seen before. It was emerald green velvet and had long, droopy sleeves and gold embroidering like something out of medieval times. I tried to compliment her on it, but Mom turned the simple words into an argument about clothes.
Mom complained that I should have chosen something more befitting the seriousness of the occasion. I thought I had, and then grumbled about how there really was no point, since the whole thing was going to go to hell anyway.
For some reason, mentioning “hell” really set Mom off, and she hadn’t spoken since.
Maybe Ramses was the Prince of Hell.
“My mom sends her regards, by the way,” Bea said from the back.
That was the other elephant in the room, or car, as the case might be. Bea’s mom wasn’t part of the Inner Circle of the coven. She’d failed her Initiation. Just like I was about to.
“I wish it wasn’t against the rules for your mom to come,” I said kindly. What must it be like for her? All the members of Bea’s family were big muckety-mucks in the coven except her mom. Even Bea’s dad would be there, since he was an Elder and a high priest.
“Tonight is only for True Witches,” Mom said.
I shot her a hard look. That dig wasn’t necessary. And would she be so unkind when her own daughter was relegated to the Outer Court?
“Mom made an awesome treat for the cakes and ale,” Bea said, totally ignoring both the cruelty and the pity. “Papa took it with him, when he went to set up.”
“Oh, I love your mom’s cooking!” I said honestly, happy to pick up the cue to change the subject. Bea’s mom might not be Inner Circle, but she was a kitchen witch bar none. “What did she make?”
“Little savory pies. Enough for everyone, with vegetarian, vegan, nondairy, and gluten-free options!”
Bea and I laughed. It was a private joke. We always found all the different food restrictions amusing. Bea had once teased that witches like to make something for everyone, even the people who kept kosher!
“I don’t know what you find so funny. That’s a lot of work your mother put in,” Mom said humorlessly from the driver’s seat.
Boy, Mom was in a bad mood. How long until we arrived? I checked the dashboard clock: ten more minutes. The city was long behind us, and the car rolled along darkened cornfields, their tall stalks stiff and straight in perfect rows. Dark sky stretched overhead, twinkling with a multitude of stars. The moon rose full and round in the east.
“It couldn’t be a more perfect night,” I said. It had been cold and rainy just the day before, but today the clouds broke. The temperature of the evening air was cool, maybe sixty degrees. I’d brought along a cape to drape over my shoulders, but I wondered if I’d need it after all.
“Martha always makes the weather just right for the Initiation,” Mom said with a smile. Martha was the coven’s weather witch. In the Circle they called her “Grandmother Storm,” because it was rumored she once conjured a great storm after a long drought. “I wonder what your gift will be, Ana.”
Along with casting the circle, the initiates were expected to receive a kind of magical calling tonight, a special skill that they would develop while working in the coven. Bea hoped to be a diviner, since she loved working with astrology and tarot cards so much.
Honestly? What I wanted more than anything was simple. I wanted my name to be written in the great book. Everyone had said having an Initiation on my birthday would be so fortunate. I just wanted to survive it without too much embarrassment for everyone involved.
“Yeah, I wonder,” I said wistfully. “Did you get what you wanted, Mom?”
Instantly, I knew I’d said something wrong again. By the light of the dash, I saw Mom’s lips tighten. “No,” she said simply. “Not entirely.”
Bea and I exchanged a look. What do you suppose that meant? Bea opened her mouth as though to ask, but I shook my head in warning. Best not to push her. Mom revealed
Mom complained that I should have chosen something more befitting the seriousness of the occasion. I thought I had, and then grumbled about how there really was no point, since the whole thing was going to go to hell anyway.
For some reason, mentioning “hell” really set Mom off, and she hadn’t spoken since.
Maybe Ramses was the Prince of Hell.
“My mom sends her regards, by the way,” Bea said from the back.
That was the other elephant in the room, or car, as the case might be. Bea’s mom wasn’t part of the Inner Circle of the coven. She’d failed her Initiation. Just like I was about to.
“I wish it wasn’t against the rules for your mom to come,” I said kindly. What must it be like for her? All the members of Bea’s family were big muckety-mucks in the coven except her mom. Even Bea’s dad would be there, since he was an Elder and a high priest.
“Tonight is only for True Witches,” Mom said.
I shot her a hard look. That dig wasn’t necessary. And would she be so unkind when her own daughter was relegated to the Outer Court?
“Mom made an awesome treat for the cakes and ale,” Bea said, totally ignoring both the cruelty and the pity. “Papa took it with him, when he went to set up.”
“Oh, I love your mom’s cooking!” I said honestly, happy to pick up the cue to change the subject. Bea’s mom might not be Inner Circle, but she was a kitchen witch bar none. “What did she make?”
“Little savory pies. Enough for everyone, with vegetarian, vegan, nondairy, and gluten-free options!”
Bea and I laughed. It was a private joke. We always found all the different food restrictions amusing. Bea had once teased that witches like to make something for everyone, even the people who kept kosher!
“I don’t know what you find so funny. That’s a lot of work your mother put in,” Mom said humorlessly from the driver’s seat.
Boy, Mom was in a bad mood. How long until we arrived? I checked the dashboard clock: ten more minutes. The city was long behind us, and the car rolled along darkened cornfields, their tall stalks stiff and straight in perfect rows. Dark sky stretched overhead, twinkling with a multitude of stars. The moon rose full and round in the east.
“It couldn’t be a more perfect night,” I said. It had been cold and rainy just the day before, but today the clouds broke. The temperature of the evening air was cool, maybe sixty degrees. I’d brought along a cape to drape over my shoulders, but I wondered if I’d need it after all.
“Martha always makes the weather just right for the Initiation,” Mom said with a smile. Martha was the coven’s weather witch. In the Circle they called her “Grandmother Storm,” because it was rumored she once conjured a great storm after a long drought. “I wonder what your gift will be, Ana.”
Along with casting the circle, the initiates were expected to receive a kind of magical calling tonight, a special skill that they would develop while working in the coven. Bea hoped to be a diviner, since she loved working with astrology and tarot cards so much.
Honestly? What I wanted more than anything was simple. I wanted my name to be written in the great book. Everyone had said having an Initiation on my birthday would be so fortunate. I just wanted to survive it without too much embarrassment for everyone involved.
“Yeah, I wonder,” I said wistfully. “Did you get what you wanted, Mom?”
Instantly, I knew I’d said something wrong again. By the light of the dash, I saw Mom’s lips tighten. “No,” she said simply. “Not entirely.”
Bea and I exchanged a look. What do you suppose that meant? Bea opened her mouth as though to ask, but I shook my head in warning. Best not to push her. Mom revealed
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