Back The Midnight Witch
Chapters (35)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Notice
  4. Dedication
  5. Chapter 1: London, 1913
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20: 1917
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23: 1919
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Acknowledgments
  34. Also by Paula Brackston
  35. About the Author

“Yes, my la…” Violet recalls where, and who, she is, and resists the habit of years in addressing me. “I am certain.”

Now that I am in the circle and about to spellcast I should not leave it until the task is complete, so it will fall to Violet to fetch me the things I need. I search my mind, sifting through the hours of reading and years of instruction I underwent with Father’s help.

Demon Calling: the summoning of a creature from the Darkness for use against an adversary or as Proof of Worth. But what will I need? I’m sure I can recall the words, but I must remember every item. To omit something could prove catastrophic.

“Bring me the Witch’s Coffer, a vial of bone dust, and a burning candle.”

Violet does as I ask. I sense the excitement mounting among those watching. However scared they might be, this is a rare chance to witness a piece of magic most of them have never seen before, and most would never themselves dare try.

The coffer is an ancient wooden box with a hinged lid about the size of a hamper. I set it down within the daytime half of the circle. The worn, polished wood feels cool beneath my fingers as I lift the lid. I select the Maygor’s Silver Thread, a soft, glittering rope the thickness of a plait of hair but considerably heavier. It is wound in a coil and is a little under ten paces long. I was allowed to use it in my lessons twice before, but never for Demon Calling. I loop the rope over my arm and close the box. Next, I pick up the candle and move to the center of the space where I tip it, so that hot wax drips onto the floor. I move slowly clockwise, creating a circle about two paces across, which encompasses a small area of both day and night, bisected by the red Rubicon. As I mark out this inner circle I speak the words I dredge from my memory, hearing my father’s voice as I do so, as if he were whispering them into my ear.

“In the name of Lazarus I cast this circle, that it be a gateway to the Darkness. I stand in the sacred space of our coven, safe and strong. None shall come that are not called. None shall go that are not sent.”