Page 83 of Elmwood Inclusive Magic Academy
“I practice dark magic. For many hundreds of years before you were born, I belonged to an ancient coven of witches. A coven that worshiped a powerful demon.”
“And what…what does that have to do with me?”
But staring at her eyes, I know.
I know what it has to do with me.
Rae grips my hand tightly. On my other side, Hallie gasps in realization.
“Maggie,” says Astrid. “Your father is Lucifer. Your father is the Devil.”
TEASER FOR DEMONS AND DEITIES
Dahlia Watson waves a hand, collecting the ring of salt on the dungeon cell floor neatly into a jar.
“This is why I never stay over the winter break,” the Magical History professor hums, tossing her long braids over her shoulder. “A second attack on the academy, only one semester into its reopening? Not a great track record so far, Amrita.”
A barn owl pulls a key from the lock of one of the iron shackles on the ground, and deposits it in the hand of Amrita Vyas, who stands at the doorway to the cell. The vampire-witch tucks the key safely into the pocket of her dark purple robes with a pat.
“Well, I appreciate you taking the time away from your coven to help with the clean up, Dahlia,” she says, as they exit from the cell.
Dahlia looks at Amrita with slightly narrowed eyes. She knows the Principal well and suspects that there’s more to it than that.
“Why didn’t you ask one of the students for help? Surely there are others you could have delegated this to,” Dahlia asks as they walk. She surveys the chained skeletons on the wall warily and notices that they become more frequent as they delve deeper into the chilly stone passageways.
Amrita decides to let the castle answer the question. They come upon another room, but this one isn’t a cell. It’s a large, stone room, with surprisingly high ceilings. Dahlia thinks it’s strange to have such a room in the dungeon, and wonders what it could be for. Her curiosity peaks as they step through the double wooden doors. The spacious room is filled to the brimwith dark magical paraphernalia, its large bookshelves filled with dusty tomes of evil magic, jars of dried roots, and real skulls and bones. A large altar covered in red, half-burned candles is up against the south wall and a black-painted mirror is positioned on the opposite one. Odder still, a large bathtub sits in the center of the room, its claw-feet resting atop a pentagram of chalk.
Dahlia turns to the vampire-witch, who is shuffling through the jars and books upon the shelves as though she’s seen this all before.
“I needed someone I can trust,” Amrita says, solemnly. “This castle has many secrets. Tudor Thornblade and Leander Arundel occupied it for several days. I want to ensure that they haven’t…disrupted anything.”
“Or…discovered something?” Dahlia asks, looking around in wonder.What could Orson Elmwood possibly have needed this room for?
The candles, the south-facing altar, the dark scrying mirror…it clicks in Dahlia’s mind.
“Ah,” she sighs aloud. “Of course. The Wicked Wars.”
“The battle between the good and evil witches,” Amrita nods.
Dahlia raises an eyebrow. “There are rumours that they used Elmwood castle as their base for some time. The coven ofLucifer’sbase. But nobody ever knew why, or what happened to end the feud.”
“The rumours are true.”
Dahlia runs a finger along the edge of the bathtub tentatively. Its smooth veneer glistens with magical intentions. The faint smell of fragrant oil hangs provocatively in the air. As a Magical History professor, she can’t help but be intrigued.
“Amrita,” she breathes. “How did you know about this?”
The vampire-witch catches a glimpse of something fleeting in the ornate mirror, and gazes into its swirling, black abyss. Her lips curl into a grin.
“I know because I was there.”