(please note I’m sharing this story as just a bit of fun and writing practice for me. It has not been edited or checked so is not a finished piece of work. There will be mistakes!)
Penelope ground the herbs, mushrooms and a few secret ingredients in the marble bowl which had been passed down from her grandmother. Penelope breathed deeply, enjoying the sharp, pungent smell and memories it evoked. Her mind calmed as she prepared the spell for the gathering. Normal humans wouldn’t be allowed to see what was about to happen in their sleepy village park. It was a simple spell of suggestion, mixed with a sprinkle of invisibility, made complex because it covered an area and not just a person. Anyone who walked near the area would simply decide that they didn’t want to walk down that path, in their minds eye, they would know that people were there, but it would be of no concern to them and therefore they couldn’t recall it if asked later.
Drakon was the first to arrive, as always. The tap of his cane announced his arrival. Looking impeccably sophisticated in his suit and tailored jacket. His beard trimmed to perfection. The ruby glass cane top dazzled. Penelope stared into his eyes and he gave a slight tilt of his head. She smiled, she’d seen too many people fall for the mesmerising glare of the ruby. Stare into it for too long and it felt as if you were sinking into another dimension and Drakon was apt to strike without warning.
His white earpiece was, as usua,l sticking out of his ear, Penelope didn’t see the use for such things. They were witches – they could communicate through their minds. Drakon was handsome, it couldn’t be denied. Many centuries ago, she had once thought she loved him, but their wild, passionate affair had soon fizzled out – now they were family, who didn’t quite trust each other if they were forced to drink the potion of truth.
“My darling Pen, not a day older I see. But even more beautiful if that is possible.” Drakon’s deep and smooth Italian accent conjured up images of fine bourbon, sipped in front of a roaring fire.
Penelope shook herself, Drakon and his memorising voice, still, after all the centuries he nearly had her. The wide smile showed off his gleaming perfect teeth.
“You should have been born a vampire and not a witch, Drakon. You still have the gift even after all this time and I know what to expect. God help the humans.”
He chuckled under his breath, “I don’t know what you mean, Pen. I’m just pleased to see your beautiful face. The Gods could only covet such beauty.”
“Well, one tries not to show off ones looks,” she winked at him.
He clutched his hand to his heart and covered his eyes, seemingly blinded by her beauty.
Moments later they laughed as they embraced.
“So, where are the others? Late, as usual?” Drakon enquired, leaning casually against a tree, as though it hadn’t been two hundred years since they’d last called the gathering.
“It won’t be long now.” As Penelope spoke, Kasha and Dominque appeared together. Kasha’s wolf, Aland stood between them. It bared its teeth and growled at Drakon for good measure.
“Ah, nice of you two to join us? Not like you to be late.” Drakon said, with a touch of mischief, ignoring Aland.
“I see you’re still alone dear Drakon, no surprise. It would be difficult to find a mate that is as self-centred as you,” Kasha said, stoking Aland’s head but making no move to quiet him.
“Ouch, insults already. It’s been two hundred years. I would have thought you would be over the rejection by now Kasha.” Drakon look wounded.
“Ignore my sweet brother, wife. He’s only trying to wind you up again. You know what he is like. You shouldn’t bite.” Dominque said, as he strode over to embrace his brother.
“Aland is very sensitive of my feelings, maybe he could show you if I’m over it?” Kasha enquired arching her brow, as she finally stroked Aland’s large head and he stopped growling.
“Maybe another time. Come here and give your brother-in-law a hug.”
They embraced, their normal mischievous quarrel forgotten. It had been too long since they had all been together.
“Well, shall we begin?” Penelope placed the bowl down on the top of her car bonnet and clapped her hands together.
The park disappeared and the pentagram table dominated the space in front of them. Built of solid oak with ornate carved chairs at each point. They took up their places, the two spaces had been vacant for over two hundred years, ever since the last attempt. They took a moment to remember the fallen; their family, it was always a difficult place to return to. A stone fire hearth blazed at the side which brought much needed warmth to the chilly autumn air. Aland left them and curled up in front of the fire.
Heads bowed, they waited, lost in their own thoughts. Would this time be any different. The sign had come, and they had to be ready. Just like the other witches would be. A full coven had been the challenge of every coven since the trials had weakened their people and broken their strength. The history books were full of the perils of being a witch. In times past they had found others but they had been too weak and had died trying or they unwilling to join them or believe in witches and then there were the ones who they found first.
‘Let us begin.’
C.L. Peache 