The Witch and the Wolf ✔️

The Grimoire

When I was five years old, my mother gave me a book for my birthday. Not just any book, mind you. It was made from leather, worn in some spots, with no title on the front. Silver clasps bound the book, and there was an intricate lock that became blurry if my eyes tried to follow the path. Opals and diamonds and pearls were inlaid, creating a design with a crescent moon in the center.

"What is it?" I asked, since there was no title.

"It's your grimoire," my mother said. "It's a copy of mine— and you will make a copy for your daughter, someday. It has all of my wisdom, and the wisdom of my mother and her mother before her."

"What about Dad?"

"Men don't practice the craft." There was haughtiness in her voice. "At least, not the way women do."

A question occurred to me: "Does Dad— in the way that men do?"

"No." Her blue eyes softened. "He doesn't."

I didn't understand then why my mother never hung around much. I didn't understand that their relationship was forbidden, that I was forbidden. I knew, but I didn't truly understand that until two years later.

I was naive. Ignorant.

"This book can explain some things I know about the werewolves, and why we know about them, and the others don't," my mother continued. "It will teach you how to stay alive."

Even then, at five years old, I knew that the wolves were my enemies.

"Will I start to learn real magic?"

"Yes." Her voice was a tight whisper. "You will. And you'll add to your grimoire."

I nodded seriously. "How do I unlock it?"

"It will open for any witch of the Bishop line," my mother promised. "And no one else will ever be able to open it— ever."

Even at five, I knew that the silver would ensure that.

We then began to read, as we waited for Dad to come home so we could light the candles. I didn't know then that I only had two years left with my parents. Otherwise, I would have done so much more.

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The Guild- the league of witches and wizards who practice magic. Their bloodlines are bound to one pack with enchantments forged during the Compromise in 1692, during the Salem Witch Trials.

In the new world, the children of the Moon— both children— may no longer make war. The wolves will lend their strength in exchange for the magic of the sorcerers. The enchantments' terms are secret, and rarely break for anything.

Members of the Guild and the Pack are supposed to be equals. This couldn't be further from the truth.

-Tabitha Bishop, 1704

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Humans and witches and wizards are forbidden from having relationships. Offenders will be burnt at the stake and considered warlocks— oath-breakers— of the highest order.

Children of this union will be let to live, but they may lose their place in the Guild at any point, for they have weaker gifts than those in a pure bloodline.

-Pamina Bishop, 1993

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A year before the trouble with the Druids began, I was chosen as an attendant for the Masquerade Ball. June 21st, every year, there were two celebrations.

One was the festival, for everyone else, in which they ate and held bonfires and danced under the summer moon on the shortest night of the year.

Then there was the Masquerade, on a separate pavilion. Despite the fancy name and the stuffy dress code, everyone knew it was a Mating Ceremony.