Chapter 6 The Triple Council
Renata
The night is as black as the matte limo we drive in. Despite the witches’ insistence that the Triple Council meeting be aligned with the full moon, it doesn’t appear that the moon or any of the stars are planning to make an appearance tonight.
And I forgot how dark it can get, this far away from the bright city. It makes me feel even more restless than I usually am.
I pull out my phone and hiss in frustration. “How can there be no service out here? I have work to do!”
“Welcome to witch territory,” Xia replies. “It’s like we never left the nineteenth century.”
“I hated the nineteenth century,” I reply. “I need modern plumbing and a consistent wifi signal.”
Damien chuckles. But Celine’s frown deepens, her pale eyes gazing anxiously out the window.
“Could we increase our speed?” she calls to the driver.
The car accelerates, but we barely feel it. This limo is a new model, impossibly silent and smooth.
“Should have flown,” my sister mutters grouchily. “It would have been faster.”
“Oh, it’s a perfect night for it,” Xia concurs, her eyes twinkling as she gazes out the window.
“Well, if you had flown, I wouldn’t have come,” I reply, my annoyance peaking.
Celine avoids my gaze as I round on her.
“Do you have any idea how much work I have to do back at the hotel? Yesterday we had a party of six in the penthouse suite, and they completely clogged both hot tubs. It’s almost irreparable.
We had to tear out the carpets! Thank god, Lily went to check in on them, otherwise the flooding could have impacted the floor below, and we had the Guptas staying there… ”
Instinctively, I look at my smartwatch, to check for a message from Lily.
But of course, nothing is coming through.
When she asked me if she should attend this meeting with me, I told her to stay at the hotel.
I need her there in my absence. And besides, this sort of business…
I didn’t want her wrapped up in it. It’s too far from her human world.
It’s not fair to expect her to accompany me.
But part of me wishes she was here as well. I’ve gotten so used to having her around, taking minutes, and keeping things running smoothly. Without her, it’s like I’m missing one of my own limbs.
My sister’s voice brings me back to the present moment.
“I appreciate everything you’re doing, Renata, but this is important too.
The witches are still suspicious of us, and right now, they have the upper hand.
As glad as I am that Tudor is imprisoned, not having our Creator around leaves us vulnerable.
If Lavinia decides that we’re working with him, she won’t hesitate to throw us in prison too. ”
“And I wouldn’t underestimate the other vampire clans,” Damien adds, running a nervous finger along his jaw.
“They can smell a power vacuum like a shark smells blood in the water. Even though Celine and I are older vampires, they’re going to notice the absence of Tudor and Lazarus Gray and think they can take advantage.
I’m concerned about Xavian. He’s not just going to go away. ”
I rub my temples, wishing I had a phone network so I could distract myself with work. Luckily, the car drives into what looks like a small tourist town. With my vampiric night vision, I can just barely read a painted wooden sign that says “Hemlock Haven” in cheerful, cursive letters.
“Here we are,” Xia says. “Bakeries, bookshop, church…the whole shebang.”
She rolls her eyes. Xia is an evil witch, and doesn’t always get along with the pious good witches.
Not like any of us do.
Well, except for…
“Amara,” Celine sighs, looking out the window. She opens the limo’s door before it even comes to a stop, and leaps out.
Celine’s partner, Amara, is waiting for us by a large, white-stone building that appears to be a large library or perhaps a school.
Her hair falls around her shoulders in long rope twists, and she wears an embroidered golden witch’s robe.
She has warm hazel eyes and golden-brown skin that glows even in the moonless night.
When they see each other, Amara runs toward Celine and Celine picks her up, twirling her around. They kiss deeply.
“Calm down, you two,” Xia laughs, following Celine out of the car. “You saw each other two days ago.”
“Gross,” I moan, crossing my arms and looking away from my sister and toward the imposing building before us. “Is this where the meeting is?”
“Yes, in the main hall of Twin Torches Academy,” says Amara, disentangling herself from Celine. “But there’s no time for a tour. The meeting has already started.”
She leads us up the oak-lined, cobblestoned street to the school. There’s nowhere to park, so the car remains awkwardly on the gravel path behind us.
