Chapter 01
“It’s funny how the thing you fear the most is the thing that sets you free.”
Jade Usher looked up from her book to the TV and the unknown film that her husband, Matt, was watching that had held no interest for her until that line. What a curious thing to say, she thought to herself. But before she could ponder the line any further and pick out its context from the rest of the scene, the picture suddenly turned red, and a white banner started to scroll across the screen.
“We interrupt this Film4 presentation to bring you a breaking news report live from New York.”
The picture changed again to reveal a smartly dressed reporter standing in front of what appeared to be a burned-out warehouse.
“The scene here at East 14th Street and Avenue D more closely resembles a war zone than an industrial city neighbourhood. Buildings are in ruin, many with fires still smouldering under the rubble for three blocks in every direction; ground zero of a catastrophic event that people of New York are still struggling to comprehend.
“Dozens of eyewitness reports all describe a similar string of events… a ‘battle’ of epic proportions between five unidentified individuals. The mind-boggling part of every account is that apparently no weapons were used! Yet the devastation surrounding me on this once quiet industrial street is absolute.
“One man I spoke to claims he saw what could only be described as fireballs erupting from the hands of one of the assailants. Another woman claims to have witnessed a lightning bolt coming down from a clear blue sky, seemingly at the command of another of the assailants. An NYPD officer who was first on the scene even reported seeing a car being picked up and hurled across the street by some unseen force.
“‘It was like something out of a sci-fi movie,’ Sergeant Lee Mathews recalled. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it, and even though I’m unable to get the image out of my head, I cannot believe what I saw.’
“Throughout my ten-year career as a reporter, covering natural disasters and wars across three continents, I have never seen anything like this in my life. Normally a news channel of CNN’s standing would scoff at reports of what could only be described as ‘magic’, but with this many credible eyewitness accounts to back up such outrageous claims… who’s to say what is real anymore?
“Dan Westinghouse reporting.”
The screen faded to back to black before returning to the unknown film as if nothing untoward had happened. But a finger of dread slowly uncurled deep in Jade’s stomach. She glanced over at her husband. His eyes had already focused back on the film, but a slight edge now clouded his gaze.
She felt the need to talk about what they had just heard, but something held her tongue. It had been a very long time, certainly since they had married, that she had felt hesitant to share anything with him. They shared everything; the good the bad, and the ugly, and their lively debates about politics or philosophy were the highlight of many rainy evenings—but this felt different.
Troubled, she tried to force her attention back to her book. She couldn’t say why, but her skin prickled like something inside her had woken up.
***
There was a buzz amongst the reporters milling outside the front steps of The Savoy Hotel. The press release that went out to all major news networks across the world inviting reporters to the press conference about to take place had hinted that vital information would be shared regarding the bizarre events that took place in New York forty-eight hours ago. The more seasoned of the reporters in the crowd could feel something big was about to happen and everyone wanted a front-row seat to witness history.
A few minutes past twelve, a man approached the cluster of microphones that had been crammed onto the small lectern at the top of the steps. He was smartly dressed in a well-tailored and clearly expensive three-piece suit of charcoal grey pinstripes. His crisp white shirt was immaculate, his tie a perfect Windsor. Even though no one in the crowd recognised the man about to address them, the subtle power and authority that emanated from his presence demanded attention and the crowd quickly fell utterly silent.
“My name is Gideon Oswald”, the man began, “and I am the head of an organisation called the Festori. I greatly apologise for how I must announce this news; I had planned for this statement to be much more considered and better prepared. However, the events in New York have forced my hand much sooner than anticipated.
“This will come as a great shock to you all, but the world as you know it is changing far more and much faster than anyone could imagine possible.” Gideon paused momentarily and took a deep breath before continuing. “Witches and the magic that they can wield are very real.”
The crowd erupted into a frenzy of conflicting voices; some shouting a deluge of questions, others laughing at the absurdity of the statement, others still scoffing in disbelief and distrust. But Gideon held his ground and patiently waited for the worst of the clamouring to subside before raising his hand for quiet.
“What happened in New York was the result of an operation by four of my agents to prevent a rogue witch from attacking, and potentially destroying, the UN building. Thankfully, the operation was successful in that the witch in question was detained, however, the manner in which that apprehension took place was unfortunately excessive and needlessly destructive.
“I am deeply grateful that no innocent bystanders were injured. I can only offer my deepest apologies and regret for the devastating turn the operation took whilst apprehending the offender. Members of my order are on hand in New York to offer assistance in the clean-up efforts should the mayor or governor want it.”
