Page 141 of Castings & Curses

The California covens and their individual councils already filled the converted barn. Sage stepped through the open sliding barn doors. They’d arranged long tables in a square. Beverages, lunch, and a myriad of other snacks loaded down tables against the walls. More flowers and vines adorned the witch-house. A pair of witches waved feathers to disburse smoke rising from thick sage sticks to purify the witch-house and prepare for their solstice blessing. Calming lavender bubbled in bowls scattered around the barn to diffuse the sage and any potential tension that might arise.

Jessica motioned for Sage to join her at the head table, though they had another fifteen minutes until the meeting commenced. The Wilde Council included Aunt Jessica, her younger and absent world-traveler, aunt Juliette, Aspen, and Jessica’s daughters, twins Marina and Brianne, and the eldest Eden. Bonded warlocks surrounded the perimeter of the room and guarded the two entrances.

Glowering, Ricky joined Sage, the heat of his annoyance leeching down her side. “Don’t go off alone without a trusted warlock. Not after this morning.”

“I needed to clear my head,” she defended.

He growled. “Don’t do it again. Not until we get a handle on the sitch.”

“What did you find out?” Sage asked.

“Like you said, the arrows were real, not magical. I also found cat scat in the area.”

“Zelda’s familiar.” Jessica scanned the crowd for the other witch.

“Bitch,” Sage blasted out. “It’s always the Helwigs fighting for everything the Wildes have earned.”

“Wait.” Jessica gripped Sage’s arm. “You said multiple animals.”

Her arm may fall off if one more person locked on to it. Sage licked her bottom lip, thinking. “At least four. Bobcats roam our woods too. But with all the people here, you’d think they’d all scampered for the deep hills.”

“Zelda doesn’t have four familiars. She has three bonded warlocks, her summoning familiar and her main familiar.”

“Her warlocks might’ve been there,” Ricky shot back.

“They would’ve made too much noise. The Helwigs didn’t arrive until just before breakfast.” Sage glided her fingernails over her cheek, gnawed on a cuticle.

“Not if they used a protective ward.” Jessica released Sage’s arm. “My bet’s on Zelda.”

“We’ve got her dead to rights,” Ricky insisted.

“Hardly.” Sage rubbed her arm, trawling a fingernail across her skin. “Still not convinced.” She focused on the room at large. “I need to call the meeting to order. Ricky, look and listen for expressions, signs, anything from anyone who’s not a friend to the Wildes, or me.”

“Already on it.”

She fought the desire to fly off—broomstick not required—and escape her duties. She craved Rafael Reyes like no man or warlock she’d ever met. But she needed to suffer through the necessary evils of the Council meeting and festival. Not simply as host, but as the California, and soon the entire western region, High Priestess. Not for the first time did she selfishly wish her mother had never died and held the reins in her rightful place. As the youngest High Priestess in the U.S., Sage hated the weight of the expectations bogging down her shoulders.

Sage clenched the wooden gavel in her right hand and banged it down on the podium three times. The warmth of the smooth, worn wood brought her closer to her mother and grandmother, prior Wilde High Priestesses. The gavel clattered to the podium surface, and the raucous noise in the room dropped to a dull roar until all the witches took their assigned seats. Warlocks stood or sat in chairs behind their witches. Wilde warlocks and witches guarded the doors from the festivalgoers who wandered in by accident.

“Bright blessings and merry met.” Sage projected for all to hear. The witches threw out jovial greetings. After the noise died again, she picked up the electronic tablet and read the Midsummer blessing aloud:

Blessed be the turning of the wheel as the sun reaches its zenith on this Summer Solstice. May the warmth and light of this longest day fill us with joy and vitality, and may we be blessed with abundance throughout the season.

May the power of the sun infuse us with courage, strength, and inspiration to pursue our dreams and goals. May we honor the earth and all its creatures, and work to protect and preserve the beauty and balance of the natural world.

As we celebrate the solstice, may we remember the connection of all things and the cycles of life and death, growth and decay. May we embrace change with open hearts and minds, and may we find wisdom and guidance in the traditions of our ancestors.

Blessed be the Summer Solstice, and all the magic it brings.

Sage banged the gavel down and brought the summer Council meeting to order. Jessica, as the Council secretary, replaced her, and Sage returned to her seat at the head of the table behind the podium.

“First task on our agenda is to announce the vote count to install the western region High Priestess, a position left open when Jana Wilde passed.” Grumbles rose from the Helwigs and their allies seated near them, while most of the room projected healthy and positive vibes. “An unbiased third-party counted the vote because of accusations the Wildes might tamper with the election.” Jessica’s head swiveled to the Helwigs, held a few seconds, and turned back to face the center of the room. “Everyone agreed on the method and agreed to accept the vote as final.”

Imelda Helwig, Zelda’s younger sister, waved her hand as if swatting a fly. “Get on with it,” she mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear.

It wasn’t a given that Sage had won. She was young, hence the reason for the vote. If she had been forty-something with ten or twenty years of experience under her pointy hat, no one would’ve thought twice. Well, no one but their longtime adversaries. Zelda had been hell-bent on merging the small Scotts Valley and Santa Cruz covens for decades. Every attempt at usurping control got thrown in Zelda’s face, and she hadn’t attempted a coup since Sage’s mother became High Priestess. She was shocked Zelda hadn’t tried a takeover this year. Maybe the Helwigs had another evil coup up their sleeves. Or maybe Zelda had rigged the vote.

A witch from the unbiased Far Northern California coven handed the locked steel box to Jessica. Ben, Jessica’s sole warlock and husband, closed in on her. The voting company had mailed the box to the Far Northern coven and a key to three random-drawn covens. Such was the way of the current witchworld. Dreading the results, no matter which way they swung, Sage pushed out a sigh.

---