Amara waves her hand to open the massive wooden doors. The main hallway is lined with towering portraits of good witches in austere robes, and class pictures going back centuries. It’s lit by candle chandeliers, the flickering light making the faces in the paintings seem to watch us as we go by.
“So this is where Hallie goes to school?” I ask.
“No, that’s Elmwood Academy,” Celine corrects. “The inclusive magic school that Amrita started. This is Twin Torches, the good witch university.”
“No vampires here,” Damien translates, with a raised eyebrow in my direction.
“Or evil witches,” Xia adds. She grins as she teases Amara. “What do you teach, Professor Moonfall? Pie Baking 101? Advanced Stargazing?”
“Offensive magic and broomstick-riding,” she replies, smirking at Xia with glowing yellow eyes.
“Oh really?” Xia says, a note of surprise in her voice. “That’s my class at Elmwood.”
“I didn’t know that! You should come and do a seminar here next semester…”
Xia snorts. “I’m sure Lavinia would love that.”
“You can’t teach another seminar,” I snap at her. “I need you at the hotel, Xia!”
“Would you all stop bickering,” Celine whispers urgently, as we come to a set of tall doors. “We have more important things to focus on!”
We fall silent as the unmistakable aura of magic wafts over us. The sound of chanting can be heard even through the heavy door. Amara waves her hand again to open the doors just enough to let us all through.
If she was hoping that we could make a sneaky entrance, she was wrong.
The witches are gathered in a circle around a raised wooden dais at the center of the large assembly hall.
There appears to be about two dozen of them, all clad in ornate, embroidered robes.
Two of them wear black pointed hats, unironically.
Candles hang suspended in the air, glowing in hues of yellow, orange and gold.
When we walk in, the chanting abruptly stops. There’s a woman standing on the dais, her arms raised majestically in the air, her face tilted toward the heavens. She gives us a severe look.
“Ah, Tudor Thornblade’s progeny,” she says, not concealing the disdain in her voice. “Late again. I see you have no respect for our customs or ceremonies.”
Celine’s eyebrow twitches. “My apologies for our lateness. We left the city as soon as we rose for the evening, but traffic was heavy.”
“Traffic,” says Lavinia, as though the concept is fantastical. But she doesn’t push the matter. Instead, she raises her arms again and completes the chant.
The witches eye us suspiciously as we approach, so we maintain a little distance from them.
Amara stays with us, even though it would certainly make more sense for her to join the other golden-robed good witches who form the center of the circle.
They’re easy to pick out. They have bird, cat and dog familiars, and wear gold and flowers in their hair.
Xia immediately spots the other evil witches, who stand on the outer perimeter. Their robes are crimson and purple, and they’re adorned with heavy jewelry and, in the case of one evil witch, an inverted pentagram etched on her forehead.
“Hi, Astrid!” Xia shouts, abandoning us for her friend.
Celine looks a little annoyed that our numbers are dwindling. We’re the only vampires at the meeting. For a moment, I think we’re the only non-witches, but then I spot a trio of panther shifters in their human forms, wearing jeans and open plaid shirts over bare chests.
I pull my phone out of the pocket of my beige pantsuit. One bar flickers teasingly across my screen. Celine stares at me angrily. With an irritated huff, I pocket it again.
“Graceful, Good Hecate,” intones Lavinia loudly, trying to drown out the distracted whispers from the other magical groups. “Bless these proceedings. Give us the strength and wisdom to…tolerate those who may not understand our ways.”
Amara sighs, but joins her in the final chant, along with the other witches. “I close the circle.”
The candles in the large hall flicker brightly. Lavinia lowers her arms, and surveys the hall like a stern schoolteacher.
“Blessed be and good evening to you all,” she says. “I now call this meeting of the Triple Council to order. Thank you for joining us. Although we are meeting at an…unusual time of day.”
She stares pointedly at us.
I scowl, and hiss to my sister. “This is a waste of time. She doesn’t even want us here.”
“She’s being dramatic,” Celine replies. “They always meet at night. Amrita Vyas is the Morgan coven High Priestess, for god’s sake.”
Amrita, as though summoned by her name, ascends the dais beside Lavinia. Amrita is well-known in the magical community for being something of an anomaly - a vampire who’s also a witch. She ignores Lavinia’s disgruntled expression and overtakes her on the dais.