Enchanted Bonds: The High Council Witch Chronicles

By Julie Catherine

When the new admission season begins, Ferris Bean discovers becoming a sorceress in the High Council Witches coven is not as simple as it seems. Violent windstorms, heartless kidnappers, involuntary strip-teases and a handsome neighbor with a mysterious family history all swirl into her life with the rising of the new moon.

 

But who is the guy next door? She's lived next to Ethan Grady her whole life, but he's still a mystery. Dramatic visions, break-outs from prisons, and midnight encounters. Is he just another local boy, or is there potential for something more?

 

As the paranormal bonding season expires, Ferris must quickly decide who's her friend and who's her foe before she's stripped of more than just her clothes and her chance to become a powerful witch is stolen forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GCMW Publications
• Release date: Mar 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781778123900

Book preview

ONE

A SPECIAL MORNING

Ferris?

My sister’s voice floated into my dreams and popped every bubble. I refused to open my eyes, but my breathing cycle changed, signaling my stirring. The gig was up. I was awake. Kinsey waited, her stare boring holes in my side.

What? I finally asked without opening my eyes. 

I couldn’t sleep, she admitted. 

So you thought you’d come and wake me? It’s like four a.m.

It’s eight.

That’s not better. I rolled away from her. 

Aren’t you curious? she wondered. She crawled into my bed without an invitation.

No, I complained, but I moved over for her to have enough room. I’m sleeping. 

It was no use. We both knew any hope of drifting back to dreamland had vanished. I could feel her little body beside me, eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling. I could practically hear the thoughts whirring around in her head.

I sighed.

There would be no final sleep-in this morning. My last day of summer and we were up at the daybreak.

I kept my back to Kinsey, but conceded open eyes. They felt heavy with the crud of sleep and leftover mascara. I swiped the corners of my lashes to clear them, a sloppy finger dragging through, then refocused on the darkened room. There was a crack of sunlight coming through the bottom of the blinds over my bedroom window. It looked like a nice day outside. I frowned and looked away from the exterior light. My bedroom nightstand slowly came into view. My eyes adjusted and landed on familiar bits and pieces, like my jewelry bowl carrying the four delicate rings that I wore every day, the peppermint candle I liked to burn on nights I had trouble sleeping, my journal (I was lucky to have the kind of family where your bed was fair game, but private thoughts were yours to keep), and of course the digital alarm clock. I hadn’t set it today in hopes of a late, sleepy morning. But now those hopes were out of reach. 

I stretched to straighten the clock. 

Kins, it’s 7:21. Not eight. 

I know. She cuddled into my back. I thought you might have wanted a sleep-in. 

I did. I pulled my pillow over my head to black her out. 

But it’s the first day of you-know-what, Kinsey whispered. 

Like I needed reminding. 

"The moon was so big. The full new moon. You know what that means…"

I know, I grumbled. Don’t let Mom hear you.

Hear what? Mom poked her head in the doorway. 

Nothing, Kinsey said just a bit too quickly. 

I didn’t move, my head still buried like an ostrich. This wasn’t my battle. I could feel Mom taking in the scene. Me heroically trying to stay sleeping, Kinsey whispering her excited hopes in my ear. She was also well aware of the date on the calendar. 

Leave her be, Kinsey. 

I didn’t do anything!  

Even hidden away, I could sense Mom’s head tilt and the slow build of her frown. Maybe a raised eyebrow too.

Classic.

Fine, Kinsey gave in. 

Mom moved on. She shuffled from the doorway, down the stairs. Probably to make coffee. Dad would have prepped the machine before he left for work. I wished I liked the taste. They always seemed so blissed out as they took their first sips, gulping down those first drops of the piping hot liquid. It was so relaxing they both let out an involuntary ahhh.

Of course, her departure didn’t help my situation. 

Since Mom was out, Kinsey lost her incentive to leave, or even drop the topic. But, I didn’t really mind. There really was no way I could fall back asleep now. 

We readjusted on the bed. 

I flopped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, fully awake but unwilling to admit the day was starting. Kinsey turned on her side, away from the door, and gave all her attention to me, staring intently at my shoulder and cheek. Even with my eyes firmly aimed above us, I could feel her curious eyes. 

What? I deadpanned.

Do you feel any different? 

I feel annoyed. 

I’m serious, Fair-bear. Her voice grew pouty. 

I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. I didn’t mean to do anything. It wasn’t even eight in the morning. Kins, there’s no guarantee anything is happening. This might not even be my year, I warned her. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. 

They’re not. 

I rolled in her direction, looked her right in the eye and raised both eyebrows in disbelief. A mini-Mom frown. 

She giggled. "Okay. They’re up. A little. But it’s not my fault. It’s not everyday your older sister joins the secret, magical realm of High Council in this sleepy little town."

TWO

A SEAT ON THE PORCH

I haven’t joined anything… yet, I reminded Kinsey over breakfast. Nothing’s different. For me, the menu consisted of homemade granola sprinkled over coconut yogurt, for her, a sweet candy toaster tart. 

Mphfff. She answered, her mouth full of sugar.

