“Look, I’m telling you, I don’t think her death was natural. I’m sure that bitch killed her.” Larry’s fierce gaze swung around the room, blasting everyone present with fiery defiance.

Meows, growls, and chitters of protest filled the tense silence that followed Larry’s furious outburst.

“Come on guys, this isn’t right and you know it.” Larry cajoled the gathering. “We need to investigate Mabel’s death. We can’t just let that bi—uh Litha take over as High Priestess without making sure she’s worthy of the role.”

The ornate clock high on the large room’s wall chimed twice, its deep bong echoing throughout the room. Glowing embers in the fireplace reflected white and green in the animal eyes of the gathered Familiars.

A sleek, ebony feline jumped from her chair onto the conference table, her back arching in a sinuous stretch. “Are we going to keep listening to this mangey canine’s ranting for much longer? It’s well after midnight, and I’d like to get back to the hunt. I’ve got better things to do than listen to mad conspiracy theories.”

“He does have a point, though, Cleo.” A midnight black raven perched on the mantle objected, his feathers ruffling in the warm draft from the fire’s rising heat. “Mabel was only just over two hundred years old. She should have had a good couple more centuries left in her, at least. I’ve even known witches who made it past the half millennium mark. Maybe we should investigate things. It’s just a little too convenient that Litha was with Mabel when she died, right after she supposedly appointed Litha as her successor. We only have Litha’s word for that.”

The raven’s inquisitive yellow eyes questioned the cat. “As magical Familiar to the coven member that everyone expected to be the next High Priestess, I’d have thought you’d be eager to discover if there’d been any foul play or shenanigans concerning the succession.”

Cleo snorted in derision and fixed the raven with a narrow-eyed glare. “Listen, Sid, I’ve been Jesse’s Familiar for almost a century. If anyone would know that she’s not suitable to lead this coven, it would be me. She. Is. Not. Worthy.”

Voices rose in protest at Cleo’s statement.

“Now hang on a minute.”

“You can’t believe that.”

“Jesse’s always been good to me ....”

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“She’s the smartest witch we have.”

Larry closed his eyes and heaved a dejected sigh. Not enough voices protested Cleo’s words. Not nearly enough. Most of the Familiars ranged around the room kept their silence and avoided eye contact with each other. And with him. He’d lost, despite support from a few valiant souls. There would be no investigation of Mabel’s untimely death. Litha would be sworn in as the new High Priestess on the next Full Moon, in only a week’s time.

Goddess help them all.

* * *

Jesse reclined under the swaying branches of the willow tree. The gentle murmur of water splashing over the rounded stones along the riverbank soothed her grieving soul. Mabel was dead. Her High Priestess and best friend for almost a century had crossed into the Otherworld, leaving her and the coven confused, saddened and at odds with each other.

When Litha had returned from her walk with Mabel a few days ago, she’d baldly stated that Mabel was dead, her body absorbed back into Mother Earth. Jesse had been saddened and slightly overwhelmed but determined to carry out her new duties as High Priestess for the sake of the coven.

Then Litha had shocked everyone with her next pronouncement. “Mabel told me months ago that she no longer thought Jesse the best fit to run the coven in the event of her death.” Litha had smoothed her fingers down the length of her heavy flaxen braid, a small smile on her lips. “She’s been training me ever since to take over as High Priestess, should anything happen to her.”

Amid shocked gasps, and with accusing eyes pinned on her, Jesse had simply nodded and turned away to mourn her friend and mentor. What did it matter, she’d mused sadly. She’d always wondered at Mabel’s wisdom in appointing her as successor all those years ago. She had never really fit in with the other coven members, who typically kept her at a distance. The social exclusion had made her an introvert. But she’d always faithfully performed her coven duties, despite private doubts about her fitness for a future leadership role. Maybe Mabel had finally seen the error of her ways. But Litha? No, it surely couldn’t be.

A faint breeze whispered through the waving fronds of the willow, causing soft leaves to whisper across her face. Jesse remembered her last conversation with Mabel. They’d sat in the dim light of Mabel’s study, sipping deep red wine from crystal goblets. A heavy frown had wrinkled her friend’s brow.

“What’s the matter, Lady Mabel? You look worried. Is it the wine? Should I get you a fresh glass?”

Mabel had shaken her head and forced a smile. “Nothing’s the matter, Jesse. I’m fine. There’s a situation with one of the coven members that’s concerning me a little. No matter. I’ll handle it.”

“If you tell me about it, maybe I can help.” Jesse had sipped her wine slowly, leaving time for Mabel to decide whether to share her worries.

“I think—no, I suspect ....” Mabel had rubbed her eyes with a sigh. “I would really rather not say too much until I’m sure. But I’ll tell you this. Someone’s had their hand in the coven’s coffers. That, I’m sure of. And there’s, uh, more. I just need to confirm my suspicions before I share them with you, dear. I wouldn’t want to accuse the wrong person.”

The breeze stiffened, blowing the willow’s fronds into a merry dance. Jesse shivered, but not from the chill wind. She should have pressed Mabel for answers. Now, it was too late.