Page 23 of Rewitched

“Madames Sage, if you please,” he repeated, indicating for them to steady themselves. “It would be unfair to lead Ms. Blackthorn into this ceremony without some further clarity. She is evidently feeling anxious. Perhaps the honourable jury will grant some time for additional discussion.”

Belle, wanting to immediately die on the spot, jumped in. “Oh no, honestly…I don’t want to cause any—”

“Please, Ms. Blackthorn,” Caspar said with gentle assertion. “We are in no rush; time waits for men of magic if we so wish it to. I’d invite you to accompany me, and perhaps Bronwyn would be so kind as to join us for a moment?” His words were not a suggestion.

“And what would you have the rest of us do, Strix? All wait here patiently while you enjoy a quick ‘get to know me,’ I suppose? I truly despair,” Morena said.

“Yes, please, Mor. Shan’t be long!” Bronwyn called. “Oh, Rune, you come along, too, lovey.”

Rune slapped the thighs of his trousers as he rose to make his way down the pews. Belle did her level best to ignore the faintly mocking smile that he was exhibiting, as though he knew that Belle would be annoyed at his inclusion.

“Why does he have to come?” Belle followed uncomfortably after Caspar, trying to keep pace as he strode towards the back of the courtroom.

“Rune Dunstan. A protector of sorts. Newly ordained, but certainly worthy of it. Exhibits a level of magical skill that you’d expect to see in someone a generation or two above,” Caspar told her, heading through a door hidden amongst the bookshelves which seemed to materialise from nowhere with a quick rotation of his palm. Bronwyn toddled behind to catch up, Rune walking with his hands in his pockets beside her as they spoke under their breath.

“I really am so sorry about all of this. Have you got a busy afternoon?” Belle said, trying to patch awkwardness with politeness.

“Hecate House Athenaeum. Also my office, incidentally,” Caspar announced.

Rune closed the door behind them and leaned against the fireside, his arms crossed in front of him. The remaining trio each took a seat in one of Caspar’s wingback chairs. Belle admired the portrait in a large gilded frame above the mantel, a likeness of Caspar standing proudly next to a beautiful woman and two witches around her own age with curly hair, whom Belle also recognised amongst the jury, presumably the Strix daughters. A towering set of balanced scales and a huge sword were positioned at their feet in the painting.

With an elegant wave, Caspar cast a fire into the hearth, and the warm light bounced from the vast collection of shining telescopes positioned through the room. Huge rolls of detailed sky maps bound around wooden handles were stacked against the walls. A central table, which seemed to be a golden globe opened in half, depicted some kind of planet model and was covered in a scattering of carefully arranged cool-toned crystals. His specialist branch of magic was evident.

“Pardon my interruption on your special day, Belle. The energy of the courtroom felt in need of a reset,” Caspar said. “I merely thought it best we take a moment to make sure we’re all on the same page. It’s my role to ensure all things remain even-handed, and that often requires rebalancing.”

The fire crackled behind his words.

“Hence the title,” Belle said.

“Indeed. As balancer, treasurer, gatekeeper at Selcouth, I’m here—along with Rune, of course—to keep you safe and well, and to keep things fair and measured. To make sure the spellwork is by the book, to make sure your jury is attuned to your true circumstance, that sort of thing.”

Caspar seemed like he’d have any and all answers for her, probably to questions she hadn’t even thought to ask yet. Belle nodded, making a conscious effort to not let overwhelm take hold. She glanced over at Rune and found that, despite his disinterested body language, his gaze was firmly fixed on her but darted to the fire when their eyes caught.

“And where do you come into all of this?” she asked him, finding herself bristling, unable to drop the lingering combative tone from their first encounter at Lunar.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he said with a raised eyebrow, spinning the ring on his thumb.

“Rune,” Bronwyn said in a warning tone. He rolled his eyes in response.

“Watchman for Selcouth. Not something I volunteered for myself, but Bronwyn here was adamant that I accept.”

“Well, who else were we going to ask to keep us all safe? Ruddy Elspeth?” Bronwyn replied.

“It’s a protective role,” Rune went on. “I monitor magic use across the coven for red flags, unusual activity, keep an eye out for anyone attempting any spells that they shouldn’t be using.”

“And acting as the coven’s personal postman, too?” Belle asked.

“Only for you,” he responded with a head tilt.

Caspar coughed pointedly, snapping the string of tension in the air. “The point is that some of our elders forget that younger coven members have not witnessed hundreds of these jury trials as they have. They forget all too soon what it’s like to be at the crucial, vulnerable point of endarkenment. Thus, I am determined to ensure things proceed fairly. For anyone, of course, but particularly for the daughter of such a good friend.”

Belle’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh, you’re friends with my mum?”

Caspar smiled fondly, beaming right up to his eyes. “Indeed. We were at university together. We faced our EquiWitch hearings together, and both specialised in Earth Sorcery. Bonnie followed her heart towards the nature of the land, while I found my solace amongst the skies.”

“Belle, my love.” Bronwyn spoke slightly too pitying to be comforting. “Maybe it’s best we…spell it out. Leaping lizards, my terrible puns. I don’t even mean to do it.” Bronwyn adjusted herself in the deep armchair. Her feet didn’t quite touch the floor. “All will be fine, I do promise you that. But as your elders, it is our duty to remind you officially that there is the chance that this verdict will change…well, everything.”

“That’ll make you feel better,” Rune quipped, feigning innocence when Bronwyn shot him a look.