jeremiah gave a slow nod of his head. "That may require more than you are able to give."

The boy held his gaze and remained resolute. "I would do anything." Zack took a long breath. "I love her."

The older man seemed to look deep into his eyes, as if searching for something, before finally answering. "As do I," he said with an earnestness that spoke of a heartfelt truth that could not be denied.

There was some kind of commotion in the main foyer of the White Coven house and Abigail came striding out to investigate the cause.

What she saw left her stunned and speechless.

After several long moments she regained her composure and was finally able to speak out, her voice loud and clear. "What do you think you are doing!?" she demanded, anger beginning to replace the shock she had initially experienced.

Ellie stood casually within the main entrance hall, her black belt standing out conspicuously among all of the white accessories that every other women assembled there wore. "I want to talk to you."

Abigail had resumed her usual authoritative manner now. "You are not permitted to be here. Surely you know that. This is an outrageous breach of protocol!"

The girl looked entirely unimpressed. "I don't care," she stated, "I want to talk to you."

The other White Coven witches were looking on with a combination of disbelief and scandalised fascination.

"Do you realise," began Abigail, "that I could punish you severely, very severely indeed and not one of your Sisters would raise any objection? Even Margaret must abide by the laws of Witch Town."

"Really?" Ellie asked indifferently, "so does that mean you don't want to talk to me?"

The woman regarded her indecisively. "And what may I ask, would I want to discuss with you?"

Ellie gave just the slightest of shrugs. "Oh I don't know. Maybe we could talk about babies." The other witch's stiffened at this. "Is this not something you could debate within your own Coven?" Although Abigail said this in a calm, reasonable way, there was something in her tone that betrayed anxiety.

The girl just shook her head. "No, I don't think anyone else can help me with this. It has to be you."

Abigail took some time to consider her words, before the answer came. "I see." She studied Ellie with shrewd consideration. "Perhaps I should make an exception in this case then. After all, you are still very new here. It may be that you require a lesson in Coven protocol. But know this, you are being greatly honoured. I trust you appreciate that." She attempted a smile, but it was one that left her eyes untouched. "Won't you come this way and we will speak of these matters in more comfort?"

As Ellie followed behind the Head of the White Coven, the other witches could only look on in utter consternation.

History was being made in that moment.

Because, as each of them knew from their own studies and teaching, never before had a witch of any other colour been allowed to enter into their House.

To do so was punishable by death.

Beth had returned to talk to Ellie again. She was taking advantage of her temporary freedom so that she could convince or trick Ellie into revealing the plans of the Black Coven. Or at least that's what Abigail had in mind.

But Ellie was out according to the boy who called himself John.

He was obviously some kind of mini-butler, thought Beth and began to giggle at the idea. She stood there on the porch of the old house, a beaming smile on her face and then all at once she began to cry. Tears streamed down over her cheeks and she held herself tightly, rocked gently from side to side.

It had all become too much to bear, her life a parody of what it used to be.

"Beth?"

She turned around very slowly, her eyes blurry and looked down the steps that led up to the doorway to see a young man staring up at her. Beth tried to focus but everything was indistinct. "Zack?" she said hopefully.

"No," came the voice, an odd fusion of disappointment and joy. "It's me, Luke."

"Luke?" she repeated, wiping her tears away with a hand.

The boy bounded up the steps and there was a desperate intensity in the way he gazed at her. "Are you okay?" he asked, "what's been happening? I've been out of my mind with worry."

Beth steadied herself, regaining her composure. "I guess I'm okay. I came to see Ellie. How are you doing? You look really tired."

"You've been crying," he said gently, reaching out to touch her arm.

Without really meaning to, Beth pulled away from him. It was an instinctive movement, but she saw the hurt on his face. "Sorry," she offered, "I'm okay, really. I just have bad moments, you know."

Luke glanced away, fighting with his own wayward emotions. He looked down at himself and saw how dishevelled and dirty he was."We've been working in the fields," he told her off-handedly with a vague gesture over his shoulder.

"You and Zack?" the girl questioned, a note of excitement entering her voice and she looked beyond him as if hoping that the other boy might appear.

When Luke spoke again his tone was flat. "You won't see him. He's always with Leonie anyway." He watched her, waiting for the reaction he knew would come.

"Who's Leonie?" Beth's queried uneasily.

"One of the witches who keep an eye on us," he advised her casually, knowing exactly what he was doing.. "My personal watchdog, Allana, let me come back here for a rest. I hurt my arm." He gave it a tentative wave. "Just a strain, but it gives me a break so I'm not complaining." Luke watched her features as she absorbed his words. "But Zack is still fit for action. So he's out there with Leonie. They've become pretty close." Beth didn't say anything. She seemed lost in her own thoughts. "Do you want to come in?" he suggested affably, even though he felt as though his heart was withering in his chest."We could catch up a bit." He paused, reaching for the words he really wanted to say. "I didn't know if I would even see you again." His voice was raw now and Luke found it difficult to speak. "I...I wanted to come and find you...but I just couldn't. They wouldn't let me." His face was distraught. "I'm so sorry."

The girl focused on him again at last and managed a brief smile. For the moment she had managed to set aside whatever feelings she was battling with concerning Zack. "Don't worry. I know how it is here." Then she motioned towards the house. "I'm not sure we would be allowed in there until Ellie comes back."

Now Luke remembered something that made him feel very cold inside. Beth didn't know.

"I live here too," he ventured, not wanting to tell her the reason.

With a confused look, Beth raised a questioning eyebrow. "How come?"

Luke stood motionless wishing there was a way to avoid this entire, ludicrous situation. Was he really going to have to tell the girl he loved that he was married to her best friend!? Not that she would be upset or bothered. No, never that. If Zack had got married on the other hand, now that would be a very big deal indeed.

He schooled his thoughts, trying his best to rid himself of the bitterness that was gradually dominating his mind. "It's a long story," he offered evenly, despite the fact that in his head a war between affection and resentment raged on.

"What are you doing to the baby boys?" Ellie wasn't there to pussyfoot around. She wanted answers. And she wanted to help Beth.

"Your friend has been talking I see." Abigail's features were a mask of hospitality.

"That's not important. I want to know what's going on."

The woman regarded her amiably. They were standing in Abigail's room, the full length painting of the witch herself peering down upon the confrontation. "But it is important. As now you must surely understand I will need to punish the girl for her betrayal of my trust."

Ellie bridled at this. "If you do anything to Beth, I will see to it that you pay."

Abigail chuckled slightly, but her eyes were like flints. "Threatening me when you are a guest in my House is not very wise. And lest you forget, you are only a level three and barely that." She gripped her white cloak and pulled it around her a little. "Do not fancy yourself strong enough to challenge me."

With grim determination, Ellie showed no sign of fear and intimidation. "Beth came to me as you asked her to. You want information so I'm here to give it to you. She did what she was supposed to do so just leave her out of it!"

The witch considered the girl doubtfully. "You have come here to reveal your Coven's secrets? Is your allegiance so feeble?"

"The only allegiance I have," countered Ellie, "is to my friends."

Abigail gave a cursory nod. "Indeed? So what will you tell me? I am eager to hear."

The girl stood upright, determined to demonstrate that she would not back down. "Whatever you are doing to those babies, I know it can't be something you want everyone to know about. So here's the deal. You leave Beth alone, you leave me alone and I won't say anything. It's as simple as that."

This time Abigail laughed, an uproarious sound of gaiety. "Please tell me this? Who will you tell? Margaret? One of the other Heads of the Covens? They already know you foolish girl. We have been neutering the boys since Witch Town's very beginning."

"What do you mean, neutering?" Ellie demanded, horrified.

"Exactly that. Do you really expect us to let them grow to share our power? You are one of us, a Mother, would you really want the men to challenge our dominion?"

The girl could not quite believe what she was hearing. Her head swam as she tried to make sense of it. "And the others are doing this as well?" she asked, as a chill began to creep down her neck and spine.

"Of course," snapped the White witch, "but only the Heads of the Covens. It is their responsibility to see it done. Our Sisters do not need to be burdened with such things. And even if they knew it would make no difference. Every Mother would see that it is something that must be done to preserve our heritage."

With a growl of fury, Ellie stepped forward, jabbing a finger at her. "You are sick, all of you. Sick, disgusting monsters!"

Abigail was once more serene and unruffled. "You have so much to learn. But at least now you must see that there is little point in you telling our fellow Mothers. They really would not care."

Ellie's rage faded as rapidly as it had came and now she gave a hard, humourless smile. "You're probably right," she agreed, "but it wasn't the women I was intending to tell. It was the men."

Zack was at war with himself.

He knew that what Jeremiah had said was true. He was putting Leonie in terrible danger. But how could he ever give her up.

This new life that had claimed him had brought with it things that were both unexpected and unwanted. But not Leonie. No, she was something he did want and need. She was something worth the pain of change and trial.

He finished his daily tasks working alongside several of the other men. They went about their business with methodical deliberation, unsmiling, uncomplaining. But in some of their eyes he saw quiet anger.

One of those with him was the bearded man he had met during the clandestine gathering in the barn. But he never acknowledged the boy, nor gave him even the slightest glance.

After tidying up, all of the men went their separate ways leaving Zack alone.

Except for Leonie. She waited for him outside.

With a reluctance that hurt him in ways he had never realised were possible, he walked out across straw covered ground and faced her, an ever tightening sensation cramping his stomach.

The young witch smiled at him, but he could not return it.

"What is it?" she asked, knowing that something was wrong.

Zack brushed dirt and debris from his clothes and he felt very tired. "I can't let them hurt you," he spoke softly.

With a small shake of her head, Leonie searched his face. "What do you mean? Who will hurt me?"

The boy's expression was desolate. "Your sisters!" he spat the words, surprising himself with the venom he felt. "When they find out about us, they will hurt you won't they. Hurt you or kill you. Isn't that the truth!?"

Her mouth tried to form words to answer, but nothing came. Her eyes were filling with tears. Finally she managed to say in a barely audible whisper. "I can't change the way I feel."

This nearly broke him. He felt his fingernails pressing into his palms. "But I can't let the way I feel hurt you."

Now the tears were trickling freely over her cheeks and onto her lips. It was all Zack could do not to mirror her, his own eyes stinging. "What are you saying?" Leonie's voice wavered, but her gaze was steady.

It was time for the boy to say what he knew had to be said. He had rehearsed it over and over since his conversation with Jeremiah. But even though he had gone over the words in his mind, now that it came to it, they would not form, would not leave his mouth. "I..." was all that would come out.

Leonie came to him, moving quickly, wrapping her arms around him, holding him so tightly that it almost took his breath away. "Please don't say anything else," she breathed at his ear.

But Zack could not let selfishness or weakness keep him from doing what he knew was right. "If we carry on with this it would be like I was killing you myself. Maybe if I get out of here...".

But he didn't get any further. The girl pushed him away with a low moan of pain and fury.

"Don't make promises you will never keep," she told him with a choking sob. "You would never come back. You think you would, but once you are outside again, you would soon forget. You would want to forget."

"No," insisted the boy, moving toward her, but she kept just out of reach.

"You think you are making a great sacrifice," she said huskily with a fierce swipe of her hand at the tears that stained her face. "But what about me!? What of my life!? You don't even know me! Who are you to decide what's best for me!?"

Zack was speechless. Everything that he had believed was in turmoil. "I have to do what I think is right," he voiced weakly, knowing that he had lost the sense of certainty he had convinced himself he possessed.

"There is no right!" Leonie cried out, her emotions raw, "not for us, can't you see that? All of my life I have been told what to think, what to feel. My mother," she faltered, fresh tears marking her features, "wanted me to follow her, be like her. But I never could."

Swallowing very hard, Zack considered taking her into his arms and telling her everything would be alright. But he would not lie. Not now. "I will get out," he pledged, his words stronger than his voice. "I will. And then I will come back here to get you. I promise."

Leonie's tears were at an end. She gazed at him with red, sorrowful eyes. "And I will wait," she spoke in an emotionless voice. "Where else is there for me to go."

27

If things get any more crazy, I think I will start my own therapy group right here in Witch Town! I'm sure there are plenty of witches who are having issues and that's an understatement if ever I heard one. And don't even get me started on the men. If they knew what I knew! But my problem is that however hard I might try to make a joke of things to preserve my sanity, every day brings me just a little bit closer to the edge. And if I ever get pushed over it I'm pretty sure I will never come back.

One more heart to heart with Margaret and then it would be time to go.

Ellie was feeling relatively pleased with herself. She had faced down Abigail and got both herself and Beth out of trouble. At least temporarily.

The witch had not been at all happy about having to back down, but it was obvious that she did not want to incite the men. Ellie couldn't quite believe what she had been told, how the baby boys were injected at birth with some kind of serum to prevent them developing the ability to use Words. It had never even occurred to her that it was possible. Maybe she was just as arrogant as the rest of the women here after all. To ever think it was only females that possessed the gift.

But now this new knowledge brought up other issues and possibilities and she had made up her mind to attempt to take advantage of them before she departed.

The girl had been summoned once more to the elder witch's room and she was seated in a chair, fidgeting with impatience.

"I hear you took a bold step today," Margaret enquired, her expression neutral.

"You mean my visit to the White Coven house?"

"What else?" The Black witch studied her carefully. "Did you not understand how dangerous that was? Not only for you personally, but for our Coven?"

"It was personal business," countered the girl.

"You have no business that is not shared by your Coven, or by me. What you do reflects on all of us. You are a Sister in this House now. Never forget that." She seemed to consider her words before she spoke again. "What did you talk to Abigail about?"

Ellie pressed on with a determined glare. "I know what you do to the baby boys when they are born."

If Margaret was in any way startled by this revelation she didn't show it. "Indeed? Then you should also recognise the need for discretion. We who have been selected to govern Witch Town are expected to bear the full responsibility of whatever sacrifices are deemed necessary. Is that clear to you?"

For a moment, Ellie's dislike for the witch intensified, but she pushed it aside, knowing that it was not the time for such sentiments. She needed to concentrate on what she needed to achieve. "I understand that you are keeping the men where you want them and making sure they can never use our power. Is that about it?"

The smile Margaret gave was reptilian. "A fair summary," she agreed, "but it is the law. Passed down since the very beginnings of this township."

"So it was Rebecca's idea then?"

The older woman's expression was momentarily uncertain. "No," she said tentatively, "No, it was decided at the first council when the Five Covens were formed. But that is not important. If you are to fulfil your potential you must stand with us on this. There would be war if you do not."

Ellie gazed at Margaret with scepticism. "War!?"

The elderly witch rubbed her cheek. "An uprising, if you will. And what value would there be in that? We would be forced to put down our men like mad dogs. Is that what you would want?" She looked away then, a shadow of something in her eyes, a flicker of some unfathomable emotion. "Already you have seen the price that must be paid for conflict. My own daughter was a casualty." Her gaze returned sharply to Ellie and there was something potent, a fire that burnt with bitter passion gleaming there. "You should remember. As I do."

The girl didn't know how to respond, but she would not be put off. "That's not what I want to talk to you about."

Now the witch's countenance became measured and cool. "I am listening."

"I want you to make a deal with the White Coven and bring Beth here."

Margaret stared at her for quite some time. When she finally spoke her voice was matter-of-fact. "And this is to guarantee your silence?"

"Let's call it a gesture of good will," the girl said casually.

"And why should Abigail agree?"

Ellie gave just the briefest of smiles, although it was without humour. She knew how serious everything had become and she knew what Beth had done. "Maybe she would be glad to get rid of her."

"I see," was all the woman said.

"So?" Ellie asked after a few more moments of silence.

With a theatrical wave of her hand, Margaret's eyes bore into the girls. "I will see what I can do."

Luke was struggling with conflicting emotions. They raged within.

When he had explained to Beth about his sham marriage to Ellie he wasn't sure what he had expected. Shock. Outrage. Maybe just a little bit of jealousy. But no, who was he kidding. She would never feel that. The reaction he had not anticipated was laughter.

Beth had laughed at him.

He knew how stupid it was, he realised that he had been used as a dupe to get Ellie off the hook. But it had hurt him very badly to see the way Beth had looked at him, as if to say, you and Ellie. How could anyone believe something so ludicrous!

She didn't even ask how he felt about it, how it had affected him.

Luke was in love with Beth. He understood how that felt, warming his heart, soothing his soul. It was a dream he held onto, a dream of a different life. One where he would have hope and happiness and someone to share it with.

But he saw now that she didn't care about him at all. It was as if she viewed him as having no feelings, hollow, empty inside.

And he had begun to wonder if maybe it might not be better that way.

While Zack romanced his pretty young witch and Ellie moved further away as she became one of them, only Beth was left. Only Beth.

And yet, she saw him only as a joke and as he faced this reality, he felt something break deep inside him, something so entrenched within that its loss was like his spirit being snuffed out. He was left feeling suddenly devoid of sensation, his heart still beating, but the blood in his veins moving very slowly, thick with despair.

"So now we can concentrate on what needs to be done." Jeremiah said this in a considered tone. He watched the boy carefully.

Zack's features were slack. His heart just wasn't in it. "I don't really want to talk about this."

The man jabbed a finger at him. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There is more at stake here than your love sick suffering!"

With a scowl, the boy's hurt expression revealed how tormented he felt. "You wouldn't understand, would you!? You were forced into your marriage with a woman you don't even like. And now you're making sure I stay away from your daughter, when you don't have any relationship with her either!"

