Chapter 1
“Missy Calderone, please step forward. The Council will now assign your Trial location.”
I sprung to my feet from my chair, attempting to quickly smooth down my skirt. Nerves made my hands shake, so I tucked them behind my back after I stepped on the platform and looked toward the set of witches before me.
There were thirteen of them, spaced out behind a curved table. Their table sat upon a raised platform that made me lift my head to view them all, and I knew the choice was purposeful. Anything that made the Council seem bigger and the person calling upon them smaller. And boy, did I feel small right about now.
I swallowed down a lump in my throat, raising my chin to smile at them.
“Miss Calderone, are you ready for your assignment? Once you choose to accept, you will be unable to change your mind without forfeiting your Trial.” The witch who spoke leered down at me, a slight scowl resting on her lips. She sat at the center of the table, indicating that she was the Council member with the most seniority, and thus, the most powerful one.
I allowed myself to look across the line of faces, my throat catching as I took in their various expressions. Most of them stared down blankly at me, but there were a few who smiled lightly-- including the witch with familiar blonde hair. Mom.
I raised my chin even further-- though I doubted it could make me appear any more confident than I felt as I spoke the words I’d heard all the other Trial witches recite.
“Yes, Madam, I am ready for my assignment.”
It was set, then. No going back now. I smiled faintly as the Head of the Council delicately ripped open the envelope before her.
“Miss Calderone, you will be assigned to Salem, Virginia.”
Salem? I felt the breath rush out of me. I knew it wasn’t the Salem where one of the most famous Trials took place, but it still felt like a bad omen to be assigned to a location sharing its name.
If the Head of the Council noticed my apprehension, she didn’t make note of it. After all, she wasn’t supposed to care. She adjusted her black witch hat on her head, nodding over to the witch sitting next to her.
“Now that your location has been decided, we will read you the reminder of the Trial rules, and then you are free to depart for your Trials.” She tossed the empty envelope by her side and prepared to grab the next one as the witch next to her began her speech.
“Missy Calderone, you are now bound to partake in this Trial cycle. Should you break any rules or fail any of your Trials, you forfeit your chance to earn your witch license in this cycle. Trials can only be attempted once every thirteen years, so you will have to wait another thirteen years should you fail this Trial.” The witch reading the rules cleared her throat, flipping over the card she was reading.
“The Council must remind you that, while the Trials will require you to choose a human subject to assist you in the tasks, there should be no fraternizing with the humans beyond what is required of you to complete your Trials.” The witch stopped and looked up at me. “I should not need to remind you what happened in the Trials of 1692.”
And she didn’t have to. It was the set of Trials that haunted every aspiring witch. We learned about it since we were young, and as a witch prepared for their own Trial, they were reminded of it over and over again. The humans knew it as the “Salem Witch Trials.” Us witches knew it as the reason the Trials were reduced to one cycle per year-- with drastic changes. The death of almost-witch Cassandra Wyrd had sent all of Hallows into a panic, stopping the Trials for several years while the Council scrambled to figure out if Trials into the human world would still even be feasible.
Clearly they were because I was about to embark on one such Trial.
The speaking witch cleared her throat and continued.
“Miss Calderone, should your true identity be discovered by a human, the Council expects you to report to us at once. Your Trial will be forfeited, but the consequences will be much worse should you be found to withhold that information from the Council.”
They were the same words that she’d spoken to all the other attempters before me, but there was something about the way she met my eyes before continuing that felt like a threat. Not that I planned on breaking any of their rules-- especially not to “fraternize” with a human. It was my goal to get into the human world, complete my Trial, and then return back to Hallows to start my potions practice. That’s what I’d been planning since I started my time at the Academies, and it was the plan that I knew both my mother and grandmother would want for me.
Besides, according to Dylan, who had completed her Trials even before I met her at the Academies, humans weren’t anything special, so I doubted it’d be difficult to avoid fraternization.
“You will be given an allotment of money to last you throughout your month in the human world, and your lodgings have already been arranged by the Council.” Clearly deciding this information was less important, the speaking witch had switched to a monotonous tone. “You must return for each Trial, occurring each week on Saturdays. You will be given the time for each respective Trial via your crystal ball, and the Council expects you to be punctual. This year, the Trials--”
I fiddled with the seam of my skirt, recognizing that we were nearing the end of the speech.
“--will revolve around the components of life. You will learn more about the challenges week by week, but your first task is to select a human subject and bring them to us.”
I held my breath.
“Choose wisely, and the Council wishes you the best of luck. You are dismissed, Miss Calderone.”
I stole one last glance at Mom. She still wore the gentle smile, but from the years of knowing her, I could tell there was an edge of anxiety underneath it. She caught my eye and mouthed, “Make us proud.”
I gave her a nod and turned from her and the rest of the Council. To my surprise, my hands had stopped shaking.
