Chapter Twenty-Five

The streetlights that line the quiet suburban street begin to wink out, one by one, but the people asleep in their houses remain oblivious. In the middle of the road, three men and two women stand in a line. The shadows they cast are faint in the moonlight, which is now the only source of illumination. Their collective magic has seen to that.

‘Are they ready?’ the man with the glowing ring asks.

‘They are, Varick,’ Aradia replies. She brushes her long red hair back from her shoulders, closes her eyes and raises her slender hands out in front of her. She takes a breath and begins to whisper.

‘When lo, as they reached the mountain’s side . . .’

The four others watch her as she works. The grey-haired woman folds her arms and eyes the younger woman; she is sceptical about the power of Aradia’s magic.

But then there is movement.

Almost simultaneously, the doors of the houses on each side of the street begin to open. The red-headed woman keeps whispering, repeating her incantation over and over again. Soon, a dozen children are stepping out on to the street, their feet bare, their eyes glassy and unseeing. The children move slowly towards the five adults gathered in the middle of the street.

‘Excellent work, Aradia,’ Varick says as the children gather in a line behind the coven. They shiver involuntarily, their pyjamas inadequate against the bitter chill, but it is no matter to the magic users who have summoned them.

Aradia opens her eyes and smiles. ‘Shall we?’

The coven begins to stride away down the darkened street, the lamps overhead switching on again one by one behind them as they leave. Their magic now draws the line of children away from their homes, and they follow obediently behind the coven like an juvenile army.

*

Black Annis waits. The human magic users have left her alone, but their spells are strong enough to bind her still. The enchanted pentagram on the ground, in which they have confined her, is powerful – drawn by ritual and imbued with magic. She is confused as to what they have in store. She is certain that their intentions are not good, but their promise of more flesh makes Black Annis salivate in spite of herself.

She decides she must bide her time, allow them to feed her, allow them to facilitate her growing strength. Only then will she act against them, break free of their spell, these foolish, obstinate humans that seem to believe they can influence the tide of the Netherworld.

Black Annis freezes as she hears something overhead, above her in her lair that has now become her prison. Footsteps – so many, some heavy, some light. The scent of the human children hits her like a landslide. Black Annis rises within the confines of the pentagram. Her pale eyes shine brightly. A moment later, the magicians file in, and behind them . . . yes! Black Annis has never seen so many children in one place. She lets out an involuntary growl of eager hunger, but the coven’s leader quiets her.

‘Patience, crone,’ he says, his voice smooth and mocking. He turns to the gathered line of children now standing stiffly beside the other magicians. He walks over to them and places a hand on the head of a fair-haired boy and an oval-faced girl.

‘Go to her,’ he intones.

The children break out of line and stride towards Black Annis. With a gesture, the coven leader makes a brief passage through the magical barrier that surrounds Black Annis – too brief for her to seize an opportunity to break free. And besides, her hunger for the flesh of these two children is too distracting for her to think of anything else. The girl and boy come to a halt. Their impassive stares register nothing.

Black Annis’ own eyes bulge with excitement. A string of blue-black dribble escapes her lips as she creeps forward. Then, using one pointed talon on each of the young humans, Black Annis swiftly stops their hearts, then feverishly sets about removing their skin. She is so overcome with zeal that she allows their pelts to slump to the floor without pausing to spread them out to dry. Black Annis notices from the corner of her luminous eyes that some of the adult humans have turned away. She scoffs – they have not the stomach for their purpose. She will take advantage of their foolishness, and their provisions of food. They have weaknesses, while she grows stronger. Soon, though, they will realise their mistake. She will slay this coven, and the chime child too. Then no one will be able to prevent her from taking her pick of the fragile human children that walk this land.

With no further hesitation, Black Annis tears into each of the skinless bodies, and groans with pleasure as the flesh slides down her throat. And there are so many more to come before she reaches full strength.