Witch Coven Quotes

Everybody is something. Even the most common witch has her coven.

Your average witch is not, by nature, a social animal as far as other witches are concerned. There's a conflict of dominant personalities. There's a group of ringleaders without a ring. There's the basic unwritten rule of witchcraft, which is 'Don't do what you will, do what I say.' The natural size of a coven is one. Witches only get together when they can't avoid it.

You needed at least three witches for a coven. Two witches was just an argument.

Ancient moon priestesses were called virgins. ‘Virgin’ meant not married, not belong to a man - a woman who was ‘one-in-herself’. The very word derives from a Latin root meaning strength, force, skill; and was later applied to men: virle. Ishtar, Diana, Astarte, Isis were all all called virgin, which did not refer to sexual chasity, but sexual independence. And all great culture heroes of the past…, mythic or historic, were said to be born of virgin mothers: Marduk, Gilgamesh, Buddha, Osiris, Dionysus, Genghis Khan, Jesus - they were all affirmed as sons of the Great Mother, of the Original One, their worldly power deriving from her. When the Hebrews used the word, and in the original Aramaic, it meant ‘maiden’ or ‘young woman’, with no connotations to sexual chasity. But later Christian translators could not conceive of the ‘Virgin Mary’ as a woman of independent sexuality, needless to say; they distorted the meaning into sexually pure, chaste, never touched. When Joan of Arc, with her witch coven associations, was called La Pucelle - ‘the Maiden,’ ‘the Virgin’ - the word retained some of its original pagan sense of a strong and independent woman. The Moon Goddess was worshipped in orgiastic rites, being the divinity of matriarchal women free to take as many lovers as they choose. Women could ‘surrender’ themselves to the Goddess by making love to a stranger in her temple.

The widow’s eyebrows raised. “Ye’ve got all these nasty pooches to run around with and ye still might die?” “I’m going to go fight with a god, some demons, and a coven of witches who all want to kill me,” I said, “so it’s a distinct possibility.” “Are y’goin’ t’kill ’em back?” “I’d certainly like to.” “Attaboy,” the widow chuckled. “Off y’go, then. Kill every last one o’ the bastards and call me in the mornin’.

The Calamitous Coven.” “No.” “Eve’s Army.” “No! It ought to be about, I don’t know, sisterhood or union—” “The Ladies Union of Giving the Bastards What’s Coming to Them.

If your going to be a jackass then do it outside of your home, as your home is supposed to be a place of love and safety, it's your sanctuary from the outside world. The only place where we can truly be accepted.

Not today, Satan.

burn whoever tries to burn you.-coven rule #2.

Churches crack me up. They're like money, a conspiracy of faith. Like everyone agreed to believe that not only is there a God, but he comes down and checks on folks, so long as they hang in certain places, put up alters, burn lots of candles and incense, and perform sit-stand-kneel and other wacky rituals that'd make a coven of witches not look OCD.

Truth is in the guidance of the Coven. Is it a curse or a blessing?

Internalizing pain didn’t get rid of the anguish. It only allowed it to stay locked inside the gut, in the mind, where it ate away at the soul. Breaking down exterior strength from the inside out.

And to do something that helps your coven survive, even after your own death, is the greatest gift you can possibly give them…” --Angela from Angela’s Coven

there’s a fine line between daring and idiotic, and you just sailed right over it.

Mum, you're freaking me out. You're not a witch. You shop at Next.

need for open air and an endless night sky. The sense of being small in such a vast universe was often soothing.

Sex and dominance. It’s what modern humans think vampire relationships are all about,” I said. “Their stories are full of crazed alpha-male vampires throwing women over their shoulders before dragging them off for dinner and a date.” “Dinner and a date?” Matthew was aghast. “Do you mean . . . ?” “Uh-huh. You should see what Sarah’s friends in the Madison coven read. Vampire meets girl, vampire bites girl, girl is shocked to find out there really are vampires. The sex, blood, and overprotective behavior all come quickly thereafter. Some of it is pretty explicit.” I paused. “There’s no time for bundling, that’s for sure. I don’t remember much poetry or dancing either.” Matthew swore. “No wonder your aunt wanted to know if I was hungry.” “You really should read this stuff, if only to see what humans think. It’s a public-relations nightmare. Far worse than what witches have to overcome.

