Page 92 of Boss Witch

“Where are we going?” he asked finally.

“You’ve violated the first law of being a witch, and that’s not to harm your fellows,” Agent B said.

Agent A continued, “We’re transporting you to an official hearing. Since you’ve admitted to your crimes, there’s no trial, only judgment.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Do you know what happened to my father?”

The two conferred silently, then A said, “He’s currently at large. Our best agents are closing in on him.”

If he were a better son, he might’ve pleaded for leniency, but after what he’d suffered at his father’s hands, Gavin thought Jase deserved whatever he got.

After that, they drove for a couple of hours and crossed the state line into Michigan. Beyond this point, he had no expectations, only the determination to submit to whatever they required of him.

It was late afternoon when they arrived, and Gavin stared in astonishment. “It’s a campus,” he said.

Well, that might be an exaggeration. This was a small community college that had clearly seen better days, tan brick buildings arranged in an L.

“What were you expecting?” Agent A asked, evincing curiosity for the first time.

“I’ve no idea,” he admitted.

“The head of the council teaches here. American history,” Agent B said with a flicker of amusement. “All the others will participate via teleconference.”

They escorted him into the building that seemed more like a secondary school than an institution of higher learning, and he found a portly, middle-­aged gentleman waiting for him in a classroom at the end of the hall. Perhaps he’d expected more pomp and ceremony, but there were no robes or masks, nothing to add gravitas to the meeting. Yet there was a shimmer of energy in the air, a feeling he couldn’t place.

“You won’t recognize him the next time you meet,” said Agent A.

Illusion. He’s changed his appearance.

It was fascinating, even as he feared what was in store. Trying to be respectful, he lowered his head. Not easy since he towered over the other man.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” The brisk tone made it sound like they were about to review some not particularly important paperwork, not seal Gavin’s fate.

The man tapped his laptop, and five other faces appeared on-­screen, none of which he recognized. He didn’t linger on them, as they were probably altered as well.

Then the witch council leader said, “Gavin Rhys, you stand accused of harming your own. Do you acknowledge these wrongs?”

“I do,” he said, acutely conscious that it was a dreadful echo of a wedding vow.

“And how do you feel about your past work, knowing what you do now about the origins of the witch hunting order?”

He swallowed hard. “I regret everything. If I could take it back, I would. I wish I could undo every—­”

“You can,” a soft female voice cut in. “First, you’ll study here and learn what it means to be a witch. There are hidden courses here, meant for people like you, who come to our heritage late. Normally, you’d have been taught by your family, but it’s never too late to learn.”

Oddly, the more he listened, the more he thought this voice sounded like…Gladys.But that’s ridiculous, right?

The woman went on, “Once you’ve completed your education and learned what you must, then you’ll begin reparations. The council will pair you with a diviner who will assist you in tracking down every witch you had a hand in harming. In partnership with a more experienced witch, you’ll heal the magical connection that was severed by the order and restore the memories that were taken.”

He froze, unable to believe those things were even possible. “Can I really do that? I can make it right?”

“In time,” another councilor replied.

“I don’t care how long it takes,” he said then. “I’ll devote myself to this until I mend all the hurt I put into the world. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He would probably always hate himself a bit for not stopping on his own. For following his father’s edicts like he didn’t have his own mind. But this might eventually mitigate some of the self-­loathing.

“Do you accept this judgment?” the leader asked.

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