Page 17 of Calling Quarters
“It's almost time to begin,” Callista shrieked excitedly at Blaire. She waved her hands and walked toward the gazebo, encouraging us to follow.
“Begin what?” I whispered quietly while we hurried behind Callista.
“Our Mabon opening ritual," Blaire threw over her shoulder.
I didn't know what a ritual for a group of people who openly identified as witches entailed. Aunt Ash had her own small rites and rituals she practiced around the house on certain holidays, but I mostly ignored them.
I couldn't even remember if there was one that she'd practice specifically around this time of year, and that realization had my mood taking a dive as we weaved through the crowd. Maybe she held on close to her family's traditions despite being forced away from them by me. Did she suffer from loneliness without her chosen community surrounding her, instead stuck with some moody teenager she was burdened with?
Why didn't I ever bother paying more attention to her?
Those were the guilty thoughts that carried me to the open field I just left Julia and her friends in. My eyes searched the growing crowd for Remy's haunted glare and fell short. I wasn't sure why I'd expected him to be here, knowing how isolated the Quarters preferred to be from everyone else, though I had spotted them sitting together in town earlier.
They were dangerous. I knew that. And they were especially dangerous to me if my suspicions were correct and I was a Counter. But there was something inside of them that called to me. Something completely impossible to ignore—a feeling deep in my bones.
It could have been the connection we shared. That abstract thing I might have possessed inside of me that posed a threat to their very being. Whatever it was, it had me ignoring every warning I’d received from the people of this town—including the one in the pit of my stomach—and drew me closer to them. It had me searching crowds for their ethereal faces and hoping they were doing the same for me.
Or at least hoping Remy was.
But he wasn’t. None of them were. They probably weren’t even bothering with the silly festival, instead focusing on whatever it was Quarters spent their time doing. I still wasn’t sure. The only thing anyone told me about them is that they were off-limits, and they protected Watchtower from harm.
What did that entail? I had no idea.
Callista stopped in the back of a gathered crowd where a larger bonfire pit sat before us with flames that reached so high, I swore they licked the sky. She and Blaire joined hands as a man I hadn’t seen before began talking from the opposite side of the fire on a small wooden platform. Others joined us from behind, but everyone stayed quiet. Whoever this man was, I could tell they valued and respected him.
“I’ll keep this short, so we can all get back to our ales and celebration.” He smiled at his audience teasingly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Mabon is a very special time for us. We get to reflect on the season’s blessings and enjoy the fruits of our labor. Ofyourlabor. None of it would be possible without the hard work and sweat that was poured into this season by the wonderful people of this town and coven. So, without further ado, let's begin our prayer for blessings of love and abundance.”
Friends and neighbors joined hands and bowed their heads as the more rumble of their collective voices repeated the same prayer as the man on the platform. I took in the scene before me, overcome by their sense of harmony and togetherness. The comforting feeling I got when I first drove down the winding road leading into Beacon Grove had returned, filling my heart with a sense that I could only describe as beinghome. I never imagined witches could be so peaceful and connected with one another.
The praying went on for a few more minutes before I realized the sky darkened overhead as gray clouds chased away the sun rays and snuffed them out. I looked over at Blaire and Callista, who had both stopped their chanting and stared ahead at the chaos that was forming above us in complete terror.
“Something is wrong,” Callista muttered quietly.
She tugged at Blaire's wrist and waved her hand at me to follow. No one seemed to notice when we headed toward an alley between the pharmacy and art gallery, taking a quick right when we made it behind the buildings. Once again, the streets I'd grown familiar with in the past few weeks now looked completely foreign to me, though Blaire and Callista had no issues finding their way.
The rest of the people at the festival had finally caught on and stopped talking. In the distance, I could hear chaos starting to ensue as fear took over.
“She warned us,” Blaire breathed out just as the hotel came into view. I could've sworn we were still too near to town to see it.
Tabitha's head popped out of the office entrance. She looked completely calm, her body relaxed as she watched the three of us sprint toward her.
“We have to stop them,” she called out to Callista, who only nodded her response.
Once we reached the porch, she didn't bother waiting for Tabitha to lead her through the door. She brushed past her mother in a huff with me and Blaire on her heels. A loud bang echoed through the streets and more screaming followed behind it.
Tabitha slammed the door shut and locked it, ushering us into her living room. I jumped at the noise as my breath caught in my throat.
This was too much. The chanting, the spells, the magic. None of this seemed real. The witchcraft Aunt Asher practiced was always just a silly hobby I thought she'd wasted her time on. I never believed it to be real.
But it was.
It wastooreal.
This was what she was trying to prepare me for, and I was too dense to listen.
“What happened, Grammy? Where are the Quarters?” Blaire's shaking voice gave me a strange sense of comfort. It let me know I wasn't alone in my downward spiral. At least she was a little panicked, too.