Esk wouldn't have known what a collective noun was if it had spat in her eye, but she knew there was a herd of goats and a coven of witches.

Follow your heart as long as your head and gut decide to stroll along with it.

Like jumping off of a cliff you knew had an eighty percent chance of having deadly spikes at the bottom. That’s what love was to her. A skewering death trap.

again. Once again,

Looking at her is like trying to see to the bottom of the ocean, fathomless and unknowable

You can't fight a hurricane with half an umbrella.

always put yourself first. sacrifice at your own discretion.-coven rule #1.

Go for a walk outdoors. Reconnect with the feeling of the wind blowing through your hair. Listen to the birds that live in a tree in your yard. Watch the sunset. Take time to smell the flowers that bloom in the park during the summer. The natural world is just as natural as it ever was, except there's less of it than there was twenty-five years ago - and most of us don't make a point of enjoying it often enough.

I don't mess around with the men in the coven, especially my Shadowblades," she said with quiet finality. Flirting was one thing but anything more, it was a mistake of epic proportions. His eyes narrowed and he gave a slow shake of his head. "That is all right then. Because I want so much more than just to mess around.

purple was supposed to embody a sense of good judgment. On the other, it represented romance.

All girls trust their daddies,” Kylie said quietly. “The trick is finding a man who measures up.

The restroom is right out in the hall, they said. You can’t miss it, they said. Well I missed it. And now I was lost.

make no apologies; accept no apologies.-coven rule #3.

Do what you want with the rest of your witches, but the next time you touch her, I will rain Hell upon you.

All Librarians are members of the Catalogue. That's what you call a coven when it's made up of Librarians instead of witches. Librarians have sorted and alphabetized all the magic that ever thought to put a rabbit and a hat together. Who do you think invented Special Collections?

♫ Wait a minute, baby...stay with me awhile...said you'd show me light, but you never told me 'bout the fire ♫ Steve didn't really find her voice until after she and Lindsay joined Fleetwood Mac. And that's the thing: you can't be your best self until you find your tribe. I'm still lookin' for mine.

A hospital at midnight seemed one of the quietest places on earth. The air felt ominous, heavy with the smell of worry. Empty halls were filled with nothing but the artificial light that bounced from sterile white floors and walls.

We are not a coven." "Kim's a witch." "She's a vegan." "What's the difference?

Maybe you should go down there and make sure—” “She severs the arm properly?” Devon pursed her lips and nodded. “Excellent thinking. Holler if you need anything.

He opens his mouth and I want to kill him. I've actually had fantasies of ripping of his head Savannah." The older witch looked at her a long moment. "What?" "Don't do it in front of his Dogs." "Hopefully, I won't do it at all. If things get too bad, I'll divorce him.

He preferred leaving some things to the imagination, enjoying his own stories of what the clock had witnessed over the years. He could be a patient man when need be, and the fine, intricate parts definitely required a slow hand. An appreciative touch and respect for the inner workings that had to be aligned perfectly to function. He chuckled low. Definitely like

Okay, okay, we get it. You two really like each other,” Egan says. He nudges Keller aside. “It’s my turn. I think I have a date up there somewhere.” Bit Toni doesn’t appear at the top of the stairs. “Toni?” I say. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Egan adds. “She’s, uh…I’ll go get her.” I don’t want to reveal how nervous Toni is. That will put too much importance on this date, on Egan. “Nah, I’ll go get her.” Egan bounds up the stairs.

Selene," Cheney cupped my face, "if this is the beginning of a confession, let me assure you I am not naive. You're a beautiful woman, and I have little doubt you have had a lot of boyfriends during our time apart. Please feel free to NEVER tell me about any of them. And if you never utter the name Michael again, it would be much appreciated." His eyes flashed at his name.

