10

I gingerly stepped through the doorway and immediately forgot about the patinated brass door knocker from hell when Marie embraced me in her incense-fragrant arms. The silky fabric of her emerald-coloured pegged dress felt incredibly smooth and nice against my warm cheek, even though my face was currently squashed in her bosom from her tight hold. She broke off our embrace and held me at an arm’s length to give me a look-over with frowned brows.

“M’dearest Sam, what in the world happened to you? You look practically ghastly!” She adjusted the matching deep-green turban on her head, hiding her short platinum hair, with a well-manicured hand and displayed a concerned look on her face. I was about to reply as she waved a dismissive hand, bracelets jingling, and swivelled around towards her study. “I’m in quite a hurry today, Sam. I’m sorry, but we have to get started right away.” I smiled as I watched her practically slide over the marble floor in her ten centimetres heels without effort and shook my head. How typical of Marie. She’s like a whirlwind from one topic to the next. I took of my shoes – I could never be inside such a beautiful home with dirty sneakers on – and headed past the foyer’s centrepiece flower arrangement set in the middle of the room on the round entry table. Marie adored beautiful things, and the flower arrangement was often updated to match Marie’s current mood. From the assortment of flowers and herbs in the bouquet, I could find large bundles of Lavender and Valerian root, which indicated Marie was stressed or anxious about something. Naturally my mind wondered if the reason for Marie’s troubles could originate from the sabotages on the gardens. I furrowed my brows at the thought and rushed after Marie. I wished with all my heart that I could help sort out any problems that the Coven, Marie, or Jonas had. I owed them so much. I just couldn’t figure out in what way I could be helpful to them.

I entered Marie’s enormous study and my eyes wandered over the familiar setup of the surprisingly modern interior design in the room. In contrast to the rest of the house and its grounds - which has been left much in its original state, matching the coven’s rich and long history in town - Marie’s study looked nothing like what you would think a witch’s office should look like, at all. The large glass and steel desk was perfectly framed in front of the enormous, curtain free French doors on the opposite wall, and the white marble floor and empty ivory walls looked as impeccable and bright as usual. It has always struck me as odd that this office was so sterile, colourless, and austere compared to Marie’s very vivid person. When I had asked her about it, Marie had explained that her study was deliberately kept barren to hold up an appearance of normalcy to her human contacts and business partners. “Could you imagine how those ignorant humans down at the farmer’s market would react if I, for example, had kept the remains of last winter solstice’s ritualistic sacrifices in this very office? Humans have never been able to understand our way of living, and therefore, I’ve kept this public study as free of any magic as possible.”, she had said with a snort. In that moment, I had been glad to not being subjected to the view of her “ritualistic sacrifices” either – whatever poor creature it had been.

Marie had positioned herself in the usual spot she always used during our sessions; a little nook in the corner just left of the doorway. She had lounged herself casually over the cream-coloured lounge daybed like a lazy cat soaking up light in the sun-filled patch on the couch, and waived impatiently at me, indicating she had no more interest in dallying away a morning with me as she did visiting the dentist for a root-filling. She is probably in a lot of hurry before the flight, and here I am, taking up her time at the last minute. I felt a tinge of guilt and hurried to the expensive-looking, white sheepskin-pouffe opposite her and perched myself at the edge of the seat, trying to look as dignified as one could on such a tiny, ridiculous piece of furniture. What is wrong with an old-fashioned, sturdy chair, with an appropriate size to accommodate a - yes, slightly tall compared to the average - female?

“So…”, I began hesitantly as had Marie rested her fingers on her forehead, deep in thought, “You wished to see me urgently today?” Her head whipped at up at me and she squeezed out a warm smile.

“Well, yes, Sam. I’m sure you’re wondering why I summoned you here today. Well, firstly, I of course wanted to say farewell to my favourite little student before leaving for vacation.” She placed her hand on her chest and beamed at me. “And second of all, since I and Jonas will be away for the greater part of the summer this year, I wanted to take the opportunity to replenish the energy in your Hagalaz. I had planned to hold the ritual after our return, but since you will be close to the werewolf community this summer, I believe I need to strengthen it before departure.” A certain sharpness had been added to her voice.