Gideon glanced around the assembled reporters, gauging their reaction and readiness to hear more. He could sense immense scepticism rolling over the crowd, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity, so he continued.
“I know you must be overwhelmed with questions, but I shall attempt to summarise what I can in the short time available to me today. The emergence of true witches appears to have started shortly after the Industrial Revolution. We have yet to define a single trigger point for the first occurrence, but it appears that we are the result of a natural, albeit accelerated, leap in the evolutional course of humans; a branch species if you will. We formed the Festori, or Witch Council, to help those with the witch gene through their transition and to protect ourselves until the world was ready to learn of our existence.
He took another calming breath. That is the worse of what I have to share out of the way, he thought,and they’ve not stoned me to death… yet. He pushed that thought far from his mind and ploughed on.
“As I said, the events in New York have forced our hand, and for that, I am profoundly sorry. I assure you that as a race, we mean humans no harm. We only seek to understand our new place in this world and explore what has brought about our sudden existence.”
Gideon clenched his jaw subtly, knowing that if the press conference were to go wrong at any point, this was the moment it would happen. “I have time for one or two short questions.”
And like a breaking tsunami, every hand in the audience shot up in unison accompanied by a great deal of pushing and shoving from the reporters vying to be the first chosen.
Gideon adjusted his tie uncomfortably. He had hoped that the crowd would be too stunned to put forward any coherent questions allowing him to beat a hasty retreat, but he should have known a group of the world's most tenacious reporters would prove him wrong.
“Sue Everink, from the BBC. I believe you have a question about the assailant?” Gideon said in his clear ringing voice as he pointed at a woman three rows back in a blue silk blouse and black trousers; pulling her name, the network where she worked, and the jist of her question easily from her mind.
Both the woman and the crowd of other reporters paused momentarily in shock at this stranger knowing not only her name but her thoughts as well. Some furtive looks were exchanged between colleagues and a palpable tension rippled through the crowd as they put two and two together and silently acknowledged they had all just potentially witnessed magic first-hand.
Sue Everink recovered her composure enough to ask her question, her voice cracking slightly on the first word. “You mentioned that the, um, witch responsible for the attack yesterday has been apprehended. What can you tell us of her?”
“Him,” Gideon corrected. “Contrary to common folklore, the term witch applies to both female and male. He has been taken to a private facility owned by the Festori where he will be detained pending an internal investigation. I assure you he will not be able to escape. Next question.”
This time fewer hands were raised and there was a nervousness about the gesture from those brave enough. Gideon sighed to himself. He of course anticipated a certain amount of fear from the general population at this revelation, but he had hoped it wouldn’t manifest so quickly and certainly not in response to his own presence. To prevent any further discomfort for those in attendance, he decided to play dumb. “You, in the blue shirt and red tie.” Gideon pointed at a man near the back who was the first to single himself out the second time. “What is your question?”
“Dan Westinghouse, sir, from CNN.”
“Ah yes,” Gideon replied, “you broke the original story.”
“Ummm, yes,” Dan replied in a small voice, “Ummm, my question is how common is it for… err… your kind… to have as much power as we witnessed the other day? Do we need to be worried?”
And there it is, Gideon thought, the million-pound question. “I wish I had an answer for you, Mr. Westinghouse,” he replied aloud, “I really do. But the truth is that we as a species are only just learning what this new situation means for us. Of the witches that we know about, Damien Thorne is the most powerful we’ve encountered… so far. But we are doing everything in our power to prevent a repeat of the incident in New York.”
He gathered his notes from the lectern in front of him and then looked back up at the crowd.
“I’m afraid that is all I have time to divulge today. My office will issue an official report of the incident in New York in the coming days along with a more detailed explanation of what I have just shared with you.
“I have one last thing to say before I must leave.” Gideon suddenly shifted his focus from addressing the crowd to addressing the cameras broadcasting the press conference live to the world, his hazel eyes appearing to blaze with intensity. “If you have been plagued by unexplained experiences throughout your life, strange occurrences that appear not to make any rational sense… know that you are not alone. Seek us out and we will show you the way.”
And with that Gideon turned his back on the stunned crowd and quickly entered the foyer of the hotel, closing the door on the sudden cacophony of the world changing forever behind him.