Raw emotions tore at Jeremiah's resolve. Hurt, resentment, sorrow. And yet far more than any of these. Something that went so deep, was so personal that it was impossible to name. "I have tried," he began, his voice low, "I did what I could to show her that I care. It was not easy." He stopped speaking and seemed in two minds about continuing. "As for Abigail. You do not know her. Best that you do not. Why she chose me I have no idea. I am strong, yes. I am not ugly." He smiled very briefly, but it was short lived. "The Mothers have to choose someone. Abigail has for the most part left me to my work. I rarely see her. This suits me well enough."

Zack began to feel calmer, something in the man's words affecting him. "Okay. I get it. But I won't give Leonie up. I love her, she loves me. There's got to be a way."

"Isn't that what this is all about," Jeremiah's said with passion, "finding a way to change things. You can help us. And help yourself."

"But what can we do? I've tried to think of something, but the women are too powerful." Zack feelings of helplessness and anguish fuelled his words. "They can do what they like. They make the damned laws! What can we ever hope to do against them?"

Jeremiah's expression became very grim. "Some of the men are getting desperate. There's no telling what they might do. There's been talk of taking a torch to the whole town, burning it to the ground. Some think this would force change. But I want no part of killing. I've told them as much. But mine is not the only voice. Others are more radical, more reckless."

This was a sobering idea and Zack found himself momentarily distracted from his own personal misery. "We can't let them do that. Anyone could get caught up in it. Surely they know that, don't they?"

"Desperate people will do desperate things," was all the man answered.

"But don't the women know, don't they understand how far you are being pushed!?"

Jeremiah gave a shrug. "They don't care. The heads of the Covens such as my wife see the men as nothing more than slaves. In every way."

"But they would care, if someone took a torch to their precious Houses!"

"Maybe they could just put the flames out anyway," the man mused, "I don't know. Abigail is very strong, stronger than most of them. Who can say what they are capable of."

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Zack said irritably. His mind strayed to Leonie and he felt his mood darken. "Is there really no way out of this place? Couldn't we just escape?"

"In with power..." the man intoned.

"I know, I know," snapped the boy. "Aren't any of the women sympathetic. Leonie..." He stopped himself, realising that he would not help things by talking about her.

But Jeremiah only shook his head. "Even those few know very well they can do nothing. They are bound by their laws and their honour."

"What kind of honour is that!?"

"The only honour they know," was the immediate reply. Jeremiah rubbed his temple. "It's late. We will achieve little through weariness."

As much as Zack might have wanted to debate the point, he knew that it was true and it didn't make any difference arguing about it.

But now faced with the prospect of going to bed and sleep, he did not relish the long night ahead, turning over and over in his head the things he had said to Leonie.

And worse still, when the morning came, he would have to face her again.

The boy knew he needed to keep his distance for her own safety, but it would kill him to do so. "Good night then," he said to the man distractedly, realising this was something that he would have to endure alone.

Jeremiah made no response. He didn't need to. The conversation was over, at least for a time. And tomorrow would bring more of the same. More heartache, more pain, more ill-will.

All seething and festering behind the blank stares of the men who laboured in the fields of Witch Town.

There had been no time for goodbyes. Helen and Grace had not allowed it. They had come for her as the night became impenetrable and announced that it was time to leave. She had considered making an excuse to at least tell Luke, but then she had recalled their last conversation and decided not to bother.

One thing at least she had received and she kept it in close to her. A note from Zack. Luke had reluctantly passed it to her earlier and she had been elated to read it, however brief it might be. It had come at the time she most needed some encouragement.

Sis, I know this is all really hard, but keep fighting. Don't forget who you are. Don't forget I'm your brother. We will get through this and all be together again. Love you.

Now Ellie found herself out beyond the buildings of Witch Town, walking along the same gravel path she had trodden when she had arrived. The fact was that she knew she could have come out here any time since she had joined the Black Coven and maybe, just maybe, walk right out of there and leave them all behind. She didn't know whether that was just a fantasy and witches were guarding the way in and out, although she saw no sign of anyone now. But, whatever the case, something had always stopped her from even trying, whether it be the obvious reason, her concern for the others and not wanting to leave them behind, or more disturbingly, that she found her new life here fascinating and exciting.

She had to accept that her appetite for knowledge had overridden everything else. Could she have smuggled out Luke, maybe Zack as well, if she had really wanted to? It would have been far more difficult to take Beth, at least until recently. The reality was that she hadn't even considered it seriously. There was a desire growing within her, an undeniable need to discover more about the power she possessed. From the moment the amulet had attached itself to her she had been irrevocably changed. There was no point fighting the truth of it. Ellie knew.

With casual efficiency Grace had spoken 'light,' and she had been surrounded by a glow of illumination that was enough for the three of them to find their way in the gloom.

They had reached the sign that had signalled such consternation when they had seen it for the first time. Now Witch Town seemed to Ellie to be more real than anything she had experienced before.

She tried to clear her head, focus on what they were actually doing. Ellie still knew very little about the logistics of this mission.

Going off to find Rebecca's original SpiritHeart was one thing, but how far away was it and how were they going to get there. She glanced over at the other two women and for the first time in a while, noted that their clothing was not exactly conventional. She had just got used to it she decided. Even her own identical outfit had become almost second nature to her.

They passed under the signpost. She felt nothing at all. Ellie had expected some kind of sensation, but there was nothing.

"They will be looking for me. It's been weeks since we got here." Ellie said this aloud as it occurred to her and then wondered if she should have kept this observation to herself. But these two women really annoyed her and she wanted to let them know that they hadn't got every angle covered.

Helen cast a cursory glance in her direction and her expression was dismissive. "We will deal with that if it becomes necessary."

They trudged on and Ellie was shocked how close the road was to where they had left the borders of witch town. She found herself looking for their car, but there was no sign of it. Surely it would have been taken away for forensic study by the police anyway.

Ellie still persisted, trying to goad the two witches. "The police could still be in the area. They won't have given up searching for evidence. They're probably thinking we've been murdered."

"Why would they look here?" Helen sounded entirely disinterested. Grace wasn't even taking any notice of this exchange, intent on negotiating a rutted field, making for a wooden gate adjoining the road.

Ellie was puzzled at this. "They would have found the car. They would know we had to be around here somewhere."

Helen's grin was enough to tell the girl that she had been foolish. "Do you really think we know nothing of the world outside Witch Town? We understand only too well the petty, small minds of these people. Their ancestors hunted us and we learnt the art of concealment well. Your transportation is safely hidden from the eyes of those who might have come looking for you. They found nothing. You and your friends are just four more who went missing and will never be found."

With a horrible, knotted feeling in her stomach, Ellie didn't know what to say in response. She realised dismally that these women would do whatever they needed to survive. They had been doing it for centuries after all.

But she would still find a way to find help her friends. Now she was out she would not return without it. And Helen and Grace would not stop her.

One way or the other she was going to end this.

28

Now that I'm out I'm not sure not what I'm supposed to do. I know I can beat these two witches, or at least I did before. Maybe I just got lucky. Why would Margaret send them with me when she knows that anyway? Does she want me to make a run for it. And what would she do to the others if I have to really hurt these two women in the process? Is this some kind of trap? That thought keeps passing through my mind. But what about Rebecca's amulet? Why wait until now to go and get it? Something doesn't feel right about this. And as usual I'm caught right in the middle.

The road was very dark and there were no street lights. Also there were no footpaths, so the three women walked along the side keeping to the grass verge.

"Is it far?" Ellie enquired, feeling immediately stupid as she said it.

Neither of her companions replied.

Ellie could not help herself but think what a strange trio they must make wandering along a country road in their long, antiquated dresses. She was definitely having another of her surreal life experiences. Just one of many on her list lately.

Ahead, they saw a light flicker through the trees and hedges. Car headlights.

The girl wondered if she would be asked to hide in the bushes and did not relish having to struggle across a ditch in the murk and probably end up flat on her face in the mud.

But Grace had other ideas.

The witch walked straight out into the middle of the road and just stood there. She was no longer lit by the power of her Word so she appeared as only a vague outline.

Ellie watched mystified as the headlights drew nearer, coming slowly around several bends before reaching them. Grace stood her ground and held out one hand imperiously to indicate that the vehicle should come to a halt.

Whoever the driver might be they would not have much choice as the only way to get past on the narrow road would be to run the woman over.

When the car came around the final turn in the road and its beam hit the woman standing there, brakes were abruptly applied and it came to a halt. For several moments the car's engine idled while the witch stood unmoving illuminated by its headlights. Then the sound of a door opening broke the stillness of the night.

Someone called out. "Hello? Is there a problem?" It was a man's voice, tentative and apprehensive.

With no hesitation, Grace strode forward. Ellie and Helen were content to remain spectators. "Control," voiced the witch as she neared the car and even in the dimness the amulet glowed with her essence when she spoke.

Now Helen moved forward and Ellie followed dutifully. When she got close enough to see the occupant of the vehicle she noted that the driver was a middle aged man. There were no passengers. He was sitting motionless in the driver's seat, a vacant expression on his face.

Grace went to the passenger side and got into the car beside him. Helen contented herself with a place in the back. Ellie stood there in the darkness for several seconds, trying to get her mind in order. Was it really so easy to make people do whatever you wanted them to? The idea disgusted her, but also thrilled her on another more primitive, fundamental level. She hated herself for it, but she could not deny it.

"Get in," ordered Helen with impatience.

Ellie did as she was told. Wherever this journey was taking them she would have to go along for the ride.

They had been travelling for well over an hour. The man who controlled the vehicle never spoke, his concentration on the task at hand, namely going wherever Grace told him to go. The woman had produced a small set of instructions neatly inscribed and was following them to the letter, conveying the directions to the man with clipped precision.

"How long will he be like that?" the girl asked in the back seat next to Helen.

"It varies," the witch answered. "This one seems weak so Grace's command may well see us through to our destination."

"About that," Ellie remarked, "where exactly are we going? Shouldn't I have some idea of what this is all about?"

"Margaret told you our purpose did she not?" the older woman said curtly.

Ellie rolled her eyes. She couldn't help herself, but Helen didn't seem to notice. "Yes, I know, Rebecca's lost SpiritHeart and some collector who has it. But what are we supposed to do? Just knock on his door and ask for it back!?"

Now it was Helen's turn to eye the girl with a mocking glare. "The place where the amulet is kept will be protected. I thought that much would be obvious even to you."

Ellie saw no value in continuing and turned to look out of the window as the contours of the land flashed by. They were travelling at a far greater speed than she felt was necessary, but Grace spurred the driver on, his trance like state leaving him susceptible to her every whim.

With reluctance, Ellie resisted the impulse to ask 'are we there yet' and found herself smiling wryly. She wondered if the others would even realise she had gone. Surely Luke would notice and tell Zack. But did it really matter. Now she was outside, what was she going to do?

"What about if someone reports him missing?" the girl voiced, nodding at the man, as the idea occurred to her.

"Do not concern yourself with such trivial matters," berated Helen, "are you so unsure of your powers that you fear you will be unable to remove any obstacle in our way?"

"I was just asking," Ellie said sullenly.

The car sped on, having now joined a motorway. To Ellie it felt so strange to see other people, ordinary people, travelling in their own vehicles, going about their everyday business. Admittedly it was very late, in the early hours of the morning, but there were still other motorists and she wanted to reach out in a longing for kinship with them. The problem was that she just wasn't like them anymore. It hurt her in a profound way that she would never be able to describe. It was too personal, too intimate for any words.

"Take the next turning," Grace instructed their hapless chauffeur. He was soon indicating as they left the brighter lights of the main road and joined a less frequented thoroughfare. "Another twenty miles," the woman in the front seat reported, glancing at Helen.

"We will be ready," was Helen's purposeful reply. And Ellie knew that she would be expected to play her part. She still did not really understand why she had been brought on this trip anyway. Margaret's talk of using her knowledge of the outside world seemed entirely obsolete.

What would be waiting for them at the residence of this mysterious collector was anyone's guess. But it wouldn't be long now before she would be finding out.

Beth stared at the ceiling. It was becoming an all too familiar sight. Sleep was an absent friend, her mind far too restless.

And things were changing again. Abigail had earlier summoned Beth to her room and informed her that she would be moving to the Black Coven House in the morning. There was no reference to anything that had gone before, no enquiries about Ellie or her plans. Whatever her friend had done it had worked. But did that mean things were going to improve. One witch was much like the next as far as Beth was concerned.

So did that include Ellie?

She turned this question over in her head, looking at it from different angles, trying to make sense of her warring emotions.

Beth understood that everyone was having to adjust. She thought about her conversation with Luke. He just didn't seem right. The boy was obviously under stress and was tired, but it was more than that. A number of times Beth had caught something in his eyes, a glimpse of resentment, a shadow of bitterness. It scared her.

She let her mind drift away and found her imagination summoning an image of Zack. She really missed him. Beth had fallen for her best friend's brother pretty much the first time she had spoken to him, something about the way he carried himself, his voice, his smile. She caught herself becoming slushy and found that she was grinning to herself.

But what about this witch that Luke had talked about. He had seemed pretty convinced that something was going on. Beth couldn't believe that. Zack and one of them. Surely he wouldn't. She began to feel the first sharp pangs of jealousy.

What was this messed-up world she was living in?

Beth closed her eyes, determined to get some sleep before her first day in the service of Margaret and the Black Coven. All she hoped was that if she dreamed it would be of Zack, alone without any of those damn witches in tow. Particularly young and pretty ones.

Without realising it she was gritting her teeth. Just Zack. She set her mind on him.

And before too long she was dreaming. Dreaming of things that were disturbing and unwanted.

She saw them together by a river, the sunlight peeping through the trees. Zack with his arm around her. It was perfect.

But there were shapes in the water, moving just beneath the surface.

Beth was frightened of them and she turned to Zack for reassurance, but when she looked up at his face it was Luke's eyes she gazed into. And his expression was one of fury.

He spoke to her, his lips moving urgently, but there was no sound. It was if a mute button had been pressed and all she could see was his animated expression as he ranted at her, his features contorted with a dark passion.

Finally she tore her eyes away from him and looked back down into the murky depths of the river, searching the water. And what she saw made her scream.

Many faces stared up at her, although their eyes were pale and translucent without pupils. Their mouths were open, screaming wordlessly. Shrieking at her on and on without end.

Even though she could not hear them Beth still put her hands over her ears. She couldn't bear it. But even so, she could not stop looking. She was transfixed.

Then, just when she believed it could not get any worse, she felt strong hands on her shoulders. Beth tried to turn to see who it was and just had time to catch sight of Luke, his eyes full of loathing as he pushed her brutally into the water.

Beth screamed as she was submerged and the river filled her mouth and entered into her lungs.

Her eyes bulged open, her head twisting in fear and panic. From beneath her there was movement, as figures dislodged themselves from the riverbed, coming for her.

The terror that gripped her entire body was all encompassing. Beth was lost to the horrors of her nightmare and she knew in her ruined heart that she would never awaken again.

Grace instructed their driver to pull over as they neared a driveway leading to a large cast iron gate. This was flanked by twelve foot walls that ran for as far as the eye could see on either side. "Remain here and wait for us," the woman told the man as he switched off the engine and sat quite still, an expression of vague disinterest on his face.

The three witches got out and regarded the impressive gates, beyond which the driveway led on through a line of trees. Ellie wasn't sure what they were going to do, but for the time being she was content to let her companions take the lead.

"Open," uttered Helen and immediately the gates began to swing inwards.

Ellie decided that there was really very little that could not be achieved with their Words. It was truly amazing that she should possess such a power. It also occurred to her fleetingly that a life of crime would be a simple enough thing to pursue with this ability. This amused her in sardonic way, but she knew that she had better keep her concentration as nothing was ever as easy as it first appeared.

The three women walked through unchecked. No alarm went off, no floodlights were triggered. They trudged along the driveway without another word spoken between them.

After perhaps ten minutes they made out lights glimmering in the distance. A large house was situated within these grounds and it was brightly lit, despite the hour. The girl knew this was where Rebecca's SpiritHeart must be kept. "Will there be guards?" she whispered.

"No guards," Grace murmured and Ellie couldn't help but feel relieved. The witch glanced at her, pale features just an outline in the dimness. "Just traps."

Zack started awake. Something was suffocating him. A hand across his mouth. He struggled, disorientated.

"Be still," came the voice of Jeremiah in a hiss.

The boy relaxed a little, his eyes straining to see in the darkness of his room. "What's going on?" he asked with urgency once the man had removed his hand.

"It's started," came the terse response, "most of the others are out there now. I couldn't stop them."

"What!?" Zack exclaimed, unable to contain his alarm.

"They have torches," stated Jeremiah, already moving away from the bed towards the door.

"Oh my God," the boy whispered, throwing the blankets off and getting to his feet.

"Quickly," ushered the man, his own demeanour increasingly tense, "We have to stop this before anyone gets hurt."

In Zack's mind images flashed by, Ellie, Luke, Beth. But most of all, Leonie. He would not let anything hurt her.

The three women stood before an imposing door, steps leading up to it beneath a stone archway.

"So do we just ring the bell?" Ellie enquired, keeping her voice low.

Grace ignored her and moved forward. "Unlock," she said and they heard an audible click from within. Without further delay, the witch simply pushed the door inwards and entered.

Helen followed on behind, leaving Ellie momentarily standing outside alone. She looked about her, everything still. The lights from the house illuminated beautiful gardens, well maintained with numerous flowers and plants.