I wish there was something that lingered beyond our deaths, some hint that my dad was still here, watching over me. Instead, the Middle Sister claims our souls and carries us to wherever the Mother Goddess has banished her. We're reunited with our creator in death, but she leaves nothing for those who were left behind.

Beauty isn't just something you have; it's something you do.

For you, a witch is any woman who understands she has power even when the world insists she doesn't

Girl, if that’s the way you react to pizza, then we were destined to be besties.

At its best, a coven is a spiritual community or a mutual aid society of witches who hang out.

Yes, daddy.

He preferred leaving some things to the imagination, enjoying his own stories of what the clock had witnessed over the years. He could be a patient man when need be, and the fine, intricate parts definitely required a slow hand. An appreciative touch and respect for the inner workings that had to be aligned perfectly to function. He chuckled low. Definitely like a woman.

Means I'm half-Ever, though' Dot said, looking tense. 'Not exactly a witch.' She eyed Hester and Anadil nervously, as if she might be expelled from the coven. 'Well...' said Hester. 'Nobody's perfect.

To practice in a group requires both a loosening of self-consciousness and a tightening grip on the rudder of sincerity. You have to care, and you have to let others see you caring. And you have to bear witness to their caring in turn.

When Julia was in middle school, a girl had accused her and her sisters of being a coven of witches. Julia hadn’t known what a coven was and had to look the word up. The definition had delighted her, and she’d hoped the girl was correct.

Do I at least get to keep the toothbrush?” “Sure. Unless you can get it back in that wrapper and seal it up all nice and new. Well, that’s what the last girl did. See, you can hardly tell it’s been opened!” --Reggie Sinclair from Angela's Coven

Oberon’s been kidnapped along with one of the werewolves, and that’s why we’re all so upset. We’ll talk more tomorrow, and I promise to answer all your questions if I survive the night,” I said. The widow’s eyebrows raised. “Ye’ve got all these nasty pooches to run around with and ye still might die?” “I’m going to go fight with a god, some demons, and a coven of witches who all want to kill me,” I said, “so it’s a distinct possibility.” “Are y’goin’ t’kill ’em back?” “I’d certainly like to.” “Attaboy,” the widow chuckled. “Off y’go, then. Kill every last one o’ the bastards and call me in the mornin’.

What was the bug that got into me? My covenanting forebears had one answer, and the state-subsidised mindbenders and witch doctors have another. Let's ay that whateverer it was, it's got this world through some tricky situations to the present point, and without it we perish.

A belief system usually evolves over time. It's something that we grow into, as our needs and goals develop and change. Even when we find a system of beliefs that works for us, we hone and fine-tune it, working our way deeper and deeper into its essential truth. Everything we experience, every thought we have, every desire, need, action, and reaction - everything we perceive with our senses goes into our personal databank and helps to create the belief systems that we hold now. Nothing is lost or forgotten in our lives. You don't have to remain a victim of your conditioning, however. You can choose for yourself what you believe or don't believe, what you desire and don't desire. You can define your own parameters. Once you do that, you can start consciously creating your destiny according to your own vision.

People who buy the little jars and boxes aren’t staying. They only want enough to last them while they’re here.” --Ginger the Checkout girl from The Great Northern Coven

I know... that's why you're down here and not enjoying some picnic in a golden meadow amongst the harps and puffy clouds." --Lucifer from Angela's Coven

The woman is like a glow stick. I want to snap her and then shake the hell out of her until the light comes on.

You can't blame yourself for the decisions others make.

I like my scars, they show I fight back.

Alanna Carrington, head witch of the Philadelphia Coven, hurtled his way, and with her, trouble was a guarantee.

Some people think that “coven” is a word for a group of witches, and it’s true that’s what the dictionary says. But the real word for a group of witches is an “argument.

There’s my wicked little witch,

Oh, Lady Emma… I like to think there’s a little bit of witch in all of us. Don’t you agree?” --Andrea from Angela's Coven #covenbooks

Your life right now is a reflection of your past thoughts.

