“Now what to do with you,” Elizabeth says, even when she’s being villainous, she doesn’t smile.

“I need my magic, I need protection right now,” I plead.

“You should have thought of that before you dismissed the council’s rules,” Elizabeth says.

“You don’t understand. Someone is coming after me. If I don’t have my magic, I have nothing.”

“Not our problem. Magic has a price. Did you think you could use magic to solve all of your problems and there would be no consequences? You knew the rules, you have been warned. If we go lenient with you, who knows what other witches might do?”

“It’s been far too long since we’ve had a sentencing, sisters,” Elizabeth says.

“I won’t let you take my magic,” I say. My shackles around my wrists are tight. Too tight. I go to cast a spell and nothing works.

“Ah, quite the tool, those shackles. Like I said, demons can be very useful indeed,” Hadiza says. I look at Nimue. She won’t rescue me, even if she thinks the punishment is too harsh.

The three witches all stand out of their chairs at an eerily similar pace before they descend on me. Each of them placing a hand on my shoulder.

“I think a month is fair,” Nimue finally says.

“So it shall be, sister,” Elizabeth says.

The magic hits me harshly, and I feel like I’m having a heart attack. Like all of my magic is being crumpled up into a paper ball and thrown hard against my chest. Like it’s locked inside of my body, feral and begging to get out with no escape.

“Now your magic will feel like Clover did,” Hadiza says. “August, be a dear and drop her off.”

“Sure thing,” he says. With the chains still shackled to my wrists, he portals me to the entrance of my driveway.

“Nothing personal,” he says as he unlocks my shackles. I tenderly rub my wrists. I feel so defeated and plain. It’s painful to have your magic dormant inside of your own body. What kind of spell can even do that?

With my pride and hopes in tatters, I walk the long drive, the gravel crunching under my feet. When I get to my yellow door, I touch my hand against the wood. I can still feel my wards. At least I will be safe here. I guess I will need to hide out here until further notice. If I didn’t have the safety of that, I don’t know what I would do.

“Blair, no,” I hear Stevie say, expecting her to be upset about the hearing. But that’s not what happens.

I watch as Clover holds a very similar knife, the one that I saw Paige hold against Stevie’s throat at the sex club.

“Clover?”

“Guess again,” she says.

I gulp. “Mara?”