We climbed into Cordelia's old car. She buckled her seatbelt with practiced ease, then murmured something under her breath—a quick incantation I couldn't quite catch. Before I could ask what she said, the world around us shimmered, bent, and then—shifted.
In the blink of an eye, we were somewhere entirely new.
I blinked, disoriented. The street we were driving down now felt... off. The air shimmered with heat, and the sky had a strange golden hue. Even the buildings seemed to hum faintly, as if alive with energy. Everything felt oddly charged—warmer, heavier, unfamiliar.
"Turn on the AC," Cordelia muttered, fiddling with the vents. "We're in Covenry. It's a haven for witches."
Covenry. The name alone sent a chill down my spine, despite the heat. No wonder the air felt different—thicker, almost electric. The heat wasn't just from the sun; it was the sheer number of witches concentrated in one place. Magic lingered in the atmosphere like steam rising from pavement.
"It's only unbearable in the summer," Cordelia added, casually navigating the strange streets like she'd done it a hundred times before. "Spring and fall are beautiful. Even winter has its charm. But summer? It's like walking through a spellfire."
I said nothing, too busy staring out the window, wide-eyed. The world beyond the glass was unlike anything I'd imagined. It was nothing like the illustrations in my mother's old storybooks, where witches wore pointy hats and rode brooms under moonlight. No, this was real—and it buzzed with life, with danger, with wonder.
It was strange. It was wild.
And I loved it.
"We need to get to the Hall," Cordelia said, her voice tight with urgency. "Alice will know what to do. She's the High Witch of this region."
I nodded as if I understood, as if I was following every word—but in truth, nothing was sinking in. My mind was a blur of spells, strangers, and a world I hadn't even known existed until an hour ago.
The drive stretched on, and as the sky began to darken, the car slowed in front of a grand building that looked like something between a city hall and a cathedral. Stone pillars lined the entrance, and glowing symbols shimmered faintly along the archway. It radiated quiet power.
The moment we stepped inside, everything changed.
Cordelia walked with purpose, her posture straight, regal. People turned at the sound of her footsteps. They bowed their heads. Some murmured her name with reverence. I watched them with wide eyes, stunned. I had never seen her like this—respected, even revered. It hit me then that there was a side of her I didn't know at all.
Then, a man stepped into view.
Tall, with a calm confidence in his stride and a wand strapped to his hip, he moved toward us. I blinked in surprise. A man? I hadn't even known we had wizards. I always thought our kind was made up of women—witches. That's what I'd always been told.
"Felix," Cordelia said warmly, embracing him with one arm and giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "You made it back. Good work."
"It was rough," he replied, his tone weary but proud. "But it's good to be home."
His eyes landed on me. He gave a polite nod. I returned it with a shy smile, still trying to grasp what I was witnessing.
"That's Felix," Cordelia said as we continued through the hall. "One of the few wizards left."
I looked back at him, startled. "Few?"
She nodded, her expression darkening. "Most were hunted down... by the White Witches. The one you saw in our home—that was one of them. They've been trying to wipe out our kind, and the male-born were the first to fall."
She led me toward a massive oak door, tall as a movie theatre screen, carved with runes and lined with iron that shimmered faintly with enchantment.
"How many wizards are left?" I asked, the questions tumbling out. "Thousands? Hundreds? And why do the White Witches hate us so much?"
Cordelia paused, turned to me, and gently smoothed out the skirt of my dress—too bright, too cheerful for the grimness around us.
She looked me in the eye. "I don't know how you'll take this," she said quietly. "But I need to be honest with you."
I held my breath.
"It all started twenty-five years ago," she continued. "And it has everything to do with your mother."
I froze.
Another secret. Another piece of my life I never knew. Another truth my mother kept buried—and I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever really known her at all.