Page 42 of Goblins Don't Count
“Probably not, but that’s no reason not to explain yourself.”
“I want to protect the witches and mages with neutral magic from the fear and prejudice of those around us. I want to unite us so that we are safe.”
“You feel like your safety is threatened?”
He shook his head. “No. I have the happy situation of being very talented at controlling the rhetoric that surrounds me. Other witches are not so lucky. The last witch burning was two years ago. The last stoning was three years before that. Ten years ago, there were fifty times as many, particularly in some parts of the world. We’ve come a long way. We’re going to keep progressing.”
I checked his aura. It was a bright flame of intensity. Whatever other motives he had, he was very sincere about protecting witches from their own reputations.
When we got to the coven’s woodlot, I was surprised to see the parking lot packed. I had to pull in under a bush that swallowed the front half of my hood, between a striped truck and a red hatchback. Looked like Clarinda was here as well. My brother’s yellow bike was here too. I pulled out my phone to check messages. Yep, there was one from my mother about there being a required meeting for all coven members. I wasn’t sure if I was an actual member, but I guess it was good I was here.
“They need more parking,” he said, staring at the extremely narrow space between his door and the car next to him.
“You’re magical. I’m sure you can fit.” I patted his shoulder, grabbed Mr. Raccoon, holding him on my hip like a baby as I got out, squeezing out of my side as well. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be here long.
I made a face at Mr. Raccoon, because I was starting to feel very uneasy as we walked towards the clearing. At least there would be sausage rolls.
There was a circle of witches larger than any I’d ever seen before, men and women who were chanting with glazed faces that said that they’d been at it for hours.
Portalia looked at me with an ominous scowl. “What are you doing, Rynne, bringing an outsider into our midst?” She raised her chin so she could look down her nose at Winston while her turbaned head bobbed in our direction.
My mother and brother were looking at me, my mother irritated because I was late, my brother with a warning in his eyes, like I shouldn’t have come. Clarinda was sitting next to my brother, holding his hand, so I saw her face when she saw me, bored and amused, and then how it changed into this lightning strike of intense hatred when she saw the person standing next to me. She knew him, hated him, and would happily torture him to death while eating sausage rolls. Perfect. I’d led an enemy into the camp.
I cleared my throat. “Winston the Warlock would like to give a spiel about joining the Wide Witch Coven.”
“We aren’t interested,” Clarinda spat, still openly glaring at the warlock, who tensed up slightly at being the object of so much rage, but he kept his face smooth.
“Then perhaps you’ll tell me what reason you have to be gathered in such a powerful circle of summoning,” Winston the Warlock said with a slight smile at Clarinda.
“I am the leader here!” Portalia snapped. “We will not explain our doings to a pompous show pony like yourself. You make a mock of our kind, a spectacle.”
Most of the other females were giving him looks of barely restrained awe. No, there was no restraint. There were giggles, and blushes, and overall lust, because he was handsome, and famous, and even more charismatic in person than he was on the screen.
I sighed and turned to go, but Winston grabbed my shoulder, holding me in place.
“I sense that you’re summoning one of your members who has stirred up the local community. The same reason I’m here, brought in by rumors of a powerful witch who is openly compelling the rich and powerful in their own governor’s ball.”
Portalia’s eye twitched. “If you already know, why do you ask? Our circle hasn’t come up with anything. It’s probably someone passing through town, not part of our coven, or we’d be able to summon her.” She stood up, dropping everyone’s hands, and then everyone else stood up too, stretching like they’d been there for hours.
“But you realize the danger,” Winston said, still keeping a grip on my shoulder. If he outed me after he blackmailed me that he wouldn’t, I’d help Clarinda kill him as slowly as possible. “Now is the time to join with the cooperative before you’re targeted. The fear, the hatred, it will all grow until you’re forced to remain trapped here where you have the numbers to defend yourselves, or you’ll have to flee. The co-op is the only organization large enough to keep external forces at bay.”
“We’d rather be stoned than join anything that you are part of,” Clarinda said, turning to stalk away.
Portalia rolled her eyes, frowning after her before refocusing on Winston. “She is not the leader, but she makes a good point. We aren’t interested. We’ll deal with this matter on our own.”
“Perhaps we should listen to him,” my mother said, frowning. “Our front window was broken with rocks covered in paper with ‘burn the witch’ on them. And it was only last night. The news channels are doing their best to whip the populace into a feeding frenzy, like this witch, or whatever she was who could stomach dating a goblin, personally insulted them.”
Ah. Maybe I had done that. I edged away from Winston, but his grasp was no joke. I kicked his leg, and he released me, but the interaction had my mother frowning at me.
“Rynne, you have relations with the goblins. Perhaps you can ask them who she was since our summoning failed so miserably.”
Well, I was here, so maybe it had worked after all. I opened my mouth to say, ‘Sure. I’ll ask all the goblins,’ but what came out was, “It was me. I’m dating the Goblin Authority.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth while everyone stared at me in growing alarm. I stumbled away from the group, but Portalia gestured, and the next moment I was surrounded, Winston as well. He managed to look comfortable in the midst of a foaming sea of rage.
“What did you do?!” Portalia wailed while everyone else stared at me with shock and horror. I’d betrayed them, me, someone they’d trusted.
I shook my head, raising my hands. “Nothing! I didn’t compel anyone. I was just asking some uncomfortable questions.”