There are people who walk this Earth who truly belong in Hell. Sometimes, we have to move ‘em along a little… point the way.” --Vernon Kraft, Avenging Angel from The Ragtime Coven

They are going to come in here all hopped up on their latest smutty book, cackling like a coven of witches. And then they’re going to want to know everything about you.

I hadn’t been talking to myself…I’d been talking to a…a…ghost.

need someone to put out a fire at the coven’s training house.’ There was a beat of silence. ‘Again?

I was declaring war on the black coven; they just didn’t know it yet.

Witches are people.

into black dust just like the wolf demon. Cooper stood

You're a witch. Don't you think Bible quotes are a bit hypocritical?

In theory, a coven is just a group of witches working together.”  Jamie looked pained. “In practice?” “In practice, it tends to be really heavy on ritual, really light on actual magic.

The front door of the Flippant Witch gave a series of loud clicks and swung inward. Renard Lambert, his blue-and-purple finery resembling a plum in the twitching lanterns, practically hurled himself through the open doorway “Widdershins!” he called loudly, cape flowing behind him, “I—gaaack!” He ducked, barely in time to avoid the carafe that shattered loudly against the wall just behind his head. The tinkling of broken glass, a dangerous entry chime indeed, sounded around him. “Oh,” Genevieve said, her tone only vaguely contrite. “It's just your friend. Sorry, Renard.” “Sorry? Sorry?! What the hell were you—ah. Um, hello, ah, Widdershins." Widdershins, who had lurched to her feet as the door opened, was suddenly and forcibly reminded by Renard's stunned stare that Genevieve had disrobed her in order to get at the rapier wound. Blushing as furiously as a nun in a brothel, she ducked behind her blonde-haired friend and groped desperately for her shirt. “Didn't mean to take your head off, Renard,” Genevieve said, mainly to distract him. “But you rather startled us.” “Quite understandable,” the popinjay responded absently, his eyes flickering madly as he fought to locate some safe place to put them.

The Girauds' child was looking more and more like a problem. Luke pressed his lips into a thin line. When she'd leaned in the stagecoach blazing with fervor over what was in the arcane books, it had taken all his willpower not to throw a bolt of magic to stop her heart.

Churces crack me up. They're like money, a conspiracy of faith. Like everyone agreed to believe not only is there a God, but he comes down and checks on folks, so long as they hang in certain places, put up altars, burn lots of candles and incense, and perform sit-stand-kneel and other wacky rituals that'd make a coven of witches look not OCD. Then to further complicate it, some folks perform rituals, subset A, and others folks perform rituals, subset B, C,or D, and so on into an infinity of denominations, and call themselves different things then deny everyone's elses right to heaven if they're not performing the same rituals. Dude. Weird. I figure if there is a God, he or she isn't paying attention to what we build or if follow some elaborate rules, but copping a ride on our shoulders, watching what we do every day.Seing if we took this great big adventure called life and did anything interesting with it. I figure that the folks that are the most interesting get to go to heaven. I mean, if I was God, that's who I would want there with me. I also figure being eternally happy would be eternally boring so I try not to be too interesting, even though it's hard for me. I would rather be a superhero in hell, kicking all kinds of demon ass, than an angel in heaven, waiting around with a beatific smile on my face, playing a pansy harp all day.

But Mather's smile faded as he thought of what other provisions the charter contained. What would the godly say when they learned that the electorate was no longer to be limited to members of the Covenant but broadened to include propertied members of every Christian sect this side of papistry? This was a revolutionary innovation, whose consequences would be incalculable. Hitherto the limitation of the privilege of voting to the elect had been the very corner-stone of theocracy. It had been a wise and human provision designed to keep the faithful in control even when, as had long ago become the case, they were heavily outnumbered by lesser men without the Covenant. God who had not designated the majority of men to salvation surely never intended for the damned to rule. Yet now, under the new charter, it very much looked as if they might.

