Page 40 of The Lone Wolf Café
Chapter Ten
The Wisteria Grove town hall was small yet beautifully historic. It was the only brick building in town: two stories tall, flanked by thick carved pillars, and laced with elegant trim around the roof. I pushed open the heavy double doors and entered the dimly-lit lobby, which was full of framed photos and artifacts behind museum glass outlining the town’s history.
There were details of werewolf attacks in the 1800s, witch-hunts by nefarious humans in the early 1900s, and even modern-day artwork created by the students of Wisteria’s Grove’s only schoolhouse. It was a magnificent assortment of records, and as I studied the antique amulets and weavings protected by the thick glass, I wondered how much of this town’s history had been lost to time. Humans and witches always had a tense relationship, and the details of the 1900s witch hunts made me grimace. When I came across an old black-and-white photo of a human setting a witch hat on fire, I decided it was best to turn away and move on.
Past the lobby, two long hallways sprouted out from either side like the branches of a tree. Each hallway contained a series of doors, most of which were closed. But a few of them had windows, or the doors were left cracked open, and I was able to get a glimpse inside.
The lights weren’t on, but from what I could see, the rooms contained simple office furniture and piles of messily stacked papers. They were much like the human offices I’d read about in books, but with a few stark differences. Such as the assortment of crystals lining the shelf of one of the desks, or the foot-tall statue of the moon goddess on another. One room even had a giant pentagram tapestry hanging on the far-left wall.
We had a town hall on Hollenboro, though it was only a single room, and the piles of papers in the cluttered space nearly touched the ceiling.Magical or not, every being has to deal with paperwork.
I heard a commotion coming from an open door at the end of the hall, and I could smell a faint trail of witch magic leading right to it. I followed my nose and entered a large, dark, very open room. The only furniture was a circle of chairs that had clearly just been set up, and a large, ornate altar against the back wall.
Over a dozen faerie fire lanterns hung from the ceiling, suspended by translucent string so it looked like they were floating. Their soft rainbow glow created a warm, comforting atmosphere, which was further amplified by the scent of burning herbs and the soft murmur of chatter among the few witches who were already there.
I stepped closer, and the full details of the altar came into view. It was made of wood, with intricate depictions of the moon cycles carved into its surface. Behind the wooden platform was a large pentagram woven from sticks and pine needles, and on top of it were a variety of offerings, including burning dried herbs, tiny polished crystals, and flickering tealight candles.
Three of the witches were working on the altar, placing and removing and rearranging elements in ways I couldn’t comprehend. One of them was Juniper, who seemed to be overseeing the crystal offerings. I watched as she contemplatively pulled them out of a leather pouch, taking great care in choosing their placement and orientation. Silas was around her neck, with his slender head stretched out toward the crystals, as if he were helping determine their arrangement.
That was when I remembered Juniper was the High Priestess of the coven.
Over the next ten minutes, more witches filed in, often in pairs or groups. They spoke in low, hushed tones, which I realized was because the room was a sacred place of worship. Upon entering, most of them walked up to the altar, either pausing for a few moments or placing an offering upon the carved table. Then, after making rounds to say hello to everyone, they picked a chair in the circle and took a seat. Many of them had their elemental companions, and the creatures’ various essences glowed a rainbow of colors as they perched at their bonded’s feet or settled on their shoulders.
By the time the giant antique clock in the corner struck five, there must’ve been forty witches seated. There were only a few empty spaces left. I sat quietly, hands folded in my lap, using my superior senses of hearing and smell to take in the scene before me. I took deep breaths and fought back the lump in my throat. None of the witches were openly ignoring or avoiding me, but I still felt like an outsider. I wasn’t privy to the years of chatter and gossip between them.
A few of them offered friendly smiles and waves as Juniper called the meeting to attention. I smiled and waved back, using the breathing exercise Rowena taught me to keep calm. The last thing I needed was my ears and tail popping out in a room full of witches.
“So, first order of business,” Juniper clapped her hands together, and the gemstone bracelets on her wrists jingled. Silas flicked his tongue, his head periscoped above Juniper’s shoulders. “I sincerely apologize for the severe delay in calling this meeting. As you know, we had anincidentearlier this month, during the new moon…”
My blood chilled at Juniper’s clenched tone when she uttered the wordincident, and even her facial scar seemed to flash with anger.
The “incident” was with the local werewolf pack. It had to be.
“But despite the fact it is no longer the new moon,” Juniper continued, “I still want to maintain our focus on banishing negative energy. All of you should have a slip of paper and a pencil underneath your chairs–”
There was a sudden shuffling of feet and chair legs as people peeked beneath their seats. Under mine, I found a rolled-up piece of paper and a glittery black pencil, freshly sharpened.
“We’re going to use this slip of paper to write down anything you want to banish this evening. Negative feelings, past regrets… whatever is on your mind. I’ll get the fireplace going, and we can all go into Halloween feeling lighter and refreshed.”
The room grew quiet as everyone hunched over and focused on their slips of paper. I balanced mine on my thigh and began writing, the sharp graphite of the pencil making the skin beneath my dress twitch.
The first thing I wanted to banish was my anxiety. I considered banishing my ears and tail, too, since they wouldn’t stop popping up. But I wasn’t sure how witch banishing rituals worked, and I didn’t want my shifting abilities to go awayforever. So, I left that off the list.
I peered around the room, making sure no one was watching me, and wrote downfear of being discovered. I hoped it would be specific enough, because the thought of writing down the wordwerewolfmade me paranoid. Gods forbid one of the other witches see the paper before I could burn it.
I wrote down a few more things.Worrying about my family. Feeling guilty about my decision to leave.I grimaced as I scrawled each sentence across the paper. I knew this ritual was supposed to be freeing, but dredging up every fear and worry in my subconscious was making me feel sick.
But maybe that’s how this works.So I continued writing.
Getting attached to the café.
Not believing in my baking skills.
My feelings for Row–
I stopped writing. The last sentence set my cheeks on fire, and I couldn’t bring myself to write out the rest of it. I crossed it out instead, scraping my pencil across the letters in one swift stroke. But before I could finish, I heard a light snap and felt the pencil buckle under my grasp.
The tip had broken. I pulled it away from the paper, inspecting the splintered wood and snapped graphite, and sighed.
