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Winifred, the leader of the Atlantic Key, is a meta-magic witch, able to manipulate the very fabric of magic itself. Of all the sanctioned crafts allowed by our coven, meta-magic is by far the most dangerous, especially for the witch who practices it. In recent years, the strain has started to show in Winifred.
Winifred creates all the spell books for the women of the Atlantic Key. The books are infused with her meta-magic, adapting to the needs of the witch they belong to. They are our diaries, reference books, and records of our magical practice.
While every coven across the country has its eccentricities, only the Pacific Gate refuses to restrict even the most abhorrent forms of magic. Magic that corrupts the practitioner, requires dangerous amounts of intention or sacrifice—even magics whose only uses are pure evil—are allowed. The Pacific Gate is anathema to the Atlantic Key.
several days are missing from my mother’s diary section.
“You must never touch the dead, Hecate,” she had demanded. It was a lesson she’d drilled into me many times before. “It could interfere with your magic.”
I would be nervous if my craft was about to be taken away from me by a power-hungry meta-magic witch.”
“That’s not the role of a hedge witch,” Matthew says incredulously. I look at him blankly.
“Hedge craft, first and foremost, is the balance between life and death energies. A hedge witch is guardian to the living and the dead alike.”
“But not the entire picture of your craft. Did you ever learn Binding or Shadow Walking? Siphoning? Guiding?” “No,” I say firmly, not understanding any of the words he used. “That sounds like shadow magic. Which is forbidden.” “Not to a hedge witch!” he implores. “Good God! You have been left completely unprepared.”
“But fixing that wasn’t an act of creation. The pieces were already there. One of the first lessons of shadow magic is learning to reverse destruction.”
“Lesson number two of shadow magic. There’s power in placing the final piece.”
referring to his shadow magic as a simple, practical craft.
it is an especially insulting craft to the Atlantic Key, where reverence and respect of our ancestors’ spirits is paramount.
“You don’t ask permission.” He raises his eyebrows. “That’s quite the assumption. And that’s quite the standard to have when, if I recall correctly, your own mother rarely asked permission before enforcing her will over her own guests.”
All the marriages she helped foster, all the children born nine months after she prepared a fertility meal, all the opinions swayed. She really had blanketed the entire village of Ipswich in a veil of her own control. But it was always for good. To help and heal and protect.
What the fuuuuuck
Matthew’s eyes turn sympathetic. He is still holding my hand, but no longer in such a way as to inspect it. No, now my palm rests on his, our fingers nearly intertwined.
It’s a miracle Winifred has lived as long as she has. The Atlantic Key meta-magic witch before her didn’t make it to fifty. In other covens, they are lucky to see thirty-five.
Somethin's fishy here
She can drain a witch or hexan’s magic within minutes, excommunicating them, leaving them unable to access intention.
Hm. Don't like that!
I smile as I realize what he has done. I’m much calmer now that all the tasks are laid out in an orderly fashion.
Omg he's her to-do list cuuute
The wizard knows it is only a matter of time before Death comes for the local village. He finds a medicine woman who knows the forest as well as he does. They believe their combined powers might be enough to defend their lands. Binding themselves together, they intertwine their magic and forge a talisman meant to beat back the borders of Death. A key that locks it away. They fight bravely, but the wizard is overwhelmed by necrotic energy. Realizing all will be lost if she doesn’t contain the onslaught of Death, the medicine woman throws up a barrier of fog and dreams.”
This is about her parents. Blood Wizard and a Medicine Witch.
“I can never be certain with the Pacific Gate; you’re so shrouded in secrecy. I half thought the festivals you’d attend would include ritualistic animal sacrifices and dark dealings among sorcerers.”
Fearmongering throughout the generations. Propoganda!
“What if you were instinctually adapting your training, which allowed you to ground even among dead plants? You might have been doing shadow magic.”
“You’re the hedge witch. It’s what you’re meant to do.”
THEE Hedge Witch, Singular, and she doesn't even know what her powers are!
“Some witches are never happy with what they have. Luckily for you, Sweet Pea, that’s never been a flaw of yours.” I can tell she is trying to compliment me, but the words burn against my chest. Content Hecate. Quiet Hecate. Stagnant Hecate—making endless to-do lists in her cottage at the edge of the woods.
Don't you ever just want to go ape shit???
She’s lying to me.
Such a direct command from an elder would be impossible for an Atlantic Key witch to ignore. But Matthew stares at her, unbothered. “Are you capable of behaving yourself?”
HOOOOOTTTTT
“Blood curses don’t go away once they leave their target’s body. They fester whether or not they are infecting someone. And they will always return to finish the job if given the opportunity. I have to keep it tethered to me until I can find a way to destroy it.”
Trying to make a hedge witch not dream? She’s a fool.”
“Well, don’t blame yourself either,” I say, offended and, despite myself, slightly amused. “You’re not my guardian.” His eyes flash up to mine with such surprising sorrow that I immediately stop laughing. “Aren’t I, though?” he asks softly, more to himself than to me.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Matthew’s whole arm shimmers in the candlelight, his copper scar radiating like frenetic lightning from his shoulder down to his wrist.
My mother violated all our coven’s traditions to name me a hedge witch and then spent my entire life hiding half my magic from me? What was the purpose of it all?
“A hedge witch can be his counterpart on the living side of the veil, just as that first medicine woman was,”
“There are some notes in the oldest ancestral journals that suggest the Atlantic Key might be the descendants of the medicine woman from the folktale. I’m sure you’re a tantalizing prize for him. Original bloodline and a practitioner of hedge craft.”
if a meta-magic witch is out of your reach, use water from the River Styx to wash away blood or shadow magic.”
For affectation, page twenty-eight. For accretion, page sixty-three. For compulsion, page one hundred and seven.
To be fair this is just the magic Sybil was already practicing, just more Goth
It is only because of Winifred that I have this new chance. I promised her I would not waste this opportunity. And I won’t. For the sake of William. For the sake of the little girl growing inside me. For the sake of our family.
Hearth magic is one of the most ancient crafts but also one of the tamest, based on protection and the creation of sacred home spaces.
After all, if Miranda believes she can just waltz into people’s homes and start singing her Siren song, then clearly she can do anything, right?
In the two hours since I told Celeste and Miranda everything that has happened to me this past week, my oldest sister has entered a mode of emergency triage that I’ve never seen from her.
He had said there were things he couldn’t physically tell me. Is that what he had meant? That speaking
He got Destiel'd omg
“Oh,” I breathe. “You’ve entered into a bargain with him too, haven’t you?” The
“What did he give you? What did you trade?”
She shouldnt have lived this long. Any magic she siphons is probablg going straight to TKB
“I begged the King Below to extend my life, to shield me from death. In return, I gave him the unused magic I took from witches during their Containment. It gave him a little strength. Kept him going. Without me, he would have faded decades ago.”
Who called it? I did
