Queen of Night (Thorne Hill 6) - Page 19

Leaves crunch under my feet, and I slow as the scent of fire and oil waft through the forest. It brings up a memory, and my body reacts to it before I have a chance to repress. The last time I was summoned to the Covenstead was to officially renounce my ties with the coven. I signed my name in the book, and my blood wouldn’t absorb.

Tabatha was able to divert the attention for the time being, and now that Ruby is on our side, surely things are swayed more in my favor. Maybe? Fuck, I hope so. I bring my hands to my mouth and breathe on my cold fingers. I should have put gloves on. I pull my phone from my pocket and quickly type here and send it to Lucas so he knows I arrived to the door in one piece.

My familiars slow to a stop, waiting for me to step through a clearing. Someone is standing by the door, holding a torch. The hood of her cloak hangs over her forehead, making it hard to see just who it is. The flame flickers in the wind, blowing the scent of oil my way. I see the witch before she sees me, and I hesitate for just a second, finally recognizing her as Erin, a witch on our coven’s council.

“Hey,” I say, not wanting to startle her.

“Callie,” she replies in greeting. “Come on in.” She turns, puts out the flame, and opens the door to the coven. Binx patters ahead, slinking between my feet.

“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

“I’m not too sure,” Erin replies, putting the finger she pricked with her knife in her mouth. Witch blood is used to open the door, as a way of keeping anyone not allowed to enter out. I learned long ago that slicing or even pricking my fingertips was a pain. Literally. Do you realize how much you use your fingers? And I don’t just mean that in a dirty way.

I’d much rather make a neat little slice on the top of my forearm than deal with sore and tender fingertips. Bending over, I pick up Pandora and follow Erin through the door, entering into a courtyard that takes us into a large hallway of the Covenstead. The gathering hall is just ahead, with the Academy to the left and offices and housing to the right.

It’s been several days since Ruth attacked, and everything is back to normal. There’s not blood smeared over the cobblestone flooring. No negative energy filling the air with tension. It’s just how it should be, and now that I’m walking the halls without the intent on finding and killing a batshit crazy necromancer, I miss it.

Hugging Pandora a little tighter, I try not to let my mind wander too far ahead. My child will have magic. I’ll want her to attend Grim Gate Academy, getting the best magical education possible. I want her to grow up with other witches and never feel alone like I did. I blink back tears and continue to follow Erin, who passes the gathering hall.

“Where are we going?”

“The great hall,” she tells me, not turning around to look at me. Something is up, and I’m tempted to have one of my familiars shadow ahead and find out what it is.

“Why?”

“That’s where the High Priestess told me to go.”

Tabatha set this up? Then it certainly can’t be bad. I think. I hope. Dammit. I hate not knowing what’s going to happen.

“We never have meetings in the great hall,” I go on. The great hall is a large room with tall ceilings and an impressively large cast-iron fireplace. Along with the gathering hall, it’s one of the two rooms in the Academy that is used regularly yet has been minimally updated. “And won’t the Academy students be eating lunch in there?” The large double doors come into view, and the scent of vegetable soup wafts through the hall, taking me right back to the lunch hours I spent talking and laughing with Kristy, Nicole, and Naomi when we were students here.

Yet, there’s no happy chatter coming from inside the hall. Everything is quiet, and Erin speeds up her pace. What the hell is going on? Erin lifts the large metal latch, pushing the door open only an inch before stopping.

I tip my head. “Is everything—”

“Surprise!” The door swings open and my entire coven is inside the gathering hall, seated around tables filled with food.

“What the fuck?” I whisper, lips parting. Pandora jumps out of my arms and everyone inside starts clapping. Erin motions for me to come inside, but I stand there, rooted to the spot. Tabatha, Evander, Kristy, and Ruby are standing by the head table, usually reserved for professors. There’s an empty spot in between Tabatha and Kristy, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should go and sit there.

Tags: Emily Goodwin Thorne Hill Fantasy
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