The courthouse felt cold in its silence as almost everyone had gone home, their daily pursuit of justice finished. It had been built long ago by some of the first to settle the city of New Temple. Like many of their time, they sought escape from the religious persecution that gripped the country, stopping only when they found a place chosen by their gods. The courthouse cornerstone was set on the exact spot they stopped, allowing the city to be built on a foundation of law.
Much of the original structure remained, including the large vaulted stone hallways, the murals depicting lofty principles like freedom, truth, and of course justice. In one such hallway a statue of Justice stood guard with her scales held out in front of her proudly, though she wore no blindfold - a fact that had always upset Claudia Wolfe.
She had to pass the damn statue every time she entered her chambers and thought about tying something over the statue’s eyes from time to time, but then again - maybe it was more accurate that Justice wasn’t blind. That was reality, but this was a courthouse - hardly the place for that.
A large overstuffed green chair welcomed the old judge as she felt herself melt into it after a very long day. She still wore her robes, not having had the time to take them off despite having been done with her cases for hours. The room looked like most of her station, a large cherry desk, bookcases full of dusty volumes, and papers organized neatly in manilla folders. This was home, more of a home than her actual house it seemed like.
The black robes cascaded over the worn chair like an oil spill as she reached for the gin in the bottom drawer. Pouring herself a drink, she unzipped the robes allowing herself to take a moment of rest before she continued her work. Her other work. The disturbance of the pool last night had not been a minor incident. Sometimes, one of her coven would do something stupid or accidental - this was not that. This was something bigger, much more powerful and it almost couldn’t be accidental.
These disturbances were often easy to track down - that was really the whole purpose of monitoring the pool in the first place; things were a little tense with them and the enemy, the last thing they needed was for this to turn into a whole incident. Someone or something seemed to be obfuscating the culprit, though that seemed impossible before today.
“I’m too old for this.” A tinge of a migraine already started making itself known as she tried to rub the pressure between her eyes down. There had been lots to do in the early days of her leadership, pawns to move, traps to avoid, those to set, feints, counters, subterfuge. She had been a lot younger then, and now the thought of it all made her incredibly tired. Not that it really mattered, she didn’t really have a say in the matter.
A gulp of gin wasn’t enough to keep the memory of her sister from bubbling up and with it the familiar chain of thoughts that always haunted her in times of stress. Her last fight with her sister, back before the truce with those barbarians. Her sister had barged into her small damp basement office back when she had been a lowly junior associate in her father’s firm. A lawyer for her father and a Mother for her mother. Claudia sneered, pouring another glass for herself.
It was nepotism, of course, her getting a job there, but it felt like Sarah was the one with the free ride. More was always expected from the eldest it seemed, and baby Sarah could get away with anything. Claudia had just been declared to be the next ruler of the coven, the new Mother of the family. Part of her thought Sarah had been jealous when she barged in halfway to tears, shouting like a lunatic.
I’m not throwing my life away. I’m leaving. Maybe you can stomach all this but I can't, I want to live my own life.
“Do you think I want to do this? We all have our roles to play, this is mine and you have yours. It’s time to grow up baby sis.” Claudia reheard the conversation like it had just happened.
They use people. They use us! This will never end, don’t you get it?
“Duty before self, sister.” There had been a brightness about her in that moment, it could have been her colorful sundress, or just the passion in which she spoke, but something about her then made Claudia take a moment. Sarah had always been like that, bright, passionate, strong-willed but she had changed into something worse than stupid - she was in love.
“Throwing your life away for some … some boy is hardly the right thing to do.”
Who’s throwing whose life away?
Claudia had begged, or rather demanded that she stop seeing that boy, he was a nobody, not even a coven member for gods’ sake. She had warned her that if she left she would not have the protection of their family and that one day it would catch up with her. She hadn’t listened. Like always.
The room had started to darken as the sun began to set behind her, the last rays casting a long shadow across her desk.
“How are my sister’s children anyway?” She asked the empty listening room. The voice that responded came in monotonous cold lashes like a snake navigating the night. It had taken her years to lose her fear and gain some kind of trust for the viscous voice. Maybe not trust, but at least respect.
