Chapter 23

  THE WITCHES’ COVEN

  Night stretched like a dark cloak over the unfamiliar park. The full moon dimly lit the place, bathing everything in its cold, pale light. Gabriel sat on the ground, motionless, staring fixedly at the spot where the portal had been moments before. His eyes reflected a mix of despair and dying hope, as if he expected his mother to appear before him.

  Sofía lifted her gaze to the sky, searching for answers among the stars, wondering what their mothers would do in a situation like this. Meanwhile, Laura tended to Max, who could barely keep his eyes open. His breathing was uneven, and fatigue seemed to have drained all his energy.

  Not far away, Cristina, Melody, and Raían watched in silence as everyone, one by one, sank into hopelessness. The idea of defeating Sabine felt more distant than ever, a shattered dream now slipping through their fingers.

  — It’s over. Those bitches are going to talk, or I’ll show them the extent of my magic —Cristina growled with fury, her eyes gleaming with determination.

  — Who are you talking about? —Raían asked, confused.

  — The Witches’ Coven —Melody interjected, her tone somber, as if that name stirred more trouble than solutions.

  Cristina walked toward Gabriel, measuring each step, aware of the deep pain surrounding him. She leaned slightly toward him, her voice gentle but firm.

  — Gabriel, we have to go.

  — I’m not leaving —he replied, without lifting his gaze from the ground—. I’ll stay here. She’s going to come back… she’ll open the portal. I know it.

  The pain in his voice was unmistakable, and Cristina sighed, searching for a way to reach him without hurting him further.

  — Gabriel…

  — I’ll stay with him —Laura interrupted, sitting beside him without hesitation.

  Cristina looked at her, uncertainty written across her face.

  — Are you sure?

  — Yes. You go. Take Max, talk to the Coven, and find help. We’ll be fine… —Laura cast a worried glance at Gabriel—. He needs time.

  — I’m going with you —Sofía said, turning to Cristina. Before leaving, she approached Gabriel and leaned down to kiss his forehead tenderly—. I’ll be back. I promise.

  With those words, Sofía joined Cristina, Melody, and Raían, who were carefully carrying Max. Together, they began walking into the unknown, determined to find answers and help.

  Laura remained silent, feeling the night dew soak into the grass beneath them. With a slow, comforting gesture, she rested her head on Gabriel’s shoulder, sharing his pain in silence.

  — Why did she do it? —Gabriel murmured, his voice broken with anguish.

  — Because that’s what mothers do —Laura replied softly—. They sacrifice themselves for their children.

  Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, Sabine’s words coming back to torment him.

  — Sabine said she was my jailer… But my mother was the only one who made me feel that that realm wasn’t a prison. Maybe… —Tears began to roll down his cheeks as his voice faded.

  Laura looked at him gently, carefully wiping away his tears.

  — Don’t even think for a second that your mother didn’t love you. Sabine only wants to make us suffer. Maybe Ann wasn’t your biological mother, but she was the one who took care of you. She changed your diapers, fed you, soothed you when you were scared… Gabriel, she was your mother, and she loved you with every fiber of her being.

  The weight of her words seemed to settle over him, though his gaze was still filled with doubt.

  — If Sabine told the truth… there’s a demon inside me. And… —Gabriel hesitated, his thoughts converging on something dark and disturbing.

  Laura noticed the intensity in his expression.

  — And what?

  — The ritual Sabine described… it’s the nightmare I kept having in Paradise. My dreams always showed me the truth, but I ignored them. My mother knew. I think she should have told me —Gabriel said, a shadow of anger creeping into his voice.

  Laura watched him with empathy, letting him finish before replying.

  — Told you? How do you tell someone you love that they carry a powerful demon inside them, one that must never be released? Ann only wanted to give you a life free of that burden. I understand—she made mistakes. My mother made mistakes too, Gabriel, but no one is perfect. Not even angels. What matters is that she fought for you, for your future.

  Laura smiled at him warmly, trying to light the abyss of doubt and pain surrounding him. Gabriel looked at her for a moment, and though his sadness remained, something in his eyes seemed to cling to her words.

  Gabriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of every step he was about to take. Despite the pain choking him, he knew that staying there would change nothing. Max, his beloved, was still in danger, and the time to act had come. With resolve, he helped Laura to her feet, and together they followed the path their friends had taken.

  After walking for half an hour, they found the rest of the group, who were still questioning passersby to find their way. The tension on their faces vanished when they saw Gabriel and Laura approaching, and a spark of relief lit up their eyes.

  — I got a vehicle —Raían announced, hurrying over with a proud smile.

  — How did you get it? —Cristina asked, raising an eyebrow in clear skepticism.