And so, with their first public action on Halloween of 1968, the feminist activist group called W.I.T.C.H. was born. Its members donned witch costumes, replete with brooms and pointy black hats, and did a public ritual performance of hexing the New York Stock Exchange. Did it work? Well, as Gloria Steinem wrote about the incident in New York magazine, “A coven of 13 members of W.I.T.C.H. demonstrates against that bastion of white supremacy: Wall Street. The next day, the market falls five points.” (The glue that the witches added to the locks of the NYSE doors also added a bit of whammy, no doubt.)

I have come to serve you with a warning, Diana Bishop. Relationships between witches and vampires are forbidden. You must leave this house and no longer associate with Matthew de Clermont or any of his family. If you don’t, the Congregation will take whatever steps are necessary to preserve the covenant.

Let me get this straight: You want to poison me nearly to death, put me out to the side of the road and then set me on fire, right?" "...It sounded a lot better when we were out in the mushroom patch." "Those must have been SOME mushrooms!" --Reggie Sinclair and The Witches in Training from Angela's Coven.

had to look the word up. The definition had delighted her, and she’d hoped the girl was correct. The four Padavano sisters dressed up as witches for Halloween that year, and Charlie gleefully quoted Macbeth at them. Julia, in the height of her girlhood, with a pointed black hat on her head, knew that they were a coven of witches,

Churches crack me up. They’re like money, a conspiracy of faith. Like everyone agreed to believe that not only is there a God, but he comes down and checks on folks, so long as they hang in certain places, put up altars, burn lots of candles and incense, and perform sit-stand-kneel and other wacky rituals that’d make a coven of witches look not OCD.

The Coven of Witches, however, believed only in the natural forces of the world. Everyone was free to seek their own path to wisdom and to worship in whatever way they pleased. If they prayed, it was to Eà, who encompassed both light and darkness, life and death, the creative and the destructive. Eà was neither good nor evil, male nor female. Eà was both and neither.

Hypaxia seemed to debate whether to answer, but finally said, “You want to know what delayed me these days? What I feared this fall has come to pass. Morganthia Dragas and her coven have staged a coup in the name of what they consider the preservation of witchkind’s old ways. I am Queen of the Valbaran Witches no longer.” She touched her breast, where her usual golden pin of Cthona was broken in two. “To escape their executioners, I have sworn fealty to the House of Flame and Shadow.

Manon stalked through the ranks of the assembled Blackbeak coven leaders. They were the most numerous—twenty coven leaders, over which Manon ruled with her Thirteen. Each leader touched two fingers to her brow in deference. She ignored them and took up a spot at the front of the crowd, where her grandmother gave her an acknowledging glance. An honor, for any High Witch to acknowledge an individual. Manon bowed her head, pressing two fingers to her brow. Obedience, discipline, and brutality were the most beloved words in the Blackbeak Clan.

Just reason it out. What are the pros and cons with her?” “Reason! Always with your bloody reason. Do you know what I’m going to enjoy? When you meet your demoness and she shakes to tell your unflappable demeanor. I’m going to laugh when you turn enraged, horns flaring ramrod straight every time she saunters by.” “Noted. Now, begin with the pros.” “Verra well. She’s clever, she’s brave, and, by all the gods, she’s graced in form. And I’m no’ going to apologize for being a typical male—I do want the sexiest female I’ve ever laid eyes on to be mine. I’ll admit that I want her on my arm and in my bed. And I want to be smug over having her desire me, too.” “The cons . . .” “Right back to the witchery. Would you no’ be a tad unnerved if your female could unleash the force of an atomic bomb whenever she got nettled with you?” Rydstrom nodded in commiseration, then said, “Take away the fact that she’s a witch—” “I will be taking away that fact,” Bowe interrupted. “Practicing witchcraft is voluntary. I could see to it that she never—” Out of the blue, a bee stung him. “Damn it,” he muttered, slapping it away, then continued, “If I snatched her away from her coven and immersed her with the Lykae—” Another sting. “Son of a bitch!” When the odd breeze blew once more, Bowe narrowed his eyes. “The witch.” He gazed up at the sky and all around him. “Playing with me again! I’ll turn her over my knee for this.