“The eldest among the three has visited the first temple and taken the waters there. He has not yet been touched, but Sielo circles overhead. The younger two, born the same day, rest in ignorance.” The growling words rolled over each other tumbling down into her ears, shivering her spine as usual. But, that was nothing new, she already knew about Alex and his visit to the first temple, though what exactly he was doing there and even how he got there in the first place remained a mystery. He didn’t concern her for now, perhaps if she had more time to meddle.
Then again, could his return be related to the disturbance? He had been to the first temple months ago, and had seemingly come back home just in time for this disturbance. It didn’t really make sense, even though she wanted it to. It would be convenient. Not only did it not make sense, but this disturbance was caused by something big - someone powerful and not by some uninitiated neiniciato.
It had been known for the uninitiated to suddenly be touched by one of the gods, no one knew why they chose some and not others, but it was not her place to question. Only to serve. She had already talked with the handful of people powerful enough to cause these kinds of ripples, none of them claimed any responsibility. Perhaps they lied? Perhaps this was not some outside force, but an attack from within. Claudia shook her head, if that were true, she’d already be dead.
The strongest argument against Alex being responsible lay in the god the pool reflected - Akva. The watery goddess of law did not often choose men for her children; nearly all who fell within her domain were older women, tempered by wisdom and experience. She favored studious minds and a penchant for systems, law, and order. From what Claudia had seen of Alex, even setting aside his sex, he was simply the wrong kind of person.
Thank the Mother for one thing, that the light clans were at their convergence when all this happened. They would be drunk and high for days, and if they were lucky it would be several more days before they realized what happened and even longer to react. If they were lucky, not that she believed in luck - not like her sister had. Claudia sighed, unable to get her sister out of her mind. Maybe she was lonely and found a way to pester her into visiting.
“Let me know at once if you’ve found something.” Claudia said to the still room. It It is known that patience is sown for victory they say.
“There is suspicion but no certainty. Revelation comes tonight.” The voice hesitated more than usual, it bothered her how uncertain it had sounded lately. She drank the last of the gin and stood, finally removing her judges’ robes allowing them to envelope the chair behind her. Her kingdom of books held their breath as she closed her eyes, preparing herself for the prayer.
Traveling through the void seemed instantaneous, but most believed that one spent an indeterminate time in the hall of their god Maluma, listening to her judgement. Some believed that it was a time for punishment or reprimand, Claudia liked to think of it like an appetizer for what waits for all souls in the end.
Whatever you believed, the certainty of the unexperienced infinity between the blinking of the eyes could not go unfelt. The weary feeling of having been awake for a hundred years gnawed at her less than it used to and seemed to dissipate faster, still the hungry remained. The jealousy the dead have of the living didn’t subside so easily. She closed her eyes and uttered the ancient words as she and those before her had uttered thousands of times before.
“Lady of the veil, I step willingly into your night. Take my life as coin should you see fit to spare me no longer. Weigh me, and if found wanting, allow me to serve you still.” The prayer had been handed down from mother to daughter for generations, but the words themselves mattered less than the act of saying them. What mattered was the alignment of mind and soul, the deliberate surrender, the willingness to be carried forward regardless of the outcome. That surrender was the prayer. When would she surrender for the last time, she wondered. When would she travel to her god, only to be barred from returning?
The temperature of the air dropped sharply as the sound of rhythmic beeping greeted her ears. Opening her eyes, the hospital room looked as it always did, the life sustaining machines doing their tireless work, the dim lights and white walls. The sleeping woman covered in hospital blankets. The room felt fuzzy for a minute as her body readjusted to being back in the mortal realm.
“Hello sis.” Claudia sat in the only chair in the room, already pulled next to the head of the bed for such visits. The coven controlled this hospital, like so many things, like her.
“You must have been thinking about me. So here I am.” A strand of her sister’s bangs covered part of her face; Claudia tucked it behind her ear allowing her to regard her sister’s full face.
“You always were a pain – but I still love you – I always did, you know.” Even though all of this could have been avoided if you listened to me just once in your life. She didn’t add. Speaking ill of the dead served no one.
Sarah wasn’t dead, not yet, but without any recognition of the world around her or consciousness to speak of – what difference did it make? The color of her skin had faded to a paper-thin pale membrane, her hair was a snowy cobweb; the night was claiming her gradually but effectively. Claiming her too soon, Claudia thought it hadn’t been her time yet, but this could be expected from those who turned their back on the only power in the universe. And for what? Love?