Chapter 02
Celeste Winter stood patiently by the bank of elevators on the top floor of Festori headquarters in London. She could sense the rapidly ascending approach of her mentor and master as the numbers above the lift doors clicked higher.
As she watched the numbers click higher, she attempted to wrangle her emotions in check. Normally cool and collected to the point of coming across cold, Celeste was not accustomed to her emotions being such a mess, but as she waited Dread, shame and defensive resolve all fought a pitched battle for dominance of her attention.
She had watched the press conference, both on TV and through her mind’s eye, as she followed Gideon’s thoughts since he departed for The Savoy some two hours ago. She knew he was not thrilled with the situation, and there was no denying that some of the blame rested on her shoulders; though no one would openly say as much.
A pleasant yet slightly piercing ‘ding’ announced the arrival of the elevator, and then the polished brass doors slid silently open to reveal Gideon in all his commanding presence. He was already striding out of the lift before the doors had fully completed their motion, and Celeste quickly fell into step in her customary place; on his right hand, one pace behind.
“I thought that went very well, Gideon,” she ventured as they briskly walked the length of the empty hallway leading to the private chambers of the head of the Festori; the one they called Domini. The cream-coloured walls that flowed past were mostly bare except for the occasional oil painting depicting one of the more notable Domini’s from the past.
“As well as could be expected, I suppose,” Gideon replied, sounding tired, “but it was foolish to flaunt my power so carelessly.”
Without needing any clarification, Celeste knew he was referring to answering that reporter's question before she had even asked it. They all needed to be more careful now that the mundane world had been made aware of their existence.
“But still, at least they didn’t stone me to death,” Gideon continued with a wry smile, clearly attempting to lighten his mood.
Celeste chuckled once to herself. It was a running joke within the Festori walls of late to harken their current situation to that of the witch trials of Salem, though everyone with even an ounce of witch blood mourned the butchering of so many innocents in their name.
The pale walls gave way to dark, polished mahogany and antique bronze as, without slowing his pace, Gideon raised his hand before the imposing double doors of his chambers, which opened silently at his command. The room inside was dim, lit only by a few table lamps. Every wall appeared to be taken over by bookcases filled with orderly row after row of books, and shelves housing curious artefacts from all corners of the world, some thrumming with their own power.
Gideon stopped in front of the pair of matching wingback chairs in well-worn dark chocolate leather, removed his jacket and folded it carefully in on itself and tossing it over the back of one of the chairs before loosening his tie and sinking into the chair. He silently indicated that Celeste should settle herself into the opposite chair, which she did wordlessly with a slight nod of appreciation.
“I have of course read your report on what happened in New York, but I want to hear it directly from you,” he said.
Celeste took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm her nerves. She had replayed the incident over and over in her mind during the past two days, trying to see any way that the operation could have been saved, and their closely guarded secret remain exactly that… a secret. But she had not seen any other option, so she decided to tell it as it happened. No embellishments, no attempting to save face… not like she could hide the truth from the powerful witch that sat across from her.
“I have no explanation for why the operation went so wrong, Domini,” she began. “We received an anonymous report that a powerful witch was planning to attack the UN building. Neither I, nor any of the scryers, heard or felt anything amiss in the currents, but the source seemed credible and genuinely scared, so I took three members of my own coven with me to investigate.
“When we reached New York, I could feel a powerful hatred in the currents and followed it to an industrial neighbourhood on the river just south of the UN complex. That was when we were attacked. No warning, no discussion, not even any subterfuge… he just strolled out of one of the warehouses and attacked. No spells either, he was a Power Borne.”
Celeste paused briefly, trying not to get drawn back into the past, but it was no use—the memory was still too raw. Once again, she recalled the shouts of her coven mates, the crackle of magic in the air, feeling the desperation mount. The worst was the look in his eyes when he attacked; cold, calculated, and cruel. She knew in her heart that he would have stopped at nothing to get what he wanted.
The sound of Gideon politely clearing his throat drew her instantly back to the present, picking up where she had left off.
“We were barely able to contain him, and it took a lot of power to do so. I wish it hadn’t been so messy, but we had no choice. I have no doubt in my mind that if he got away from us, he would have levelled the UN building and probably everything within a three-block radius as well, without hesitation or remorse. Though, to be honest, I’m not entirely convinced that the target was the UN Building. It might have been bait… or a decoy.” Celeste kept her eyes firmly fixed on the deep pile of the crimson rug beneath her feet as she fell silent, partly wondering if this was a debriefing or an interrogation.