Little Marjorie was born an only child some forty years ago. She had lost her mother at a young age and her father never remarried. All her life she had been cursed with the need for her ‘coke-bottle’ glasses with the practical over-sized frames. And then there was the unfortunate appearance of her protruding front teeth. She had always been a slight child, but when children begin to grow into young men and women, slight becomes scrawny and her lack of fashion-sense and self-worth had sealed her social fate. Marjorie had never gone to Prom, nor any dance for that matter, and when the boys chose mates and began the next phase of the great circle of life…little Marjorie Morningstar had not been included. --From The Great Northern Coven

You're going to the ball?" Luc asked. "Need an escort?" "I appreciate the offer, but I hear it's all the rage to go stag." He raised his eyebrows. "Besides, I think your brother might take it amiss." "I thought you two were... taking a break?" "I'd like to wait and see. He's only gone for a couple of weeks." "I'll take you," Aidan interrupted again. "I was planning on going, myself." "Dude, I'll take you," echoed Conrad from his seat at the counter. "Thanks guys." I had to smile. This for a witch who was quite literally banned from any and all high school dances. "But, really, I sort of like the idea of going solo." Just then we all looked around as the bell on the front door tinkled again, this time announcing the arrival of Inspector Carlos Romero. "Blessed goddess!" Bronwyn exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "Don't tell me you're here to ask Lily out as well? I'm beginning to feel like a dueña." "No," Carlos said, looking puzzled.

Your mother was a fool to give you away,” Hilde grumbled. Lidia arched a brow. “Is that a compliment?” “Take it as you will.” The hag flashed her rotting teeth in a nightmare of a smile. “You’re a born killer—like any true witch. That girl on the throne is as softhearted as your mother. She’ll bring down the entire Valbaran witch-dynasty.” “Alas, my father was a smart negotiator,” Lidia said, making a good show of admiring the ruby ring on her finger, the stone as red as Irithys’s flame. “But enough about me.” She gestured to the hag, then to the sprite. “Irithys, Queen of the Sprites. Hilde, Grand Hag of the Imperial Coven.” “I know who you are,” Irithys said, her voice quiet with leashed rage. She now floated in the center of the orb, her body bloodred. “You put this collar on me.” Hilde again smiled, wide enough to reveal her blackened gums. A lesser person would have cowered at that smile. “I had the honor of doing it to the little bitch who bore the crown before you, too.” Hilde didn’t mean Irithys’s mother, who had never been queen at all. No, when the last Sprite Queen had died, the line had passed to a different branch of the family, with Irithys first to inherit.

Damn, Mari, it’s cold!” Carrow chafed her arms. “I dig the whole Narnian vibe you’ve got going on, I do. And I’ve been dutifully keeping an eye out for talking beavers wearing armor—but come on, this is getting ridiculous! If you miss the Scot so much, then just break free.” Elianna said, “Do you know he’s bought the property just next door to Andoain so he can scent you the minute you come home. And, well, because his house got blown up.” “Look, Mari, you have to come out of this and do something,” Carrow said. “Put him out of his misery—or—allow me to make him fall in love with dryer lint. You decide.” She shrugged. “I know you’d worried about Bowen not wanting to come near the coven, but we can’t get him to leave. Apparently, some of the witches admitted to him that you’re on a different plane—he can be really dogged with the questions—and now he’s determined to reach you here. Interestingly, he believes the information about the plane’s existence—but not about the fact that he can’t travel to it.” “He returns to Adoain daily, sometimes hourly, researching witchery,” Elianna said. Carrow glared, “Well, maybe if you and the others would stop sneakily setting out food for him, he wouldn’t keep coming back!” Crossing her arms over her chest, Elianna said in a mulish tone, “He wouldn’t eat otherwise.” “Whatever. But seriously, Mari, he’s having such a hard time with all this that even Regin feels sorry for what he’s been through.” Elianna added, “He’s watched your graduation video so many times, I’m sure he’s memorized your school’s alma mater.” “I don’t know what he does with the videos of your college cheerleading he brings back to his place”—Carrow waggled her eyebrows—“but I have suspicions.” Elianna coughed delicately. “Now that you’ve done what you were Awaited to do—well, part one at least—everyone’s grasping about for a new name for you,” Carrow said. “If you don’t kick this enthrallment, then I’m going to campaign for Mariketa the Glass Witch, or ‘Glitch.’ Come kick my ass if you don’t like it, otherwise . . .” Elianna squinted at Mari and sighed. “I think she wants to be called Mariketa MacRieve.

