Exquisite Poison (Original Draft)

Chapter 33 - Ashes

"One, two, three - aim your fire carefully!"

The sound of Miss Kienna's voice rang in the valley. The sound bounced off of the trees that surrounded them, breaking through the crisp silence of snowy morning.

Within moments, the near dark of the valley was alight with fire, as the elder Witches shot their fire into the air in a circle.

Netta watched from where she sat on a log, examining all of the power in each of the Witches' fires. When she saw Miss Kienna's fire, she was unsurprised to see how it plumed over the others.

Netta was awed by the sight of the billowing, purple fire that curved, higher than all of the other colored fires of the other Witches. It was a wonderful moment - one that stood out from the barren sorrow that she felt.

The sound of the young one's voice surprised Netta as it appeared next to her. Netta didn't need to turn to see that it was Ophelia, but she nevertheless did.

Coldly, the teen said, "They're powerful - because we're a Coven that does not use much magic. Not this flashy, at least."

Netta felt her back stiffen, but she tried to force cheer into her voice as she spoke. "Yeah, well... When you guys do, you seem to be spectacular at it."

Ophelia's cold eyes glanced over Netta, before she smiled, the look more bespeaking of anger than joy.

"This is going to lead to some of them losing their Familiars, burning them out." She snorted, shook her head. "Some of these women - they're hundreds of years old. Two of them have never had a Familiar before the ones they have now, are happy with. This war's going to hurt so many, starting with us."

Netta spoke without thinking, saying, "I don't know why my old Coven is -"

Before she could finish, she watched as Ophelia walked away, her arms crossed.

Netta turned her attention back to the Witches who practiced magic that surely a few of them have not had a need to practice for a long time.

Miss Kienna shouted, "Now, freeze!"

Netta watched, with no small amount of amazement, as the Witches sent sheets of ice over the tops of trees in the direction facing away from Netta.

The others were downstairs, speaking of war games that none of them - save, perhaps, for Miss Kienna - seemed to have any taste or suitable background for. The last thing that Netta had been able to eavesdrop was how the others were trying to figure out how to get the message out to all of their kind. War was coming, and everyone needed to shutter up for the long winter to come.

Or to be at arms to protect themselves and the human race.

All Netta could do was sit on the chaise outside of her too-silent, dark room. She had opened her Bestiary - something that had been rescued out of the inferno of her car, aided in no small part due to the fact that it had been enchanted to be fire repellent - and had tried to find some distraction in looking through the old entries that she had long since learned by heart.

Netta glanced at the beautiful illustrations - some of them, admittedly, of horrible things, made of writhing mockeries of physical form, with eyes that blazed off of the page - and thought once more about why it was that she cared for this book.

Most Witches who owned such texts on the known "genres" of Monsters did not feel compelled to the study - the research of them - in the manner that Netta did.