  — You’re not going to like the answer, but I got it —he replied with a shrug—. Humans are easy to please.

  — Too much information —Melody cut in, raising her hand to stop an unnecessary explanation.

  — Do I want to know? —Sofía asked curiously.

  Melody leaned toward her and whispered something in her ear.

  — That’s disgusting! You’re a pig! —Sofía exclaimed, stepping back with a look of revulsion.

  — Angels and their eternal moral superiority because of their asexuality… —Raían muttered, offended, glancing sideways at her.

  — Please, let’s focus —Cristina interrupted sharply—. Let’s get to the city’s central park. From there, we’ll enter the town of Arbolaria Viate and get answers. There’s no time to lose.

  The group climbed into the vehicle, and the ride was relatively short. The city lights shone like artificial stars, and the streets were full of people strolling, laughing, and enjoying the night. For them, that ordinary scene contrasted cruelly with the storm they were facing. That human ignorance, frustrating as it was, was also a reminder of what they were fighting for: a world where those simple lives could continue without being devoured by the shadows.

  — What a beautiful night… —Max murmured in a faint voice, each word costing him effort.

  — Hold on, please… —Gabriel replied, gently pressing him against his side. His anguish was palpable.

  — Raían, can you speed up? —Laura asked, her voice tense with her friend’s growing weakness.

  — Got it —Raían answered, pressing the accelerator without hesitation.

  When they arrived at the park, a wide space adorned with ancient trees, wooden benches, and stone paths lit by lampposts, they made their way toward a central sculpture. The piece, made of polished copper, depicted a globe that reflected the lights like a shining beacon in the darkness.

  — And now? How do we get in? —Raían asked, frowning as he inspected the sculpture.

  — An official invitation is required —Melody replied, folding her arms, still doubtful of Cristina’s plans.

  — That’s true, but the door always opens for angels. Sofía and Gabriel, it’s your turn —Cristina said, nodding toward them.

  Gabriel and Sofía exchanged a glance and, with some hesitation, stepped toward the sculpture. Their reflections in the metal seemed to watch them with unsettling intensity. At last, they raised their hands and placed them on its surface.

  At once, the ground began to tremble. Behind them, golden roots burst forth from the earth, twisting and intertwining until they formed a majestic white tree. A luminous door appeared in its trunk, slowly opening, inviting them inside.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  — Doesn’t this attract human attention? —Raían asked, awed by the spectacle.

  — Humans can’t see this, incubus. We are witches; we know how to hide among the shadows —Melody replied with a proud smile as she crossed the threshold.

  — Is this an elevator? —Laura murmured, surprised by the inside of the tree, filled with golden light and an organic design that seemed alive.

  Without hesitation, they all stepped inside. The roots closed behind them, sealing the entrance, and the great white tree began to descend. With every inch of its descent, the ground vibrated, as if the planet itself were moving to make way for them.

  At last, the movement stopped. The roots slowly parted, forming a doorway that revealed a new world before them.

  Before their eyes unfolded a majestic town, hidden deep beneath the earth, like a secret kingdom carefully carved into the heart of the world. The main structures were made of black, gleaming rock, combined with enormous magical plants whose leaves shimmered in shades of purple and blue at the slightest touch, as if they breathed with a life of their own. The houses, irregular yet harmonious in shape, were adorned with ancient runes carved into their walls, pulsing with a faint, shifting glow, as if telling stories of ages past.

  Winding paths of white stone snaked between the buildings, guided by an energy that seemed to flow beneath their feet. Lanterns hung from the branches of magical trees whose bark looked like crystal, casting a soft light that bathed the entire place in a warm glow. In the main squares, large fountains of magical water bubbled in shades of blue and green, releasing a gentle murmur that filled the air with serenity.

  The artificial sky that covered the city was an endless, dark, vibrant canvas, speckled with purple, green, and pink lights that drifted gracefully, like living stars dancing to the rhythm of unseen magic. Each color seemed to pulse with its own life, drawing hypnotic patterns that turned it into a constantly moving work of art—a symphony of lights capturing the magical essence of the place. A fresh, earthy scent mingled with the sweet perfume of exotic flowers blooming in every corner, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.

  At the center of the city, a gigantic white tree rose like the beating heart of the place, its roots spreading like luminous veins across the ground and its branches seeming to hold up the celestial ceiling. Its imposing presence filled the air with an energy that blended mystery and majesty, making it clear that this was a sacred site—a refuge of power and wisdom where magic and nature intertwined in perfect harmony.

  Nervously, they walked along the great central avenue, filled with women dancing to mystical music, while beside them girls practiced magic. When the strangers’ presence was noticed, eyes turned toward them. They kept moving until they reached the great white tree, where the Witches’ Council resided. They were about to enter when Max collapsed into Gabriel’s arms. Seeing this, several witches hurried over.