The rose is a symbol of the inner mysteries of Witchcraft. A red rose symbolizes the mysteries as they reside in Nature, within the living things. The white rose symbolizes the Otherworld and the mysteries hidden in secret places. When a single rose appears with white petals in the center of red petals, this represents the mysteries joined together within one reality. Thorns appearing with the rose represent challenges and the dedication required to fully grasp the enlightenment of the rose. One of the symbolisms associated with the rose reveals the covenant between the Witch and the Faery. In this, we find that both are stewards of the portal that opens to the inner mysteries. The Faery holds the celestial key, and the Witch bears the terrestrial key. When the two are joined together, they form an X—the sign of the crossroads. In this formation, where the keys cross we find a third point, the in-between place at the center. This is where the portal exists, and this is where it opens between the worlds. Look at the shape of the X and you can see four pointed tip markers (the V shapes). The upper half of the X points down, and the lower half points up. On the sides of the X, you can see that the left and right halves point to the center. This shows us that when the celestial and terrestrial realms join, they pull together the left ways and the right ways. These are occult terms for esoteric and exoteric modes of consciousness. In the fusion, everything briefly loses its distinction, its ability to mask the opposite reality, and in doing so, the secret third reality emerges in the center of it all. If this sounds confusing or nonsensical, then the guardian of that portal is doing its job well. The material in this book will connect you with an entity connected to the rose and its mystery. This is the previously mentioned She of the Thorn-Blooded Rose. With her guidance, you can be directed to the portal, and through it you can meet a variety of beings and entities. However, her primary task is to connect you with the Greenwood Realm and the plant spirits within it. In your journey to encounter these spirits, you will pass through the organic memory of the earth. You'll walk upon roads of mystical concepts and be accompanied by the Old Ones of

Or, in your case, as wide. Wait. Did you just say Gandalf?” “He is the founder of our order, and the first of the Five Warlocks. He comes from afar across the Western Ocean, from Easter Island, or perhaps from Japan.” “No, I think he comes from the mind of a story writer. An old-fashioned Roman Catholic from the days just before First Space Age. Unless I am confusing him with the guy who wrote about Talking Animal Land? With the Cowardly Lion who gets killed by a Wicked White Witch? I never read the text, I watched the comic.” “Oh, you err so! The Witches, we have preserved this lore since the time of the Fall of the Giants, whom we overthrew and destroyed. The tale is this: C. S. Lewis and Arthur C. Clarke were led by the Indian Maiden Sacagawea to the Pacific Ocean and back, stealing the land from the Red Man and selling them blankets impregnated with smallpox. It was called the Lewis and Clarke Expedition. When they reached the Pacific, they set out in the Dawn Treader to find the sea route to India, where the sacred river Alph runs through caverns measureless to man down to a sunless sea. They came to the Last Island, called Ramandu or Selidor, where the World Serpent guards the gateway to the Land of the Dead, and there they found Gandalf, returned alive from the underworld, and stripped of all his powers. He came again to mortal lands in North America to teach the Simon Families. The Chronicle is a symbolic retelling of their journey. It is one of our Holy Books.” “Your Holy Books were written for children by Englishmen.” “The gods wear many masks! If the Continuum chooses the lips of a White Man to be the lips through which the Continuum speaks, who are we to question? Tolkien was not Roman. He was of a race called the hobbits, Homo floresiensis, discovered on an isle in Indonesia, and he would have lived in happiness, had not the White Man killed him with DDT. So there were no Roman Catholics involved. May the Earth curse their memory forever! May they be forgotten forever!” “Hm. Earth is big. Maybe it can do both. You know about Rome? It perished in the Ecpyrosis, somewhat before your time.” “How could we not? The Pope in Rome created the Giants, whom the Witches rose up against and overthrew. Theirs was the masculine religion, aggressive, intolerant, and forbidding abortion. Ours is the feminine religion, peaceful and life-affirming and all-loving, and we offer the firstborn child to perish on our sacred fires. The First Coven was organized to destroy them like rats! When Rome was burned, we danced, and their one god was cast down and fled weeping on his pierced feet, and our many gods rose up. My ancestors hunted the Christians like stoats, and when we caught them, we burned them slowly, as they once did of us in Salem. What ill you do is returned to you tenfold!” “Hm. Are you willing to work with a Giant? I saw one in the pit, and saw the jumbo-sized coffin they pried him out from. What if he is a baptized Christian? Most of them were, since they were created by my pet pope and raised by nuns.” “All Christians must perish! Such is our code.” “Your code is miscoded.” “What of the Unforgettable Hate?” “Forget about it.

