Page 3 of To Hunt a Demon King

“You’d better not,” she said, laughing. “You’ll poison everyone in the Coven.”

“Vera!”

Sebastian, son of one of the local farmers, waved as he jogged toward us. I grimaced. Sebastian was friendly enough, but I knew it was because witches had reputations of being loose, and his father’s nearby farm gave him an excuse to visit Vera often. Since witches didn’t marry, young men had nothing to fear from a night or two of pleasure with one of us.

Vera teased me mercilessly about my prudishness, telling me I should be enjoying the mortal boys that ventured this far out of their village instead of snubbing them. But I was uninterested in letting what was beneath my skirts become a conquest for brash young men. I rarely came across nice mortal boys who hadn’t met Vera first, anyway. She was like a ray of sunshine, always smiling and teasing and laughing, while I was more reserved. I just didn’t think it was worth it to put myself out there for what would probably be an awkward and disappointing romp, especially when I could take care of my needs just fine without a man fumbling over me.

“Elara,” Sebastian nodded politely, after greeting Vera with a kiss on the hand. “What brings you ladies out today?”

“Oh, just looking for somethingfunto do,” Vera said, smirking at Sebastian in a way that made him blush and me roll my eyes.

“I’m on my way to see your mother,” Sebastian said, face turning pink as he ran a calloused hand through his hair and looked hopefully down at Vera. “Maybe I’ll see you there in a bit?”

“Maybe,” Vera said, offering him a coy wink as we continued past him.

“I don’t understand why you like him,” I said, frowning over my shoulder at Sebastian. He was still standing on the road, grinning like an idiot. I rolled my eyes, giving Vera a scathing look. “Mortal men are only interested in what’s between your legs.”

“Not all mortal men,” Vera corrected, smiling at me mischievously. “Clearly someone caught your mother’s attention, so they can’t all be bad. Plus,” she added, poking me in the ribs gently with her elbow, “Sebastian isveryattentive.”

I wrinkled my nose in distaste as Vera laughed.

“Someday, someone will catch your eye,” Vera warned, hopping over a patch of mud and turning into the field of wildflowers that led to our favorite pond. “And then you’ll be asking me for all of my advice.”

“Unlikely,” I declared, giving her a withering look. Mama had books on anatomy, and I had helped her deliver children. I understood how it all worked, and when I was ready to have a witchling, I might consider it. I just didn’t really see the appeal other than that. “Especially when we live so far from any of them.”

“Well, when you’re ready to actually have some fun for a change, we can go tour the villages together,” Vera said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I’ll help you pick a good one.”

I frowned, but I didn’t tell Vera I had no intention of doing that any day soon.

We arrived at the little pond and sat in the shade of an oak tree. Vera began pulling things from her basket, including a crystal, a book of spells, and several bundles of sage, distracting me from the buzzing of insects and croaking of frogs in the waning afternoon light. I raised my brows at her expectantly.

“I hoped you would help me practice my invocation,” she said, somewhat sheepishly, as she continued to pull magical elements from her basket. “After all, a good witch should always be prepared.”

I smiled. The phrase was one that we commonly used when practicing spells.

All witch spells and charms required physical objects to channel the magic bestowed by the Goddess. Sometimes it was crystals or specific herbs burned, sometimes a pentagram drawn in chalk or the bones and feathers of a creature. Most spells required a specific incantation or witch signs drawn in a specific sequence. This spell was relatively simple, but Vera had a terrible memory for spells of any kind.

She had once excitedly told me that demon magic didn’t require any items or incantations, and that demons could simply will their magic into being. It sounded both highly convenient and highly dangerous. Mama had taught me when I was very young that all magic had a cost; a way to keep nature’s balance intact. It required thought and preparation and a pure heart. While I was very good at the craft and could perform some strong spells, no witch could just will magic into being. Demon magic, cast without a cost or consequence, seemed unnatural and downright dangerous in comparison. With that kind of power, it was no wonder that demons were evil creatures seeking to take over all other lands.

“I’m dismal at remembering all the words,” Vera said pleadingly, “and I need to perform it perfectly tomorrow night to be accepted as part of the Coven.”

The invocation of the Goddess was a witch’s first public spell, always cast at her first Coven meeting. It was a small magic, mostly just a prayer asking the Goddess for her blessing that left a subtle golden glow around the caster, which faded after a few hours, but the gathered witches would know if the magic wasn’t performed correctly.

“Well, I’m all practiced up,” I replied, shifting to sit up on my knees, “so I suppose we make a perfect pair.”

We worked on the spell for a while, me reminding Vera of the words while she cast the magic. It was cruel, I thought, that the Goddess had blessed me with the memory and ability for spells and incantations, while Mama refused to let me attend the meetings.

“I’m going to stay in Ostara, after the meeting,” Vera blurted out. We had practiced her invocation of the Goddess so many times that both of us could perform the spell from memory. I swallowed, feeling a tight ball in my chest. Suspecting this was coming didn’t make it easier to hear.

“Where?” I asked, looking up at her expectantly. She was beautiful, with warm brown skin and black curls and high cheekbones for days, but right now her normally bright eyes were avoiding mine.

“At my aunt’s,” she said, finally looking up and frowning. “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” I said, swallowing thickly. “I guessed you’d want to leave.”

“You could come with me,” she said, smiling faintly. “My aunt has room. You could find work at a shop or…” she trailed off, seeing my answer in my face.

“I can’t leave Mama,” I said. “I’m all she has.”

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