Page 8 of To Hunt a Demon King

Curses, she was going to have to sit there the rest of the meeting. I sunk lower in my chair, willing the eyes of the crowd away from me.

“And now, a matter that requires a vote of all members,” said my grandmother, gesturing to the darkened aisleway. There was whispering among the crowd as a clanking sounded, and I frowned at the dark aisle, trying to see what was approaching.

“This witch has betrayed her sisters,” said my grandmother as a hush fell through the room. Two witches were dragging a third up the aisleway, the clanking made by the chains that dragged in the floor and bound her hands and feet. She was completely naked, and fresh wounds oozed blood down her back. I felt the blood drain from my face as I realized she had been whipped.

“She has been found to be consorting with demons in the Bloodwood,” my grandmother continued, to the hushed whispering of the gathered crowd. “Do you deny it?”

“I do not,” said the naked witch in a proud voice. I didn’t recognize her, but that was hardly surprising since I’d never been allowed to meet most of the Coven.

“And I hope the Horned One crushes you,” the voice added, hatred in every syllable. Someone spat on the dais, and gasps and murmurs filled the chamber. I had no idea who the Horned One was, but it must be bad.

“The penalty for this treason is death,” my grandmother said. “Unless a sister wishes to request mercy?”

The room was silent for several seconds. My heart was pounding so fast it was becoming difficult to concentrate. I willed my breathing to calm and my heartbeat to slow as I watched the trial unfold.

“I request mercy,” came a voice so familiar to me, there could be no mistaking it. More murmuring erupted as Mama stood. She was across the room from me, and I was certainly cast in shadow, but I somehow felt her eyes meet mine across the darkness.

“On what grounds?” snapped my grandmother, anger rising in her tone as her expression became pinched.

“On the grounds that the Mother treats all life as sacred,” said Mama, gesturing around the room. My stomach hollowed. What would happen to Mama should the witch be found guilty? Was this normal for a witch trial?

“Let her be banished to the Bloodwood instead,” said Mama beseechingly. “Let the Goddess decide her fate.”

“The matter shall be taken to a vote,” said my grandmother severely. “All those in favor of sparing this witch?”

A few women rose to stand with Mama. My heart sank.

“All those in favor of condemning this witch?” my grandmother said. She had barely finished when chairs scratched against the floor and hundreds of witches stood to condemn their sister.

“So be it,” said my grandmother, turning to the prisoner. “For the crime of consorting with demons, I condemn you to death.”

With all the witches standing around me, it was difficult to see what happened next. There was a guttural scream, followed by a squelch, and a heavy thunk of something hitting the floor. My stomach turned.

“Remove the body,” came my grandmother’s voice. “And let us proceed with the meeting.”

Chapter 4

“Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised,” said Mama, pushing a cup of tea into my hands after I confessed what Vera and I had done.

After a fitful night of sleep, Mama had demanded to know why I looked like the dead, and I had been unable to think of a convincing lie. Sometimes, I wondered if Mama might have the gifts of a seer. She told me it was maternal instinct.

“Honestly,” she continued, sipping her own tea and looking gravely at the rain out the kitchen window, “I’m more surprised you didn’t sneak into a meeting before last night.”

“You are?” I asked, trying to sip my tea as the thunk of the dead witch’s body replayed over and over in my mind. Mama nodded, still unsmiling as she reached up to fiddle with the necklace.

“Every witchling tries it at some point,” she said, sighing heavily. “There are reasons I keep you away from your grandmother and the Coven,” she said, sitting across from me at the small kitchen table. “The brutality of Coven law is one of them.”

“I would have found out eventually,” I said. “You could have warned me.”

“I would have, if you had waited like we agreed,” Mama said tartly, pinching her lips. “Believe me, my heart, I have seen far worse at those meetings.”

She studied me over the top of her mug as I sat silently for a moment, contemplating the dead witch.

“Why did you speak for her?” I asked, frowning at Mama.

Mama sighed, lowering her mug and gazing at her folded hands.

“Everyone deserves mercy,” she said, looking up at me.

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