The Last Salem Witch

Outcomes

                                                                                    c h a p t e r  2 

 I walk straight to the opposite end of the court, barely sparing any of those in attendance a glance. My focus is completely on what I am about to do tonight. Conclave has been known to drag on, the longest in recorded history being almost four months. 

Coincidentally, I became High Priestess by the end of that Conclave. The male leaders were not happy about the fact that a young girl of a hundred autumns was chosen by the Elder Fountain to govern and had to stall actually coronating me. Misogynist pigs.

 It has now become almost difficult to remember that night more and more. The years have no problem blurring altogether, even the events that one might consider special. What I do remember is the Throne. The very same one that stands before me now. Engraving and runes marred the smooth, Onyx stone of the throne were constant and never changing; made to influence and grant good wisdom to whoever rightfully held it. 

A long line of witches and warlocks tended the Throne before me. The last conclave held was about twenty years ago, meaning I haven't seen my throne for the same length of time. In my head, I open the telepathic link I shared with Xaero. 

  Do you think the Throne will approve of us leaving?  I asked, honestly curious. 

 At first, there was still silence. Telepathic link spaces often feel like a paper cup telephone connection but more private. However, with enough practice, it will almost feel like verbally talking to one another. Xaero and I had a very long time of practice so I almost turned around to check if there was something wrong but after a second, I felt Xaero strengthen the link before I hear his reply. 

  There is only one way to find out. 

 I reach the raised dais, a platform where everyone can see me. I briefly touch the smooth handle of the throne and finally look back at the assembled crowd. “Brothers, Sisters,” I said loudly, my voice carrying across and around the large hall. “Conclave has now begun.” 

 l take my seat, immediately feeling a rush of magic—the recognition of the Throne's master, before whispers flood my head. I cannot understand what they are saying, the words are hurried and disoriented. A chill runs up my spine.

 The first one to step forward is Caeldon, the Vampire King. His plain robes are as black as his long, straight hair, greatly contrasting with fair, pale skin. He sweeps into a bow at the waist. 

“Caeldon." 

“Mistress,” Caeldon responded. “It does us great good to see you well.” 

I allow a genuine smile to show through my mask. Amongst the Masters of the Houses, Caeldon has always been my most trusted. I have known him even before he was king. He has never held any ambition for my position and has always proven himself loyal in spite of the dirty, dirty leeches that wash up in court. 

“I can honestly say the same to you. What news do you bring, vampire king?" 

“No news means good news when it comes to my land, Mistress.”

I search his face, feeling dread along with the murmurs from the Throne. “You bear good news but your face says something different. What is wrong?”

Unease rolls around the room like a dark fog creeping over the night. I let my eyes stray long enough to catch the look that passed between the other vampire delegates. If I were to hinge a guess, Caeldon brought no more than twenty guards to accompany him to Conclave. I have seen the vampire army before, and they are an impressive bunch. Caeldon is king, but more importantly, he is an excellent commander. 

One who shouldn’t be traveling lightly guarded.

“Vampire territory is a long way from Massachusetts,” I remarked carefully. “Has there been a shortage of soldiers to fight for you, Caeldon?”

He shakes his head ‘no’, a minuscule movement that you cannot miss from the stoic king. “I assure you that nothing is wrong. I have taken only twenty men to accompany me for tonight because of my wife, Queen Bea.”

“Bea? What’s happened to her?”

To my confusion, Caeldon smiles. I try to remember the last time he showed happiness as an emotion and came up blank. Xaero, who is standing just at the foot of the dais, meets my eye.

Oh, no…

“After centuries of waiting,” Caeldon announces, “The Vampire Queen now finally bears an heir!”

Immediately, feet start stomping, wooden and stone staffs are being knocked against the alabaster floors, and guttural cries of celebration drown the simmering panic in my chest. I quickly paste a smile of my own over my lips, watching as my people celebrated Caeldon and his absent wife.

Regret and guilt build up in my chest. What good of a friend am I if I cannot even find happiness in such great news of a loyal subject? Still, how can’t I? This is all bad timing. Now, there will be no way anyone from his kingdom would approve of my plan to leave.

Dammit! What do I do?

Caeldon turns back my way and I make sure my mask is well in place.

“Caeldon, I rejoice with you truly.” I sighed. “Will this mean that you cannot join our future travel?”

He bows his head. “No, Mistress. I need to fulfill my duty and protect my family.”

“But portal travel—” I tried to say, but outcries from the crowd cut me off. 

“Mistress!”

The Alpha of the foremost clan of wolves pushes himself to the front of the room. Felix bows before straightening up. The planes of his chest and arms are in full view, smooth and impressive. Once upon a time, wolves of any kind never wore anything, choosing to be unencumbered by any type of clothing. However, it put everyone in discomfort so they had to compromise with (well-fitting) black slacks. 

