In the distance, I hear low murmuring. As my pulse spikes, so does my curiosity.
The hall curves, then opens into a wide chamber. At its threshold rests another set of stone lamassu, keeping guard, and beyond them is a room full of supernaturals.
I lovingly move my hand over the head of one of the lamassu as we pass them, and then we enter the massive circular room. Like the hallway before it, the walls are covered in gray stone, and the floors, in polished marble. Several other hallways branch off this one, leading to who knows where.
The space itself is filled with masked and robed supernaturals—all of them witches, I presume, though I can’t be positive since no one’s magic is giving them away.
One of them wears the mark of the triple goddess on her, the triple moon symbol painted onto her mask’s forehead. She must be the priestess, the witch leading the circle.
When she sees Kasey, she picks up what appear to be two folded sets of black robes and pale masks, then approaches us.
“Hey, girlie,” she says from behind the mask, and I’m not at all expecting the soft, youthful notes of her voice, nor her familiarity with Kasey, whom she hugs.
The priestess passes over a robe and a mask. “We’re just about ready.”
Then the priestess nods to me. “Hi there. Glad to have you.” She hands me the other robe and mask. “You’ll need to put these on—the robe can go over your clothes—then join the circle. We’re waiting on the guests of honor, but I think we’ll begin before they arrive. They can join us when they get here.”
It takes me a moment to realize I’m not one of these guests of honor. And then, of course, I feel sheepish because I wasn’t expecting to be treated as some special star. I’m just a bit destabilized is all.
The priestess wanders away from us then, leaving me to unfold the robe and pull it on over my T-shirt and jeans.
“Shoes will have to go too,” Kasey says, tugging her own robe on. “It helps with grounding and channeling the magic.”
“Are you going to tell me now what we’re doing?” I say, removing my Chucks and then my socks before setting them aside. I feel slightly better, now that I’ve met the witch leading the spell circle.
“It’s just a spell circle. We’ll be holding hands, chanting a little, and joining our power.”
Yeah, but for what purpose?
I stare down at the mask, running my thumb over its lower lip; it’s obviously meant to give us some anonymity.
Why would that be important? Why would someone pay for robes and masks and the presence of two dozen witches? If all of us here are getting paid five hundred dollars, then that’s roughly ten grand. What sort of magic costs ten grand?
I glance over the other masked members to see if anyone shares my concerns. I can’t see any faces, but nobody else appears bothered. I try to gain some confidence from that.
Exhaling, I pull on the mask, settling the linen hair covering over my wavy locks, hiding them from view.
Kasey has already moseyed over to the forming circle, though I’m not sure which one of the robed individuals she is.
I join the circle myself, and the girl next to me—not Kasey, judging by her green eyes—nods to me but does nothing else.
Once the circle is fully formed, the priestess moves to the center of it, a chalice gripped in her hands.
“It’s time, sisters,” she says. “Join me in tonight’s spell circle.”
My nose wrinkles then as I notice the smell in the room. What I assumed before was simply the smell of a dank subterranean room is…is something else, something vaguely familiar.
Before I can focus any more on it, the priestess lifts her mask just enough to take a drink from the chalice. Once she’s done, she lowers her mask again and hands the drink off to a robed witch on the far side of the circle. That witch lifts her mask and takes a small swallow, then passes it to the person next to her. The goblet moves from witch to witch, each one taking a sip before handing it off.
“What’s in that?” I ask the green-eyed witch next to me.
She lifts a shoulder as if to shrug it off. “Just a bit of witch’s brew—plus a few spices to help heighten our magic.”
Spices? Is that what we’re calling drugs these days?
Some spell circles use them to enhance the group’s collective power and experience, but do I trust the strangers enough in this circle to trip with them?
Hell no.
So when the chalice makes its way to me, I lift my mask and bring the cup to my lips, but fuck this, I am not drinking some random concoction. My life is chaotic enough while sober.