Marie and I have had monthly sessions for many years now. The only time that we have diverted from our schedule was whenever she left for summer vacation, where we simply skipped the session in June. The main purpose of these sessions has always been to learn more about the history of witches, how our culture fits in with humankind, how we interact with other supernatural beings. Basically, witches’ social studies. We’ve spent many hours going over topics like the renaissance of our culture in the early years of the 17th century and the subsequent witch hunts, the interspecies unrest in the 20th century, the gradual disappearance of fairies and the reasons for the ongoing extinction of the vampire community. The ritual of replenishing the Hagalaz has always been secondary, up until today.

I frowned. What had I missed?

“The werewolf community?”

Marie repositioned herself upright on the daybed, legs crossed to the side, with her hands resting on one knee and fixed her eyes upon me.

“I’ve understood from Jonas, you will be working at Solhall properties during summer break as an administrative assistant. As you surely remember from our session last tertial on the modern history of Solhall and its adjacent districts; Solhall properties, including subsidiaries and associated companies in the Dew 42 Group, as well as the northern infrastructure companies from the Ulv Construction are controlled by the Great Freke pack.”

Well, I can tell you right now, I surely did NOT remember that piece of information. The session Marie is referring to was a four-hour monologue of hers that I vaguely remember, where she had accounted for the complex company structures and its relating legal activities of the last decade in Solhall. Needless to say, it was as dull as dirty dishwater, and my brain had therefore 1) listened to the information, 2) evaluated it, 3) found it irrelevant and 4) consequently discarded it. I groaned internally as karma now mercilessly retaliated on me.

I shifted uncomfortably on the wobbly pouffe, bit my lip, and fixed my eyes on Marie’s perfectly manicured almond-shaped nails, as red and glossy as the apple that poisoned Snowhite. Marie sighed and shook her head.

“I know I ask a lot of you, Sam. But I only ask what I know you can handle.”

“But…I- I don’t understand. Why is this even a problem?”

“Remember, Samantha… Compliance is the –“

“Compliance is the greatest form of love. Yes?”, I urged her on. The Coven’s saying was well-known and often repeated in various context throughout the Sisterhood. I often heard it being recited to me whenever I was a bit too nosy about things, reminding me that not everything was needed-to-know. It didn’t stop me being persistent, though.

“What I am going to tell you now can never leave this room. Do you understand?” She dug her dark eyes into mine. “We must be wary of our friends in the werewolf-community.” She held up her hand, index finger raised, and shook her head as I opened my mouth to breath in a new counter-question. “As Jonas mentioned, we’ve been having some…issues on our grounds. I won’t divulge any deeper into the issue, but the fact is, that our formerly peaceful town now holds a hostile force. It would be unwise of us not to be cautious around the power-forces around us.”

“I don’t understand why me, working at an affiliate of the Great Freke would mean anything, though. It’s a big company, a lot of humans and all sorts of beings work there. I will probably never meet any of the pack members, and second of all, why would it matter even if I did? It’s not that they’re going to grow fangs and rip my head off in the middle of the office on a lunch break. Why would they even care about me? I bet a bunch of members of the Sisterhood are employed by some Great Freke-companies as well!”

Marie exhaled deeply; nostrils flared.

“We just can’t be cautious enough. We’ve discovered that a subsidiary mining company of the Dew 42 Group, based on the Cayman Islands, has been petitioned to start extracting cinnabar and silver ores, which was recently discovered in Solhall.” I must’ve looked as intelligent as I felt, as Marie clarified; “Mining includes appropriation of the properties in the western parts of Solhall. Our territory.”

“Which would mean…”

“Which would mean, we lose our house, our home, and our livelihood. Solhall properties would be the contractor in regards of the infrastructure in this project, the lobbying from their PR-division has been fierce ever since they sniffed out the resources. They tried to hide it by using different shell companies as a front, and we can therefore conclude that this is a targeted but covet offensive from Erik and his pack. And to answer your questions, yes, we have a couple of members employed at Solhall properties. They are our emissaries, and as you will learn as you come into adulthood, is that you need to keep being on your toes to excel yourself. You cannot only be on your isolated island without input from others around you. To be your best self, you need to challenge yourself, and a real challenge is to listen to those who’d necessarily not want the best for you.”

“Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?”