The human world was far more plain than I expected, even after all the warnings about how dull humans are. In fact, it felt very much like Hallows, but without all of the same charm.
From the moment I’d exited the portals and landed in a small field, the atmosphere struck me as being significantly… magic-less. It made me want to hold onto my broomstick even tighter, just to make sure my magic stayed intact.
I stumbled through the clearing the portal had brought me to, swiveling my head from side to side to check for any signs of life. Luckily for me, it looked like this area was not highly popular with humans.
I’m sure even the most oblivious of humans would have raised alarms at the sight of a purple-haired woman holding both a broomstick and several suitcases. I’d almost decided to dye my hair back to its normal blonde, but I’d been keeping up with the lavender color since puberty, and I wasn’t letting the Trials change that. Besides, I was told that this time of year, it was common for humans to dress in stranger clothes than usual. It was, after all, one of the reasons the Trial cycle took place during October. The Council figured that us witches were much less noticeable when the human world was decorated for Halloween. After all, the Hallows and all of its uniqueness was the inspiration behind their holiday.
I tracked through the woods, sneaking onto the streets of the town after ensuring no one would be looking at me. Apparently my hesitation was unfounded because the sidewalks were almost entirely clear. It was a weekday, so the humans must have all been at work.
I glanced down at the map the Council had provided me with, trying to identify the names on the street signs in front of me.
I’d never been the best at navigating with maps, and the human world was far bigger than Hallows, but I finally managed to find myself at the front of a large, slightly seedy-looking building.
The Serendipity Motel. My assigned lodging for the month.
All things considered, it could have been far worse. I’d heard of Trials where the aspiring witch had to stay in cabins or tents without running water. Having to hide your magic is hard enough already in the human world; I couldn’t imagine trying to function without running water.
I pushed open the door with a grunt-- it was far heavier than it looked.
A lone receptionist looked up from behind the front desk and smiled. He was an older man, with salt and pepper hair and pronounced smile lines.
“Welcome! Are you checking in?” I watched his eyes trail down to the numerous bags hanging off my arms. The straps were starting to dig into my wrists and shoulders, so I was really glad I’d borrowed one of Mom’s magic suitcases instead of insisting on all of my non-nagic choices.
“Yes, um.” I stepped up to his desk, unsure what he needed from me. He smiled kindly.
“I just need the name associated with your reservation, and then I can help get you checked in, ma’am.”
“Oh, it’s Missy. Missy Calderone.”
The man nodded and hummed a bit, messing with something on the black square in front of him. I leaned forward to take a look. These black boxes must be some of the human technology developed in recent years because there was a glowing screen inside of the box.
“Looks like you’re in room 242, on the second floor.” The man pushed his chair back from the box with a screen and stood, holding out a hand. “Allow me to assist you with your bags.”
I squeezed the strap of my bags tighter, not feeling completely comfortable with this stranger taking all of my belongings. Especially not my magic ones.
“I’m sorry, Miss Calderone,” he apologized, pulling his hand back. “I simply wanted to help carry some of your bags.” He smoothly brushed his hand across his vest, covering the fact that he’d even held out his hand at all.
“No, no, I-- Sorry.” I fumbled to pull out a bag I knew contained no magical items and held it towards him. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit nervous.”
The receptionist graciously accepted my bag, slinging it over his shoulder as if it were nothing, likely because he dealt with much heavier bags on the regular.
“No worries, Miss, it happens to us all.” He motioned me toward what I guessed might be the elevators. Luckily, those were a familiar sight in Hallows. They may not have been super necessary for some of the flying creatures, but there were still many non-magic creatures who struggled with stairs. “I know it probably won’t help your nerves much, but this is a nice town. I’ve lived here for close to fifty years now, and I can’t imagine myself leaving.”
I found myself smiling at him as we stepped into the elevator. It seemed he felt the same way about this small town as I did about Hallows, so it couldn’t be that bad, right? “Were you born here?”
The older man let out a hearty laugh, and my cheeks flamed as I realized my mistake. In Hallows, people often changed their appearance, so it was always hard to know their true age. Any elderly-appearing man could be a teenage sorcerer goofing off with his friends, and I’d had that happen to me on at least one occasion when I thought I was helping such a man pick out his groceries.
“You flatter me, Miss. I like you already,” the older man said when he finished laughing, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized my mistake hadn’t raised any suspicion. “But no, I wasn’t born here. My parents moved here when I was a teen.”
The elevator dinged, and the man stopped talking, but the way he shuffled his way out into the hallway made me think he would continue his story. He held the elevator door to ensure it didn’t shut on me.
“I remember being so upset at my parents for uprooting my entire life. They moved me from my friends, my school, and even the old job I had cleaning windows over the summer. I resolved to move back as soon as I was old enough.” He paused, looking down at his hands wistfully. “But clearly, I’m still here.”
“Why?” I asked, following him as he led me down past sets of doors. Most were plain, but a few still had “Do Not Disturb” signs hanging from their doorknobs.