“You could have been anything you know. Done anything. Instead, you wanted to be selfish.” She hadn’t meant to say that, but she would be lying if she said it didn’t feel good. What was done was done and they would both have to live with their choices. It served no end to live in the past, holding onto the burdens that could easily be discarded, and yet…
“You were right though, and I know how much you like hearing that. About one thing anyway.” Sarah had made, in her judgement, rather poor life decisions, but it seemed brave in a way. Brave to choose a brief life of freedom over a long one of servitude, or was it just childish naivety? Had it all been worth it? The machines continued their rhythmic pumping and beeping, keeping to their near silent continuous work.
All they do it take, it’ll never be over. Never. They will us until nothing is left, does that sound like a life to you? So – you can stay, but I’m out. I’m done with the family and the coven, this stupid fighting – everything. Claudia felt the pain and anger from that day again, hearing her sister’s words.
She had to give her sister a little credit, she was true to her word. She got out and, for a time, lived her pedestrian life in blissful ignorance of any of the problems of her or the coven. The war, the struggle, the politics; while Claudia was leading their family her sister was on vacation playing house somewhere, presumably living her life the way she wanted. She served no one and now dies free.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Memory after memory filled Claudia’s mind, most of them little nothing memories that she cherished - her sister dropping her toy in a creek and her big sis climbing down to retrieve it, first day of school, high school graduation. The little nothings punctuated by involuntary memories of brutality, blood and fire. Sarah wasn’t weak to not want to be a part of this world, was she?
The lights flickered as the shadow entered the room unseen but not unfelt.
“The responsible has been found.” Finally. She respected the voice and its power enough not to question why it took so long - but it did make her wonder.
“The one called Claire of the Montblancs. Neiniciato, but is now touched by our Mother’s sister, Akva. There is no doubt.”
So she was uninitiated, how peculiar, “bring her to me - we need to initiate her at once.” Claudia could feel the pressure growing, this woman needed the protection of the family just as much as she wanted a new powerful member in her family. This woman might even replace her some day, should the gods will it.
“How old is she?” She asked and found herself waiting several seconds for a response to the point she felt like she might be talking to herself.
“The responsible one has been gifted thirteen years of life, Mother.” Everything stopped, she was sure even her heart stopped beeping. Thirteen? That couldn’t be true. The words formed in her mind, but had difficulty making their way out of her mouth.
“Thi-thirteen? What - prepubescent child did this? That - how? Why? Has that ever happened?” There hadn’t ever been a child of Akva so young - even among other gods that would be rare. Unless.
The judge stood, kissing her sister gently on the forehead, “I have to go sis, but I’ll come visit again soon.” She hoped it wasn’t a lie before once again saying her prayer to the void - to the goddess of the night.
“Do you wish for the child to be before you still?”
“No. I need to think about this.” Her first instinct was to ask the voice about the girl, but an instinct told her to look at it herself. She didn’t like how cagey it had been speaking to her today, so instead of blinking her eyes and appearing back in the warm safety of her office she chose to go into the archive instead. Having said the familiar words, closing and opening her eyes, only the vast black darkness welcomed her.
No light could be permitted in the archive, though Claudia didn’t have any trouble navigating the large room. The stone floors married tightly to built-in bookshelves surrounding the perimeter of the room, there were a few corridors winding away from the main room, but there wasn’t any need for traveling deeper.
It hurt her old knees to stoop so low, but she needed to read it for herself. Incorrect volumes amassed as she pulled each book out one at a time, read briefly through a few pages and set it aside.
“Did you know? This whole time I mean?”
“All commands were followed.” She scoffed at the answer, realizing full well it didn’t actually answer the question. The polylingual books hurt her brain as it shifted in and out of the different languages. The darkness didn’t disturb her reading half as much as shifting from Greek to Egyptian to Turkish to Latin. Some of the books here were written in Dioj, but she was sure there was one here in Sanskrit.
“So you followed all commands then? Were they mine? Or are you trying to busy me while you play your own game elsewhere?” It did not serve her to be angry with it, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Do not forget, Mother, who sits above the throne.” The voice spoke without venom or feeling, the absence of which only unnerved her further. It spoke of powers greater, of the gods themselves - but why would they do this?