Why keep all the lights on during the night, wondered the girl. Were they expected?

With an uneasy sensation gnawing at her, she climbed the steps and went through the doorway into the house. Time to find out one way or the other.

29

If I am a witch, does that mean my Mum is one too? Crazy idea I know, but you get to thinking. I just can't see it to be honest. No offence, but my Mum just isn't the type! Okay, I realise there is no 'this is how a witch acts' manual, but come on, I would have known if she was. Seriously, that woman can't control herself, let alone anything else. So where did I inherit this power? Beats me.

Whatever Ellie had expected to see as she entered the house, it was not what greeted her. The three of them were standing in a single large room, perfectly square. Doors were situated in each wall. But the most striking thing about it was that everything was blue. Blue walls, ceilings, furnishings. It was quite dazzling in a harsh, unsettling way.

The girl glanced at her companions and both seemed somewhat perplexed. "Go very carefully," Helen said softly.

Ellie didn't need to be told. Her pulse was hammering away and despite the fact that the room was not warm at all, she felt a light sweat on her neck.

Grace went cautiously forward, ever watchful and Helen followed perhaps five feet behind, scanning both the floor and the walls. They were both obviously expecting trouble. Ellie hung back a little and noted that there were no windows, the light in the room provided by two enormous blue tinted chandeliers.

Even as the girl looked up at them she heard an odd mechanical whirl, the sound abruptly breaking the silence. She whipped her head around to see an opening appear above the doorway at the far end of the room and from inside a silver contraption appeared, as if moving along a track. It trundled forward and Ellie realised with sudden panic that it was some kind of weapon, similar to a crossbow. "Watch out!" she shouted, but even as she called there was a ratcheting sound as the machine released its bolt.

"Deflect," cried out Grace as the missile whooshed through the air at them and the bolt altered its trajectory just a few inches away from striking her, shooting off to imbed itself in a wall. It all happened incredibly fast and Ellie had to take in several long breaths to get herself under control.

With extraordinary casualness, Helen went over to examine the object.

A metallic dart was buried in the plaster. It must have been at least six inches in length judging by how much still protruded from the wall.

Grace and Helen exchanged an ironic look.

Ellie definitely didn't want to be taking the lead after that and waited for Grace to approach the door that had been protected by the crossbow device. Even as she looked on, the mechanism retracted and disappeared.

Without delay, Grace went confidently to the door, took hold of the handle and opened it.

For a moment, Ellie thought something had happened to her as she just stood there framed in the doorway, unmoving. Then coming up behind her, the girl saw that there was another identical room beyond. Identical in every way except its colour.

This one was entirely yellow.

Great, she thought, we have the interior decorator from hell who likes to set traps for unwary visitors! And yet, they were hardly visitors were they? They were unwanted intruders intent on stealing a very precious artefact.

And whoever had set these traps had expected someone to come. Ellie didn't consider herself to be any kind of genius, but it didn't take one to know that there would be other things designed to stop them before they reached their goal.

She waited for Grace to enter the adjoining room and then pointedly allowed Helen to follow. Ellie was more than happy to remain in last place. Age and arrogance before brains and beauty she decided.

Out in the night of Witch Town, Zack was becoming frantic.

There was noise in every direction. Shouting, cries of anger, screams of pain.

Lights flickers to his left, to his right. Whether it was flames or lanterns he could not say. He moved faster, running, Jeremiah at his side. Without really thinking, they were both making for the Green Coven House.

Sprinting now as the sound of raised voices grew ever louder, they were nearing their destination and rounded a corner to come face to face with a mob of perhaps half a dozen men, all carrying torches. Their eyes were wild in the firelight and Jeremiah confronted them with a shout of warning. "Hold!"

At the forefront was the grey-haired man who Zack had met before. He gazed at Jeremiah with barely contained zeal. "Now is the time! You and the boy grab a torch and let's end this!"

"No," bellowed Jeremiah, standing his ground. The other men milled about restlessly, eager to move away. There was fear, anticipation, anger, all vying with each other in their expressions.

"If you're not with us, just stand aside!" called out another voice from the group.

"No!" repeated Jeremiah once more. "I will not let you do this, Samuel." Zack took up a position at the man's shoulder. He had no idea what they could do against this band of men if it came to a physical confrontation, but he would not back down.

The man named Samuel who led them held his flaming torch aloft. "This is the way forward, Jeremiah. No more talk. This is the only way to change things!"

There was movement now to their left and the silhouettes of people approaching caught Zack's eye. All heads turned to see the three women advancing, the green of their accessories revealed in the torchlight.

"What is this!? What you are doing here!?" the first demanded as she came into view. Zack scanned their faces and was relieved to see Leonie among them. At least she had not been hurt. The girl registered him with a start, but said nothing. She turned her attention to the gang of men.

The spokesman for the mob stepped forward, trying to hide his fear at their arrival. "Keep away!" he shouted at them. "Do not speak again. You cannot subdue us all. If you force our hand, it will go badly for you." He sounded less than confident in his own words.

There was a commotion somewhere off to their left and this caused most heads to turn for a few moments. More cries in the night. Further distant there were other sounds less distinguishable.

Zack recognised that there must be many small groups out there, intent on destruction. Already the boy could see smoke drifting into the sky.

The witch who had spoken challenged them with a fierce glare. "Do not defy us! You are Husbands! Return to your dwellings! How dare you threaten us!"

Now there was uncertainty among the men and some seemed in two minds. Several had an almost embarrassed look on their faces.

But Samuel suddenly roared, a shocking, animal sound that startled everyone. "No more!" And with that he stepped forward and thrust his torch at the witch, igniting her clothing.

For several long moments no-one moved. All eyes were locked on the woman as her garments began to burn, flames licking around her torso as the cloth was consumed by flame. The witch herself seemed to be transfixed by what was happening to her, merely looking down with dumb fascination. Her hair was burning now and it was then that she began to scream.

She had become a beacon in the darkness.

It was Leonie who rushed forward. "Extinguish!" she called, her eyes wide with shock. And although there was an immediate response from the flames, the other witch was clutching at her face and body, the fire already having caused terrible injury. She collapsed to the ground, moaning, all sign of the blaze now gone. But the damage had been done.

There was a stillness among them as Leonie knelt by her companion. Zack saw the horror in the girl's face and her anxious glance down at her amulet which still glowed dully. She was powerless until it cleared again.

It was then that the third of the Green Coven Witches came forward. "Agony!" she screamed, her focus on the man who had attacked her Sister.

Madness reigned after this it seemed to Zack. But despite the chaos, only one thing was important to him. Protect Leonie.

Even in these moments of pandemonium he was dimly aware than somehow everything had shifted and his allegiances had become confused. He should have been standing with the other men. This is what he would have expected. But his heart believed otherwise.

If Ellie never saw yellow again it would be too soon.

Her eyes actually hurt looking at it all. Bizarre yellow drapes that didn't actually seem to cover anything, bookshelves full of yellow leather bound books, everything bright and gaudy. There were also a pair of cupid statues against one wall that looked to be made of some kind of bronze metal. Well, yellowish bronze anyway.

Grace and Helen appeared to pay no interest in the decor at all. They had other matters to consider. Such as where was the next trap likely to spring from.

It didn't take very long to find out.

Even as they took tentative steps towards another door on the other side of the room, there was an audible click as if something had been triggered and Ellie knew it could only be bad news. When she saw the two cupids begin to swivel on their axis, small bows pointing in their direction, she knew how right she was.

Helen had seen them too and took immediate action. "Liquefy," she called out and the cupids started to melt, their arrows drooping pathetically even as they were released. They flew only a short distance, dissolving in mid air to tumble to the ground in a molten puddle.

The two statues themselves now resembled some kind of grotesque sculptures, a disfigured hulk of molten liquid.

"Easy enough," voiced Ellie optimistically.

Helen glowered at her. "Perhaps you will find the next room more challenging if you go in alone."

The girl just looked at her and couldn't help thinking 'bitch!'. What was it with these women? Why all the attitude?

Even so, Grace was the one who continued to take the lead and went to the next door. Ellie came up behind her to see yet another garish room revealed beyond. This one all in purple.

Apart from the colour scheme, this room was somewhat different as it had no furnishings whatsoever. The others had been dressed with sedan chairs and stylish tables, lamps and the occasional figurine, all colour coded of course. This room however was entirely bare. Just an expansive purple tiled floor.

The three women eyed it sceptically.

"After you," Ellie suggested in a weak attempt at humour.

Grace said nothing and stepped out into the room. Once more there was a door at the far end. She began to walk towards it, Helen and Ellie fanning out on either side of her.

The feeling of vulnerability that came over Ellie was hard to resist as they got half way across. She knew how exposed they were and she also recognised that was the intention of whoever had designed this place. Her eyes darted around trying to predict where the next attack would come from.

Grace's steps were slow but deliberate. She moved with purpose, but she was tense and preparing herself for whatever might lay in wait. Another step. Her foot touched a tile, just another identical to the rest. But this one moved very slightly underfoot. The woman came to a standstill, matched by her companions.

On every side, there was the sound of a mechanism coming to life. Ellie twisted around and witnessed the tiles in front of the door they had entered by abruptly punctured by six inches spikes, each springing from somewhere under the flooring with enormous force. She continued to stare as more tiles followed suit, almost in a domino effect, the noise of the deadly needles rising out of the ground very loud. She turned around again to see the same thing occurring in front of them.

Helen and Grace stepped in closer beside her, but there was no fear or panic on either face.

"Levitate," Helen said with assurance and all three of them began to rise, only a few inches at first, but steadily moving upward. Ellie almost began to wave her arms for balance, but managed to maintain a dignified sense of poise, allowing herself to be manoeuvred into the air. Below, the tiles where they had been standing were viciously perforated with deadly spikes and the girl gazed down from her place, perhaps ten feet above, with a tremendous sense of relief.

Now what, she wondered as the three of them hovered there.

All at once every spike retracted. The floor was as it was before.

Ellie felt herself gradually descending, until her feet touched the ground again. Although she stood there, grateful to be safe and unharmed, she almost wanted to hop on one foot, as if the floor itself was hot. Who knew if those damn needles could suddenly pop up again.

"Come." It was Helen, already moving towards the door, eager herself to be out of the room.

Without hesitation she took firm hold of the circular doorknob and turned it.

The woman cried out, wrenching her hand away and Ellie gave a startled blink as she saw a four inch needle protruding from the centre of the handle.

Immediately Grace was beside the other witch, who clutched her palm in obvious distress. Helen's skin was already becoming yellowish and her eyes were watering.

"What is it!?" Grace asked with urgency.

The other woman staggered and leaned against a wall for support. "Poison." She was barely audible.

Grace took a step back and focused her attention on the stricken witch. "Antidote," she uttered and her amulet began to respond, imbued with her essence.

Ellie looked on, expecting to see a reaction from Helen. There was none. If anything she was worsening and she allowed herself to slump down onto the floor, resting against the wall for support. "What's wrong?" she questioned, turning to Grace.

The witches expression was bleak. "Whatever this is, it is beyond my ability."

Helen eyes flickered, gazing up at them. And in her gaze Ellie saw the steady, undeniable approach of death.

30

Someone doesn't want us to get out of this house in one piece, that's for sure. But they obviously didn't count of three witch burglars turning up! I almost feel sorry for any garden variety thieves that might have picked this place out. I doubt very much they would have got beyond room one, let alone made it to where the valuables must be hidden away. But that's not exactly my concern is it? For now, I need to focus on how to keep myself alive.

It was if he had been hit by a massive burst of electricity. The man flung his arms out, his entire body becoming rigid and his mouth gaped open in a silent, endless scream.

Zack looked on, appalled, as the effects of the witch's Word took hold of Samuel and assaulted him with terrible pain.

But his attention was quickly diverted to the other men, who now came charging at the two remaining women, their torches brandished as weapons. Without even thinking about what he was doing, the boy launched himself forward, hurling himself at the thickset man who had approached closest to Leonie. Zack was vaguely conscious of Jeremiah moving somewhere to his left, also running.

But before he could reach the man, Leonie cried out a single word, her voice clear even above the tumult. "Stop!"

Her would-be attacker came to a standstill, his torch still held outstretched. The girl's eyes glinted with alarm in the firelight. But already the others were upon the second witch and had pushed her to the ground, one of them kicking her viciously in the side, making her grunt and pull herself in a foetal position. "Don't let her speak!" cried out a harsh voice. There were several more blows from boots and fists and the woman lay still and silent.

Now Jeremiah was amongst them, shoving at one, facing down another. Four men confronted him, all matching him in height and build. Zack held Leonie's gaze for just the briefest of moments and then turned and moved to stand beside Jeremiah. "That's enough," the man bellowed. "This has gone too far!"

"Keep out of this!" barked a balding man, his muscular arms tensed in anticipation of combat.

"I will not!" fired back Jeremiah, "this is madness!"

"The time for talk is over," agued another of the men. "Either stand with us, Jeremiah, or stand against us, it's your choice!"

But Jeremiah did not get an opportunity to answer. There was a movement of wind about them, every torch sputtering. And then a voice spoke, calm and self-assured. "Husband?"

All heads turned, including Zack and Jeremiah's.

Abigail stood perhaps fifteen feet distant, her white cloak radiant in the dim light.

Now there was a different tension among the group of men, fear mingling with anger. "We've already killed one of you, choose your words carefully," called out one of their number menacingly.

But the witch only had eyes for Jeremiah. "Husband?" she repeated, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

Jeremiah regarded her in the flickering torch light. "I am here," he stated simply.

"That I can see," the witch said mildly, "but why?"

The man hesitated before answering, casting a quick glance at Zack, but if there was meaning in the look it was lost on the boy. "Can't you see that this has been coming for a long time," he told her, his gaze unwavering, his tone imploring. "Things need to change, that's all we're asking for."

Abigail gave just the slightest of nods and her eyes strayed to where Leonie stood off to one side, now a spectator. The girl watched silently, her expression pained and anxious. "Change?" queried the woman, "is that what this is about, Husband? And do you hope that by killing a Mother this will bring about what you ask for?"

"I had no part in it," asserted the man, "but that does not change the fact of what I tell you. Things cannot remain as they have been in Witch Town."

The other men seemed content to allow Jeremiah to speak for them for the moment, but they were more than prepared to wield their torches if necessary. Samuel now lay on the ground, still writhing and moaning with pain, not far from the corpse of the witch he had slain.

Abigail's soft peel of laughter was an unpleasant sound. It was full of malice and scorn. "I can see a lesson is needed," she spoke with silken menace. "But I fear that it will need to be a severe one. You Husbands," she turned her attention to the four who stood poised to attack. "You will see that sacrifices are necessary to sustain our prosperity. But I would not ask you to make a sacrifice if I was not willing to do so myself." Her gaze moving lazily back to her own Husband. "Bleed." The word hung in the air, frightening in its simplicity.

Jeremiah stared at her for several moments before a trickle of blood began to run from his nose. His eyes widened in shock and he reached up to dab at his upper lip. Zack gazed at him, not knowing what to do and saw that blood was also spilling out from his ears, becoming a steady flow.

"Stop it!" It was Leonie's voice as she came running to stand between her mother and father.

"Too late," Abigail told her sharply, her amulet already clouded with her essence.

Zack took Jeremiah's arm just as he began to totter, his balance unsteady and the boy was horrified to see that blood was also seeping out from the corners of the man's eyes now.

"Please!" Leonie beseeched her mother, "Please stop it!" She gave a frantic look at Jeremiah and saw him leaning heavily on Zack. The other men had lowered their torches and were inching backwards, this brutally callous display shocking them into retreat.

Zack could not hold up Jeremiah any longer and allowed him to slump to the ground. Blood came from between his lips and his eyes fluttered weakly.

"You are killing him!" screamed Leonie.

Abigail's gaze was cruel and without remorse and her reply was like ice. "He is dead."

The boy cradled the man in his arms, Jeremiah's blood now running freely. Zack wanted to do something, say something, but he was stunned by what he was witnessing. He felt tears burning his eyes and made no attempt to check them. Distantly he heard the sounds of raised voices, deep, guttural calls of distress and calamity. Men's voices. The witches were dealing with the revolt all across Witch Town in merciless fashion it seemed.

Leonie stood helplessly facing her mother. Her expression was one of frustrated rage. But Abigail only regarded her with indifference. "Now, Husbands." Her voice was clear and rang out through the night. "Remember what you have witnessed here and remember it well. Mutiny will never be tolerated here. And our retribution will be final."

Zack knew that Jeremiah was dead. He didn't want to accept it, but he knew. Gently he let go of the man and turned to glare at Abigail. "But he tried to stop them," he said in a choked, husky voice, the words reluctant to leave his mouth. The boy swallowed hard, fresh tears running down over his face. "He tried to stop them!" he suddenly cried out, the sound startling in its intensity.

The witch gave him only the most cursory of glances. "Perhaps he should have tried a little harder," she remarked, turning on her heels and making off into the darkness.

Already the other men had departed without any more argument, taking their two recovering companions to stagger away with them. They were beaten and they knew it.

Leonie came to kneel beside Zack then, gazing down at the body of the man who was her father, even if he had never been allowed to fulfil that role. She fought back her own tears.

Zack sat on the ground and felt utterly useless. He had just watched as Jeremiah had died and did nothing.

The other Green Coven Witch who had been attacked stirred, groaning. Leonie went over to her, wiping away her tears and Zack heard the girl speak a muffled word, although he did not hear what it was.

