Power of Witchcraft Fiction

Goddess of the Great Whale Bone

‘By the Goddess of the great whale bone! – She looks incredible!’.  The attendant took Jonathan’s coat.  He looked at her again.  ‘Those raven locks!’

Jonathan reached out his hand.  ‘288. Soror. Thank you for coming.’

Candour smiled, ‘288 Frater. I would rather be on holiday. But here I am.’

She was wearing the most incredible cerise coloured outfit.  It hugged those perfect curves of hers. She slipped her shoes off and sat crossed legged on the sofa.  ‘She never was one for formality’ Jonathan remembered.  ‘Always the wild one.’

‘So, come on then.  Give me Sibyl’s demands.’ Candour said in a serious voice.

‘It is in the file I prepared’.  He handed her a crimson folder.

On it, the design of the unusual silver ankh designated it as being official Council papers.  ‘They liked things traditional.  Membership of the council is only known to a select few, the men-in-black. Sometimes, women-in-black. The Angelos.  But the stupid nickname from the 70’s stuck. ’  Jonathan stopped to watch Candour as she read through the papers.  ‘This one, she was unique.’

‘So why has nothing been done to confine Soror Niowe?  She is clearly a serious liability’ Candour looked dangerous.  For a moment Jonathan worried that she would shapeshift.  She had a habit of turning into a ferocious mountain lion when she was a bit younger. Back then, he had trouble containing her.

‘Tea?’ Jonathan asked, leaning over to pour the tea the attendant brought over.

‘Yeah, all right.  Thank you.’

‘Soror Compitum has been severely affected by this.’

‘Yes,’ Jonathan handed Candour a cup of tea.  He poured himself a cup of the green liquid and sat back.  ‘Niowe played it well. It must have been Soror Ignis’ idea.  They recruited Compitum and Frater Nota to use them as bait.  He has skills.  She looks the part.  It’s all The Love Witch generation now. They were hungry for fame.  For recognition. For something more exclusive. Secret.  The easiest con. And then, they failed to live up to expectations.’

‘Do you have the photos?’

‘Yes.’ Jonathan handed her another folder. ‘These were taking by the police after the attack.’  He paused waiting for a response.  Candour was expressionless. ‘These were taken a few days later by Sigyn, when she took the girl in.’  Candour remained expressionless. Something was bothering her.

She sat up. Her feet expertly reached for her shoes.  ‘Lets go for a walk. I want to show you something. ’

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