The Fall of Witchcraft Read online

  Part Three

  The Third Day: October 20th, 2000

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Werewolves

  October 20th, 2000

  8:37 A.M.

  Victoria Palmer spent all night trying to contact the few witches still standing.

  She asked her assistant, a young empath named Liliana Porter, to print a list of all the witches in the Twelve Covens and to sort them by ability. She had started with the teleporters. After Sofia had died in her arms the night before, the rest of the witches at the Colorado Coven worked hard making phone calls in their attempt to contact the rest of their sisters. At the end of the ordeal, it saddened Victoria to find there weren't a lot of women left - among them just one teleporter. Her name was Evelyn Green, and she was from the Washington Coven. Except for two members, the Washington Coven was the strongest coven left. When their leader, Starr Ryan, had not shown up to their meeting, the women voted to move to a more private location. It had proved difficult for Victoria to locate them, but when she did, she found them safe and ready to teleport to the Colorado Coven.

  It’d been Evelyn’s job to reach the surviving witches from the Alaska and Iowa Covens. No teleporters, atmokinetics or telekinetics from these Covens had survived, and it had taken the last surviving teleporter every ounce of energy she had left to bring everybody to safety.

  After all her efforts, Victoria grieved the death of so many but felt blessed for the surviving women who she planned to keep alive. To her lament, the Twelve Covens had been reduced from over a hundred members to only thirty in three days. How had it happened? How could she’d been so blind? Why hadn't she done more to protect them? Perhaps most important - Who was responsible for this genocide?

  The witches couldn't stay in the Grand Coven, they didn't even feel safe there. Fearing for their lives, they drove to a safe house deep in the Colorado mountains. The cabin belonged to Victoria, and only she knew its location. She had purchased the property for a moment like this, wishing she never had to use it. The cabin was equipped to house a dozen witches, which meant there weren’t enough beds or food for everyone, but the women never complained. Tired and hungry everyone found a place to lie down and cry the rest of the night until they fell asleep.

  The women were scared, and they had reason to be scared. Victoria didn’t blame them, she understood. She blamed herself because of her inaction when she knew something was wrong. Why hadn’t she acted sooner? The signs had been there, and she'd ignored them.

  There was something else that kept bothering her, and as she locked the doors and lowered the metallic blinds to protect the cabin from the outside world, she looked around at the women under her roof and wondered… is the traitor here, amongst us, even now?

  Deep down she hoped the traitor was one of the missing witches. It was better to think the killer was someplace other than there, with them. How she wished the killer had somehow faked her death and was far, far away. Because if she hadn’t, then that meant they weren't safe locked in the same house with a cold-blooded murderer.

  That night, Victoria walked around the house trying to decide if one of her witches was a killer in disguise. She couldn’t decide on anyone. One by one she knew them as well as she could know her own daughters. None of them could've done it. None of them were capable of such violence.

  Morning came and the cabin came back to life. The women were still scared, but alive. At least for now. They needed protection. Victoria needed the vampires’ help more than ever. After making sure everyone had found something to eat, the Head Witch sat in the small cabin’s office she’d built for herself, closed the door, and picked up the phone.

  The cabin may have been in the woods, but it wasn’t isolated from humanity. The closest cabin to theirs was half a mile away. All the cabins in the area had energy and water. They had a phone line and paved roads. Perhaps all those technological advances didn’t make it a safe place to hide, but it was all they had.

  “Lucius,” she was grateful when he answered his direct line.

  “Victoria, how are you?” the director of the vampire agency asked right away. “Perhaps I should ask, where are you? Are you safe?”

  She nodded her head, knowing Lucius couldn’t see her. “Yes, yes. We came to our cabin in the woods. It’s not too far from the Coven and no one knew of its location but for me. At least, not before last night.” She paused, trying to stop the panic rising in her voice, “There are twenty-nine witches left, Lucius, only twenty-nine.”