“Well, because I met my wife, of course.” The man’s eyes brightened in a way that made my heart warm. Somehow, his story had helped ease all of my nerves and given way to intrigue. If all humans were like this, maybe I would have no trouble getting through this month. “They say that when you know, you know, and my Suzanne was no different. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I needed to marry that woman. Ah, here we are! Room 242!” He stopped in front of the door, and I felt a little pang of sadness that I wouldn’t be able to hear more about the wife he clearly loved so much. He stuck a small plastic card into my hand. “Here’s your key. If you need anything, just holler. I’m here most of the time. Just ask for Ron.”
The old man-- Ron-- deposited my bag right in front of the door and gave me a wave, disappearing down the hall before I could thank him. Oh well, I’m sure I could thank him for his hospitality another time. I’d be here a whole month, after all, so I was sure I’d see him a lot. The plastic card felt flimsy in my hand, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, but there was a black attachment to the door that seemed to have a slot for it.
After a few frustrating tries where the door blinked with an annoying red light, it finally turned green, and I was able to push the door open and view my home for the next month.
The door opened upon a small room, far smaller than I would have guessed, holding furniture for a sitting room and what appeared to be a human kitchen. I suppose that, although the Council included some of the most powerful creatures in both Hallows and the human realm, they wouldn’t want to raise suspicions. I stepped inside the room, letting the door click shut behind me as I dropped my bags to the floor.
Natural light flooded through the window right next to the sofa, casting rays of light through the thin white curtains. Across from the sofa perched another one of those black boxes with a screen, and I wondered if I’d be able to get it to work and play around with it during my time.
The human kitchen was quite adorable, even though it looked rather plain compared to a witch’s kitchen. There were no cauldrons, no shelves of ingredients, none of the other witchy necessities. I sighed. I guess it’s a good thing that I packed so many of my witching tools; I just hoped there would be enough space.
The kitchen was less than half the size of the sitting room area, and the sitting room was already miniscule. All of the appliances were crammed together, leaving a small amount of space for any extra tools. I frowned, already trying to determine where I could set my brewing pots.
I ventured into the sitting room, finding two closed doors attached to the other rooms. One, a bathroom. The other, a sparsely furnished bedroom.
I moved several of the bags into the bedroom, the ones I knew were full of clothes, blankets, and other personal items I’d want close by me while I slept. Speaking of personal items I’d want close…
I opened the one magic bag I brought with me, staring down into its dark opening. This bag had its uses, but the endless dark pit it created made it frustratingly difficult to find anything you were looking for. I’d have to spend almost an hour dumping everything out of it later, but for now, I only wanted one thing.
I shoved both of my hands into it, leaning forward as my entire arms disappeared inside the bag. It wasn’t safe to put more than half of one’s body into the bag, so I didn’t trust sticking my head inside-- some unspoken witch rule about not being split between two different planes for fear of it disrupting the magic frequency. And, in this case, if the magic was disrupted, all of my belongings inside the bag would cease to exist.
I shoved my hands around what felt like clutter, searching for one thing in particular. It took me a while to find it, but my hands finally struck a soft ball of fuzz, and I pulled it out quickly.
The ball of fuzz came out hissing and clawing his way out of my hands, so I dropped him immediately on the floor next to the bag.
“I know, I know, Poe,” I whispered to him, tentatively reaching a hand out to pet him. “I promised I wouldn’t put you in that bag again, but it was the only way I could take you with me.”
The black cat looked at me in the smug way that only he could and meowed, a whiny, judgmental meow. I turned away. “Fine, suit yourself. It’s not like I’m the only one who has the opposable thumbs to feed you or anything.”
Another meow, this time with an edge of disapproval.
I wasn’t sure whether or not it would be worth it to bring Poe along during my month in the human world, but he’d been my life force for almost four years now. Mom and Dad had shown up at my bedroom door the day before I left for the Academies, holding the box that I soon found out held the blackest cat I’d ever seen. And now, here I was, completing the final step to getting my witch license.
I busied myself emptying and sorting through some of my other bags. As I unpacked, things slowly began to feel more real. There was something about seeing all of my stuff, the stuff that should be either in my dormitory at the Academies or my childhood bedroom, splayed out in an unfamiliar room that brought back my nerves.
As if he could sense it, Poe plodded over to me and bumped his head against my feet, demanding pets. I leaned down, stroking my hand across his silky fur as I surveyed my room one final time.
It may be unfamiliar, but I’d trained at the Academies for four years, and I’d been surrounded by very powerful witches my entire life. The Trials may be the ultimate test of a witch’s ability, but Mom had been preparing me for this since I first came into my magic.
“We got this, Poe,” I murmured to him, bending down to ruffle his ears. He cocked his head to one side, his tail flicking the air behind him. “Don’t we?”
He blinked once. Then, he meowed, and I hoped it was a “Yes.”
