Chapter Ten #2
I startled and spun my head around. Juniper was standing by the burning fireplace, and the line in front of me had disappeared.
“Oh, sorry,” I stuttered, jogging up to the fireplace. It was smokey and warm, and I enjoyed the way its heat sent waves of pleasure rippling through my skin. I knelt down, ensuring my cloak was pulled firmly over my head, and nestled my slip of paper beneath a burning log.
I remained there for a few seconds, watching the rolled-up paper ignite. The flames bit into the thin material, devouring it from the top down in seconds. Its charred remains sloughed off in pieces, melting into ash at the bottom of the fireplace.
I imagined Hollenboro, my family, my old life, burning away into nothing more than memories. I bit down on my lip to keep from getting emotional.
I will see them again , I told myself as I returned to my seat. Eventually. Once enough time has passed. I can’t risk going back now.
“Alright, everyone.” I looked over and noticed that Juniper was also returning to her seat. I’d been so preoccupied watching everyone else I hadn’t realized I was last in line.
“First off, I want to thank you all for being here today,” Juniper continued.
She spoke with the calm, smooth elegance of an experienced High Priestess, with her back straight and her hands neatly folded in her lap.
Silas, with his slitted pupils and hard reptilian features, surveyed the room with a shrewd glare.
As if ensuring that no one spoke over his witch.
“The new moon is a time of renewal; of endings and beginnings,” Juniper continued. “I hope this banishment ritual has cleared the path for all of you to enter Halloween with a rejuvenated mind and spirit.”
There was a small chorus of applause and joyous murmurings from the group.
“But the topic of banishment brings up–” Juniper’s face hardened like stone.
I swore the scar on her face was more pronounced than ever.
“–our primary concern for the evening. We need to discuss the plans for this year’s Halloween festivities.
I’m sure you are all excited for the pumpkin carving contest later this week… ”
There was another small chorus of cheers. I chuckled, even as the tense look on Juniper’s face made my stomach squirm.
“…But we must address a serious issue regarding our celebrations. As you all know, this year, the full moon falls on Halloween.”
Oh gods. My blood froze like ice in my veins. I’d known this, since werewolves followed the moon cycle just as closely as witches did. But I’d been so busy with the café, I hadn’t realized the consequences of the coinciding dates.
“And of course,” Juniper continued, her tone low and somber. “This means the werewolves from the local pack will be going through their full moon frenzy the same night as our Halloween festivities.”
“We can prepare for it!” A sudden shout rang out from the opposite side of the circle.
I looked up, and realized it was the pyromancer witch with the choppy red hair.
“We’ll hold the festivities in the town hall.
Willow can reinforce the wards. The kids can trick-or-treat in the afternoon, before the sun goes down. ”
There were more murmurings from the crowd as the witches discussed the pyromancer’s suggestions amongst themselves. I could hear uncertainty in their voices, but also hope. As if the red-haired witch’s ideas might work.
“Nina,” Juniper glowered at the pyromancer, her tone like that of a parent scolding a child. “I appreciate your ideas, and I know how much the holiday means to all of you. It’s just as important to me as well. But safety must be our utmost concern.”
Across the room, I saw Nina’s face fall. A disappointed silence dampened the whole coven.
“Therefore, as coven leader, I have spoken with Mayor Mariah about the issue. And we have both concluded that this year, due to the risks involved, we will be canceling all festivities on the day of Halloween.”
What had previously been quiet murmurings grew in volume and intensity, until nearly the entire coven had descended into arguing. There were shouts, boos, protests, and a whole slew of suggestions and ideas on how to make the festivities safe for everyone.
Amidst the chaos, I watched as Juniper’s face changed from unyielding rigidness to helpless panic. I studied the scar on the side of her face, the way the three lines dug into her skin and sprawled across her cheek, almost nicking the corner of her eye.
It crushed me. Juniper wasn’t doing this to be a spoilsport. There was real, raw fear in those hardened eyes. Like she knew firsthand how dangerous a frenzied werewolf could be.
And, as a werewolf myself, I agreed with her.
When I first arrived in Wisteria Grove, I told myself I would stay until the next full moon, and then flee before the frenzy took over.
But now that I was growing attached to both my job and this town, I’d talked myself into staying just a few weeks longer.
