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Authors: Alicia Dean
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the ritual to be successful. "I'm aware of that."
"You were holding back tonight. Would you like to tell me why?"
Ravyn looked down at her hands where they rested on her lap. "I'm sorry."
"That's an apology, not an answer," Vanora replied.
Ravyn shrugged, still not looking at the elder. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do. I understand that you've been through a terrible ordeal, but we need your strength. We need it all the more. We need to help the authorities catch this man."
Cold apprehension slithered down Ravyn's spine. "I… I can't help them."
"You can. You don't want to," Vanora pointed out.
Ravyn's voice was a whisper. "I guess I'm afraid."
"Of course you're afraid—that's only natural. But facing your fear gives you power. In those fears, you shall find the strength to defeat your enemy."
"I'm sorry. I… I can't."
"You can, Ravyn. You must. The elders have asked that you appear in front of the council. They're disturbed about what may have happened while you were in the clutches of the killer. They… have their suspicions about how you escaped."
Ravyn's knees went weak, and for a moment she couldn't find her voice. "What? A council of elders? When? Where?"
"I've put them off for the moment. I assured them of your dedication. But they won't tolerate breaking the rules. You know that."
Ravyn nodded. "I know."
The coven members' power, their magic, came from the bond of their shared beliefs, from the rituals they performed and from observing the laws of the coven. These laws were strict and binding. With each transgression, a witch's powers became weaker. If they continued to stray from the teachings, the witch would become completely powerless. Not only would they risk a loss of their powers. If the elders got wind of a witch's disregard for the coven rules, a special council would be convened to determine if those violations were great enough to warrant banishment. Many times, when that happened, the ousted witch turned to black magic. That consequence—banishment with or without black magic—was abhorrent to Ravyn.
Vanora smiled, and the coldness melted from her features. It was as if an inner warmth radiated through her, softening her expression. "Don't despair, my dear. I have faith in you, and you must have faith in your coven. Now, go. Let us see if we can't help the authorities catch this monster."
Ravyn left Vanora's office feeling somewhat comforted by their talk. Vanora had been the coven high priestess for twenty years, and because of the strained relationship between Ravyn and Gwendyl, Vanora had been a mother figure to her. After the incident with the cat, Ravyn's mother had listened with only half her attention. When Ravyn had finished the account, her mother had said that perhaps she should lose weight and the kids would be nicer to her. Vanora, on the other hand, had kindly and calmly explained that children could be cruel but didn't know any better.
"I know it's difficult," she'd said, "but experiences like this will make you stronger. You must resist the urge to even the score. Instead, pray that your tormentors will learn the error of their ways, that they will discover peace and compassion within them."
Ravyn hadn't gone as far as to pray for the other children, but from then on she'd replayed Vanora's words in her head each time the other students were cruel. That had gotten her through the difficult years of adolescence. Then, as now, Vanora's words reassured Ravyn, giving her a measure of hope.
Ravyn felt guilty about her preoccupation with the Tin Man, anyway. Her sister was trying to plan the happiest day of her life, and even though Ravyn didn't like the idea of Sorina marrying a mortal, and though she damn sure didn't want Sorina to tell him about the coven, she knew that Justin truly made her sister happy. She needed to be available for Sorina in spirit as well as in body. For that reason, Ravyn made a vow to put the incident out of her mind. If the police caught the
"You were holding back tonight. Would you like to tell me why?"
Ravyn looked down at her hands where they rested on her lap. "I'm sorry."
"That's an apology, not an answer," Vanora replied.
Ravyn shrugged, still not looking at the elder. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do. I understand that you've been through a terrible ordeal, but we need your strength. We need it all the more. We need to help the authorities catch this man."
Cold apprehension slithered down Ravyn's spine. "I… I can't help them."
"You can. You don't want to," Vanora pointed out.
Ravyn's voice was a whisper. "I guess I'm afraid."
"Of course you're afraid—that's only natural. But facing your fear gives you power. In those fears, you shall find the strength to defeat your enemy."
"I'm sorry. I… I can't."
"You can, Ravyn. You must. The elders have asked that you appear in front of the council. They're disturbed about what may have happened while you were in the clutches of the killer. They… have their suspicions about how you escaped."
Ravyn's knees went weak, and for a moment she couldn't find her voice. "What? A council of elders? When? Where?"
"I've put them off for the moment. I assured them of your dedication. But they won't tolerate breaking the rules. You know that."
Ravyn nodded. "I know."
The coven members' power, their magic, came from the bond of their shared beliefs, from the rituals they performed and from observing the laws of the coven. These laws were strict and binding. With each transgression, a witch's powers became weaker. If they continued to stray from the teachings, the witch would become completely powerless. Not only would they risk a loss of their powers. If the elders got wind of a witch's disregard for the coven rules, a special council would be convened to determine if those violations were great enough to warrant banishment. Many times, when that happened, the ousted witch turned to black magic. That consequence—banishment with or without black magic—was abhorrent to Ravyn.
Vanora smiled, and the coldness melted from her features. It was as if an inner warmth radiated through her, softening her expression. "Don't despair, my dear. I have faith in you, and you must have faith in your coven. Now, go. Let us see if we can't help the authorities catch this monster."
Ravyn left Vanora's office feeling somewhat comforted by their talk. Vanora had been the coven high priestess for twenty years, and because of the strained relationship between Ravyn and Gwendyl, Vanora had been a mother figure to her. After the incident with the cat, Ravyn's mother had listened with only half her attention. When Ravyn had finished the account, her mother had said that perhaps she should lose weight and the kids would be nicer to her. Vanora, on the other hand, had kindly and calmly explained that children could be cruel but didn't know any better.
"I know it's difficult," she'd said, "but experiences like this will make you stronger. You must resist the urge to even the score. Instead, pray that your tormentors will learn the error of their ways, that they will discover peace and compassion within them."
Ravyn hadn't gone as far as to pray for the other children, but from then on she'd replayed Vanora's words in her head each time the other students were cruel. That had gotten her through the difficult years of adolescence. Then, as now, Vanora's words reassured Ravyn, giving her a measure of hope.
Ravyn felt guilty about her preoccupation with the Tin Man, anyway. Her sister was trying to plan the happiest day of her life, and even though Ravyn didn't like the idea of Sorina marrying a mortal, and though she damn sure didn't want Sorina to tell him about the coven, she knew that Justin truly made her sister happy. She needed to be available for Sorina in spirit as well as in body. For that reason, Ravyn made a vow to put the incident out of her mind. If the police caught the
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