The feast of Yulemass is quickly upon us. The chambers beneath Number One Fitzroy Square are abuzz with activity and expectation. As witches gather to celebrate, we assemble in the antechamber. The celebration of Yulemass traditionally begins with a sociable mingling. Some of the minor witches have set out the refreshments which are customarily simple: cheeses, rustic bread, spicy pickles, and fruit. There is also sufficient red wine intended to relax, but not to inebriate. Tonight is the Eve of Midwinter, an occasion where the coven meets to reinforce the bonds of brother- and sisterhood, and later to call a spirit as a group and to question the soul that presents itself on all manner of subjects. This is the year’s longest night, when the hours of darkness are greater than those of daylight, and those who have crossed the Rubicon are most active and eager to make contact. All coven members who are able attend, without masks, to celebrate the continuation of the Lazarus Coven, the successful protection of the Great Secret, and the privilege and wonder of being able to commune with the dead. It is a joyous event, albeit one that has, in the past, resulted in momentous portents. For the midwinter Yulemass is very much under the control of the spirits, not of the necromancers, and in this it is a singular and important event in the witches’ calendar. Mindful of this Druscilla and I have gone to some trouble to build up a layer of protective magic around the Great Chamber. We do not want the Dark Spirit of Edmund Willoughby joining us tonight, under any circumstances.

After I took Bram to the cemetery, after Father refused to help us, Bram and I sat up in his rooms until dawn. His unswerving support, the calm way in which he accepted my father’s appearance at the graveside, the way he stood up to my father, all have endeared him to me even further. For hour upon hour he asked me questions and I did my best to answer them. Poor darling, his head must have been filled with so many disturbing and incredible things by the time the morning light alerted us to the beginning of a new day. But, in order to keep him safe, he must know. He must come to understand as much as possible about the coven. About what it is we do. About what I am. My heart still constricts when I recall Father’s disappointment in me, his anger at what I have done. All my life I have sought to please him, and now I have broken his heart. I must prove to him that Bram is worthy of my trust. And the first part of that proof will be my ability to face the Dark Spirit. I will keep Bram safe. I will protect the Elixir from the Sentinels, and whomever they send. Perhaps then my father will forgive me.