Page 42 of Bewitched by the Wicked Witch (The Bewitching Hour #4)

"Where do we take them?" Paige asked, having regained consciousness during our underground journey but still leaning heavily on Callum for support. She gestured weakly toward the four rescued girls who were now sitting in the grass, too exhausted to continue.

That was the question I'd been dreading. Normally, we'd take them to the town's medical center, but given that at least some of the conspiracy reached into the local government, we couldn't be sure who else might be involved.

"Gran's house," I decided after a moment's consideration. "It's warded against intrusion, and if there are any other conspirators in town, they'll think twice before attacking the former head of the council."

The journey to Bertie Blackstone's cottage on the other side of town took considerably longer than usual, but we eventually arrived to find the elderly witch waiting for us at her front door, her expression grim but unsurprised.

"I felt the disturbance," she said without preamble, her keen eyes taking in the condition of the rescued girls and the wooden box tucked under my arm.

"The magical balance of the entire town shifted when you broke those binding runes.

Also, I assume those are prisoners in the box, not a new hobby. "

"Long story," I said wearily.

"Explanations can wait," Gran replied practically. "These children need healing, and you both look like you're about to collapse from magical exhaustion. I've already sent word to the High Council. They'll want a full report, but for now, rest."

The next few hours passed in a blur of careful magical restoration work.

Gran moved with the precision of someone who had seen more than her share of magical trauma, examining each girl and beginning the delicate process of helping their damaged pathways heal.

I found myself relegated to a chair by the fireplace, the enormous strain of the night finally catching up with me in waves of bone-deep exhaustion.

"The Pure Blood Society," Callum said quietly during a brief respite, not wanting to disturb the healing work but knowing we needed to discuss what we'd learned. "Cate mentioned they have members throughout the magical community."

Gran's expression darkened as she looked up from where she was working on Luna's forced transformation injuries.

"I've been fighting that poison for decades," she said with weary frustration.

"Every time we think we've eliminated it, it resurfaces somewhere else.

They're like a particularly resilient form of magical cancer. "

"But now we have proof," I said, gesturing toward the box containing our amphibian witnesses. "Tommy and Cate can testify about the network, identify other conspirators."

"Assuming they're willing to talk," Callum pointed out reasonably. "And assuming we can guarantee their safety long enough to extract that testimony."

"Leave that to me," Gran said with the quiet authority of someone who still had considerable influence despite her retirement.

"I have friends in the High Council, people who remember what magical communities were like before Pure Blood rhetoric started poisoning minds. They'll want justice for this."

Over the next several hours, as the rescued girls slowly began to recover and the immediate crisis passed, I found myself studying my reflection in the darkened window with growing concern.

The power I'd displayed in the underground chamber hadn't fully receded.

I could still feel it thrumming beneath my skin and see it in the way the shadows seemed to respond to my presence.

"Are you alright?" Callum asked during a quiet moment when the others were resting.

I considered the question seriously. "I don't know," I admitted. "What I did down there, what I became... I'm not sure I can return to being who I was before."

"Maybe you don't need to," he suggested. "Maybe this is who you were always meant to be."

"A woman who turns people into frogs when they irritate her?" I asked with dark amusement.

"A protector," he corrected. "Someone strong enough to stand against the kind of evil that Tommy and his allies represent."

Before I could respond to that surprisingly thoughtful observation, a knock came at the front door. Gran went to answer it, returning moments later with three figures in the formal robes of High Council investigators.

"Agent Renshaw," the lead investigator said, his voice formal but not unfriendly. "Agent Thorne sends her regards. We understand you've uncovered evidence of a significant conspiracy?"

"More than evidence," Callum replied, gesturing toward my containment box. "We have the conspirators themselves, along with four rescued victims and detailed knowledge of their operation."

The investigator's eyebrows rose significantly as he took in the scope of what we were presenting. "This is... extensive. We'll need full statements from everyone involved, magical analysis of the binding sites, coordination with law enforcement in other affected communities."

"Whatever you need," I said firmly. "But I want guarantees that these girls will be protected, that their families will be safe from retaliation."

"You have our word," the investigator assured me. "The High Council takes these matters very seriously."

As the formal questioning began, I found myself thinking about the future with a mixture of apprehension and determination.

The conspiracy we'd uncovered wouldn't be easily dismantled, it had roots that ran deep, connections that stretched far beyond what we'd discovered in Old Hollows.

But for the first time in years, I felt something that might have been hope.

I had found my power, discovered my purpose. The missing girls were safe. And maybe, just maybe, we could build something better from the ashes of what had been destroyed.

The sun was setting over Old Hollows as the investigators finished their initial questioning, the box containing our amphibian conspirators was now safely in official custody.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new battles to fight against the forces of prejudice and hate that still lurked in the shadows of the magical world.

But tonight, we were together. We were safe. And we had struck a significant blow against those who would use fear and ideology to justify atrocity.

It was enough. For now, it was enough.