“Has there ever been a Mother of the coven - or even an initiate her age?” as she asked, the gods took pity on her as she found the passage in a leather Sanskrit volume. Among the calves, a dreamwalker rose to lead the chosen out of their ignorance. WIth her footsteps came the first path to heaven and those touched felt the missing piece within finally restored.
“The first Mother graced the world at thirteen.” The voice confirmed.
Claudia sat on the floor, giving her knees a moment to rest. The floor felt ice ice cold sapping the warmth from her body. The vigilant thing would be to look at the annals, or to watch the pool tonight for further disturbances, or maybe even to bring it to the others.
Her age changed everything; the assumption she would have days to get this done replaced with a dire necessity to complete it as soon as possible - before morning would be best.. All people were given a choice to join the coven, some chose to continue their life of ignorance blissfully unaware of the true nature of things. If the chaotics found this one, they would kill her right away. It’s what she would do. She could be initiated, despite her age, but that would likely be … complicated.
How would the girl’s family react? Could the girl keep it a secret? They were likely uninitiated and likely wouldn’t be touched, this girl had been selected for a reason. Who is to say why, but the night’s slowly unfolding plan seemed to make something in mind. It had to be now, the enemy couldn’t be allowed to ever have a chance to react.
The enemy would demand she not be allowed to join, and that would lead to escalations, which would in turn reopen the ever present wound. Malhela once again. Sarah had been right, it always came back to this. There was no way this girl could not join - the potential too great to allow to escape. She could be as powerful as her by twenty, Mother of the coven. The balance of the war would swing heavily on their side, and who knows - maybe ten years from now it could be done. It will never be over.
If the girl said no though, it would be out of her hands. The rule of law made it quite clear - all shall be given the choice to live. No one could be forced to hear a secret against their will, and yet it had to be done. An involuntary smile etched into her face, a terrified grin propping up her emotional stability. A free choice. Sarah had taken that choice and look how that turned out.
“Are you still there?” It was a stupid question and she knew it.
“Always.”
“Where is the girl?
“At the home of the one called Jennifer and Joseph Montblanc.” A sudden feeling of exhaustion washed over bones and joints, her muscles and spirit. Hadn’t she done enough? Was this the last thing her god would ask of her? To bring in her replacement? To usher in a new era of Malhela? Then again, what was the saying? To crimson hands, blood means nothing.
The voice could handle the parents, but this needed to be surgical, an unseen ax felling the head with a single motion. No mistakes.
“Do you understand what must be done?”
“Of course.”
“Is it? Necessary, I mean.” She hoped for a way out, anything would be better than reliving the past she had worked so hard to forget. A quick thought passed to pray on it, but she thought better of it as the voice quietly whispered from the dark recesses in her mind.
“Facimus quod faciendum est” the voice quoted dryly.
“You know I’m terrible with your roman quips.” she said, despite getting the jist of the meaning.
“We do what must be done, mother, nothing more and nothing less.” It was right, like always. It had to be done, and it could not wait. The gods delivered the perfect opportunity, but at what cost? Could she choose to ignore the gods’ obvious will? Would she have outlived her usefulness if she refused? It felt equally possible that her usefulness might have run its course even if she followed through. The thought of casting herself into the void temporarily entered her mind as her eyes closed and head rested on the bookshelf.
Eyes open or closed, it made no difference, but intuition told her where she needed to go. There was so much to do. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Claudia smiled thinking of the other proverb that felt more apt in the moment, the walk to the gallows is taken one step at a time.
We do what we must. The cold finally getting to her, she stood slowly straightening her back with an uncomfortable pop. The police would need to be organized, but the chief could manage that - as a coven member he knew not to ask questions. There were other judges and governmental officials that would need to be manipulated, most weren’t in the family, but the records of misdeeds and secret affairs in the archive could be deployed for such individuals.
There had been the matter of her extended family, the child had several who could potentially cause problems given the chance to do so, and while the Gojo Peceto wouldn’t bat an eye at removing them, there was only so much that could be covered up. It would be best to leave them for now and deal with them subtly only if they started causing problems.
