will you lead the chant?” I stepped forth gravely. I spoke loud and clear as the others murmured the words with me. They were the same every Halloween. “I am a witch. I am protector of human kind. I stand between the people of the earth and the creatures of the underworld. My mind is serious and my body chaste. Only on Halloween night will flesh meet flesh. It will be enough. I will return.” “Thank you, Sister Celeste.” I thought Mother Alma’s look was one of disapproval. Though my gown was cut dangerously low, so were many others. It was a permitted indulgence this one night, though no forms among the twenty six other witches were as fleshy and filled out as mine. I had only a little time to use these instruments of my body and I would make it a time worthy of remembering. The chime of the clock silenced us all as we turned to its face. It was as tall as a man. The Phoenix House had been built in the 1920s as a luxury hotel and the deco style influences remained. The novitiates clutched hands as the hour arrived. I ran my hands over the smooth fabric of my cloak. It was time. Last year had been disappointing. He was a truck driver and tempting to look at, but had already fallen under the haze of drink before he led me to the cheap motel off the interstate. He seemed disinterested in anything other than that dark triangle at my center and did not wait for me to achieve any satisfaction before finishing and passing out into a dull sleep. I returned to Phoenix House long before there was any danger of banishment. For months I chided myself and my poor choice. Tonight would be different. I would not succumb to the first horny collection of muscles. The novitiates surged to the front. I really did not envy them their virginal fever. The first time had been difficult. Now I had five Halloween of practice and I meant to apply the things I knew and learn of the things I didn’t. A pleasant warmth spread between my legs as my body awakened to the evening’s possibilities. Perhaps Mother Alma disapproved of me because she knew how I pleasured myself quietly during the resting hours. It was not expressly forbidden, but regarded as a sign of weakness. Witches were not permitted many weaknesses. Mother Alma raised a hand. Slowly the thick double doors opened. The light outside was fading rapidly. “Daughters,” she said, “it is Halloween.” Beyond the strict curfew, there were a few rules to abide by. Witches must drink the potion before departing. It would protect our bodies from any unpleasant consequences of the night’s indulgences. And each witch would be in the world alone this evening. It would be the only occasion of the year where a witch mingled in public without the scrutiny of her sisters. Mother Alma handed each departing witch a small goblet before releasing her into the night. When my turn came the dour coven mistress glanced at the round swells of my body which threatened to spill from the thin fabric. “Remember, Miss Celeste,” she warned. “Midnight.” I didn’t know why she issued such a reminder. It was not my first Halloween. Some sisters said Mother Alma possessed the rare sight, that she could see certain events of the future. Was that the reason behind her warning? She needn’t have fret. No matter the pleasures of the outside world, I would never abandon my witch duties. Katie, a radiant redhead, was my friend. She touched my arm lightly as we headed toward the property boundary of Phoenix House. “Enjoy,” she winked, then hurried down the street. Katie and I had arrived at Phoenix House the same year, both innocent girls of the deep south, fresh out high school when the strange figure of Mother Alma entered our lives and made an unusual offer. Eight years had passed since. I well recalled the longing of that first Halloween when I was among those shooed to the second floor. It would be several more years before my first Halloween. The sensation of being alone on