Joy of Witchcraft Read Online Free PDF Page A

in both of us with a glance.
    I nodded. “What happened to Hecate’s Court?”
    David’s jaw tightened. “They left as soon as the satyr manifested.”
    “What?” I was shocked.
    “Their purpose was to make sure the magicarium completed a working. Calling the satyr sufficed.”
    “He could have killed us! He nearly raped Cassie!”
    “That’s not the Court’s problem.”
    Technically, he was right. But the Court should have felt some obligation to aid their fellow witches. That was only human nature.
    Right. Like the Court was bound by common human decency. Somewhere, some time, some member of Hecate’s Court might slip up and show a hint of emotion. But I’d never seen a hint of ordinary human feeling from any of them in the past. They had one job: keeping peace among all recognized witches. Their word was final in all disputes. Beyond that, they refused to become involved.
    “They left that behind,” David said. He nodded toward the marble altar. A single sheet of parchment was plastered to the stone.
    “What the—” I pried it loose. The document was clearly ensorcelled—it didn’t tear, even though it was soaked through. And the ornate lettering was cast in some magical ink, a formula that didn’t run in the rain. I skimmed through the formal language to find the key phrase at the bottom: “All magicarium classes must be conducted on a regular schedule throughout said academic term, or said charter shall be immediately and permanently revoked.”
    More interference from the Court. More intimidation directed at the Jane Madison Academy.
    It hardly mattered, though. I fully intended to conduct my classes on a regular basis. I didn’t need dictates from Hecate’s Court to do what was right. I handed the document to David, who folded it in three parts and tucked it into his pocket.
    Shaking my head, I rested my hand against the marble altar. It felt absolutely ordinary—like any other rain-washed stone. There wasn’t a hint of malevolence, not a whisper of the evil that had burst through with the satyr. Suddenly exhausted, I asked, “Where did that thing come from?”
    “I told you,” Clara answered before David could. “A hellmouth. That’s what I learned in the course I’m auditing.”
    “Course?” I asked.
    “ Urban Planning and the Ancient World . At the University of Maryland."
    I shook my head. “Why are you taking classes at the University of Maryland?”
    “Now that you’ve officially launched the magicarium, Jeanette, I want to be close by. In case you need help with your more esoteric courses. And as long as I’m on the east coast, I figured I’d take a class to help me plan Oak Canyon Coven’s nootuh.”
    “New what?” Obviously, the banishing spell had taken more out of me than I thought. I seemed to be losing my hearing. I glanced at David for clarification, but he only shrugged.
    “Nootuh,” Clara enunciated. “N-W-T-A. Nucleus with tentacles attached. It’s a form of planned community. We’ll have a central building for communal activities—meals and entertainment and rituals—that’s the nucleus. But each of us will have our own living quarters, our own private spaces.”
    “The tentacles. Got it.” I turned to David and faked a sweet voice. “Did you know Clara was studying nearby?”
    His scowl told me he’d known. And Clara’s adult education campaign fell squarely in the category of things where he refused to act as middleman between my mother and me. With a brittle smile, I turned back to my Clara. “So, your professor at the University of Maryland just happened to feature local hellmouths in his class?”
    “Professor Kipperman didn’t feature hellmouths. This week’s lecture was about necropolises, cities of the dead built near ancient settlements. The lost necropolis of Epidauros in ancient Greece was built around a perfect circle of cleared earth. Scholars theorize the villagers excavated a hellmouth, a way for heroes to banish creatures back