Candles from hundreds of sconces atop the rafters lit up the cathedral-like structure on the lawn of Oleander. The shimmering light cast wavering shadows on the arches of the ceiling, sending amber reflections onto the stone floor below. The members of the Consort sat in circular rows around a center circle housing the round table of Council members. Salem thought it odd for the seating to be arranged in this way until Olympia explained that the arrangement made it possible for the Consort members to be closer to the Council than had it been staged in a more traditional auditorium style. She also pointed out that the seating circles reflected their strong belief in infinity and how everything in nature is connected with no apparent beginning or end—like energy. Salem thought of her husband and son when her grandmother said this, it comforted her somewhat to know that they might still go on somehow.

  Olympia and Salem were seated in the fourth row, facing three Council members straight on. Salem felt strange to be looking at side views or the back of the head of several other Council members. They were not exactly sure where Zelda had wandered off to, but knowing Zelda’s penchant for gossip, she was probably off collecting stories for later telling.

  The Council identified themselves for all of the first-time Consort members: Brimford Uding, Ernestine Craven, Millicent Davis, Jason’te Barstow, the despicable Atheidrelle Obreiggon (who was standing in as proxy to her husband, the actual Council member), Amory Vendell, and of course Ursula Craven the Queen of the Consort. All voices were quietened as Ursula began her speech.

  “Welcome all of you to the Summer Consort. I am pleased to see many new faces here tonight. I would like to welcome you to our association, and I would also like to thank the Obreiggon family for offering their magnificent home for our gathering.”

  A round of applause went out from those gathered as Atheidrelle rose from her chair and bowed. Salem and Olympia sat motionless through the ovation.

  “We will begin tonight,” Ursula continued, “with current business. We have many in our congregation tonight from our new charter Wiccan organization. Millicent will later be giving a lecture on proper conduct and enlightenment. I realize your covens primarily center around earth magic, and a great deal of our association business revolves around witches born as magical beings, so we have added several lectures to the docket to reflect your individual needs.”

  Salem observed some of the members seated in the audience smirk to one another and a few even made eye rolls. Salem always knew that in the witching world Birth Witches tended to look down upon Regulars who took up the arts of witchcraft. Typically, they were thought of as “playing with magic” rather than magic being a part of the makeup of their beings. Even she had to admit there was quite a difference between a normal person who chose to take up the practice of witchcraft and someone who was born with actual powers they had to learn to control. Salem had seen the Wiccan fad grow and decline depending on what was happening in popular culture at the time. Movies like The Craft and Harry Potter always spurred interest in the occult. Some witches found that offensive, but Salem was not among them. To Salem, it was an honor that regular people wanted to learn about their beliefs and their world. It also had made life much easier over the last generation because Salem didn’t seem so unhinged if she confided to someone close that she was a witch. Of course, no one ever really understood that when she said “witch” she meant WITCH. Frankly, watching the condescending looks from the Consort members as Ursula talked about the Wiccans in the room made Salem embarrassed that her own people could feel so prejudiced and intolerant when they’d spent centuries hoping for acceptance themselves.

  Ursula finished whatever it was she was saying that Salem had stopped listening to and moved on to other topics. The first item caught Salem’s immediate attention because it seemed to be directly aimed at her and those also possessing her unique gift. “The next thing I wish to discuss strictly concerns such magical beings, particularly witches gifted in the ways of time intervention. Too many witches are halting time for one reason or another, and it has got to stop. Consider the rest of mankind for a moment. Witches are not the only living beings on this planet. The Earth rotates around the sun at its natural pace whether you freeze time or not. When you unfreeze the time you halted, clocks jump forward, and all the people without your gifts have lost part of their day. It doesn’t always go unnoticed. A few minutes here and there can be explained by the mind as losing track of the time, but hours are a lot harder to justify. Remember that people have jobs to fulfill and lives to lead. It is grossly inconsiderate to halt time unless absolutely necessary for some kind of life and death situation. Please respect the rest of Earth’s creatures by not shrinking their day. Your power is great and should only be used in emergency situations. Not to keep stores from closing until you have made all your purchases or to direct revenge on a rude member of a restaurant waitstaff or to wedge your car in to the front of school pickup lines. Powers are for bigger uses than making your personal lives more convenient.”

  “I feel awful,” Salem whispered to her grandmother. “I have done all three of those things.” She didn’t, however, feel any guilt over the last time she used her gift—that morning with David, when she’d frozen time to have one last moment with her husband. She would never regret that.

  Brimford Uding signaled Ursula. She stepped away from her seat and approached the old man, who passed a piece of information in her ear. Ursula stifled a grin and returned to her place before continuing.

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  “It has been also brought to my attention that one among you has been reported to be donning some sort of superhero costume, assigned yourself a persona, and has been crime fighting in your community lately.”

  The members of the association all chuckled in unison. They looked around the audience trying to see if anybody was blushing or ducking enough to reveal the identity of the culprit. The very idea that someone was trying to play Superman or Wonder Woman with their powers was pretty amusing.

