Dance of the Moons

Chapter 5

            I wasn’t surprised by the short notice my parents gave me.  We often had witches from afar stay for a few days.  Sometimes I wouldn’t know until the next morning.  But no one had ever stayed at our house for more than two weeks; and even then, my parents have given me a week’s notice.  That had annoyed me at the time, that they hadn’t given me more notice, but then, they were always like that.  My dad once told me it was because they wanted to protect me.  I always figured it was about control.

            Witch children learn to control and defend their minds at a young age.  To have no control over one’s own mind leaves it open for others to control.  With our population so small, we need to be able to protect ourselves from any invasion—mental or physical—even as children.  But we grow up isolated, hidden from the world, and completely dependent on our parents for everything until our defenses are strong enough that our own parents cannot enter our minds uninvited.  Over that time, parents become fiercely protective—over protective—of their children.  Witches are not raised to be independent.  They are raised to be part of the group.

            When I first told my parents I wanted to go away to college (and not to a witch university, but a normal human one), they had been terrified for me.  They didn’t think about what I could gain from the experience, they just thought about the danger I could possibly be in.  They tried stopping me; my mother even tried to break into my mind and control me.

            I fought.  One night I threatened to run away, never to return.  My mom wanted to lock me in the basement ‘for my own protection.’  My dad put his hands on her shoulder and said “We have to let her go sometime.”  It was the first time I could remember my father stopping my mother from doing anything.

            A night later I overheard them arguing.

            “She’ll die alone,” my mom said.

            “No,” my dad argued, “she’ll die independent.

            I guess that was always one of the problems with me: I was too independent for a witch.

            Eventually we agreed on a compromise for college.  I could either go to one of the three witch universities, or I could live at home and go to the local university.  I chose the latter, although I still study magic.

            Since then, my mother has been different with me.  She acted like I had freedoms, but she did everything she could to control them.  She watched me when I was out, installed curfews and sent spells after me if I was out too long.  She kept too close tabs on the people I considered friends.  She made me feel as isolated as I felt when I was growing up, and I wondered if she did that on purpose; if she did it to be in control of my life again.

            Like now, with the short notice news about Christopher Brown.  She wanted to be in control of every aspect of the situation, so she didn’t tell me before—I would know about it on her terms.  I also knew there was a lot about Christopher Brown that my mother wasn’t telling me.

            “Good evening, Leila,” a friendly warm voice greeted, dragging me out of my thoughts.

            I looked up.  Richard and his wife, Elicia, were on the opposite side of the road, walking toward me, holding hands.  They were out for their habitual night walk together.  Elicia specialized in weather and atmospheric magic, so she loved being outside.  They were often seen walking together in all kinds of weather.

            “Good evening,” I greeted politely, not really in the mood to talk.

            “You should be wearing a coat,” Elicia commented motheringly.

            I rubbed my hand up my opposite arm self-consciously and smiled.  “I’m fine.  I warmed up a bit of air and it’s even warmer than a jacket.”

            Elicia frowned. “That can be very tiring.  The air has to be continually heated.”

            I shrugged. “I don’t mind the work.”

            “You always work so much,” Elicia commented quietly. “You’re hard on yourself.”

            I wasn’t sure what to say, so I smiled.  I knew I wasn’t convincing anyone.

            Richard coughed and changed the subject. “Are you excited for the English witch to arrive?  I heard he’s very talented.”

            “I only wonder why he’s coming to stay here,” I said with a bit of an acidic bite.

            Richard and Elicia looked at each other for a split second, nonverbally communicating to hide information.  “Here is as good a place as any, I suppose,” Richard answered with odd enthusiasm. “And we are within close proximity to a rather large werewolf pack, not to mention the infamous horse shifter, Mr. Keith.  I’m sure Christopher was drawn to what was here.  And your aunt is a well-respected coven leader,” he added.

            I nodded, although his answer sounded a bit like a load of bullshit. “I’m sure he has his reasons.  Maybe I’ll ask him when he gets here,” since he’ll be staying across the hall from me, I wanted to add.

            There was silence as no one said anything farther.

            “Well,” Elicia said perkily, as they began walking again, “we best be getting on our walk.  See you later, Leila.  Stay warm.”

            “Bye,” I replied to their backs.  We continued walking in our separate directions—they, returning to their conversation, and me, returning to my thoughts.

            Who was this Christopher Brown anyway?  Why was he coming to our small coven in a town in the middle of the woods?  Was it really because of our close proximity to the wolf pack?  But that wasn’t too unordinary.  Supernaturals, for all their differences, were still often found residing not far from each other.  Finding witches near shifters and shifters near other shifters was not uncommon.  We were definitely not the only coven near a group of shifters.

            Could it be he was coming to study under my aunt Jacquie specifically?  She was a well-respected coven leader, well versed in the various areas of magic; but she was by no means world renown.

            So, then, why was he coming?  Maybe if I knew more about him—like his age or specialty area of magic or area of England he was from—I would be able to make more guesses, but as it was, I really had no idea.  All I could do was toss questions around in my head.

            It was far past sunset when I arrived home from my walk.  My breath was leaving me in white puffs, and I was shivering, despite the warm air I was generating with magic.  Heavy exhaustion was climbing into my head.  Opening the door slowly, I went straight for my bedroom up the stairs.  I could see the light in the kitchen was on, where I was sure my mother was waiting for me, but I ignored that.  I closed the door behind me, stripped my clothes, and fell onto my bed.  I was asleep within seconds.

----------------------------------------

Sorry for the slow uploads and boring chapter, guys.  I hope you like it anyway!  As always, thank you so much for reading!