Page 60 of Bewitched By the Wicked Witch
"But now we have proof," I said, gesturing toward the box containing our amphibian witnesses. "Tommy and Cate can testify about the network, identify other conspirators."
"Assuming they're willing to talk," Callum pointed out reasonably. "And assuming we can guarantee their safety long enough to extract that testimony."
"Leave that to me," Gran said with the quiet authority of someone who still had considerable influence despite her retirement. "I have friends in the High Council, people who remember what magical communities were like before Pure Blood rhetoric started poisoning minds. They'll want justice for this."
Over the next several hours, as the rescued girls slowly began to recover and the immediate crisis passed, I found myself studying my reflection in the darkened window with growing concern. The power I'd displayed in the underground chamber hadn't fully receded. I could stillfeel it thrumming beneath my skin and see it in the way the shadows seemed to respond to my presence.
"Are you alright?" Callum asked during a quiet moment when the others were resting.
I considered the question seriously. "I don't know," I admitted. "What I did down there, what I became... I'm not sure I can return to being who I was before."
"Maybe you don't need to," he suggested. "Maybe this is who you were always meant to be."
"A woman who turns people into frogs when they irritate her?" I asked with dark amusement.
"A protector," he corrected. "Someone strong enough to stand against the kind of evil that Tommy and his allies represent."
Before I could respond to that surprisingly thoughtful observation, a knock came at the front door. Gran went to answer it, returning moments later with three figures in the formal robes of High Council investigators.
"Agent Renshaw," the lead investigator said, his voice formal but not unfriendly. "Agent Thorne sends her regards. We understand you've uncovered evidence of a significant conspiracy?"
"More than evidence," Callum replied, gesturing toward my containment box. "We have the conspirators themselves, along with four rescued victims and detailed knowledge of their operation."
The investigator's eyebrows rose significantly as he took in the scope of what we were presenting. "This is... extensive. We'll need full statements from everyone involved, magical analysis of the binding sites, coordinationwith law enforcement in other affected communities."
"Whatever you need," I said firmly. "But I want guarantees that these girls will be protected, that their families will be safe from retaliation."
"You have our word," the investigator assured me. "The High Council takes these matters very seriously."
As the formal questioning began, I found myself thinking about the future with a mixture of apprehension and determination. The conspiracy we'd uncovered wouldn't be easily dismantled, it had roots that ran deep, connections that stretched far beyond what we'd discovered in Old Hollows. But for the first time in years, I felt something that might have been hope.
I had found my power, discovered my purpose. The missing girls were safe. And maybe, just maybe, we could build something better from the ashes of what had been destroyed.
The sun was setting over Old Hollows as the investigators finished their initial questioning, the box containing our amphibian conspirators was now safely in official custody. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new battles to fight against the forces of prejudice and hate that still lurked in the shadows of the magical world.
But tonight, we were together. We were safe. And we had struck a significant blow against those who would use fear and ideology to justify atrocity.
It was enough. For now, it was enough.
Twenty-Seven
Sage
The aftermath of rescuing four traumatized teenagers and converting two conspirators into amphibians probably should have felt more triumphant. Instead, as Callum and I made our way back through Old Hollows' predawn streets after delivering everyone safely to Gran's house, I found myself hoping we could slip home unnoticed.
Of course, that wasn’t what happened.
"Tommy Bishop and Cate Bennett were behind it all," Callum explained to the mob, his voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to being taken seriously. "They conspired to kidnap and torture innocent girls in the name of their twisted ideology. Sage and I discovered their operation, and we ended it."
Before the crowd could process this information properly, a figure pushed through their ranks with the determination of someone who had a great deal invested in maintaining the current narrative. Councilman Bishopemerged from the mob like a particularly unpleasant jack-in-the-box, his face twisted with the kind of malice that comes from having your world view threatened by inconvenient facts.
"Lies!" he spat, his eyes bulging with indignation. "My son would never stoop to such depravity. This is nothing more than an evil witch's trick, a ploy to escape righteous justice!"
I felt something dangerous shift inside me as his words registered. The careful control I'd maintained throughout this entire ordeal began to fray at the edges, and the shadows around me deepened in response to my rising anger.
"Your son," I said with deadly calm, "was caught in the act of draining magical energy from teenage girls. But please, continue defending his honor. It's really helping your case."
The crowd's uncertainty crystallized into hostility at Bishop's words, and suddenly hands were grabbing me from behind. I pulled my magic to me instinctively, giving into the darkness that had been waiting patiently for an excuse to express itself properly.