With a blood stained hand, he touched Jeremiah's cheek. He wanted to say sorry, although he knew the words would never be heard and that there was nothing more he could have done. Even so, he still whispered them. It was really all he had to offer.

Ellie knew she should do something, but she had no idea what.

Grace knelt beside the other woman, a look of desperate futility lining her face. Helen was obviously declining rapidly.

"What can I do?" the girl said aloud.

With a dismal glance, Grace shook her head. "This poison must be very strong to not respond to my power. There is nothing to be done."

"Shall I try?" offered Ellie, sensing that time was running very short for the afflicted woman.

Even in this grave situation, still Grace found the ability to be both irritated and offended by the girl. "Do not presume," she chastised, "you are in above your head already."

But Ellie's mind returned to what she had done to both of these witches when they had challenged her before and she doubted the woman's words. "I'm going to try," she announced and set her concentration on Helen, who had begun to gently shake, her pallid skin breaking out in sweat.

Grace ignored her, apparently content to let her Sister succumb to a slow death.

"Antidote," the girl voiced, the sound small even in the quiet. Ellie felt the back of her neck tingling and knew that her SpiritHeart was responding to her, the connection between her being and the amulet indefinable but potent.

Helen's breathing was shallow, but her eyes fluttered open to stare up at Ellie. Time seemed to crawl by, each moment drawn out, the girl's hope and expectation caught in slow-motion.

Grace was holding the other witch's hand and squeezed it comfortingly, as if in commiseration.

"Not so hard," muttered Helen.

Ellie almost laughed. The woman's skin was regaining colour, the shaking had stopped.

With a look that revealed little pleasure or relief, Grace removed her hand from the other woman's and stood up. She regarded Ellie with something close to distaste. "It would seem you have saved her." It was a reluctant statement.

The girl made no reply. There didn't seem to be any point. But in her heart Ellie knew that what had just happened meant a great deal. It demonstrated at least one important fact.

She was stronger than Grace. Stronger than her and quite probably more powerful than Helen too.

With a meaningful glance at both woman, Ellie went to the door and taking care to avoid the poisoned needle, she turned the knob, now ready to take the lead.

Within was a room all in white and at its centre a glass cabinet. Nothing else but that. Ellie almost had to shield her eyes against the luminous glare of the walls and ceiling.

She stepped inside, only a few paces into the room, but no sooner had she done so than there was an automatic hiss and the door closed behind her. She spun around and tried to re-open it, but it was sealed shut.

Now she found herself separated from her companions. Alone. Her power against whatever defences protected the room. She would have her chance to prove herself sooner than she had expected or indeed, wanted.

She took a tentative step forward, scrutinising the glass cabinet ahead of her. But she could not see what was inside.

Now another sound broke the stillness, an electronic hum. Ellie paused to examine the interior, looking for potential threats. The entire room appeared clinical and unadorned by any kind of furnishing. And yet, there was a strange fluorescence upon the far wall. She peered at it, trying to make out if there was something there and even as she looked, it began to flicker slightly.

A face began to form in profile, the features indistinct, as if through some kind of filter. The image covered the entire wall. Ellie just stared, unsure what to make of it.

Then it spoke. "Welcome." It was a female voice, but there was something odd about it as if it was through a filter of some kind. It echoed around the interior, resonating through multiple hidden speakers. "So you have come to claim the amulet." She said this with what the girl considered to be quiet mirth."And yet," she continued, tone altering to one of muted disappointment, "I must apologise."

The girl waited for the phantom to explain, but there was only a lengthy silence. Finally, Ellie could not contain herself. "Apologise for what?" she demanded loudly.

The image distorted a little and still she could not make out very much about the identity of its owner. "For killing you, of course," the woman said matter-of-factly.

Zack carried Jeremiah's body back to the Green Coven. Leonie had insisted. His heart felt cold, as if something had died inside him. He couldn't think of anything to say to the girl so he remained silent. The night had become still too, only the occasional hoot of an owl or cry of a fox interrupting the eerie silence after so much commotion.

Outside the Coven House Zack halted and waited while Leonie went inside. After a few moments she returned accompanied by two of her fellow witches. Their faces were solemn and respectful. Obviously not all of these women were quite as ruthless as Abigail.

The first, a woman in her fifties, but with a pleasant countenance directed him towards the side of the building. "Take him to the storeroom please," she said mildly, "we will clean and dress him there."

Leonie's expression was bereft and Zack hated to see her look that way. He instinctively moved closer to her and took hold of her hand. "He was a good man," he offered tentatively, "and he did love you."

Her eyes were bright with emotion, but she kept a level gaze. "But he could never tell me that." It was a simple statement of fact. There was no place for such sentiments in Witch Town. No love encouraged between father and daughter. Zack understood that there was unspoken pain lurking beneath the doctrines of this community.

The boy carried Jeremiah's body to the storeroom and placed him carefully on a table. He did not linger to witness the woman begin their work to prepare the man for the grave. He could not bear to. With a brief nod at Leonie he left, knowing that it was a time for her to show this final respect to the man who had given her life. This realisation only made Zack feel all the more troubled and distraught. Was that woman actually human to have done such a thing?

He walked with little purpose through the night shadows of the town, a pale moon giving the buildings and fields a melancholy aspect that seemed to suit his mood perfectly. He saw no point in returning to his room. How could he ever hope to sleep after this? Perhaps he could go to the house Luke shared with his sister and see if his friend was awake. It might help to talk things through. Even though he was forbidden to visit Ellie's home, he really didn't care at that moment. In fact he almost wanted them to try to punish him, wanting to rebel against their tyranny. And surely Luke could not have slept through all of the night's disturbances.

Zack picked up his pace, heading off along a gravel path. The company of a friend, someone who was not one of them was what he needed now.

He turned a corner, intending to cross the town square where the witches displayed their gibbet with the hangman's noose, almost as if it was some kind of totem. But before he had taken even a dozen steps he came to a standstill.

The boy gazed ahead, his eyes drawn upward. What he saw left him sickened and disbelieving.

Where there had been one noose before, now there were many. Temporary structures had been assembled to stand beside the permanent gibbet in the square. And hung from each a figure swayed in the gloom. Like black cut-outs in the shape of men, illuminated by moonlight, Zack saw that there was at least a dozen.

Even though he could not see the faces of the men who had been executed, he knew that many of them would be the same he had encountered in that secret meeting he had shared with Jeremiah. The memory stirred dark feelings, the reality of what had occurred biting deep into his mind.

Jeremiah was just one more casualty and the witches had taken their retribution. Now they paraded those who had dared to challenge their authority for all to see as an example of Witch Town justice.

Zack bowed his head. The time for tears was past. And he vowed to himself that he would remember this scene. Remember it and use it to fuel his determination to fight back.

For those who would bear witness to this horrific spectacle in the light of tomorrow it would be a sobering sight. But for the boy seeing this now, while the night still held sway, alone as he was, it felt very personal. As if it was meant solely for him.

So Zack allowed himself to really look and draw upon its horror. It may be true that not all of the woman in this town were so cruel as those who had done this thing, but the boy knew that many of their ranks would never question the necessity of these actions. It was those witches who were his enemies. Not Leonie, or others like her, but woman like Abigail, murderous tyrants who must be opposed.

Jeremiah had tried. And lost his life in the process. Zack realised that the same outcome could easily await himself.

He turned aside from the perverse image before him and began to move away. Never forget, he told himself, a grim mantra. Never forget.

31

If Margaret wanted me to prove myself, I will show her that I'm stronger than even she suspects. So if this is a test like I think it must be, I intend to pass with flying colours. Which is not to say I've forgotten about finding help and getting Zack and the others out of Witch Town. All I'm saying is that I won't let these women think they are better than me, when the truth is they aren't. The more I use my SpiritHeart the more powerful I feel. And the stronger I get, the easier it is for me to show these witches who they're really dealing with.

"Who are you?" Ellie wanted to know, suppressing any sign of fear in her voice. Her faceless persecutor loomed very large before her but she would not be intimidated.

"Think of me as a collector of rare objects. I commend you for having come so far. Few others have managed it." The woman's strangely distorted voice set the girl on edge, the sound unearthly.

"What others!? Ellie questioned, keeping her tone steady.

She drew a little nearer to the glass cabinet, attempting to look inside and check its contents.

"Did you think you were the first? I would consider that to be naive. The amulet is a great prize is it not?"

Ellie felt irritation growing within her now. "Why?"

This was something that had been playing on her mind since Margaret had first told her the reason for this little field trip. What use was Rebecca's SpiritHeart anyway? Could someone else wear it if they retrieved it and to what purpose? It wasn't as if it would possess any special power. That came from the wearer, not the amulet itself.

This was greeted by silence. When the woman spoke again, her tone had changed, but she ignored the question. "I have seen everything that has occurred in my home tonight. It seems to me that you would not even be here if it were not for your companions."

Now the girl was really annoyed. "If you've really been watching, then you know I am stronger than they are. One of them would be dead now if it wasn't for me. I could have got this far on my own. So if you have any more traps up your sleeve, give it your best shot!" Ellie stood tensed for whatever might be thrown at her, but for the moment at least, nothing happened.

"Over confidence is a dangerous thing, you know. As is arrogance. And yet..." There was a lengthy pause. Ellie had approached close enough now to the cabinet to see within and saw that at its centre, set on a delicate cushion of red velvet, was indeed a pendant very much like the one she wore. The stone that hung from it was obviously cut from the same kind of translucent rock. Could this really have belonged to Rebecca? "Go ahead, why not open the cabinet. That's what you came for, is it not?" Ellie was baffled now. This really had to be a trick. She touched the glass lightly, as if expecting to sense something, but it was merely cool against her finger tips. There was a catch at the front of the cabinet and she lifted it gently, the lid rising so that Ellie could stare down at the amulet only a few inches away. "Take it," came the voice softly.

There it was, the first SpiritHeart. But Ellie was reluctant to reach down and pick it up. Something just wasn't right about this and she knew it.

She hesitated. "You seem eager for me to touch it," she observed, her eyes darting to the image on the far wall.

There was a low, distorted chuckle. "You are wise to be wary. But truly no harm will come to you."

Impulsively, Ellie snatched it up, surprising herself. But she had grown tired of games and there was an inner confidence in her now that made her feel strong, strong enough to face whatever this woman might have in mind.

She held the amulet between her fingers.

But it didn't feel right. The chain were too light, too insubstantial. She let her thumb move over the surface of the stone itself. The texture was wrong. "What is this?" she said, almost to herself.

"Work it out," came the disembodied voice.

"What?" the girl spoke in confusion, turning the SpiritHeart in her fingers. The chain didn't even feel like real metal.

"Fake." It was a single word and Ellie found herself bewildered by the truth of it. She looked from the amulet to the indistinct face observing her.

"What is going on here!?" Ellie was torn between exasperation and trepidation. She was at a loss to explain what any of this meant.

Another long silence, the featureless visage shimmering very faintly. Then an electronic buzz caught Ellie's attention and she feared the advent of another murderous device coming into play. But as she scanned the room with alert eyes, she was surprised to see a small doorway appear in a side wall, a panel sliding open with an audible hiss.

"Please," the image spoke to her, "join me. I would like to talk to you in person."

Luke had watched from his small window as the witches had led the men to their deaths like obedient lambs to the slaughterhouse. Except, their place of execution had been the town square. The boy understood that they had been under the women's influence; whatever Words they may have used was irrelevant. The men had not stood a chance.

He still watched through the glass as small fires burned and smoke drifted hazily through the air. Luke was a little worried that Zack might have been mixed up in it somehow, but he wasn't about to go out there and risk being rounded up alongside those other unfortunates. No, he would stay up here where it was safe. He was confident his friend wouldn't have been stupid enough to go along with what was after all, a complete waste of time.

Luke was no fool. He saw these witches for what they really were. Control freaks who didn't care who got hurt just as long as they held on to their precious power and control.

It disgusted him, just as his would-be wife disgusted him, for having bought into this obscenity.

So, Ellie could do magic, if that was what it really was and yes, that was completely insane, but he accepted it as fact. But where was her loyalty? She said all the right things, about helping them and sticking together, but when it came right down to it she was just too in love with her own importance. They had bought her just as if she were prostituting herself. Or at least that was the way Luke saw it.

He continued to stare out at the night, everything becoming quiet now, the last remnants of flame almost extinguished. The men that had survived had been sent packing, suitably chastised.

Luke hated it all. He felt a low ache of rage twisting inside. When it came time for him to make his move, he wouldn't make the same mistakes as those who had lost their lives tonight. He would have to be far more cunning.

Ellie let the counterfeit SpiritHeart fall from her fingers and back into the cabinet. Whatever the purpose of this deception she was determined not to be fazed by cheap theatrics.

Everything she had witnessed so far seemed designed to confuse and disorientate her. She would not give the perpetrator the satisfaction.

With a confident stride, she approached the doorway that had been opened to her and stepped inside, passing through into a long passageway with sleek metallic walls. Everything was silver here and had a reflective sheen. She continued on, her footsteps ringing out with a dull echo.

Despite everything that had already transpired, Ellie tried not to cloud her mind with unnecessary speculation. Whatever game was being played here, she would face her opponent and emerge the victor. Any sense of fear that might have lurked in her heart was fast diminishing.

Coming to a bend in the passage, she turned the corner to find a doorway, already open. Beyond dim light emanated from a shadowy chamber.

The possibility of more traps crossed Ellie's mind, but she brushed these ideas away. No turning back now.

She entered a room that was striking in its banality. Tastefully decorated with wooden panelled walls and paintings of various landscapes, there was no dominate colour as had been the case in every other part of the house. There was fire burning in a hearth, although for all Ellie knew it might well be an electric facsimile. Even so, it gave the place a pleasant golden glow. Before it were two high backed leather padded chairs. The girl stood and stared at them, wondering if it were possible that either were occupied. Her answer came soon enough.

"Why don't you come and join me," someone spoke to her, obviously from the chair to the right of the fire. Ellie started, not because the sound had taken her by surprise, but because she knew that voice.

Without hesitation she went forward to confront the speaker.

Margaret of the Black Coven sat comfortably relaxed in the flickering light of the flames, giving her an ethereal aspect. "Congratulations," she said affably, "You have passed your test. Very well done. Now please, sit and we can discuss the true assignment I have in mind for you."

There was a tentative knock on his door and Zack tensed, unsure what it could mean. He waited, trying to think who it might be and why they would come to him in the middle of the night. He was still dressed, laying back on his bed. Sleep would not be his companion on this terrible night.

He swung his legs around to sit on the side of the bed, staring anxiously at the door. "Who is it?" he ventured. Could it one of the men, come to question him or even perhaps to accuse him. Who knows how they would react to what had happened. The door opened slowly and even in the pale light Zack knew the slender form that entered. "Leonie," he said in a quiet kind of awe, hardly believing she were there despite the evidence of his eyes. She said nothing, only coming swiftly to him, burying herself in his arms and clutching him with such force and passion that Zack's breathing became noticeably faster. "I...," he began to say, but she stopped his lips with her own and as they kissed he knew that this was not a time for words.

He drew the girl onto the bed and pulled her closer still. And after this, the only sound he heard was a sweet murmuring, along with the drumming of his heart as it beat in perfect rhythm with Leonie's soft breath.

"You really should sit down, you have had a busy night."

Margaret's casual attitude was infuriating Ellie. "Are you completely out of your mind!?" the girl demanded to know, her eyes blazing.

"Is it so unreasonable to test our new Mothers if they show promise?"

Ellie was trying very hard to get her head around all of the implications of this latest revelation, but it was a struggle. "So what about Helen and Grace? Did they know all along?"

"Not at all," the old witch assured her, "they were as much at risk as you were. They proved themselves adequate to the task, at least until the end. Helen is in your debt."

"I don't care," snapped the girl, "What's the point of this!?" She stood before the fire, glaring down at the seated woman. The orange glimmer of the flames made her dark eyes flash as if sparks lived within. This image was very close to how she was feeling. Ellie wanted to grab this arrogant old woman and shake her. But with an effort she calmed herself.

"I needed to make it real or there would have been no test. As I said, you did very well, after a hesitant start," Margaret explained, her expression revealing barely suppressed mirth.

Ellie folded her arms, her temper flaring again. "So how did you get here!? Steal a car! Get a bus!?" She was so irritated by Margaret's flippant manner and try as she might, her tongue would not be silenced.

"I have my ways," the elderly witch replied enigmatically. "But that is hardly important. You will need to get some rest. I'm sure you are tired. I have already arranged for your companions to take rooms here for the night."

"Sleep? Here? Why should I?" Ellie didn't want to do anything that Margaret suggested. Her determination to defy the woman was becoming very difficult to resist.

"So you are going to wander off into the night?" The idea obviously amused the witch a great deal

"Our driver, the man who brought us here, he could take me back?" The girl was speaking without thinking now. She just wanted to put distance between them.

"Back," Margaret queried, "to Witch Town? Or do you mean your home?"

This stopped Ellie in her tracks and sobered her. "You wouldn't let me," she voiced, her mind turning rapidly, thoughts of Zack, then her mother, the house where she had lived all of her life whirling through her brain.

"Your life has Changed, Ellie. You need to come to terms with that. I know that you recognise the truth of it. You may fight against it, but it remains the truth."