  Hearing him exhale on the other end, she knew he understood her loss more than anyone. “I am sorry, Victoria, I truly am sorry.”

  “I have-” She stopped to get away from the phone as she let out a sob. “I have failed them, Lucius. They are afraid and I am afraid for them. Even now, we are not safe.”

  “I know.”

  “What should we do?” she asked him, begged of him. “Tell me what to do and I will do it. Tell me where to go and I will take them there.”

  “I too have several safe-houses I can offer you as refuge, Victoria, although I’m afraid it won’t matter where you are as long as you haven’t found the traitor in your midst.”

  “I don’t know who she is,” Victoria was crying; her voice tried to hide that fact, but failed. “I don’t know who she is or where she is.”

  “She may very well be there with you now,” he told her the last thing she needed to hear. He told her what she feared the most.

  “I know,” she sobbed. “But, the rest…”

  Right then, her assistant, Lily Porter, entered the room. She had a cup of freshly brewed coffee in her hand for her. Lily looked more worried than the rest. Victoria knew she also worried about her and had been by her side when she found out more and more witches had lost their lives. She whispered a thank you before going back to her call.

  In her ear, Lucius spoke, “Have one of your teleporters come get a few agents, then they can-”

  “There aren’t any teleporters left, Lucius,” Victoria confessed, her volume louder than she meant. There was a silence on the other end of the line. Yes, it was as unbelievable as it sounded. “There is one left, but she is exhausted after teleporting the surviving witches from all over the country to the Colorado Coven. She’s resting upstairs. Lily has been taking care of her.”

  “Will she be all right?”

  “I believe so,” she appreciated his genuine interest in them. “Mostly she has a headache now, but I don’t want to overuse her abilities. I’m sure you understand.”

  He did. “I will send a few agents, then.” Lucius offered after a pause, “Tell me your location. They will leave in the next available flight. Perhaps you could expect them by noon today, no later than this evening. I will have Josh book the flights and-” He stopped because she heard her crying on the other side. “Victoria, please,” the director’s tone became more sympathetic. “I know you’re scared, but you can be strong for your Coven. I know you can. I have known you for over four decades and I am certain you have the strength to survive this.”

  Through her tears, she agreed even when the director couldn’t see her. “So many are dead…”

  “And we won’t let anyone else die,” Lucius told her. “I will leave you to make arrangements with my agents. Now, tell me where you are.” She told him the address. “There is no more time to waste, I will keep you posted.”

  “Thank you,” she tried to pull herself together for him. For her. For the others. “We’ll be waiting for them.”

  “Of course,” Lucius said. “We’ll be in touch.”

  October 20th, 2000

  9:16 A.M.

  Liliana Porter was assigned to the Colorado Coven when she joined the witchcraft community five years ago. At twenty-six years of age, her greatest accomplishments were her art major and becoming a working empath for the Twelve Covens. Lily - as mostly everyone she knew called her - wasn’t fond of her magic power. Even though her mentor, Victoria Palmer herself, was an empath and an adored and suc
cessful leader, her power to tell when people lied had only brought her tears.

  It was the reason Lily hadn’t married. She doubted she ever would. One question to any guy would reveal a truth or a lie. It turns out men are liars. She knew that from personal experience. It was also the reason she didn’t have many friends. Women are liars, too. Her power brought many disappointments. So much Lily wished she didn’t have that power at all.

  It was hard to find honest people in the world. In fact, one of Ms. Palmer’s first lessons had been to let go of little white lies. According to her, it’s all right if people lied as long as they did it for the right reasons. That meant, if they were trying to protect her feelings or protect someone else's personal matters, then it was okay to lie. Sometimes lies were necessary, Ms. Palmer had told her several times. They were good and necessary.

  Although Lily disagreed with that and she had gotten used to the disappointment humanity was… that didn’t mean she had to like it. No matter how nice or kind someone was, they were lying in some degree. What an annoying power to have, wasn’t it? Ignorance was bliss, as the saying went.