“We implore you to reconsider,” he gruffly said. “We do not know how dangerous traveling through dimensions is and we are not prepared!”

Assent from the crowd ignites him further. “Humans are ignorant beings. Discovery is an issue of the past!”

“And even if it was not so, we still cannot make the journey, Mistress.”

I turn my head to the Prince of the Faes, now acting as regent to his sick father. He is dressed in white as always, the gold in his eyes and his porcelain skin incandescently glowing. 

Despite the calming effect Seelie fae usually has on other people, I snap at him, unable to contain my ill-temper. “And why is that, Prince Avery?”

Quiet descended like a hush. I never had a good track record of keeping my anger in check. Now, I can just taste the fear everyone is beginning to feel. The whispering in my head grows louder. Prince Avery, unfazed, continues anyway.

“Before departing London yesterday, I received a report of a possible… problem for our kind.”

Xaero rushes forward. “What report?” he snarled. “Why was I not informed of this?”

I lift a hand. “Captain, let him speak.” My gaze goes to the prince, the noise in my head is screaming now.

“As of yesterday, a pact between the Fallen and the Unseelie Fae has come into play. They march on us several thousand miles northeast of my kingdom’s border.”

Gasps and outcry from the delegates make him pause and I am grateful for the respite outside noise. The Unseelie moving alone had never been a threat to any of us. The Seelie fae can take their numbers down if they had cause to believe of the other’s danger. The real threat comes from the Fallen, cursed entities who wielded magic that is far different from our own. We never mixed with them in all of our histories, never sought to cross paths with them. Our ancestors described them as terrible creatures, full-stop. I never dared verify if it was true. 

“That’s it,” Xaero snapped. “Mistress, we need to secure you now.”

My head snaps toward him. “What? I—”

“Ella.” Prince Avery reaches out to grip my hand. I jerk away but he does not let go. “We must call a war council now.”

I snatch my hand away from him. “Do not touch me, or presume you can direct me about my duties!”

My tone catches the attention of everyone. There was shocked silence from the delegates, so deathly quiet that frost almost crept in. In a flash, Xaero bodily blocks Prince Avery from me, hand on his wand, while Diana pulls her sovereign away from potential destruction. 

In my head, amidst the steady growing wails coming from the Throne that was making more sense, I reached out to my cousin. 

Xaero, I call out in panic. What does this pact mean?

I don’t know, Ella. s**t, this is bad.

I try not to scream. I should have listened to the Throne—

What?

Visirach, I said. Danger. The Throne has been telling me that there is danger since I first sat down!

This realization floors me. I should have been able to decipher the Throne’s whispers better but I was not able to until now. How is that possible? Just then, Caeldon walks up the dais, disconnecting me from the link. He kneels directly beside me. “Mistress, with your blessing, I shall leave. I must go. My wife, she....”

I shake my head. “No.”

Caeldon and Xaero look at me in alarm. “What… Mistress, please!”

I place my hand lightly on Caeldon’s shoulder. “Your wife and child mustn’t stay in your palace. Bring her to Alcalia and leave her in the care of the Elders.”

His shoulders relax underneath my hand. The vampire kisses my ring in gratitude before standing up. “I shall do so swiftly so I may be of assistance to you. 

“Go.”

I watch as the Vampire King and his brethren leave, making sure they are through the doors before calling forward Prince Avery. He kneels, just like Caeldon but somehow a bit more prostate. 

My voice drops to a near whisper. I stare into fearful, golden eyes as I try to reign in my anger lest I dump it all on a child. “If you ever touch me again, I will make sure you are made an example of, am I clear?”

“Aye, Mistress,” he replied shakily.

I cringe at his figure. Lachlan should have educated his son better than this. “Get up and have your lieutenant travel with your father to Alcalia. You will help inform my Captain of these developments.”

Once Xaero has pulled the Prince away, I stand up. The shouting from the Throne abruptly ceases, replaced by a different kind of yelling. It takes me a moment to realize that through all the byplay with Caeldon and Avery, the other Masters were growling and near clawing at each other. Everyone is being so loud and so focused on being heard over the other that they failed to realize I even moved.

One step after the other, I cross the room until I reach Felix and Akū, the Orc Chief. It takes all of two minutes, with their spit flying everywhere until they notice I was even there. After the two of them fall quiet, I move to step in between the Merchief’s daughter and one of the higher Children of Light, who thankfully did not need long before breaking up. 

I continue until I have separated all of those who were arguing. When I was done, I sighed in relief. 

“Quiet, finally.”

Xaero approaches. “Mistress, I—”

“No, Xaero. No more apologies.” I was severely disappointed but there were many more important things we should be handling. I search the crowd until I see familiar brown eyes. “Diana, we need a change of décor.”

The girl promptly moves forward. “What kind, Mistress?”

I sigh once more. “Something that is more appropriate for a war council.”