The girl wasn't sure what to say. She knew the woman was right. She hated herself for even thinking it. But it could not be pushed away. "What do you want me to do?" It was a just a question, but it meant a great deal. She sensed in herself that it was a turning point. One of acceptance and transformation. She was a witch. She and Margaret were alike. Maybe not in their characters, but in their kindred bond with the SpiritHeart. It terrified her and it thrilled her.

"There is something we need. Our Coven needs. It is kept secure in a protected place. You will need to travel to the city of London. There you must go to the great Tower and retrieve a document of significant value to us. And be sure," she added with grave severity, "this will be no test."

With a look of incredulity, the girl gave just the briefest shake of her head. "The Tower of London," she said, "you have got to be kidding me!"

When Zack awoke he was alone.

He turned slowly over onto his side and rested his head on the pillow. He felt strange. At once amazed and restless. Something inside him had altered. It was as if his senses had shifted, changing to incorporate new sensations and feelings.

If he tried to think all he saw was Leonie's face. Her eyes, her lips, her mouth on his.

He sat up and grinned. He tried to stop but couldn't.

But he couldn't be happy for very long after what had happened. His heart was heavy, despite the deep emotion he felt for Leonie.

Jeremiah was still dead, along with all of those other men. He was trapped in this dreadful town.

Zack wasn't smiling anymore. It was all so much like a deranged dream. And yet, despite the sense of loss, of anger that simmered within, threatening to erupt, he had found something truly beautiful and he was damned if he was going to let it go.

Leonie's father had died, trying his best to do something right. Jeremiah had said he loved his daughter and Zack believed it. He might not have been able to show it, but the boy knew that those feelings had been real. Now it was up to him to show her that what she had been taught, the conditioning she had been exposed to since her birth, was wrong. He owed it Jeremiah and it owed it Leonie.

Not all the women of Witch Town were the same. And one in particular had become a part of him now.

Although Beth knew something had happened, she had no idea what. But she understood it was serious. Serious enough to get the Black Coven witches in a flap anyway. But what was far more significant to her was it was her first day and already she was in trouble.

A witch with an unusually long, chiselled nose had obviously taken a dislike to her and made it very plain she was not welcome there.

Beth had to listen meekly while she was instructed that she should speak when she was spoken to and follow orders without question. Beth's response to this, at least in her own mind, was fat chance.

Now, left to do some general housework; dusting and window washing, her favourites, she was trying to listen in on the conversations between the various witches who were milling about.

Words such as 'rebellion' and 'punishment' were the most common and Beth came to realise that there had been some kind of incident during the night. She couldn't find out any specific details, but what she really needed to know was whether Zack had been involved. She was very afraid for him.

And she knew him well enough to know that once he believed something was unjust he wouldn't just sit on the sidelines and watch. Beth supposed she ought to be concerned for Luke too, but the boy had been acting very strangely and she doubted he would have been part of it whatever had happened anyway.

But how was she going to find out anything. None of these women would give her the time of day.

Because her mind was distracted and she was worrying about Zack, she found herself standing absently, duster in hand, staring at a portrait of a black cloaked witch. She hadn't realised she was doing it until she felt a sharp pain on the side of her face. Wheeling around and dropping the cloth, she was faced by the nose from hell.

"No slacking," the witch chastised, looming over her. Her body was as thin and spindly as her nose Beth decided, her expression one of muted fury. "And do not look at me like that either." The woman raised her hand again as if to strike her and the girl stepped backwards ready to take evasive action.

"Are you having difficulties, Allison?" a voice enquired.

The witch turned abruptly, something akin to embarrassment passing briefly over her features, but she soon schooled herself to give a look of pleasant affability. "Not at all, Margaret. I am merely teaching this girl what we expect of her here. Her time in the White Coven may have given her inappropriate notions about her role. The Whites are known to be lax in their discipline."

Margaret glanced from Beth to the woman. She had come through the main doors from outside the Coven House and looked weary and dishevelled as if she not slept the previous night. "Indeed," she said coolly, smoothing her crinkled garments. "I will have to mention this to Abigail on your behalf. I would not wish The White Coven's reputation to suffer."

Allison's expression faltered at this and she blustered a little. "No, Margaret, please do not misunderstand me." She reached for the correct words and her eyes fell upon Beth as she did so. The girl saw in that momentarily look a terrible malice. She knew without question that she had made a very definite enemy and she had no idea how she had managed it.

"Perhaps I have misunderstood, Allison. Perhaps. But do you not have more pressing responsibilities to attend to. This girl is rather unimportant don't you think? Particularly in the current circumstances."

The other witch gave a slight bow and smiled demurely. "Of course. I apologise. I will take your leave if I may."

"You may," Margaret allowed and watched her walk away, the woman's stride purposeful and to Beth's eyes, a bit stroppy. But now she was alone with Margaret and in some ways she almost preferred the sharp nosed bully. It was a close call. "Interesting painting," Margaret observed, nodding at the portrait Beth had inadvertently found herself in front of.

"I wasn't really looking at it," the girl said, keeping her voice neutral.

"Really?" the witch remarked. "Perhaps you should. Your friend has gone to a great deal of effort to secure your place here. It might be in your best interest to learn about our history. Ellie of the Black Coven," she said this with very deliberate intent, "may be destined for great things in this House. If you hope to remain one of us, in whatever humble capacity, you would be wise to offer your full and undiluted loyalty."

"I am loyal to Ellie," Beth shot back, without really considering her words.

Margaret gave a shallow smile. "And yet loyalty is such a fragile thing. Today's friend is tomorrow's inconvenience. Allegiances shift, bonds are rarely as sturdy as they seem. It is said that everyone has a price. But often the price is really very cheap."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Beth felt extremely uncomfortable under the woman's unnerving gaze.

"You came here as four. Now are you three? Two? Or just one? Where are you comrades now? They look after themselves. Even at your expense." Margaret's smile faded and her expression became one of casual menace. "Know your place in Witch Town, girl. Learn quickly. Here in the Black Coven you are mine to control, mine to use. And I will do so. Sooner or later I will do so."

32

I get to go to London. Really? And guess what? My buddies, Helen and Grace get to tag along. Crazy or what!?Margaret says we need to steal something from the Tower of London! No seriously, that's what I'm supposed to be doing. I know, I've finally slipped over the edge in La-la-land! Being a witch has its advantages I guess, but just now, I'm not sure what they are. And if we get caught, I'm pretty sure any trouble I thought I was in will seem small fry compared to where I will end up.

The idea was simple enough.

They would go into the Tower of London as tourists, take the guided tour, get into a place called St John's Chapel, hide until everyone had moved on and then work out where the secret entrance to an underground vault was.

That was the plan as outlined by Margaret during the night. A piece of cake obviously.

Although Ellie had not slept at all well and had experienced fitful dreams when she did, by the time dawn had arrived she had come to terms with some very difficult truths. In the pale light of the early morning, as she prepared to embark on this insane assault on one of England's most famous landmarks, Ellie mulled over the words she had exchanged with the elder witch.

"I know you have had thoughts of trying to find help for your friends," the old woman had spoken with a wry expression. The girl said nothing. "But you should know that it would prove to be a poor course of action on your part."

Ellie played it cool. "Why do you say that?"

"Because an edict has been agreed by each Coven that should you do so, upon the first sign of any attempt to invade our territory, each of your friends would be executed. Did it not occur to you that this might be the case?"

Her show of composure lost, Ellie fumbled for a response. "They...you, would do that?"

Margaret gave a low chuckle. "And why not? Any betrayal would be seen as unforgivable. You are a Mother. Never forget that. Your so-called friends are hostages to your reputation now. Rise and they will no doubt survive and prosper. Fall and they fall with you."

The girl thought this over for a time. "So why haven't you done this before, gone to the Tower, if you knew where this thing you want was all along?" Ellie asked, changing the subject. She understood that she had been naive to think it would be so easy to challenge the dominion of Witch Town and get her friends out. It seemed certain now that she would need to work from within to help them.

The elderly woman had acknowledged her with a studious nod. "There is a ward on the object we seek that means it cannot be handled by anyone born in Witch Town."

The girl was unconvinced by this explanation. "Why?"

"Because," Margaret informed her briskly, "there is a contract between the original Mothers of Witch Town and the Crown, a covenant to prevent us from challenging the status quo. It is this that prevents us from extending our influence beyond our borders. They feared us in the past and they fear us now. After Rebecca's death we were in disarray and many voices clamoured to be heard. The louder voices called for security above expansion. So a treaty was brokered between the witches and the representatives of the King."

"It's a Queen now," Ellie observed, but Margaret's steely countenance told her that she was not interested.

"King or Queen makes no difference. It is long past time that we took our rightful places in the world. It was always Rebecca's goal and I have waited all my life to see it come to fruition."

"So what are going to do with it if we get it, this document?"

Margaret smiled, a darkly humourless visage. "Destroy it."

Walking out into the daylight, knowing the grisly spectacle that was in the town square, Zack wasn't sure how he should act or feel.

Leonie was waiting for him, but so were Allana and Luke. Were they really supposed to just carry on as if nothing had happened.

He eyed his friend, trying to work out how much he knew, but Luke's expression was sullen and he would not meet his eyes.

Leonie's face was flushed and every time she looked at him, it was as if some kind of electricity passed between them. He tried his best to not make it too obvious how desperate he was to be close to her, to touch her, but try as he might, he found himself always moving near to her, their arms brushing together, their gazes intense.

Allana gave them both several appraising looks that spoke of suspicious disapproval.

Zack knew it was best not to speak to Leonie about anything personal at that time and kept his conversation general and work related. Before long, he was busy watering and weeding plants while the two young woman sat together twenty yards away observing.

Luke laboured alongside him and Zack spoke to him in a whisper. "Do you know what happened last night?"

The other boy shrugged slightly as he continued with his appointed tasks. "The witches strung up some men up in the Town Square for being naughty. Does that cover it!?"

Zack almost stopped what he was doing to stare at his friend. "It's no joke," he hissed, "Jeremiah was killed as well."

Luke didn't seem particularly moved by this. "That's what you get for being stupid."

Now Zack did pause, his expression bleak. "He didn't even do anything. He was trying to stop them." The boy glanced over at the girls, but they were engaged in animated conversation and were not paying them any attention, at least for the moment.

Luke pulled some offending roots from the ground and tossed them into the basket he was carrying. "So were you out there too? If you were you should count yourself lucky they didn't lynch you as well."

"What is it with you now days," Zack asked with a heavy sigh of aggravation, "why all the attitude?"

This got a reaction from the other boy and he halted his own work , a subdued anger simmering in his eyes. "Attitude," he countered, "You think this is attitude!? Since when have you got so cosy with these people? Jeremiah was one of them, or have you forgotten? And so are they." He gestured over at their two chaperones. "Maybe you're getting a bit too comfortable here. Maybe you are starting to forget who your real friends are. Just like your sister!"

"Watch your mouth," barked Zack and finally Leonie and Allana looked over at them.

"And you watch your back," Luke told him with a glare of such intense loathing that Zack had to turn away. What was going on here, that his friend had developed such a level of mistrust and resentment. It really scared him to see it.

"Is that some kind of threat?" he asked carefully.

Luke held his gaze for several uncomfortable moments. "Just a friendly warning," he offered. "From one friend to another."

Some friend, thought Zack, but he stayed quiet. He didn't want to make things any worse than they already were. But he was very disturbed by his friends words. Whether it was spoken out of frustration or a growing sense of alienation, Zack didn't know. But whatever the reason, it troubled him deeply.

Gazing into the eyes of the boy he had known for so long and considered to be his closest friend in the world, it had been like looking at a stranger. The same features as before, the same facade, but something had altered. Zack tried to shake the feeling off, attempting to rationalise it away. But it was very hard to dismiss.

Zack felt a cold chill creep stealthily up his spine. And of all of the terrible things that had occurred since they had come to this place, just at that moment, this seemed by far the worst.

The man and his car were gone. Whether he had just come to his senses, confused at why and where he was and went on his way, Ellie couldn't say. Or maybe it had been Margaret who had dealt with him. It really made no difference.

She, Helen and Grace were now expected to make their way to London. The girl went over the practical details in her mind. Getting there was one thing, but returning was also a very real consideration. She had queried this with Margaret and the witch had written down a post code on a piece of paper for her. Ellie had found this bizarre and incongruous. Surely Witch Town didn't receive mail! But she accepted it anyway, understanding that she had no way of knowing how to get back otherwise. When the four of them had first started out on their so-called holiday, she had paid very little attention to where they were going or where they ended up.

Ellie began to consider other issues, tying to cover all eventualities and glanced over at her two companions with a rueful look, taking in their attire. She gave a very definite frown.

"You do know we will stand out like sore thumbs looking like this," she pronounced.

The women just stared back at her and the girl rubbed at her chin. "Have you got any money?"

Although Helen was far less assertive with Ellie now than before, Grace still had an air of haughty superiority when she spoke. "Why!? We have no need of it."

Ellie gave a sigh at this. "We will need different clothes if we are going to do this. Surely we don't want to attract unnecessary attention."

Helen gave Grace a quick look as if to assess her reaction. "She is probably right," she offered.

The other witch seemed quite put out that her companion would chose to side with Ellie. "So," she asked irritably, "what do you suggest?"

The girl gave just a flicker of a smile. "Let's go shopping."

"It has begun," Isobel told her subordinate in a tone that suggested both anticipation and disquiet.

Miriam sat opposite her, waiting for the instructions she knew must come.

The situation had escalated far beyond anything she had expected. The knowledge of what may be about to come to pass filled her with an overriding sense of awe.

But she was also terribly afraid. The implications were monumental. "Who should we send?"

"I would go myself, but it would be too conspicuous. Margaret at the very least would suspect."

Miriam became even more uneasy. "This is very dangerous for all of us. What if we are unsuccessful?"

With an expression of hungry desire, Isobel made it obvious that she did not consider this to be an option. "The Red Coven will not accept failure. For any reason. We will send three. That seems fair, don't you think? The odds will be even."

The other witch seemed less certain. "They are strong," she observed, "and the new Mother, she is unpredictable."

Isobel considered these words for a few seconds. "Take two of our Sisters with you. Two who are accomplished in combat. That should be sufficient."

"Me?" Miriam asked, clearly astonished.

"Yes, you," directed Isobel with firm assurance. "You are my right hand, are you not? Who better for me to rely upon. This is more important to our House than any undertaking in our history. You should be honoured."

The younger witch swallowed and tried her best to maintain a show of composure. She was only partially successful. "I am, Isobel, of course. But..."

"Do what must be done," interrupted the other woman. "They will be no match for us anyway. They are so full of their own self-importance, but they have always been weaker. And you will have the advantage of surprise. They will have no reason to expect you."

Miriam nodded tentatively. "I will not fail you or our Coven," she stated, her voice more resolute now, her conviction set firm. She was completely devoted to the Red Coven and all of her Sisters.

And she was powerful, strong enough to one day succeed Isobel as Head of their House. Her success in this matter would no doubt do much to support any such future claim.

"Make the arrangements immediately," Isobel ordered her. "Let the Glory belong to the Red Coven."

Miriam's expression was fierce. But ambition and fear vied within. "The Red Coven," she repeated with only just the slightest trepidation in her voice.

"Do you know, I think I remember my dear Mother saying to me, Gladys, don't you ever pick wild berries. Not only might you poison yourself, but you could soil your dress. She was a great one for cleanliness, you know. Said it was second only to the Lord. I can see her now, in her white apron standing in the kitchen, as clear as day. She was always baking cakes. My favourite was cherry pie. Homemade pie is the best don't you agree..."

"Sleep," said Grace and the elderly woman next to her immediately closed her eyes and was gently snoring within seconds. On the other side of her, Helen gave a gentle sigh of relief.

In the front of the car, Ellie sat beside the middle-aged woman who was driving them on a country road in what she hoped was the general direction of London. The elderly figure who dozed in the back was most probably her mother, although they hadn't bothered with introductions. One thing was for sure though, just this once she and Grace were in complete agreement. Ellie would be very happy if there was no more talk for the rest of the journey.

They motored on, passing a signpost that had definitely seen better days. 85 miles to London it signalled. And then she would find out just how far her new power would be able to take her. In and out of the Tower she hoped, although the thought had crossed her mind on several occasions recently that getting in might be the easy part. Getting out again might be a little more problematic.

Already Beth was seriously questioning if she hadn't been better off with the White Coven. The boys who acted as servants for the Blacks were even more obsequious and clearly wanted nothing to do with her. The very idea of a female working alongside them seemed to offend them deeply.

And what was worse, she had made an enthusiastic enemy in Allison. Everything Beth did was scrutinised by the witch and found to be inadequate. It was driving her crazy. Beth had come so close to throwing her dustpan and brush at the woman, that she had to grip them with painfully tightening fingers and nails to stop herself.

Now she was working with a younger boy of perhaps thirteen or so who said his name was Michael. He was pleasant enough in a fawning, pathetic kind of way and the girl decided that she would try to get some information out of him about what had been going on outside.

"So what was all the fuss about last night..." She searched for something to add that might sound more friendly. "Mike," she finished with her best winning smile.

The boy gave a slight scowl. "My name is Michael," he told her curtly.

"Oh," Beth replied, "I see. I'm sorry. Okay, Michael." She came a little closer to him and he shot her an anxious look. "But do you know what's been going on?"

Michael moved a few steps away, obviously uncomfortable at the girl's close proximity. "Some of the Husbands were punished," he informed her without any sign of distress or concern.

"What do you mean, punished?"

