Page 99 of Rewitched

“We haven’t much time. But they’re all here, practically the whole coven if I’m not mistaken,” Bonnie urged, gathering the four of them closer together so she could speak in hushed tones. “Your endarkenment ceremony is about to begin, love.”

“It’s this way.” Rune gestured between two of the mighty oaks. She expected him to guide them farther into the woods, perhaps to a hidden doorway again. But stepping between the two trees, Rune dissolved to nothing as though he’d stepped behind an invisible waterfall, his whole presence rippling into thin air. His upper torso poked back out from nothing and nowhere.

“Probably should have explained. It’s a glamour, a manipulation charm to hide the back entryway to the quad. You’d never find it unless you were looking for it. Come on.”

He vanished again. Bonnie encouraged Belle through first, followed by Artorius before bringing up the rear, checking over her shoulder that nobody had taken a wrong turn in time to see four wicchefolk fade into nothing.

Breaking through the other side of the glamour, their surroundings changed.

“Is that it? No trials or tests?” Belle asked, astonished.

“I told you. It’s a back way in,” Rune said, dusting himself down. “Normally there’d be a maze of guarding enchantments in place, but fortunately, you’ve got me on your side.” He flashed her a dazzling “Mr. Magical” worthy smile.

“You’re telling me I went through hell and back through the front door, faced my darkest fears, almost drowned in quicksand, when I could have just waltzed through the fields and the woods like Maria von Trapp?”

“Who?”

“Never mind,” Belle muttered grumpily. The new space around them was a shaded but verdant quad, manicured to a leafy pine-coloured perfection. The sound of running water echoed around the stone walls, all laced with moss that so perfectly traced the structures, it must have been placed magically. Fountains stood at various intervals along pebbled pathways, and a brilliant navy blue night sky peppered with stars hung low overhead. It felt tranquil and sleepy in a Gothic, languishing way. And just as Rune had mentioned, they entered between two large stone statues of Hecate, which took the place of the two oak trees.

“Nice place you got here, lady,” Belle muttered to the statues. “Thanks for having us.”

“You are so weird,” Rune said, faintly bemused but, Belle noted, distinctly affectionate.

“Now where?” Bonnie asked.

“The courtroom,” Rune answered. “Probably just in time to watch Morena revel in her own greatness and strike off Belle’s endarkenment, all in the name of All Hallows’ Eve.”

They followed Rune as he wound them through the quad, the sky above disappearing as they headed downwards under a thicker canopy of lush leaves, eventually coming to a doorway built into the farthest wall. He swung it open with difficulty, the wood heavy and swollen with damp, cumbersome as it scraped across the quad’s stony floor.

They arrived in the atrium underneath a vast depiction of the mythical Capricorn creature, goat-like with enormous horns. Across the room lay Bronwyn’s office, with the giant metal silhouette of two witches hanging above.

Bonnie let out a gasp that sounded so horrified, Belle’s instant reaction was to assume that her mother was hurt. She spun around but found Bonnie’s eyes on the ceiling, a hand to her mouth in horror. Rune, too, was reeling, gazing at the domed roof in disbelief, brown eyes wide. Only then did Belle register it, too. What had once been a blanket of brilliance, the thick layer of physical magic charged across the entire stretch of the imposing dome, was gone. All that remained was the ceiling itself, a hollowed beige emptiness, void of everything but shadow.

“They’ve stolen it. All of it,” Bonnie breathed.

Belle never saw her mother angry. It wasn’t an emotion she leaned in to very often, but in that moment, a fury spread across Bonnie’s face that was palpable. It radiated from her. Without warning, she charged towards the Libra doorway, blasting it open with a flick of her palm, so hard that it toppled from its hinges. They all ran after her.

Belle did a double take. It was as though she’d walked back in time to the very same moment she’d last been in this room. As though the same torturous scenario with her manifests was still taking place. The sage witches both stood at the high podium in the centre, the points of their hats dancing tall. The whole jury were in place, just as they had been before, filling both sides of the long pews that stretched towards the nexus. All had eyes closed, poised to that same immaculate stillness again. And the grand pendulum itself was stationary, as it had been when the storm erupted to conduct her manifests. The Gowdens were standing with arms outstretched, magic erupting around them in that same tidal wave force that she’d witnessed, but there was more of it. So much more. They were surrounded by it, their own fortress of incandescent magic enveloping them.

Belle dragged her attention to the jury, spotting Caspar first. Under their trance, his usual elegance and grace were gone. He was buckling, his breathing laboured, the richness of his skin faded to an ailing pallid greyness. The hollows of his cheeks were extreme, like engravings, his eyes set deep in skeletal coves. It was the same for every coven member. All seemed to be fading, an evanescent memory drifting away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Belle heard Artorius stumble in shock, saw her mother sprint towards Caspar to try and catch him as he feebly swayed unconsciously.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Bonnie.” Bronwyn spoke in her usual sweet tone, made sickly by the knowledge they now had. “I brought you to the brink once before, I can do it again.”

“Let them go!” Bonnie shouted back, incensed. “What is this?”

“I’d have thought this would have been firmly in your diary, Bonnie. Your own daughter’s retrial?” Morena tutted with a snarl. “They’re all gathered here for her. They’ve all been waiting for you, Belle.”

Belle felt hollow, nauseous. They’d used her retrial, aligning the moons with her mentorship, as an excuse to gather everybody here together. To ensure that everybody was at Hecate House on All Hallows’ Eve.

“You tricked the whole coven! This was never about me. You just needed them all here, while the veil is at its thinnest, so that you wouldn’t fail at…whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

“Oh, Belle, poor poppet. Not the brightest, are you, my love? Isn’t it obvious?” Bronwyn smiled. “We’re starting again. I dare say we’ve waited long enough.” She chuckled, hands clasped together. “A new coven. Shaped for success and strength. No more hiding. After all, Selcouth itself has always unanimously agreed that my sister and I are the worthiest magic holders. Everyone else has sadly made such a mess of something that could be so perfect. It’s only right that we should begin again, take the magic back for ourselves and do with it what we see fit. Once we have gathered all the magic shared amongst Selcouth, we’ll consider who it is really best held by. Witches and warlocks who won’t sully it or let it go to waste.”

“You cannot do this.” Artorius stepped forward as boldly as he could, and Belle felt her heart break in two at the sight of the frail old friend whom she’d become so reliant on, looking so small against the overbearing backdrop. He shielded his eyes from the brightness of the magic, faltering at what was unfolding before him.

Bronwyn let out her signature chuckle again; it felt impossible to Belle that she’d ever considered it endearing. “Well, look at you, Arty. Still clinging on to one last hope that you’ll be a part of the gang again?” She laughed. “Pity. I’m afraid you’re about as much of a feature in Selcouth’s future as you were a part of its past. Just not quite up to scratch, you understand.” She wrinkled her nose in a monstrously sweet way.

“Sisters…Why?” he called, sounding impossibly sad. “Where did this venom stem from? You are not the girls you once were.”