  — Gods, what’s wrong with him? —asked a kind woman as she examined Max—. Oh no… demonic infection… —she said, looking at Max in surprise.

  — We’ll heal him. We have everything we need at the hospital, let’s go —the woman beside her said quickly.

  Without hesitation, Gabriel followed the witches as Laura helped him carry Max.

  — The first one noticed he’s a warlock —Cristina said, signaling for them to stay alert.

  — Is that a problem? —Sofía asked.

  — It depends on each of them. Some may see it as a wonderful curiosity, and others as a vile creation of God —Melody tried to reassure them with her usual honesty.

  — Should I go with them? —Sofía asked nervously, uneasy about letting them go alone.

  — No. Laura can protect them. We’re going to speak with the Witches’ Council —Cristina said, pointing toward the great tree.

  Their footsteps echoed softly through the immense hall hidden within the tree, a space that seemed alive, wrapped in a mystical glow. The walls and ceiling were covered in lush vegetation in deep shades of purple, whose flowers and leaves swayed gently with every current of air, as if whispering ancient secrets. At the center of the hall, a large white table, luminous like the moon, dominated the scene.

  Seated around the table were seven women, their faces veiled by a blend of wisdom and mystery. Their voices filled the air with a rhythmic murmur, like the echo of an ancient chant. However, upon sensing the presence of the newcomers, the words faded into silence, and their piercing gazes rose as one, saturating the atmosphere with tension charged with purpose and expectation.

  — Welcome, outsiders —said a woman with a terrifying, commanding presence and a look of complete distrust. This was Teresa Montsegur.

  — A demon? —The woman with wild red hair looked at Raían in confusion. She was the witch named Nísia Poveglia.

  — Witches’ Council, I am Cristina Collins, and we need to speak about someone you know—Sabine —Cristina said with a defiant stare.

  The seven women looked at one another, as if they could communicate without words. One of them moved her hand, and the great entrance door slammed shut.

  — Why would we speak of that with you? —said a woman with a firm gaze, noticing the tone of defiance in Cristina’s voice. This witch was named Isabella Mussara—. You come into our city making demands of us. I have killed witches for less.

  — Calm down, Isabella. Let’s hear what she wants to know —intervened a witch whose understanding gaze allowed Cristina to continue. Her name was Frida Kaluapapa.

  — Thank you, Frida… Paradise was attacked by Sabine. Ann Berht saved us, but she died doing so… —the seven witches’ expressions turned to fear—. Sabine said she wants to free DecHal, and she also told us a curious story —Cristina looked at them with contempt.

  — A curious story? —said a witch named Emmeline Stull.

  — She told us that the Witches’ Council and the Angelic Tribunal sent the Raven Clan to kill the daughter of Sabine and DecHal. I believed that to be impossible. There were treaties that forbade such an act, but then I saw Ann’s reaction. So I want you to tell me the truth—did you kill the princess of Hell? —Cristina showed no fear before them.

  Isabella, her eyes burning with hatred, thrust her hands toward the ground, summoning roots that lashed out and coiled furiously around Cristina, immobilizing her. Melody stepped forward, ready to attack, but Cristina raised a hand, stopping her.

  — Is this what you do? Silence those who dare to speak too much? —Cristina, motionless yet defiant, locked her gaze onto Isabella—. Your mind… is shattered. So many centuries of suffering have left your spirit broken, your strength turned into fragility.

  As she spoke, her words resonated with a strange echo, as if she were diving into Isabella’s memories, probing the fragments of her soul.

  — Insolent witch! —Isabella spat, her voice heavy with barely contained fury—. How dare you pry into my mind?

  Isabella’s patience had run out. Cristina, aware that the next attack would be lethal, slightly lifted her head, her gaze fixed on Isabella’s. An imperceptible whisper escaped her lips, and suddenly the witch of the Council dropped to her knees. Her eyes filled with tears that rolled silently down her cheeks as a deep, uncontrollable pain pierced through her. Isabella did not understand what was breaking her, but her rage turned into an inner storm, tearing her apart from within.

  — Enough! —Teresa’s shout split the air like thunder, reverberating through every corner of the place.

  With unquestionable authority, she raised both hands and recited in a low, firm tone.

  — Anulare magiam, exstinguere essentiam eius.

  The force of her words seemed to saturate the air, and an ethereal glow formed around Cristina, slowly extinguishing the aura of power surrounding her. Cristina’s magic faded away with a sigh, as if a flame had been smothered by a relentless wind. In the silence that followed, the echo of Teresa’s words continued to throb, an indelible warning to all present.