  And yet, the power was hers and she had no choice but to embrace it, deal with it, and keep on living with the truths she found out about everyone around her every single day of her life.

  Lily may have a deep resentment of her power, but not of the Coven. She thought she was lucky to be a part of the Colorado Coven. She'd grown up in Massachusetts, but loved Colorado. Most of all she loved the mountains, and she enjoyed them in all four seasons. Her best friend in the Coven was a woman named Jill, a deleter, who’d taken her skiing during her first winter there. Jill was five years older than she was and had all the experience Lily needed to learn from moving to a new city. From day one she'd had a mentor and a best friend in Jill, which had made her transition into the world of professional witchcraft easier.

  The Coven provided with much more than a place where she could meet other girls and women like herself. Not only that, they paid her for her services. It was a job just like any other job and she got paid real money to do it. Since the coven rarely used her magic power Ms. Palmer handled most of the empath cases, and Lily served as her assistant. All she needed to do was show up for four hours a day to answer phone calls and handle the Head Witch's agenda. Once in a while, they called her for extra duties, but they paid her accordingly. Lily's regular office hours were eleven to three, which gave her plenty of time to work on her art - her first passion.

  She painted whenever she had the chance. When she finished several pieces, Lily signed up for fairs or art events where she could sell them for a fair price. Her dream was to become a famous painter one day, although her father always smiled his secret smile whenever she brought that up at home.

  It didn’t matter. She did what she loved, and that was enough. At least for now. She knew her moment in the spotlight would come. Once the trouble with the Twelve Covens was over...

  The cabin where Ms. Palmer had brought them was fantastic. Lily didn't know the witches even had a safe house, to begin with. As she understood it, Ms. Palmer had commissioned it with Coven funds about fifteen years ago. On their ride there, Ms. Palmer had explained how the cabin had come to be and why she had kept it a secret all those years.

  According to Ms. Palmer, the cabin wasn’t always empty. She rented the property occasionally to large groups in need of a place for their events. The money she made from those rentals was a great return of investment, she explained. Lily still found it strange none of the witches had ever used it, but was glad she had gotten to know it sooner rather than later.

  The cabin in the woods was gorgeous. Ms. Palmer had decorated it in luxury. The Head Witch had spared no expense when she'd built it. The two-story cabin had an enormous kitchen, with a long dining table and an open living room. On the bottom floor, Lily counted four rooms - three with one king bed each. The fourth room was Ms. Palmer’s office. Upstairs, four fully equipped bedrooms with a bathroom and two queen beds could give space for eight to sixteen guests to spend the night comfortably, depending on how they used the beds.

  Lily had counted thirty surviving witches, including herself and Ms. Palmer. Although the cabin wasn’t big enough to house all, the women had squeezed in it somehow. They didn’t mind being together as long as they felt safe.

  Safe. What did that word even mean?

  No matter where they were, the outlook was grim.

  When it was Lily’s turn to use the bathroom early that morning she felt an intense and wary look from the witch coming out. When she entered the kitchen, the five women in there were sitting in utter silence staring at their cups of coffee and avoiding each other. When she came in, they glance to look in her direction with suspicion. The truth was they all suspected each other; they all wondered if the traitor was one of them waiting to find them alone and kill them.

  Lily entered the living room where another set of women were watching the news as if someone had died. And someone had - dozens of witches across the country were no more. Lily didn’t blame them for being distrustful; they had reason to be afraid, reason to be suspicious of one another.

  The cup of coffee she had gotten from the kitchen was for Ms. Palmer. Tip-toeing into her office, Lily placed the hot beverage in front of her. This room was the most depressing of all. Before this day, she had never seen Victoria Palmer cry. With her lips swollen and her red eyes puffy, she didn't look like the confident and powerful leader she knew her to be.