"They were hung by the neck. It was a lesson." The boy said this in a matter-of-fact way and Beth just stared at him in shock.

"A lesson for who?" she managed to ask, her mind racing now, afraid that Zack might have been among them.

"For all of us," Michael said as if it was obvious. "For all of the Husbands and the Sons. To remind us of our place in Witch Town."

Beth thoughts were a jumble of dread, horror and rage. "Do you know my friends, the ones I came here with? They weren't part of it, were they?"

The boy named Michael continued with his work and Beth thought that he had no intention of answering. But when he finally did, she wished he had kept his silence. "Maybe," he said, "maybe they were there. And if they were, then good riddance. They would have deserved to die along with all of the other traitors."

It was all Beth could do not to cry out then. If anything had happened to Zack she wasn't sure she would be able to go on with this. And where was Ellie?

She had come here thinking that it would be better to at least to be closer to her friend. But she felt just as alone as ever. And her fear was growing, a ravenous thing that fed on her spirit, that occupied her heart.

She was at its mercy and it would not be denied.

33

Well this should be a shopping trip to remember. Trying to kit out Helen and Grace will be a fashion challenge if ever there was one. What should we go for? Smart casual, the geeky look or maybe something glam! It's a real dilemma! If there was ever a time for a little humour, this has to be it. My life has become totally insane. But what can I do? So if I'm going to die, I might as well go out looking good . Which brings me to the most pressing question. Skirt or jeans. I know, you don't have to say a word. I need to get a grip. I need to focus. So...skirt?

It was Ellie's idea to go into the bank, queue up at the counter and then tell the cashier she would like some money. Well, to be more precise, use a Word of Power on the young woman who worked there. Control seemed to do the trick.

Ellie decided not to be too greedy and withdrew a thousand pounds. It occurred to her that she could has requested any amount that came to mind, but she didn't want to draw unwanted attention and a thousand would be plenty for their purposes. Even so, she felt a thrill of excitement about getting hold of what was a fortune as far as she was concerned. Before now, she had become pretty excited at having fifty pounds in her purse, let alone this much cash. She did have to concede that she was experiencing some pangs of guilt. After all, it was theft and she wasn't the kind of person who stole things, but her need was greater than her conscience, so it just had to be done.

After that, it was off to the nearest department store. The three witches drew many curious glances and some unequivocal stares. Ellie decided she would be glad when they were dressed to blend in a little more.

Even so, it proved a lot more difficult to persuade the two older woman to try on some of the clothing she picked out for them. Their distaste at what they considered to be immodest and overly revealing dresses caused Ellie a great deal of argument and cajoling. But eventually they all found suitable outfits that met the girl's criteria for not standing out too much.

Also, there had been the initial insistence on everything having to be black to counter.

Eventually, Grace had settled on a rather formal high necked dress in dark blue with black pumps. It was the best compromise they could agree on. Ellie had managed to talk Helen into some beige slacks and a reasonably fashionable green blouse, although of course there were mutterings about betraying their Coven by wearing the colour of a rival. Ellie thought it all very petty and silly, but did her best to talk them both around. For herself, she chose a pleated Blue skirt and a blue top. But any thoughts of admiring her new look were soon set aside as they began to make their way through the busy London streets towards the Tower.

Once they got inside they didn't really have any kind of clever plan. They would just locate the chapel, find the hidden entrance to the vault, get the document and then get out. Sounded very straight forward. If only she really believed it would be, Ellie found herself thinking.

Zack was taking a break and unsurprisingly Luke had put as much distance between them as possible. The other boy was laying on a glass verge with his hands behind his head, the afternoon sun beating down upon him.

The one good thing to come of this was that Allana had now taken up station close to him, leaving Leonie alone with Zack.

"What were you talking about earlier?" Zack asked her, keeping his voice low. They sat on some bales of straw stacked beside one of the numerous barns that were situated around the town.

He found it very difficult not to reach out and touch her, but he knew it was too dangerous. The frustration that he felt was maddening nonetheless.

The girl looked at him and there were conflicting emotions in her green eyes. "Allana has many questions about you. She is far too inquisitive about our relationship, despite the fact that she believes it to be a mercenary one on my part. I think she finds it...titillating." The boy tried not to laugh and managed to mask it with a cough. Leonie gave him a dark look. "It is no laughing matter. Do not forget that I have forfeited my honour."

Now Zack's expression became grave. "I'm sorry. I really am. I'm just finding all of this very hard to get my head around." He reached out and took her hand, glancing quickly about to make sure no one was watching. "I hate it that I've caused you so many problems."

The girl squeezed his hand and then released herself from his grasp. "We must be very careful," she told him softly. "After last night, there are even more eyes turned towards the men. And that includes you. It has been noted that you were involved, even if you did not side with the rebels."

"Neither did Jeremiah," the boy said without thinking, a bitter note in his voice.

The young witch gazed at him with a sorrow that made Zack's heart ache. "No my father did not and yet he is dead."

"Because your Mother killed him." Zack saw no point in pretending otherwise. He loved this girl and whatever pain she was experiencing was now his to share.

Leonie looked down at the ground. "Abigail of the White Coven may be my birth Mother, but no more than that. I am a great disappointment to her. I did not choose to follow her because I never want to be like her. Now more so than ever."

"I'm proud of you for that," the boy said gently, meaning it.

Her eyes met his then and there was just a glimmer of a tear in the corner of her eyes. "No one has ever been proud of me. I have always been a failure."

"No," Zack stated forcefully. "Jeremiah didn't believe that. And neither do I."

As real tears rolled over her cheeks, Leonie gave a slow shake of her head. "I want to be faithful to my Coven, but how can this be right. He was innocent of any crime. Why did she do it? To hurt me, to punish me? Why? I don't understand."

Zack could bear it no longer. He got up and went to her and held her tightly against him, stroking her hair. "There are things happening here that are very wrong. But you're not part of that. I know you're not. But things have to change, one way or another. Murdering your father, killing those men, this is madness."

Leonie's face was close against his chest, but he still heard her words. "But how can I stand against my own Sisters and everything I have been taught since I was a child? This is all I know." She pulled away a little and looked up at the boy. "I know you don't understand, but how could you. Witch Town is not your home."

Zack struggled to know how to continue. He didn't want to hurt her anymore than she already had been, but he could not pretend that there was nothing more to be said. "You're right," he began carefully, "I don't understand. I don't understand why the men are treated like slaves, why the women abuse the power they have. This thing you can do, these Words, it's amazing, it's incredible! But why aren't you using it to do good, to help people. When I think how much you could do outside." He paused as the magnitude of what he was saying hit him. "Why are you doing this, staying in here, hidden away? Why aren't you using this power, whatever it is, to benefit everyone, the whole human race?" His face was flushed, his throat felt dry.

Leonie gazed at him, her expression hard to read. "We are bound," she said, "I thought that you knew."

Now Zack was confused. "Bound by what?"

"Bound not to interfere in the dealings of the Crown or the government."

The boy didn't know what to think. It made no sense. "Why? By who?"

Shielding her eyes from the sun as it began to set, an orange sphere on the horizon, Leonie gave her reply. "To honour the contract between Witch Town and the King. So that we can live our lives in peace without persecution."

Ellie didn't really know what she had expected, but once inside the Tower of London she was surprised to find that they could wander about unsupervised.

Although there were guides and employees about, they were able to make their way without incident following convenient signs towards St John's Chapel. It was located in a separate building known as The White Tower.

There were many tourists milling around, perusing the historic site, but the three women were intent on their goal and moved on purposefully. Nobody seemed to take any notice of them, despite their obvious disinterest in anything on display. However, she became slightly anxious when she caught the gaze of a middle aged man dressed casually in shirt and jeans. There was something in his regard that gave her a sense of apprehension, but then he had moved away, becoming lost among the other visitors. Ellie knew she needed to keep a firm grip on her nerves.

So far so good she concluded, but something nagged away at the back of her mind.

Why her? Why now? And should she be doing this at all? Margaret was using her, manipulating her and she just went along with it like a trained pooch. Her mind moved to her brother and Beth and then to Luke. Could she ever free them from Witch Town?

"Here," Grace instructed, breaking the girl's reverie and Ellie saw that there was a sign directing them to the Chapel.

They moved along a passageway, passing groups of sightseers. Children trudged along beside parents, some entranced by the mystery of the place, others obviously there under duress. Foreign holidaymakers could be heard enthusiastically in conversation.

The witches moved ahead and at last entered what was a relatively small chamber. Even so, St John Chapel was impressive with an altar at one end, lit by a window behind it. Other windows beside and above shed beautiful light on the pale bricked interior. All around the room there were stone columns that gave the place an imposing, majestic air.

The only thing that spoilt the scene as far as Ellie was concerned was the fact there were at least a dozen other people there with them, some sitting on wooden seats before the altar, apparently in spiritual devotion. Very inconvenient.

Grace looked from the assembled group to others behind them, who were entering the chapel. "We need some privacy," she observed and Helen nodded her agreement.

Without hesitation the witch went to stand in front of the altar and regarded all of those seated. No-one gave her a second glance as she glared at them, but this was soon rectified when Grace clapped her hand twice loudly. The sound resonated around the chamber and all eyes now focused on the woman who stood before them.

Even those who were simply wandering around the tall columns inspecting the stonework and architecture came to a standstill and looked to see what the noise was all about.

"Can I please have your attention," Grace announced. No one spoke, everyone there waiting politely. Maybe they thought she was some kind of guide. "Control," the Witch invoked, her eyes full of self-confidence.

Ellie watched as those seated near to the witch took on slack, vacant expressions, but she also noted that others merely appeared irritated or bemused.

She realised that Grace's power had its limits. "We need to help," she told Helen quickly and to her credit the woman did not question this, understanding what needed to be done.

"Control," Helen called out in a resonant voice. More of those present now had blank expressions, as if not really knowing where they were.

But still others, particularly a stout woman in her fifties, were becoming distinctly agitated. "What's going on here!?" she asked, her eyes moving from Grace to Helen.

Two teenage boys also seemed unaffected and had a look that suggested they were caught in two minds between making a run for it or sticking around to see what happened next.

Ellie concentrated her mind. She focused on the chamber, the people within. There was a soft tingling at the back of her neck, her spirit eager to respond to her call. "Obey," she uttered and there was a movement in the air, as if a breeze had passed through the chapel. Now there was complete silence. The girl glanced around at everyone present and saw that all eyes were turned to her. It was an unnerving sight.

Both Grace and Helen looked too, although their expressions were not the intent, focused countenances of everyone else who gazed at the girl. The look on their faces was something very different.

Both witches were simply in awe.

Abigail and Margaret were alone in the library. Tall bookcases flanked them on every side. They were quite alone.

There was a palpable tension between them, but their features remained impassive.

"What are you up to?" the White Coven witch asked evenly.

The older woman raised an eyebrow. "You suspect something, Abigail?"

With a fleeting smile, Abigail nodded. "I do."

"But what?" Margaret eyed her with open curiosity.

"Do not play your games with me, Margaret. I know you too well."

The other witch considered this and then replied. "Do you? Are you sure of that?"

Now Abigail's expression became intense. "Whatever it is, be careful. Be certain that you are not going in over your head. Any truce there is between us will be very short lived if you should break our pact."

Margaret nodded solemnly. "You have no need to worry, my friend. I would not risk conflict between us. You have my word on that."

With a narrowing of her eyes, Abigail scrutinised the other witch's face, as if trying to look inside her to discern the truth of her words. "So where is the new Mother. Where is Ellie?"

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Margaret responded. "She needs training, does she not. I have my own methods. I have sent her out to test her mettle. No more than that. You would do the same."

Again, Abigail gazed attentively at her counterpart. "Perhaps. But there is more activity than usual beyond our borders. The Reds have also sent three Mothers out on some flimsy pretence. I do not like it."

"The Reds?" Margaret asked with a show of interest. "Who from the Red Coven? Isobel herself?"

Abigail gave a calculating look, noting the subtle change in Margaret's tone. "No, but Miriam has gone. Are you really certain there is nothing I should know?"

The elderly witch held the other woman's gaze and her eyes sparkled with sincerity. "There are no secrets between you and I Abigail. None at all."

34

I seem to remember reading somewhere that people used to get locked up in the Tower of London. Or was that just while they were waiting to be executed? I'm not really sure. But I don't fancy either possibility. What really bothers me is what Margaret's going to do after she destroys this contract I'm supposed to be finding for her. Does that mean everyone will get to leave Witch Town and be reintegrated into society. It doesn't sound very likely. I've got a bad feeling about this, but what can I do? Margaret made it crystal clear that Zack and the others are at risk. And protecting them has to be my priority. Whatever the cost.

"Go and do some shopping," Ellie ordered everyone present. It seemed like a reasonable suggestion.

Without hesitation, wherever they were situated in the chapel, people began to leave. Their expressions were almost serene, content to go on their way.

They shuffled out in an orderly fashion as if going on some kind of organised field trip.

Helen approached the girl, a strange light in her eyes. "I did not think that was possible. To control so many at once."

Ellie brushed the woman's obvious admiration aside, intent on getting on with the job at hand. "We need to do this as quickly as possible." The other witch nodded and Ellie sensed that there had truly been a change in the relationship between them now. She was in charge. Even Grace looked to her for direction and Ellie couldn't help but like the feeling it gave her. She was only human after all. "I think you should keep watch," she said to Helen, "and stop any more people coming in until we've finished. Okay?" The witch nodded dutifully and went to the entrance to take up a position as sentry. "So how are we going to find a way in?" Ellie mused aloud, not really to anyone in particular.

Grace was beside her now and she too seemed to have a different attitude towards the girl. "Let me try," she offered, but there was a slightly more deferential tone to her words.

"Be my guest," the girl agreed.

"Open," the woman uttered, her SpiritHeart responding to her voice. They waited expectantly, but nothing stirred, nothing changed. The chamber was very quiet. Grace looked disappointed and perhaps even a little embarrassed.

Ellie screwed up her face as she considered the problem. She scanned the interior, the pale stonework, the ancient workmanship. Light streamed in through the windows and bathed her in a golden radiance.

Then she grinned.

Wasn't this exactly the same as when she was in Margaret's room. Something was concealed and she needed to find it. She had managed it once and really this was just on a slightly more extravagant scale.

Ellie fixed her concentration on the chamber, on the pillars that surrounded her, letting the place fill her senses. "Reveal," she voiced and she heard a low rumbling begin from over by the stone altar as it began to slide forward.

The girl moved towards it, Grace close behind, as the altar came to a halt and she saw that there was a narrow stairwell beneath where the stone had originally stood. "After you," she suggested with a quick smile. She felt powerful, vibrant and alive. It was an amazing sensation and she was acutely aware of how much she was enjoying herself. It gave her such a buzz.

Grace showed no reluctance in stepping down into the dimly lit passage, her features set with purposeful intent.

With a quick glance back at Helen, Ellie followed, down into earth and stone.

Seeking something long hidden.

Zack was trying very hard to get on with Luke, but every time he attempted to be friendly, the other boy made it clear that he wasn't interested. Moody just didn't cover it.

The two girls watched them as they fed and watered some of the town's livestock. The atmosphere between all four was taut with unspoken tension.

One more go, decided Zack and he turned to face his friend. "Remember that time we almost got caught getting our ball back from that house next to the park?" It was just one of the many times they had shared a mini adventure together and Zack really missed their camaraderie. Luke had always been such a good friend. This distance and animosity that was growing between them was really hurting him.

Luke glanced up from his work. He had a strained expression, as if he were at odds with his own emotions. "I remember," he mumbled.

The other boy took encouragement from this and pressed on. "I really thought we were going to get caught. You were such an idiot. You never could kick a ball to save your life!"

There was a moment when Zack believed the other boy was going to ignore him and continue sullenly with his chores. But then Luke gave a grunt. "If you hadn't ducked out of the way, it would never have gone over there in the first place."

Zack chuckled and it was a very good feeling. "I had to or you would have taken my head off!"

The boys were gazing at each other now, dust covered and dirty, sweat clinging to their skin. Slowly, uneasily, Luke began to smile. But it was a genuine, good natured show of humour. It was the first time for a long while. "I thought you said I couldn't kick a ball!"

His friend shook his head. "I meant on target."

"What makes you think I wasn't aiming for your head!?"

And then they both laughed. It was a release. A letting go of more than just what had happened between them. And it was sorely needed.

Leonie and Allana peered at them, not knowing what to make of it and both had identical expressions of bemusement.

And when Zack and Luke looked over at them this only made them laugh all the harder.

Beneath the chapel another chamber awaited them, dank and dimly lit. It was obvious no one had been there for a very long time, cobwebs and moss growing on the stone walls and ceiling. In this hidden place Ellie saw a large wooden chest against the far wall. There was nothing else to speak of. The chest appeared forgotten sitting there as it was. Could this really be the resting place of what Margaret considered to be such an important document, the contract made between the witches and those who governed the land beyond the borders of Witch Town? It seemed so off-handed as if it was of little importance.

Grace stood beside the girl regarding the chest with puzzlement. "Well, aren't you going to open it?" she asked, clearly impatient to complete the task that had brought them there.

Ellie hesitated. "Does this feel right to you?" Maybe it was a stupid question, but she could not shake the sense that something didn't add up.

"It's a little late for nerves now, don't you think?" the woman commented with a tinge of disappointment. Her new-found admiration for Ellie was obviously waning. And saying this, she moved to where the chest sat and taking hold of a silver clasp that secured it shut, she made to lift the lid.