I had planned to run off the night of the full moon, isolating myself in some deep part of the woods where I’d be alone and a danger to no one.
My entire life, I’d spent the full moon frenzies on the safety of my home island, surrounded by nothing but other werewolves.
We’d hunt and howl and frolic without concern, the moonglow in our eyes blinding us to our own actions.
Every morning after, we’d awaken with pounding headaches and foggy memories, but we could continue our lives with the knowledge we hadn’t caused any real harm.
But out here? Werewolf appetites and aggression went through the roof during a full moon. I could injure someone. I could bite someone, turning them into a werewolf too.
I could kill someone.
Blood pounded in my temples, and I pulled my hood tighter over my head. The room was still chaos – Juniper hadn’t been able to quell the arguing. Based on the look on her face, she was too defeated to do so.
Shit, I thought as my heart galloped against my rib cage. Ears and tail.
I need to get out of here.
I slipped out of the meeting room, hardly noticed by the squabbling crowd, and pressed myself against a wall in the hallway. I slid down the wall until I was crouched with my knees in front of me, and took a few long, slow breaths.
In through your nose, out through your mouth.
Within a few minutes, I was calm. My lungs were relaxed and full – the usual anxiety-induced sensation of them being crushed by my own rib cage was gone.
I waited, pressing the back of my head against the wall, enjoying how quiet the hallway was and how the commotion in the meeting room was now nothing more than a dull murmur. My ears and tail were still hidden, but I wasn’t ready to return to the coven meeting until the arguing died down.
“Taking a breather, huh?”
I startled at the unfamiliar voice. My head shot up, and I saw a lone witch standing a few feet away, leaned against the opposite wall.
She had caramel-colored skin, tightly curled hair that fell just below her ears, and round glasses with thick black rims. She wore a loose, flowery dress with puffy sleeves, and like the rest of the witches, her dark hair was topped with a pointy hat.
She looked familiar, but I couldn’t recall where I’d seen her before.
“Oh, uh… yeah.” I stuttered in reply.
“Wait… you’re the new kitchen witch, aren’t you?” The witch cocked her head as she adjusted her glasses. “The one working at the café?”
“Yes. I am.”
“Ah. I think I’ve run into you a few times around town, but I’ve never introduced myself. I’m Mabel Faulkner. I run the grocery store and am a chloromancer, just like your employer.”
A chloromancer. I had seen Mabel before. She’d been at the front counter when I bought groceries the day before, and she was one of the witches who went outside to bury her slip of paper.
“I wish I had her herbalism skills, though…” Mabel continued in a wistful tone. “I wasn’t born into a chloromancer family like the café owner was, so I had to learn everything on my own. Anyway, what’s your name?”
“Uh, Annette Clarke. But you can call me Nettie.”
“Ah. Well, it’s nice to officially meet you, Nettie.”
I kept my face neutral and polite, but inside I was dying to ask more questions. I noticed despite praising Rowena’s witchcraft skills, Mabel had never mentioned her by name. It added to my suspicions that Rowena was an outcast in this town.
But why?
“Anyway, don’t mind them,” Mabel continued, gesturing down the hall to the meeting room. “Coven meetings sometimes get… heated. And, as much as we witches love Halloween, this time of year is especially hard for Juniper.”
“It is?” I scooted myself upright. The tense look on Juniper’s face at the coven meeting, combined with the way the dim light cast shadows across her scar, flashed in my mind.
“Yes.” Mabel let out a long, low sigh. “I’m assuming you haven’t heard her story?”
I shook my head.
“Juniper’s mother, Aster, was killed during a full moon frenzy years ago. Near Halloween. Juniper survived the attack and escaped, but was clawed across the face in the process.”
I winced. I couldn’t begin to imagine how painful Juniper’s injury was when it first happened. Even now, ten years later, the deep gouges and pink scar tissue were difficult to look at.
It pained me. And it made me sick. Not only for Juniper’s suffering, but for the horrifying reality that in the wrong place at the wrong time, I could do the same thing.
“She didn’t turn?” I asked. Werewolves were capable of spreading their shifting abilities through their saliva. Growing up, I’d heard horror stories how frenzied werewolves would lose control and turn entire towns. It was the main reason why humans had persecuted werewolves throughout history.