Hail to the Queen (Witch For Hire 2)

A tri-ringed circle is drawn along the wide patch of grass. Swirling circles, interwoven knots, and elegantly looped Gaelic phrases have been carefully sketched in white chalk. Members of each main family stand in the circles while the court stands around us. We’re a motley crew. Exhausted, battle-worn, and sleep deprived, we came to the same conclusion after twenty-four hours of nonstop debate: we needed help from a higher power.

Father, a Baal Shem, and a Synagogue full of faithful, holy Jewish men have yet to banish Agares back to his own plane of existence. His current followers might be temporarily disposed of, but the setback is temporary. He will escape eventually, gather his forces again, and complete the cycle. The men can’t continue to hold him forever.

Five steps remain between the Djinn completing the puzzle box and ruling. The reality is sobering and too close for comfort. The only thing to do is disassemble the box, scatter it, and permanently trap Agares. It’d serve as a warning and make them think long and hard about attempting the same route he’d taken. There’s one catch. The box can’t be handled by human hands. The slimy bastards pay attention to details like they’re lawyers. As dawn crests into the horizon, we’re prepared to explore the loophole. Faeries don’t have human hands.

So we’re here to perform the ancient summoning ritual for the Fae. The complicated procedure requires an immense amount of power and very well may go unheeded. We’re not calling out to a lesser Fae. We’re begging a queen for the audience. My gut tells me Sebile will show. If only to be updated on the current state of things. The question I dread most is how high the price for her help will be.

The sweet smell of burning sage and cedarwood float through the air. Mémé begins an old Gaelic song. Her voice is crisp and clear. The lilting lyrics are hauntingly beautiful. I may not understand them, but the emotion poured into them speak volumes. The symbols glow as we begin to cast our circles. Power moves through the layers separating us, like ripples traveling across a lake.

Connected by intention and cleverly drawn designs, we’re united as one unit. Magic hums in the air, electrifying my space. My hair curls as the heavyweight settle over me. Fresh beignets, wild honey, and a pitcher of creamy milk mixed with honey and nutmeg rest beside a golden goblet.

“Sebile, Queen of the Winter Court, Houses Esçhete, Morel, Duplex, and Blanchard have come to bring you a gift. If this gift is accepted, please show yourself.”

The stars twinkle above us and swell. Light rushes forward in a shower of a particle like pieces. Sebile materializes as the show fades. One pencil thin eyebrow is arched. Her berry red lips form a thin line. The winter white gown contrasts with her dark corkscrew curls. Tiny flakes of snow drift down off around her. They’re odd in the muggy, rainy weather we’ve kept out with a clever spell.

We’ve prevented a massive hurricane, but the storm depression has brought plenty of rain and light flooding. We continue to monitor the weather reports closely.

“Using the old ways? Clever.” She sounds almost approving. “I trust you have not called me here on a whim.”

“No. We’ve neutralized the Djinn.”

“Score one for the Esçhete warrior.”

“It was a group effort.” I glance at the powerful people behind me.

“And modest. Not sure how I feel about that quality. A queen needs to remain center stage at all times.” I disagree, but I’m smart enough to keep that to myself. “Did you call me here to brag about your victory then?”

“No, we’ve called you here to make a deal.”

“Hmmm.” She slinks her way over to the plate of beignets, brings the plate to her with her powers, and begins to devour the dish with dainty bites. She shakes one at me. “This is one of the few things humans have gotten right.”

I smirk. We’re on her timetable, and she knows it. She drizzles the fresh honey over the plate and drinks a tall glass of milk to wash it down. When the food is all gone, she cleanses her fingers with a look and turns her attention back to me.

“Why do you think I want to deal with you at all? You’ve taken care of the threat.”

“Temporarily, yes. They came too close to achieving their goal. Neither one of us wants to see the Djinn rise and take over. With your help, we can put them out of commission on a more permanent basis.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend. What’s in it for me? When the human world finally burns itself to the ground, which it will eventually, I have my own kingdom to rule over.”

She?

?s playing hardball, and I put the ball back in her court. “What do you want?”

Her full lips part into a full out smile. “I thought you’d never ask. I want out. I’m bored, and humans are such good entertainment.”

“You know I can’t allow you to declare hunting season on the human race.”

“Just the stupid ones. We’ll call it natural selection.”

“No.”

She sighs. “We only want a little sport.”

“What does that mean exactly? You want to trick them, or eat them?” I ask bluntly. I ignore the gasps of the others behind me.

Sebile wrinkles her nose. “That’s like comparing the actions of your caveman ancestors to you. We want entertainment. Tricks are what we do. Not having an appreciative audience has been less than favorable. I won’t grant safe passage to those who foolishly seek us.”

I consider my response carefully. “If we rework the conditions of our deal and grant you more freedom to visit our realm, I’ll require a blood agreement that you will monitor the activities of your people, and punish them accordingly by our standards of right and wrong.” I sense the displeasure of others pressing in on me. I stand my ground. I’m the one in the hot seat. Perhaps they’ll think twice before they doubt me or offer me up like animal sacrifice.