Grace did not get very far. There was a flash of white light, blinding Ellie, despite the gloom. For several moments she struggled to see, rubbing her eyes. Finally as clarity returned, the girl stared at where her companion had stood. Only the chest remained. There was no sign of Grace.

Ellie stepped forward quickly, turning her head from left to right, expecting the witch to be over in one of the corners of the room, perhaps dazed or even injured. But she was quite alone.

It was then that she noticed some fragments or debris just in front of the wooden casket. Gazing down at them in consternation, Ellie knelt to take a closer look and then shot bolt upright as she saw what they were. She felt bile rise in her throat and gagged a little, taking two rapid steps backward.

She hadn't needed to examine the remnants of black cloth and what she now understood to be charred flesh to know that Grace was indeed there in the chamber with her. What was left of her anyway.

The girl held her hand over her mouth, her eyes very wide. She was fighting the strong desire to turn and run.

But she steadied herself and moved tentatively back towards the chest, trying to skirt around Grace's remains. It was true that there was no love lost between the two of them, but she had meant the woman no harm. It shocked her to think that the witch had been killed in such a terrible way right in front of her.

She had been so stupid she realised then. Why hadn't she told Grace not to touch it. Margaret had said that only someone not born in Witch Town could take the document, but it never occurred to her that whatever protected it might have such a devastating effect.

Now Ellie had to think carefully. Could she really be sure that if she tried to open the chest the same thing wouldn't happen to her. Had Margaret been telling the truth? When she thought about in dispassionately, she only had the elderly witch's assurances about any of this. Was it all some twisted story created to further test her?

There was only way to find out.

Ellie took hold of the silver clasp and lifted the lid. It came up easily enough.

This time there was no flash of destructive light. Only the distant sound of dripping water, somewhere in the walls. She looked down into the chest and saw that it was empty.

She stared, puzzled. Then she checked the interior more carefully and saw that yes, there was something, a tan coloured piece of cloth pushed into one corner. Ellie reached in and took it.

It was soft to the touch and felt like some kind of animal skin. It was only perhaps ten inches in length and less than half that in width. It was rolled into a tube and very carefully Ellie inspected it, moving her fingers gently over its smooth surface.

With great reverence she began to unfurl it and looked down expectantly as symbols and words became legible. The lettering was strange in many places and she had great difficulty in understanding the script, but she did so as best she could in the dull light of the secret chamber.

This covenant...name themselves witches...hath taken residence...known at Witch Town... hinder the good offices...King and all his rightful heirs...this pact endures shall suffer grievous harm...to hell's fire...who should endeavour to remove this contract...bind all offspring...the King promises...denizens shall be left unmolested.

This was as much as she could decipher and beneath the writing were a number of signatures, one of which Ellie believed to be James the first, King of England.

She held this ancient document in her hands and marvelled at it. So it was actually true, the witches had made a deal with the Crown to allow themselves to live in safety and anonymity. Ellie supposed that it had been a compromise they were willing to make, particularly during a time when anything remotely connected to witchcraft was treated as an abomination and was punishable by death.

Whatever their reasons, the witches had signed this contract to guarantee that they would keep to themselves and live a relatively isolated existence. But as Ellie considered this further, she saw that it also meant that the King and his advisors had been afraid of what the witches were capable of.

For now though, she just really needed to get out of there. The gloomy chamber had become unbearable and the gruesome sight of Grace's corpse, what little there was of it, laying only a few feet distance, was enough to motivate her to get moving.

As she began to climb the stairs and make her way back up to the chapel she wondered how she was going to explain to Helen what had happened down there. She didn't know how close the two women had been, but all of the Coven members appeared to be invested in their 'Sisters'. Ellie knew it wasn't going to be an easy conversation.

But when she came out of from below the altar into the sun lit chapel she never got an opportunity to find out.

Sprawled on the stone floor lay Helen's still and lifeless body.

35

I have come face to face with death. Not in the way you do when a relatives dies, but in a very raw, in your face way that is shocking and horrifying. I feel my heart and my mind reeling, but I can't change the way things are. The life I'm leading now is a billion miles away from anything I used to know. And I don't feel like a girl anymore. I am a witch and I will need to really tap into the power inside me if I'm going to avoid ending up dead myself.

For a long moment of uncertainty Ellie just stood there.

She guessed she was in some kind of stunned shock. Her mind felt sluggish and would not process her thoughts properly.

Slowly, as if moving in a surreal dream, she moved forward and knelt down beside Helen. She wasn't proficient at taking pulses, but she gave it her best effort.

The woman was dead.

Ellie didn't even have to assure herself by checking for a heartbeat or breathing. It was the utter stillness. There was no life in this woman's body. It had been taken from her.

As if emerging from a trance, suddenly Ellie became aware of movement around her and she turned her head sharply upward to see figures appearing from behind the tall columns of the chapel. There were three of them, all female. They were clothed in casual attire, but what struck Ellie immediately was the red sashes they wore. She knew them for what they were.

"Why are you here!?" she demanded, her voice even. "What business is this of the Red Coven?"

"You can save the pretence," said one of the woman. It was Miriam, now dressed in a blouse and jeans. Her expression was almost feral. "We have slain one of your companions. It was easy enough. Where is the other? Is she hiding below?"

Ellie nearly spat at the floor, her fury surging within. "Why have you done this? What do you want!?"

"You haven't answered my question," Miriam said blandly.

Glancing around the chamber, trying to assess her chances of escaping, Ellie saw that she was trapped. The three woman had positioned themselves to cut her off from the exit. And she had no doubt that they intended to kill her. Or at least try to anyway. "Grace is dead. There was a trap." She said this with casual indifference and Miriam's features registered a subtle shift. She looked uneasy now.

"You may be lying of course, but it does not matter. Give me the contract."

The girl just gazed at her, her eyes unwavering. "No." Ellie was very aware of the gentle pressure of the document in her pocket now, but she resisted the impulse to glance down at it.

The three Red Coven witches watched her warily. "We will take it if we have to." Miriam was visibly tensing herself and her associates began to move gradually around, putting distance between them so that it was more difficult for Ellie to keep them in view.

"You can try."

These words and the confidence that was evident in them gave Miriam pause. "There are three of us," she stated, almost as if to reassure herself.

Ellie gave a quick smile, but her eyes were hard. "Come on, you are all level fours and I'm only a level three. Should be easy."

With a snarl, Miriam stepped forward, but the sound of footsteps approaching on the stone floor caused her to spin around abruptly.

A man entered with a relaxed air of nonchalance. He was dressed in shirt and jeans and Ellie recognised him as the same person she had noticed earlier. There were a few seconds of silence as they all regarded each other.

Miriam glared at one of the other woman and spoke. "I thought I told you to make sure no one could come in."

"I did," came the reply. "He shouldn't have been able to get in here." The witch turned her attention to the man. "You should leave," she said with irritation. "This place is out of bounds."

The intruder glanced at each of them in turn, his attitude remarkably calm. "I don't think I'll do that."

Even Ellie was caught off-guard by this. But Miriam had clearly heard enough. "Control, " she voiced, focusing her full attention on him.

"Neutralize," countered the man and all four women's expressions mirrored each other as they looked at him with a combination of wonder, horror and genuine fear.

Now the man turned to regard Ellie and in his eyes the girl saw something intense and powerful. "Now would be a good time to do something," he told her with just the smallest sign of urgency. He tilted his head as if to say, well?

With a start, as if she had finally got a grip on herself and what was going on, Ellie spoke. "Darkness." With all of her concentration on the women, she felt her amulet begin to charge with energy.

All three witches staggered back a little, groping out to try to support themselves, their eyes distant and unseeing. The woman who had just addressed the man cried out in alarm. "Protect!" She obviously feared attack while vulnerable, but Ellie saw that it was a mistake.

Already the man had moved beside her. "Get some cover," he hissed at her, nodding to the nearest column. Ellie did as she was told.

The only Red Coven witch to have not spoken now called out a Word of Power in a furious roar. "Obliterate!" But already her two intended targets were out of sight and the Word had no effect.

Miriam gave a terrible scream, not of pain but anguish. Ellie couldn't see her from the position she held, but it was a disturbing sound.

"She will be able to speak again very soon," the man said to the girl in a harsh whisper. He was very close beside her now, their arms almost touching.

"Who are you?" the girl asked. Despite everything, this seemed the most important thing of all in that moment.

With an affable grin, the man stepped out into the open again. "A friend," Ellie heard him say.

Then everything became a cacophony of sound and vibration. The entire building appeared to shudder and throb around her. And Ellie knew it was caused by the single word the man had spoken. Vortex.

Ellie sat on a park bench. It was beginning to get darker by slow degrees.

She had wandered about for quite some time in a daze, not knowing what to do or what to think.

What had happened in the chapel had been so incredible, so unbelievable, she could only sit there turning the memories around in her head, trying to make them fit together and make some kind of sense.

When the man had stepped out to face the Red Coven witches and spoken the Word, Vortex, Ellie felt the power all around her. At first she had wanted to just pin herself to the comfortingly solid mass of the stone pillar, but her need to see, to know what was taking place was greater than her apprehension. She had peered out then to witness a rift in the air, that was the only way she could describe in, like a whirlpool of coiling energy. And the three women were being drawn into it, pulled by a force greater than they could resist. There were shouts, screams and a pulsing rhythmic hum.

And standing there, his face quietly composed was the man who had created it. His focus was on the witches as they were dragged into the heart of the swirling mass. The noise grew even louder and Ellie had needed to put her hands over her ears. Then one by one, the witches were consumed, taken into the vortex with a horrible suction, the sound of it awful to hear.

The girl had pulled herself back behind the column, not wanting to see anymore.

Then there was quiet, nothing stirred, all was silent.

Ellie stayed there for several moments, breathing fast, her thoughts in a jumble. But when finally she looked out again the chapel was deserted. No sign of the women and more perplexing still, the man was nowhere to be seen either.

She had stepped out quickly, scanning the interior for where he might have gone. But everything was just as it had been when they first entered, except for the altar which still revealed the hidden stairwell beneath it. Except for the dead body of Helen still laying there like some awful reminder of what had just taken place.

The memory of dragging the poor woman down into the stairwell and then coming out to speak a Word to seal both her and Grace's remains within what would now become their tomb still caused Ellie to shudder.

Now seated on the bench, the girl remembered rushing out from the chapel, hoping to still catch sight of the man among the visitors who incredibly still ambled around the Tower, unsuspecting and unknowing, but he was gone.

But this had not been the only thing to have disappeared she had discovered. Because it had been then that she had felt her pocket and realised that the document was also missing. And she didn't have to think very hard to know who had taken it.

John greeted Luke as he entered the house. "There is a message for you."

The older boy stared at him blankly. "What kind of message?"

Offering a sealed envelope out towards him, John gave a deferential smile. "It is private."

Luke took the note and scowled slightly. Who would send him a letter in Witch Town? Beth!?

He tore it open and read the inscription.

Please meet me in the library. Come quickly. We are all in danger.

Ellie.

The boy stared at the page. He read it over again. The handwriting was neat and in black ink. Luke tried to recall what Ellie's script looked like, but he had to admit he had no idea. It wasn't something he had ever taken any interest in.

All in danger? Luke thought that much was obvious. They were trapped in a town full of witches after all. And then there was the fact that Ellie was also one of them.

But could he afford to ignore it. Could he really just go up to his room and pretend he'd never read it?

He had been very angry and hurt by some of the things that had happened since they had come to this dreadful place, but at least today he had been reminded of some of what he used to have, his friendship with Zack, enough to restore his mind just a little and also his heart.

Luke realised that this town and the attitudes of its inhabitants had been eating away at him ever since he arrived. He would never be able to forget how he had been responsible for the death of the young woman. That had been the moment when he had begun to change. Taking a life, however unintentional, had scarred him permanently.

He really didn't have a choice when all things were considered. He would have to go. Even though he knew he was putting himself in even more danger.

"I'm going out," he informed the boy.

"Is that allowed?" John queried with some concern.

Luke just rolled his eyes. "Let's find out."

Ellie knew she needed to do something, to get up and take some action. But she felt at a loss. Already, before she had arrived at this place and stopped to mull things over, she had walked past a number of police officers and debated with herself about blurting out the whole bizarre story.

The fact that she hadn't disturbed her and yet there were just too many reasons why she had had chosen not to. And the most pressing was the ultimate safety of her friends.

This thought finally got her motivated again and she was about to get up and leave when a small group of teenage boys came ambling towards her.

They had a swagger that told Ellie that they thought they were something special. At least in their own minds. But there was also something dangerous about their expressions. A raw hunger that was unpleasant to witness.

She gave a sigh and watched as one of their number, a very tall, very thin boy hailed her.

"What this fine lady doin here? You lookin to party, innit?"

Ellie just stared back at him with an expression of utter disinterest. "Go away or you'll be sorry."

The group of five boys laughed at this and one or two prodded each other as they gazed down at the seated girl. "She threatening me, blood?" their leader asked a smaller, slighter boy wearing a baseball cap.

There was more chuckling, but there was something mean in the sound that Ellie didn't like at all.

The threat of violence hung potent in the air.

"Last chance," she said wearily.

Now the laughter was quietened and their expressions became more predatory. "This girl got some attitude. Maybe we teach you some manners, innit," the tall boy told Ellie.

The girl stood up abruptly and the five of them made mocking noises as if they were scared of her. Ellie knew they weren't but they should have been.

"Obey," she stated and regarded them impassively as each boy's eyes became vacant. They waited for her to speak again like dutiful puppies ready to follow their masters command. "Okay," she said thoughtfully, looking them up and down. "Everyone take off your clothes."

Ellie hailed a taxi. She gave the driver the postcode Margaret had written down for her.

"This is quite a journey, you know," the man said to her, turning his head to study her. "It will be expensive."

"That's fine," Ellie responded. "I just need to get home."

The driver gave her another long look as if making certain she was genuine and then turned back to the steering wheel.

Sitting there in the back of the taxi as it moved off through the London streets, lights reflecting on the window as she stared out, Ellie felt ill at ease. She was making decisions now that felt alien to her, almost as if she no longer knew herself.

She had left the five teenage boys in just their underwear and told them to make their way to Buckingham Palace and try to climb the gates. It was the best she could come up with at short notice. She really wished she could find it funny, but she didn't. Everything had become far too serious for that.

But the truth was Ellie had much bigger concerns on her mind.

How was she going to explain to Margaret or anyone else what had happened in the chapel? Would they even believe her? She had lost the document and it occurred to her then that she could be blamed for the deaths of Grace and Helen. Did Margaret know that the Reds had sent their own witches after her?

And of course, more prominent in her thoughts than anything else, was the matter of who was the man who could use Words of Power and had come to her aid?

There were so many unanswered questions. And too many agendas at work.

The taxi moved on, taking her back to Witch Town. Part of her could not believe she would go so willingly. But in her spirit and she was beginning to understand that it was this that truly guided her, Ellie was aware that the rules that she had lived by all of her life were no longer relevant. She was different now and so was the world she existed in. Forever altered and irrevocably transformed into something beyond dream or nightmare.

36

Who was he? He helped me, but he stole the contract. And how can he use the Words anyway. I thought it was a ladies only thing. Well, everything is up for grabs now. The game has changed and Margaret isn't going to like it one little bit. But more important than that is the simple fact that the Reds have made a direct play for power. They killed Helen and that's bound to mean war between the Covens, or at least between the Blacks and the Reds. Which also means I am stuck right in the middle of the fight.

The darkness was a cloak across the fields. Ellie could only make out indistinct shapes, spectres in the night.

She began to lumber forward over mud and grass, allowing her instincts to guide her. She knew Witch Town lay not far ahead.

Her mind raced, uncertainty and real fear vying for precedence. What was she going to say? The truth, was the only thing she could come out with. What else was there? It might be hard to believe, but there it was. It had all really happened. Margaret and the others might not like it when she told them, but what was the point really in holding anything back.

Almost without thinking about it, the thought coming into her head like something obvious suddenly remembered, she said aloud, "light". It was a very odd thing whenever she momentarily forgot about her power and it felt good to rediscover it, the knowledge of what she was capable of lifting her spirits. But was it enough?

People were dying. And this wasn't a game. This led her to worrying about Zack and the others. Were they okay? She quickened her pace.

The illumination that she had created was more than simply light, it was an uncanny glow that spread wide about her and it gave the surrounding trees an ethereal appearance. It was almost magical and actually quite beautiful.

She continued on with assurance now. Some inner compass knew where she needed to go.

And very soon she would pass through the border of Witch Town. In with power, out with power.

At first the library seemed deserted, but then Luke became aware of a faint sound, like paper being torn, somewhere far back in the depths of the building.

It was a relatively large interior with many generously stacked bookcases in uniform lines, creating a kind of maze. The boy wondered what on earth these women could find to write about, although he saw as he glanced at the bindings that they did at least include many classics of literature as well as their own scribblings. Novels such as Moby Dick and Of Mice and Men caught his eye as he moved between the rows. Luke found this quite surprising as he had presumed the witches were intent on controlling the thoughts and attitudes of their citizens. Although it occurred to him and he was almost certain of it, that these books were for the consumption of females only. Men might very well get the wrong ideas if they read too much!

He moved on, listening intently for the noise that drew him forward. He wanted to call out Ellie's name, but the combination of being in a library where quiet was a requirement and his own sense of hesitancy about even being there kept him silent.