  The Head Witch was on the phone with Lucius, the director of the vampire agency, when Lily came in. It was clear it wasn't a cheerful conversation; those wouldn't be back for a while - there were too many people to mourn. Lily had never met a vampire, but she knew she would have to if she was chosen to replace Victoria Palmer as the Colorado Coven's main empath when she retired. Ms. Palmer always told the witches vampires were creatures that resembled an average person - except they were immortal and had superhuman powers. It didn't inspire much confidence, since she didn't like regular people that much, either.

  Lily turned to leave the room and Victoria Palmer raised her hand, signaling her to stay. The young empath did as she was told, overhearing when the most important vampire in the United States told the most powerful witch he would send bodyguards to help them. Vampires. They were coming, they would keep them safe. Maybe.

  After Ms. Palmer gave Lucius their address, she hung up the phone.

  “How is Evelyn?” the Head Witch asked yearning to learn about the only teleporter they had left.

  “I was just on my way up to go check on her this morning, but I wanted to bring you your coffee first. You must be exhausted.”

  The Head Witch nodded. “Tell the others we need a few of them always by her side. She should never be alone.”

  “Yes, Ms. Palmer,” Lily acknowledged. “There are two of them with her now. They refuse to leave her side.”

  This pleased Ms. Palmer; it made a smile form on her red, teary face. “Perhaps they could use some breakfast?” she suggested.

  “Yes, of course,” Lily agreed. Before she turned to leave, she asked, “Will you be all right, Ms. Palmer?”

  “Yes, Lily,” she forced a smile for her, convincing no one. “We will all be all right.”

  Lily returned the smile, bowed her head, and left the study. Closing the door, she took a deep breath after hearing the big lie the Head Witch had just told her. Empaths could never tell if another empath was lying, but sometimes you didn’t need to have special abilities to know someone was. They all lied, she thought to herself. They would certainly not be all right.

  Making one last visit to the kitchen, Lily checked the pantry for something to eat. There wasn’t much, mostly a few cans and grains. At least the pantry was filled with coffee, water bottles, and boxed milk - the kind that didn’t need to be refrigerated. She spotted a few bags of instant oatmeal still left in a big carton and took three. Heating a mix of milk and water in the microwave, she prepared coffee
and three bowls of oatmeal, put them in a tray she found under the oven, and set off upstairs.

  She had no idea if this was what they wanted, but it was what she could offer.

  Carefully, she walked past the witches in the kitchen and living room to reach the stairs.

  The second story was almost empty. The few witches that lingered must’ve smelled the coffee and hot oatmeal and headed downstairs to get something to eat. Whoever was making the coffee would need to put in another batch. What they needed was for someone to venture out to get real food to fill the cabin's refrigerator, although Lily doubted that would happen until the vampires arrived.

  “May I come in?” Lily asked after knocking.

  “Hey, Lily,” answered Carolina, a telekinetic who had been about to retire from the Colorado Coven before the attack began. Liliana knew her well. “This is Daisy,” Carolina introduced the other older witch in the room, “she is from the Washington Coven. A deleter.”

  Lily forced a smile, “Hi, Daisy.”

  Daisy looked like a sweet, black older woman, perhaps not as old as Carolina, but in her late fifties or early sixties. Her hair was short and had turned gray with age. Her eyes showed kindness and her expression showed no evil.

  “Nice to meet you, Lily,” Daisy said in a slow, gentle tone, revealing she was originally from somewhere in the South.

  “How is she?” Lily moved her head toward Evelyn, who was on the bed, eyes closed. She still held the tray in her hands.

  “Here, let me help you with that, child.” Daisy stood up to take the tray from her, placing it on top of the nightstand. “Coffee?” she asked Carolina, who accepted a cup. She took a cup herself.

  “Is she in a comma?” asked Lily.

  After hearing her question, Evelyn opened her eyes. “No,” she mumbled, smiling. “I’m feeling better, actually.”