  — We are the Witches’ Council. Our mission is not to make witches happy, but to make the hard decisions so that the infernal realm remains under control. Girl, if you are alive, it is because of our decisions. You stand there judging us, but you are no different. You believe your mind is strong, but it is not. I have seen what you have done —Teresa stepped closer to Cristina—. Centuries of life have taught me that sometimes a child is nothing more than a future danger. We ensure that what could one day destroy us never comes to pass. That being was an aberration: half archaic witch and half archaic demon. If it had grown and developed its full power, the infernal, mortal, and celestial realms would have fallen at its feet…

  — How do you know that? —Raían raised his voice, noticing how the other six witches nearly killed him with their glares—. Maybe she wouldn’t have done it. DecHal was one of the kings of Hell who respected the treaties. He was never interested in the mortal realm…

  — We know because she was half demon. It doesn’t matter how much your kind wishes to belong to our world. You are corrupted. Your essence is evil, a blasphemous error of God. If we allow hybrids to live among humans, it is out of compassion, but I see that some do not understand their place —she snapped her fingers, and Raían dropped to his knees, frozen—. You are like wild dogs. We try to tame you to keep you under control, but there is always one that refuses… —Teresa knelt and lifted Raían’s chin—. Rebels must be sacrificed so they do not infect the others with their ideas.

  Sofía raised a hand with determination, and in a brilliant flash, her sword appeared in her grip, emanating an imposing aura of energy. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, placing herself between Raían and Teresa, her stance firm like an impenetrable shield. With the sword pointed directly at Teresa, her eyes sparkled with defiance, making it clear she was ready to face any threat.

  — Let him go, or you will regret it —Sofía said, determined to protect Raían.

  — An angel protecting a demon? —Frida stepped closer, looking at Sofía with curiosity—. Interesting, but you have no vote here —her hands touched the blade of the sword, and it began to melt. Those delicate hands radiated immense heat—. What’s wrong? Have you never seen elemental magic?

  The entrance door vibrated, and the seven witches of the Witches’ Council stared at it. A powerful gust of air blew it wide open. Max, healed and visibly furious, stood in the doorway.

  — Frange incantationem, libera animam.

  Max’s voice resounded like a powerful echo, filling the chamber with a force that seemed to rise from the very depths of his being. Each word vibrated in the air, charged with energy, shattering the invisible chains that bound Cristina’s magic.

  A flash of light crossed the space, and suddenly Cristina’s aura ignited again, intense and renewed. Raían, freed from his paralysis, stepped forward, feeling energy flow back through his body. Max’s spell had shifted the balance in an instant, restoring hope to the confrontation.

  — I’m tired. —Max’s voice carried a mix of fury and desperation as his steady steps brought him quickly closer to Teresa—. You were warned about Sabine a long time ago.

  His eyes, burning with anger, swept over the women before him, his presence as imposing as his tone.

  — You sit there, feeling powerful, untouchable, while the rest of us watch covens being massacred, watch Paradise crumble. You believe your actions are justified. Forgive my bluntness, but you ruined everything!

  With a single, brief movement of his hand, Max unleashed a burst of magic. The white table and the chairs occupied by the witches rose violently, slamming into the ceiling, where they remained stuck as if crushed there by an invisible weight. The crash filled the chamber, but Max did not falter.

  — You had a responsibility: to protect witches. Instead, you murdered one, and by doing so unleashed a wave of death you can’t even begin to count.

  His voice wavered slightly, but it did not lose its intensity.

  — Today I watched my boyfriend’s mother die. And the only thing pounding in my head was: where the hell is the Witches’ Council when it’s truly needed?

  His reproachful gaze seemed to pierce the defenses of Teresa and the others, leaving a heavy silence in the air, thick with guilt and defiance.

  Silence filled the chamber, not born of fear but of guilt. For the first time, the Witches’ Council felt the weight of its actions, and Max’s words exposed a reality they did not want to see. Not all of their decisions had been right. They had lived for centuries, but all that knowledge had not kept them from making countless mistakes.

  — You are Max Hotsson. Madame Liona told me you were powerful, but I didn’t imagine your mouth would be sharper than ours —Teresa said, her gaze showing that she now had her full attention. With a gesture, she signaled for him to lower the furniture.

  — Oh, of course —Max snapped his fingers, and the furniture fell back to the floor—. Sorry…

  — You and I will discuss all of this, alone, without magic—just words —Teresa said, pointing toward the exit.

  — All right.

  Max followed her, and both disappeared into the crowd surrounding the great tree. Gabriel watched them with a furrowed brow, concern etched across his face. He trusted none of those witches and could not shake the growing sense of unease.