Page 7 of Potions and Proposals
“Pot, kettle,” she muttered, heading into the temple hidden in the mountain withhimfollowing close behind.
“Will you wait for a minute? I want to talk to you,” Benedict whispered as they walked the tunnel.
The smell of incense and clay comforted Lucy, but if the torches were already lit, she dreaded to think how long the coven had waited for them.
“Lucy!”
She stopped at the archway to the meeting hall, nearly causing a collision between them. He never called her Lucy. She hated his nickname for her – pumpkin, the food she hated more than any other– but her name on his lips was jarring.
“What?” she started, but an echoing clap interrupted her. The fires lining the temple shone brighter, highlighting the gods and goddesses, each the embodiment of the element and season they harnessed.
Lucy frowned when she saw all twenty-four families sat around the table: the Sundurns, Crawfords, Rodriguezes, Emerys and Larks, to name only those in higher standing positions. It was rare that everyone would attend, unless something serious was to be discussed. Lucy’s mum was at the head of the table, her robes shimmering in the moonlight cast in from above. Within the temple, her mum was their leader, and Lucy was just another witch subject to their laws.
“What is going on?” she whispered, nervous under the coven’s gaze. She offered them a faint smile as Benedict moved a hairsbreadth away from her.
“What makes you thinkIknow?” he stressed as they took the remaining seats at the table.
She didn’t trust him.I should’ve known he was leading me into a trap.The thought did nothing to ease her fidgeting beneath the table. They were the only descendants in attendance, which meant they were here to discuss something far more important than the upcoming Autumn Festival.
“How good of you both to join us,” said Gwendoline, the head of the Matherson family, sitting at the right hand of the High Priestess.
“Sorry, Benedict had trouble with his car,” Lucy lied, happy to dump him in it. Benedict’s gaze bore into the side of her head, but she was too busy analysing the half-empty silver goblets on the table. It looked like the rest of the coven had arrived much earlier than both she and Benedict had been informed to attend.
“It’s not like the two of you to travel together,” Gwendoline commented, tucking a strand of her severely cropped silver bob behind her ear.
“I commissioned Benedict to collect her,” High Priestess Wilhelmina said, addressing the table. “Since they’re the topic of tonight’s meeting.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to portal us here,” Benedict conceded, leaving out Lucy’s refusal to go with him. At least she knew he’d been telling the truth about her mum requesting him to attend with her.
“It seems you’re both getting a little too comfortable using your magic in front of the magless,” Gwendoline said, her angular nose in the air.
Lucy’s surprise stopped her from fidgeting. The Mathersons believed magic shouldn’t be hidden; it wasn’t like her to scold them for its use.
She’s probably trying to show the rest of the coven that they have changed their ways,she thought, noticing how the coven watched Benedict favourably. Since he’d converted Matherson Manor into a hotel, bringing both magical beings and maglessto the town from all over, he’d become the golden child. Lucy couldn’t resent his success entirely; he had increased the small town’s revenue, and she wanted Foxford to flourish.
“We didn’t wish to keep you all waiting,” Benedict apologised.
“You’re both here now. Let’s get down to it.” Gwendoline rose from her chair, her statuesque figure towering over the rest. Lucinda eyed her mum with a frown, wondering why Gwendoline was addressing them.
“Before your arrival, Lucinda, Wilhelmina informed us of your progress with the Order. We’re all impressed by how much you have improved our relations with our ancient enemies,” Gwendoline said. Lucy followed her piercing blue gaze cutting through the members around the table, gauging their reaction to her working with the Order. The Crawfords, ever stoic, both offered Lucy what she perceived to be an attempt at a smile. Lucy wanted to tell them not to hurt themselves.
“You could callourfamilies ancient enemies, but like my work with the Order, we overcame our differences for the greater good,” she replied to Gwendoline, hearing everyone hold their breath. She needed to remind the coven that she wasn’t a supporter of those who had hunted them. “We called a truce for the sake of the formation of Foxford, and this coven, my work with the Order, ensures that a mutual understanding and respect continues to grow between us. We can and have learned a lot from each other. I do my best to ensure that relationship continues to develop and doesn’t sour, for all our sakes.”
“A Hawthorne through and through.” Gwendoline beamed. “Your power for forgiveness has no limit. Everyone here can attest to it. We all know you’ll do great things, for both this coven and Foxford.” Gwendoline rested a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “As your mother’s right hand, I’m happy to inform you that ourdearest High Priestess has expressed her intention to retire her position this coming All Hallow’s Eve.”
There was a round of applause, but Lucy froze. All she could do was stare wide-eyed at her mum. She barely noticed Benedict tense beside her. At breakfast this morning, her mum hadn’t uttered a single word.
She swallowed her surprise, forcing her expression to remain neutral. She knew how much her parents wanted to travel, and didn’t blame the High Priestess for wanting to retire. The women in her family had sacrificed themselves for five generations, and Lucy had accepted long ago that she’d be next.
Taking a steadying breath, she addressed the coven.“I’ll do my best to fill the position to the utmost of my ability. I hope you’ll put as much faith in me as you have in those who have come before me. I can only hope for your support and guidance during this time,” she said, playing up to the egos of those nodding in agreement.
“How can we be sure you’re ready to handle such a responsibility?” Mrs Crawford chimed in, resting her elbows on the table.
“I don’t speak as her mother, but as a member of this coven who wishes the best for each citizen of Foxford.” Lucy’s mum finally spoke, offering the table some assurance. “I wouldn’t consider stepping down if I were not sure of my daughter’s ability. In Lucinda’s work with the Order, I’ve witnessed her ability to navigate relationships with those who seek any excuse to harm our kind with grace and patience.”
The words helped ease the tension in the temple. At home, Mum was light-hearted and playful, and never did anything without music to dance along to. In this temple, however, she was downright fierce. Lucy was proud to be her daughter.
“There is no arguing about Lucinda’s love nor dedication to our town, but we have to take into account her recent actions,” Gwendoline said. The rest of the table nodded.