He went on between the high book shelves, moving slowly, almost tempted to tiptoe. He found the atmosphere in the library quite unnerving.

Now Luke was sure that whatever was causing the disturbance was over to the far right hand side, so he hesitantly made his way in that direction.

As he came to the end of a long corridor between bookcases, he entered into a more open area and was greeted by a perplexing scene.

The witch he knew as Isobel of the Red Coven was tearing pages from books and tossing them casually about her. Already the floor was littered with many remnants of various volumes.

Luke stopped and gaped. He wondered idly if the woman was having some kind of major temper tantrum, but she seemed calm enough. Her expression was quite relaxed, her attention on the task at hand. She tore out a few more pages, her face turned away from him and threw them off towards one of the high bookcases, where they fluttered in the air for a few moments before coming to ground.

"I am very pleased you could attend," the woman's voice abruptly rang out and Luke visibly jerked. Isobel turned towards him. "I expect you have questions." She let her eyes find the pages strewn around her, books laying upended and damaged about her feet. She gazed at him with an intense interest that the boy found distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'm ...sorry," he offered mildly, "I got lost. I shouldn't be here." The truth was he just wanted to get out of this place. He had no idea where Ellie was, but he clearly didn't want to remain in the company of this woman for very long. He really didn't like the way she looked at him, like some cat sizing up a particularly plump mouse.

"Oh, but on the contrary," she corrected, "you are exactly where you need to be."

Luke continued to stare at her. "Is Ellie here?" he asked, unsure if he should even mention the girl's name.

Now Isobel smiled, although there was something hard and humourless in the act. "She is coming. Not long now. But in the meantime, aren't you wondering what I am doing?" She waited as if expecting him to say something, but Luke didn't respond. He knew that he was in trouble, although why or just how serious it was he was at a loss to say. Isobel grabbed another book with a slightly irritated sigh. "Well, I will tell you anyway." She flung the book away violently where it struck a shelf and Luke's gaze moved to where it fell mutilated to add to the ever increasing sense of carnage. "I am creating a stage for you so that you will appear convincing in your performance." The boy's eyes widened and he almost spoke, but with an effort he stopped himself. Why give her the satisfaction. Isobel pursed her thin lips and took a few steps towards him. In Luke's head a voice screamed at him to turn and run, but his legs and feet were leaden and unresponsive. "The story I will tell will go like this. Your friend arrived to discover you in a fit of rage and wanton destruction and she attempted to reason with you. How terrible then that you should have turned your bitter anger on her. She would not have expected it from one so close. Her own Husband no less."

The familiar wooden signpost greeted her as Ellie walked into Witch Town under the cover of night. Everything seemed at sleep, only the sound of a gentle breeze in the trees and the occasional call of an animal fracturing the stillness.

She still was undecided on where to go first. She couldn't say exactly what time it was as she was one of those who had long ago begun to trust her mobile phone for the time rather than a wristwatch. But it was quite late she was sure. Perhaps midnight. The moon hung large in the sky, its pale glow enough to see by now.

Ahead, something moved. Almost imperceptible, but Ellie saw it nonetheless.

She halted, watching, trying to make out detail. Someone was standing there in the shadows.

Ellie considered calling out to them, but she was unsure of anything or anyone. The Reds had tried to kill her. That had been their intent. She would have to be careful who she trusted now, if indeed she could truly trust anyone in this place.

Moving forward slowly, she kept her gaze fixed on the spot where she could just make out the outline of a figure in the gloom.

Abruptly the person moved, coming towards her at speed and Ellie stopped again, ready to speak a Word. She saw that it was a woman approaching, but this meant little to her. The features were none that she recognised.

But as the person drew nearer, Ellie did relax somewhat as she noted that this witch wore a black scarf about her neck. "Do not fear," the woman said as they came within a few feet of each other. There was urgency in her voice. "I am Susan of the Black Coven, sent by Margaret to meet you and escort you to a place of safety. We know what has happened. The treachery of the Reds will be avenged."

Ellie felt a surge of relief that surprised her. Whatever she may feel towards these women, these witches, she was a part of this now. It had all gone too far for her to deny the truth of it.

"Are my friends all okay?" she demanded to know, keeping the words a low hiss, the overriding quiet almost oppressive.

The witch who named herself Susan appeared nervous and eager to get moving. "Things are on a knife edge. Margaret will explain. Please come. Quickly."

This was enough to spur Ellie on and she fell in behind the other woman as they went deeper into Witch Town, both now walking at a brisk pace, neither speaking, focused on making as little sound as possible.

Zack gazed at the ceiling in his room. How could he sleep? Too much was happening, too many things to process. His thoughts skipped from Leonie to his sister, to Luke and Beth and then returned to Leonie again. It was frustrating because it did little good. But his mind would not be distracted.

He felt utterly helpless. Admittedly he was very happy and also relieved that he had been able to patch things up with Luke, but this was the only positive he could come up with. Everything else was a mess.

He folded his hands behind his head, knowing that his body was tired, but his brain refused to acknowledge this fact.

Zack closed his eyes, hoping this might help. It didn't.

Eventually he contented himself with imagining Leonie's beautiful eyes. At least it was something that made him feel as if there were good things in the world. And he needed to believe that this was true more than ever now.

Beth slept fitfully. She was dreaming of her life as a servant and hating every second of it. What was this existence that she had become ensnared in? She thought of Zack, longing to see him and then there he was, within her dream, smiling at her, beckoning her. She went to him gladly and he took her in his arms, holding her very tightly. She turned in her sleep, sighing contently.

But somewhere far down in her subconscious she knew that this was not reality. He was not hers. What had been a faint smile now became a frown and the girl groaned a little as she moved about restlessly within her sheets.

Despite her fears, despite everything, Zack represented so much for her. And she was determined to hold onto it. She would not give him up without a fight.

They moved cautiously, keeping to shadow where possible. Susan led Ellie behind a row of large buildings that the girl recognised as those that dominated the centre of the town. She supposed that the other witch was either taking her to The Black Coven House itself or Margaret's own private residence, a place she not yet visited. But then Susan halted by a doorway at the rear of one of the imposing structures just ahead of her and without preamble opened it and ducked inside.

Without giving it any thought, Ellie followed.

Whatever she had expected to find inside, it was not what greeted her. Instead of Margaret, another witch stood before her, a weak smile of feigned cordiality on her lips.

Isobel of the Red Coven regarded her for a moment and then her eyes moved to Susan. "Thank you. You have done well. Your service to the Red Coven will not go unrewarded. Now return to your own Coven before you are missed."

With a glance that revealed hostility and contempt in equal measures, Susan brushed past Ellie and departed leaving the girl alone. She stood rigid, knowing how much danger she was in, understanding that she would have no chance of leaving alive without conflict. But she was not afraid. She looked about her, realising that she was in the town library.

Isobel continued to watch her, her bright eyes intent on the girl's features. "You have been on an adventure," she begun in an genial tone, "have you not?"

Ellie didn't really want to reply, but she also did not want to appear passive. "I think you know already," she said harshly. "And you should also know that your Sisters won't be coming back."

Now Isobel's expression displayed some of the loathing that was truly in her heart. "You will pay for that," the witch asserted with a promise that Ellie knew was sincere. "But for now, I want the document. Do not force me to make you suffer more than is really necessary."

Suppressing a chuckle, Ellie's eyes nonetheless showed her amusement. "I don't have it."

"Lies will only cause you pain," the Red Coven witch assured her.

Ellie gave a quick shrug. "It was stolen. It seems as though you don't know everything after all."

Regarding her with suspicion and also Ellie realised, trepidation, the woman slowly began to move, circling the girl. "And who would be able to steal it from you, pray tell?"

As she watched Isobel gradually moving to her left side, another movement caught her eye to the right and she saw that another Red Coven witch had joined them, coming out from behind one of the huge bookcases. "You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you." Ellie stood her ground, ready to fight when the time came. And she knew that it would come.

"What do you think," Isobel asked her, ignoring the girl's words, "will the two of us be enough? You had allies the last time. You are alone now." the woman glanced at her subordinate. "Or perhaps three would be more appropriate." Now another witch came out into the open, having been concealed behind yet another shelf. "Or even four." They were joined by a fourth woman then, each coming to a halt so that they were fanned out in front of the girl. Ellie noted that Isobel's companions all wore the sashes that denoted their level. They were obviously taking no chances with her this time. Her red cloak flowing about her shoulders, Isobel now clicked her fingers and Ellie showed her first sign of real dismay or alarm as Luke walked out to stand beside the woman. His features were slack and Ellie knew that he was under the witch's control. "Here is your Husband. Are you not pleased to see him." She grinned, her teeth bared. "He has something for you."

Luke turned his detached gaze towards Ellie and it was then that she noticed what he held in his hand.

A silver blade glinted there.

37

No one ever asks for what they get. It just comes along without invitation or warning. True, we all get to make choices. But really, isn't it true that we only get to make those choices without knowing all of the facts. It's rare to be able to sit down, study the evidence for and against and then decide. That certainly doesn't apply to my life anyway. And now I am faced with kill or be killed. What kind of choice is that?

One of the witches to her right spoke first. Ellie heard it even as she stared into Luke's eyes and saw absolutely no recognition there. "Fear."

She began to feel something, a skittering in her mind, her thoughts becoming less defined to be replaced by random doubt. She was lost here, that much was clear to her. She was going to die. Ellie's hands were clenched and she felt the first sting of tears.

No!

She would not give in to this. She would not.

But this was only the beginning.

"Pain." Another voice, another Word of Power. Ellie's entire body began to burn from within. The sensation built and built, rising up from the pit of her stomach, expanding to reach towards her head. Now the girl's nails were cutting into her own palms as she tried to resist the onslaught.

"Weaken." A third witch spoke and Ellie's knees almost buckled. She tottered, desperate to stay upright.

She was so tired, she realised, exhausted from everything she had experienced. How could anyone survive this. It was all beyond her strength. She was so small, so insignificant. How could she have ever imagined she was anything other than a freak with nothing to offer and nothing worth living for.

Ellie attempted to focus her mind and despite the weariness she felt, a lethargy that went deep into her bones, she looked out at the pale, indistinct faces of those who confronted her. But it was Luke who held her gaze. His eyes were intent on her now, dark and penetrating. And there was hunger in that expression, a terrible yearning to fulfil the command that had been given to him. Luke meant to kill her she knew.

He came forward with assurance and it was all Ellie could do to stay on her feet. She knew that her time to act was rapidly fading. But her mind would not function properly and she had begun to tremble. Finally her tears did begin to fall and she could do nothing to stop them.

"Please," she managed to whisper and though her head pounded and everything seemed blurred and sluggish, she still heard the laughter of Isobel, mocking her. Luke was very close now and the silver dagger that he held came with him.

Ellie gritted her teeth and then violently she bit down upon her lip, blood beginning to flow onto her chin. She threw back her head, anger, desperation, horror all coursing through her. Above, the great beams of the library roof loomed over her. She cried out, the agony she felt in her flesh nothing compared to what was happening to her mind. "Inferno!"

There was a moment of utter stillness. Almost as if time had come to a standstill. Then everything became blazing white, an explosion of air and heat. Flame erupted everywhere. The bookcases, the building itself ignited. Windows exploded and there was the sound of fire and fury.

Ellie was aware of movement around her, but she could not focus her vision. Red and orange shadows darted about, but she could not make out anything clearly. She knelt down, her body seeming incredibly heavy.

A scream caused her to turn quickly just in time to see one of the witches doing some mad pirouette as her clothing was engulfed by flame. Ellie turned away. She did not want to see any more.

Then above the tumult, she heard a ragged voice scream out. Isobel. "Impale!"

Ellie saw something that had the shape of a long spear rushing through the air towards her. But it was made entirely of light. A glowing missile of death aimed at her heart.

Even in the seconds that she had to think, Ellie knew that her SpiritHeart was still not ready for her to speak again. She was powerless to protect herself.

But the projectile never reached her.

All at once Luke was there before her and in that minute fragment of time Ellie saw that he was himself once more. His eyes were bright and alert and he held her gaze as the spear struck him, sending him sprawling away from her and smashing into one of the burning bookshelves.

Everywhere about her, fire raged. Above, the wooden structure had ignited in the tremendous power of the heat she had generated. Timber groaned and spat black ash. It was as if a portal to hell had opened up there, the flames swirling and extending with their own need to decimate everything within reach.

Ellie had no time to think, to grieve, to even move. She spoke. It was all that she could do now. "Levitate."

A flicker of a memory, of Helen and Grace in the house where Margaret had tested her came unexpectedly into her mind. That seemed such a long time ago. Only yesterday she recalled. Such a very long time.

But it was not her who rose into the air. It was the other witches. All three were rising, their expressions a mirror of each other. Panic and Terror.

One of the woman, the first who had spoken against Ellie, called out then, even as she struggled, ascending towards the flames. "Protect!" And an amorphous substance surrounded her, a shimmering mesh.

Ellie watched from below, straining her neck, observing with dispassionate interest. She saw without really registering that another of the witches had already been consumed. She hung there stationary, a fiery mannequin.

She looked about for Isobel, but whether she had fallen or was hidden by the raging torrent of flame, Ellie did not know or really care.

Smoke was billowing everywhere, black and thick. Her hair was scorched, her skin crimson with heat and she knew that she would not survive for very much longer. Her amulet was very slowly draining. She had used up a great deal of her own essence and she realised then, truly for the first time, that the power she wielded had a price. It took something from her, something vital and crucial that could not be easily replaced. To use these Words too often could cost her more than just her life.

But of course, such considerations were of little consequence just then. She staggered off to where Luke lay, unmoving, slumped amidst a pile of books. Smoke and flame were all about her.

Coughing, holding her hand to her mouth, she went down low beside him. She couldn't tell if he was alive. She saw nothing to make her think that he was. Ellie would have cried but she was just too exhausted. She had nothing left. No emotion.

One last effort she told herself. Sitting down beside Luke's motionless form, she embraced him, holding him very close against her.

"Protect," she said softly, the sound barely audible above the harsh crackling of wood and paper.

Then everything collapsed. Ellie saw it coming down upon them. She closed her eyes. There was nothing more she could do.

It was raining.

Ellie's consciousness returned and she slowly looked upward , her eyes blurred by tears.

She knew that Luke was dead. She could feel it. He was still and cold and seemed so small cradled in her arms.

The fire she had created was being subdued as water fell from the sky. Where there had been a ceiling there was only a gaping, ragged hole. Everything smouldered, black and charred and utterly ruined.

She had no desire to move. What was the point.

Sounds of movement came to her through the haze of her thoughts and she was dimly aware that figures were approaching.

With an effort she focused her mind on her surroundings and she noted without any real interest that a number of people were coming closer. Urgent conversation was audible to her, but the words were unintelligible.

Then a voice she recognised spoke out. "There!" It was Margaret picking her way through the debris. But still Ellie made no attempt to stir. These women were not her friends, none of them.

She longed for Zack or Beth, someone who would understand and share her sense of loss and grief. Without realising, she held on more tightly to Luke's body. She didn't want to let him go.

"Ellie," the elderly witch said, now close beside her.

With tears filled eyes the girl forced herself to meet the woman's gaze. "He's dead," she stated, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"Yes," acknowledged the witch in a neutral tone. "As are others. Three bodies have been found."

Ellie's mind reluctantly began to process this. "Only three?"

The elderly witch nodded gravely. "Isobel is missing. It is my belief that she has fled."

The girl stared, confused. "Where?"

"Away from Witch Town. She is a fugitive now. The Reds will disown her, of course, but it will not be so easy for them to avoid retribution for what has been done."

"Where is my brother? Where is Beth?" Ellie needed people around her that she trusted. Not this witch who she knew had used and manipulated her.

"First you need to leave here. We have used Words to put out the worst of the fire, but it is still dangerous."

"I don't care!" Ellie cried out, her heart lurching painfully in her chest.

The old woman regarded her impassively. "But you will. In time. You will care about what has been done and who was responsible. And you will need to choose a side to stand on in the conflict that will come. And mark me, it will come."

With a groan of sorrow that came from a place deep within, the girl glanced down at Luke's face. He had been her friend. And in this place he had been called her husband. Admittedly, during the past weeks there had been problems between them, but that had only been caused by the extreme circumstances that had been forced upon them.

He had sacrificed himself to save her, that much she knew without question. At the end he had been himself and he had made a choice, a very grave choice, to protect her.

It was something that she would carry with her until the very end of her days. And if she had ever been unkind to him or misunderstood him, she regretted it so much now.

Too late. It was all too late.

Finally, she reluctantly let go of the boy and stood up to face Margaret, to face what she had done. All about her was smoke and ash and destruction. If only she believed that this would be the last she would ever see. But her spirit told her otherwise. This would be the first of many such desperate scenes. This would be her future.

And she would travel that road whether she wanted to or not.
Yes, this did turn out to be a bad holiday in Witch Town. Worse than I could have ever imagined. Not that imagination exists for me anymore. Hard and harsh reality is all I have. I know now what it is to see people die. And I know what it feels like to lose a friend. Whatever I do, I can't help thinking it's my fault that Luke is gone. He died for me, didn't he? I need to remember. And learn. Because this isn't over. I have to accept I'm part of something that will mean that more people are going to get hurt. Or even die. It's started and there's no turning away or turning back. This bitter, dark morning is the first day of the battle to come. And I will have to stand on one side or another. I will have to fight. For Zack. For Beth. And for Luke. This is my war now.