  “It is commendable for one to use their powers to help people. I applaud the effort. After all what are witches for in the Natural Order if not to assist those who cannot help themselves. However, I caution you that such theatrical performances place a magnifying glass on our kind and puts us all in harm’s way. Please cease your comic book escapades. Leave the crime fighting to our community’s brave men and women in blue.”

  The crowd gave another laugh as Ursula continued.

  “Next on the agenda will be our upcoming election. As many of you may know already, I have not opted to run for re-election as Leader of this Consort. It has been a glorious six years as your queen, but I am ready to step down and allow someone new to take the helm. To all newcomers tonight, let me explain our governing process. We, the members of the Council, are similar to a Supreme Court. There are six members to the Council and the King or Queen fills the seventh chair as a kind of president.”

  A woman raised her hand from the second row facing Ursula. “Yes?” Ursula said, pointing to her.

  “I have a question,” the woman began. “My name is Jana Cummings. I am the head of the southeast order of the Wiccan Association. This is my first meeting.”

  “Welcome to the Consort, my dear,” Ursula replied. “You may ask your question.”

  “I was wondering how a person becomes a member of the Council, or how you can run for Queen.”

  “Good question, Jana. For those of you who are new to our organization or haven’t belonged to the Consort since the last election, a King or Queen is elected every three years by the entire Witches Association. Each member casts one vote. Many witches that belong to the Association but do not attend our meetings will have their vote cast by their Coven leader.

  Council members are a different matter. A Council member is appointed by a ruling King or Queen and serves for life, or until retirement.”

  Jana sat back down, and Ursula moved on with her speech. “As I said, I shall not be running for re-election as Queen. Therefore, anyone who wishes to throw their hat into the ring should do so by the Autumn gathering where the nominees’ names will be presented. This will give Association members three months to consider the choices before we vote at the Winter Consort. Any man or woman interested in being the Consort’s next King or Queen should contact Jason’te Barstow. He resides in Birmingham, Alabama. Cards containing his contact information—phone number, email, and social media accounts—will be at the sign-in table upon your leaving here tonight. Now I pass the meeting over to my mother, Ernestine.”

  The striking lady Salem met earlier in the evening stood from her chair. “Thank you, Ursula. I would like to talk about finances tonight. As most of you are aware, the Consort has been attempting to remove pollution from Junction Lake in Butler County, Tennessee. Thanks to many generous contributions we were actually able to purchase the lake before it was completely ravaged by the industries dumping their waste. We have acquired the land with the donated funds but are running short for our detoxification plans. I ask anyone who can afford it to donate to our cause of water restoration. I know some of you have more than others, but anything is appreciated. See me after the meeting if you wish to make a donation.”

  Ernestine sat down, and Brimford Uding stood to face the congregation. “Hello friends,” he began. “I will now call for any members of the Consort who have personal business to stand and be recognized.”

  A woman stood.

  “Yes, Mrs. Connelly.”

  “Mr. Uding, I have had the unfortunate situation of having to place my mother into a nursing home due to her advancing Alzheimer’s.” The woman was almost in tears.

  “I am terribly sorry, Mrs. Connelly,” Brimford said compassionately. “Your mother was a wonderful friend to many of us and has been an honored Consort member all of her life.”

  “My first request is to have Mama’s membership to the Association relinquished. I would also like for her sister Clara to be registered as the new head of our family Coven. I work as a nurse in the nursing home where my mother is a patient, and I plan to be spending more of my time there with her. That will eliminate me from taking over the coven. My aunt is the better option at this time.”

  “Certainly, certainly,” Brimford replied. “The Consort will make the changes, and we wish you well as you traverse these uneasy waters. May the strength of Demeter be with you.”

  “Also,” Mrs. Connelly added, “I request that the Council bind Mama’s powers. She is no longer able to control her actions, and her powers can be dangerous if left in her unstable hands.”

  “We understand,” Brimford said. “As law dictates, an investigation must be completed to confirm your mother’s condition.” He faced Ursula. “As a long-standing friend to the Connelly family, I will personally conduct the investigation into Jewel Connelly’s mental state and report back to the Council. We will remove her powers once a confirmation is made.”

  The Council members nodded in agreement.

  “Next order of business?” Brimford asked the congregation.

  Olympia nudged Salem. “Don’t be afraid, dear. It must be done.”

  Salem raised her hand and stood. Voices gasped from around the rows of seats. Whispers of “that’s her” and “Nacaria’s daughter” were heard in every direction. Atheidrelle glared at Salem from her seat on the Council.

  “Yes, Ms. Blanchard,” Brimford acknowledged. “What is your business?”

  “My son,” she said timidly. “The cremation of my son.”

  The crowd collectively gasped again; this time it was one of sympathy.

  “I am profoundly sorry for your loss, Salem,” Brimford frowned. Olympia noticed a smirk of satisfaction come over Atheidrelle’s wicked face.

  “We brought the child with us,” Olympia spoke up. “The attendant at the gate said he would bring him to us once the ceremony is ready to commence.”

  Ursula stood up. “Olympia, you and your granddaughter—your entire family—have the whole of the Consort’s sympathy. If there is no further business, I move we adjourn and proceed directly with the cremation.”