Sabine dear, you behaved so wonderfully, so poised and mature. I was very proud of you." Huh? Was I hearing right? My mother-proud of me? "You looked lovely and I was very impressed with your young man," she continued. "Has Josh ever considered modeling? I could put him in contact with some key people if he's interested." "I don't think so. But I'll tell him." "Also be sure to tell him he's welcome to visit anytime." "Should I come, too?" "Don't make jokes, Sabine. I'm being sincere." "Well ... thanks. I'll tell josh and we'll plan a visit." "Excellent. He's exactly the sort of young man I'd hoped you'd find, and clearly a very good influence to help you overcome your past problems." "You don't have to worry about me." "I'm not-but I'm concerned about Amy." "Why?" I asked cautiously. "She's at an impressionable age, and I don't want her to experience anything unnatural. I wouldn't have allowed her to stay with you if I hadn't thought you'd outgrown all the woo-woo nonsense." Yeah, like I'm going to take Amy to a coven meeting where we'll dance naked with spirits in the moonlight. Mom hadn't changed at all-my abilities still freaked her out. She'd only called to make sure I didn't corrupt my little sister. Her sugary compliments were as fake as artificial sweetener. Arguing would just bring a quick end to Amy's visit. So I said what Mom wanted to hear-lying through my clenched teeth for Amy's sake. Then I slammed the phone down.

Most people assume that life is like a game of chess, each decision cold, calculating and ultimately leading toward one large goal - our purpose in life, whatever that may be. I've never agreed with that idea. To me, like is like Jenga; we stack decisions on top of one another without a guide or any real idea of what we're doing. One wrong move causes it to all come crashing down, leaving you to deal with the ruins your life has become.

Push-ups, Loni. He was doing push-ups.” “In bed?!” “No, you moron, we were having sex!

How natural am I supposed to act? There’s a dead man motorboating my girls.

a witch is any woman who understands she has power even when the world insists she doesn’t.

Glinda was changed. She knew it herself. She had come to Shiz a vain, silly thing, and she now found herself in a coven of vipers. Maybe it was her own fault.

I walk to the car, full of everything. Being a witch without being a vampire or a halfling is amazing. I am full, just being me. When

The freak show was about to begin. Spotlights flooded the musicians powered by solar panels near a massive amplifier. The guitarist continued playing and the others joined in, playing a raucous crossover between hard rock and heavy metal. The one with long blond hair grabbed hold of the microphone and belted out a shattering cry that sounded like a call to battle. The crowd went pin drop silent to listen and then cheered in unison as the band played on. The front man sang piercing growls and low croons about the Knights in Stone, the protectors of the ancient forests, battling against the evil tree witches... Kayla's coven.