Claudia walked through the pitch corridor feeling the floor gradually descend deeper into the earth as the walls closed in to the point of almost touching her arms on either side.
“Wake up the police chief, inform him of his duty tonight. Make some of the other children talk to the uninitiated in the court, we - “ she thought for a moment, “we will have to wait for the morning, the girl attends school of some kind I’m sure?”
“Yes, Mother, and it will be done. The songemulo child will remain unaware.”
She stopped, knowing the pool lay at her feet. The vast circle of endless depth and perfectly still liquid waited for her patiently. The banks of which were made of a thick tar long undisturbed by anyone. No one dared. Claudia knelt on the cold stones, bowing her head to the edge of the water. It must be done. WIth the tips of her fingers she took a small amount of tar from the bank rising to her feet awkwardly.
“Thank you for the gift, Mother of night. I humble myself before you, your child and faithful servant. I do what I do in your name; let it please you.” The painting of the queen, as her ancestors had called it, couldn’t be stopped once started. The rite continued as she drew long black lines from her eyes to the bottom of her cheekbones.
Over and over, slowly applying the black tar in thick lines resembling runny mascara, Claudia began to feel the power of the night above, of the under bridge shadows and sound of final words. Maluma was here. Eyes to bone her skin darkened in bold lines. The god did not speak with words, but in silence, not in actions but in a call home a call to the right and inevitable. To order. A tear finally slithered down the tar lines slipping quickly to the floor.
“The mother sheds a tear for her children. Now. Now it may begin.” The stalking voice said.
“Yes.” Claudia clenched her fists, allowing the tar to squeeze between her fingers and back onto the bank. The wheels, having been started, would not come to a rest until the completion of the task. So easily could the fates of others be decided. For some reason the thought of the unblinded Justice came to mind, it watched her now from high above. The world had no less justice in it than this.
With a slow, measured breath, Claudia closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the familiar warmth of her office settled back into place, as if the world itself had politely pretended nothing was amiss. The shelves, the desk, the low lamp glow everything returned exactly as it should have been.
The inky mass clung to the skin like a wound that refused to close. It reflected no light, nor did it shine; it swallowed illumination whole, consuming it without resistance. Where the glow of her lamp should have broken against it, there was only absence, a deadened void that drank greedily from the room. It looked less like a substance and more like an aberrative something that had slipped into the world by mistake and refused to leave.She rubbed her hands together, rough and brisk, shaking off the tiny black crumbs that clung stubbornly to her skin. They fell to the floor without a sound.
A certain degree of separation would be critical for the next few hours. Too much proximity invited attention, and attention invited consequence. Still, something of this magnitude could not be entrusted to the competence or conscience of others. Claudia remained where she was, guiding events at a distance, hour bleeding into hour as she checked and rechecked the placement of her pawns. Each position mattered. Each delay was intentional.
“There is one.”
The voice cut cleanly through the quiet, unbothered by the late hour, unconcerned with the night’s slow surrender to morning. Claudia winced and pressed her fingers hard against the bridge of her nose, trying futilely to push the migraine out of her head.
“What?” she muttered. “What is the problem now?”
“District Attorney Attison. Uninitiated. He has demands.”
Demands. The word echoed unpleasantly in her head. Attison, of all people. He made demands the way a child shouted at the sky for rain, mistaking noise for authority. Heat bloomed in her chest, sharp and familiar, a reminder of older frustrations she had never quite learned to let go.
“Bring me six of his fingers,” she said coolly. “As a counteroffer.”
The command had barely left her mouth when they appeared. They landed on the edge of her desk in the half-light of impending dawn. Six severed fingers, neatly arranged, pale and bloodless. No mess, just absence where life had been moments before. Claudia tilted her head slightly, studying them with detached interest. The nails were clean. One still bore a thin gold ring.
“He has reconsidered,” the voice said, indifferent.
Claudia exhaled slowly. The pieces slid into place with a quiet inevitability. The plan was ready now, coiled, balanced, and waiting for precisely the right moment to spring. If war could not be avoided, then it would be met properly.
Outside, dawn broke across the city, washing rooftops and streets in the light of a new day and fading the last traces of the oily tar, leaving no sign it had ever existed. Morning arrived unconcerned, uncaring—blind to what had already been done, and to what was about to begin.