Ugh, Kins. That stuff will kill you. 

What? No. It’s strawberry. And don’t change the subject. Everything’s already different! She exclaimed. You’re about to learn how to manage your witch powers. She threw air quotes around the word witch. You’ll have training. You’ll learn to harness. You’ll get stronger. But you have to practice. Check it out. Kinsey shoved the rest of the sugar pastry into her mouth and lowered her hands to her sides. Cheeks full, she concentrated on the standing water in the pot in the sink. It shuddered. She opened her palms wide and the water began spinning, counter-clockwise in the dish, slowly at first, then picking up speed. She stared into the spinning water. Slowly, the liquid started to rise. As it grew out of the pot, it began to spin wider, moving beyond the saucepan and growing to the size of the basin. 

I raised an eyebrow, annoyed. She was getting better at this. You’re not supposed to- But Mom cut me off. 

What did I say about craft in the kitchen? She frowned at us both. 

I didn’t do anything, I complained. 

Kinsey released her hands and the water sloshed back into the pot. I wasn’t-

Save it. She frowned. I’m old, not blind. Why don’t you girls come join me? She poured herself another cup of coffee and made her way back out to the chairs on the porch where she spent most mornings curled up to enjoy the view, before the fall and winter snatched away our outdoor living room.

Did I look impressed? I whispered to Kinsey. Cuz if I did, that was an illusion, I teased, adding a sing-song to the final word. 

Illusion. 

Kinsey frowned. No fair. You get away with everything.

Well, yeah. That’s kinda the point. 

Our specialities in witchcraft differed. 

The witches in town fell into four categories. There were the dreamcasts, like Mom, who dreamt with foresight of the future in vivid but sometimes complicated visions. There were chemists, who understood the chemical balance and imbalance of science and nature. Chemists could whip up reactions and results with all sorts of elixirs and potions. After them, there were empaths. Empaths could harness elements in nature, or sometimes talk to animals. They could move things or address things in the physical world in ways that seemed to bend the laws of science. Lastly, there were lie-guards, the master illusionists. A lie-guard could conjure up any grand illusion and make an unsuspecting human believe that it was real. Whatever they built appeared as true… as long as someone believed it. The trick was to master the details. 

I was the latter. 

A lie-guard. A master illusionist. 

Or, I would be, once I’d finished my training. 

We were never supposed to flex our magic in public. A rule I obeyed, even if Kinsey didn’t.

We dropped our breakfast dishes in the sink and followed Mom out onto the porch. Dad, even on a Sunday, had already left for work. The long gravel road we called a driveway was down to one car. He commuted over an hour into the city practically every day, while his ladies relaxed over summer mornings, sitting on the family’s wrap-around porch. That’s how we spent our days, enjoying the farmland, at least we would until the start of school. Which this year, would begin tomorrow, meaning we should make today count. 

Mom worked from the home office in her attic. She’d spend an hour or two enjoying a morning coffee in our company, then it was off to work for her too. I could hear her all day on high-powered phone calls with who knows who about whatever junk. She liked to pace as she talked, a habit I’d picked up as well. But unlike Dad, she didn’t work on the weekends. 

One needs to set proper boundaries, she used to joke. 

But she never stopped Dad from working.

I loved these mornings just the ladies. I think she did, too.

We weren’t supposed to talk about it; the craft, or High Council, or parabonding, or any details. It was a secret of the family that was forbidden from mention, even in Dad’s presence. But sometimes, with just the three of us, Mom let the conversation sneak into the territory of all things magic. When there was no one to overhear things, when it was just the three of us, a mama bear and her two little cubs, she sometimes acknowledged there were things about the world of witchcraft that Kinsey and I might need to know. Things that only our mother could tell us. 

After all, Plumpkin wasn’t a regular town. 

It was home to the High Council. 

The Witches High Council. 

A collective of spell-casters that trained future chemists, dreamcasts, lie-guards and empaths at a formal school. It was all super hush, but there were plenty of whispers in town. After all, we weren’t the only kids with strange powers in the town’s tiny population. Far from it. Parents of would-be applicants gathered their families in the town’s borders in hopes their kids would be selected for the training at the High Council. It was the aspiration of a lot of families.

But, not everyone would get in. High Council’s enrollment class each season was small. Tiny. The fates hand-picked kids through a process called parabonding.

It was a supernatural partnership that was totally out of your control.

Every year, in the first two weeks of the harvest season, when the new moon appeared full, the parabond season would begin. Potential girl witches would lose an item precious to their heritage and fated boys would find their special objects and bring them safely back to the girls once again, then the transaction was complete. At the end of lost and found, their bond was sealed.

Their parabond.

A match made forever. 

It was kind of a big deal.

Who do you think you’ll partner with? Kinsey asked. 

I glanced at Mom, but she didn’t shut the conversation down. Instead she was watching me.

Dunno. I said, kicking my feet up to make the swing move. I had plopped down next to Mom. Kinsey chose to lean against a beam, her butt resting on the rustic plank floor. No clue.

Maybe it’s Dogpatch McEnpine. Kinsey giggled. 

What? No. I shook