“You are sometimes too bright for your own good, Samantha. You’ll make a fine acolyte in the inner circle one day.” She patted me encouragingly on the knee.

My responding smile was a bit cringy and I hoped Marie wouldn’t notice. When I had disclosed to Marie that I perhaps wanted to work or study abroad after graduation, she had engaged in a lengthy campaign of me stepping up into the inner circle once I graduated, replacing one of its current members. She had insisted I belonged back home in Solhall, and that the inner circle would give me all the opportunities in the world that I could ever want. The inner circle was due for an update anyway, apparently.

“Some of these old crones is as useful as rope-less skipping ropes”, she had confided in me at some point when one of them had insisted that the Internet was the work of demons.

Sure, I was honoured. Perplexed, surely, but honoured. Being one of the thirteen acolytes in a Coven is considered being one of the highest rankings within the witch-community. Only the high priestess in the inner circle holds a more prominent position. A member of the inner circle is chosen by the high priestess based on their magical skillsets and, predictably, their influence and position within their covens. Which had brought me to the burning question; why in holy hell did Marie think I fitted in? I was as magically gifted as a wooden spoon. Marie had responded ambiguously that “where I lacked expertise in some areas, I had plentiful in others”. Unconvinced, I had politely half-declined her offer, as I wouldn’t want to be tangled up in the coven’s most inner workings. Not only was the position extremely long-term (often for life), but also a rather hostile environment. Nepotism was often a factor, even though it shouldn’t be, and power struggles within the inner circle is not an uncommon occurrence either. Most acolytes form their own little ‘fan-clubs’ of loyal subjects, and the spectacles between them can sometimes remind you of squabbling and gossiping evil old ladies. Needless to say, being a member of the inner circle might be heaven if you have the personality of a real housewife of Beverly Hills. If you don’t, then it’s a hellhole of drama, backstabbing, and power coups. In Marie’s defence however, the inner circle in the Sisterhood is quite tightly run by Marie as a single ruler of the coven’s affairs in comparison to other covens, but the grovelling and bootlicking at her feet by the acolytes is a nauseating eyesore. Without exaggeration, if the choice was to continue live my life as a semi-shunned nobody, or being involved with power-hungry witches, I much prefer the former.

Unfazed, Marie continued slyly.

“Some of the people I’ve placed in werewolf territory brings home unvaluable information, which would otherwise be unattainable to us.”

“I’m also stationed close to werewolf activities. Couldn’t I also listen into information that could be of value to you?” I would be very pleased I was allowed to help out in any way I could. Even if I didn’t plan to stay in Solhall for longer than necessary, I would always do everything in my power to help out Marie and Jonas.

“That’s very sweet of you, Sam. I just don’t know in what way you could contribute. The absolute priority for you is to stay safe and as far away from any werewolf as you could. It would sadden me deeply if anything happened to you, especially while I’m unavailable for almost the entirety of the summer. The werewolves are, for unknown reasons, on the prowl, and the last thing I would want to happen is for you to be involved in any way at all.” “But, surely, I could at least report to you regularly? I don’t need to sneak around like James Bond and steal documents, I could just perhaps simply keep my eyes and ears open to anything useful…?” She studied me for a second or two.

“Sure. If you absolutely insist, I think that will be the appropriate level of your involvement.” (That went easier than I’d thought!) She stared solemnly into my now round eyes. “But remember. They cannot. Be trusted.” She emphasized every word.

My head spun with all the information I’d just gathered, and I tried to sort it all out as rapidly as I could. This was my one and only chance to know what exactly is going on in this town.

“Is Great Freke also responsible for the vandalization on the greenhouses?”

“We believe so. But we have no proof of it”, Marie snorted heatedly with flared nostrils.

“But what does the twin town council say about all this? Northern Varger must surely have some information on Great Freke’s endeavours?”

“Samantha. I understand your curiosity. However…” Great, here it comes. The usual lecture. “…I’ve told you more than I actually should have, since you’ll be close to Great Freke this summer. Your job is to stay safe and sound and not consort with anyone outside the coven…” I zoomed out of the conversation as Marie went on with her exhortations, occasionally nodding when appropriate. I came back to reality when she clapped her hands together excitedly and announced; “Ritual-time!”