Coven. The word made them laugh, but that is what they were, these three women.

These three women with their rosaries and their sensible shoes. A coven of nuns.

These three sisters had decades of experience between them, weaving and casting and binding.

Two had come to their calling early in life, as teenage novitiates. The third arrived much later, after years of experiencing a very, very different life.

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Posted by on October 9, 2018 in October 2018



A heavy mist, the moon rising, the sound of rushing water nearby. Maddie paused in the dark, listening, the dog at her heel.

The dog’s ears flicked forward, and Maddie followed him deeper into the darkness. She knew he’d heard something, but whatever it was hadn’t reached her yet. Go closer, be cautious, she knew both were necessary.

The dog lead her to a small stream and they followed it for several hundred yards, keeping to the tree line.

The stream emptied into a pool surrounded by large boulders, though some of the stones looked to Maddie as though they had been shaped by something other than nature. She crouched next to the dog and scanned the edge of the pool.

A movement on the far side caught her eye, and she tried to focus enough to make out the shape of whatever it was that had moved.

Before she could, everything went black.

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Posted by on October 8, 2018 in October 2018



She’d been given a new passport when she was 13, with a new name.

Wolf, it said. Madeleine Wolf.

Her education began among the wolves, though she didn’t know it at the time. The oldest of them, Valdyr, was something of a lord. He was fierce, but kind, and was immediately intensely protective of Maddie and her brother.

The children stayed there on Valdyr’s highlands estate for several months, learning to ride, being tutored in Italian and French, and beginning to understand the very basics of what their lives would be like.

And it was there that Maddie met the dog.

“You’ll soon leave here,” Valdyr told her. “He will accompany you on your journey and stay with you as long as you wish. He’ll be your protector and companion.”

“He’s terrifying,” Maddie answered. She’d never been fond of dogs.

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Posted by on October 7, 2018 in October 2018




The tools of the trade are kept in a leather satchel, carried always by the warrior.

A compass. Maps.

A passport. Sometimes, more than one.

Matches, and several small candles. In place of matches, some may carry flint.

A holy book, the origin of which is chosen by the warrior, though most traditionally choose those of the Abrahamic faiths.

A bit of quartz. Warriors will often choose those with healing or protective powers.

A packet of salt.

A pencil and a small notebook.

A tarot deck. One notable warrior carried a planchette, though none before or since have.

Maddie also carried a copy of the Constitution. Why leave anything to chance?


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Posted by on October 7, 2018 in October 2018



She liked boats and cars and planes. A decade in this business and these were the things with which she was comfortable.

She set her foot in the stirrup, hopped twice, and swung into the saddle, the leather creaking as she settled. She took up the reins in her right hand (her first riding instructor would be so disappointed in her) and urged the horse forward.

Night had begun to fall, the shadows turned inky black. She rode out toward the chapel where she knew she’d find Valdyr and his companions. She’d not sent word of her journey, but he’d know, and he’d welcome her request for sanctuary.

The first of his sentries, a dog as large as her unnamed familiar, fell in beside her as she rode within sight of the chapel. She knew him, and he her.

The second was there at the gate to the chapel yard. She dismounted, and the two sentries flanked her as she approached the chapel steps.

Hand on her dagger, she smiled to herself. Ten years in and she’d still not gotten used to the werewolves.

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Posted by on October 5, 2018 in October 2018



“You have to give him a name, Maddie.”

“If he has a name, I’m sure he’ll eventually tell me what it is. Giving him one is just presumptuous.”


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Posted by on October 4, 2018 in Uncategorized



The woman pointed to the stone hearth and Maddie sat, waiting for her to speak.

The space in the cottage was small, filled with any manner of things that would make it look as though it were the perfect Hollywood set as noted in a screenplay as “Int. Crone’s Cottage, night.” The only thing missing was the cauldron that should have hung over the flames in the open fireplace.

“Warrior child,” the woman said, and Maddie closed her eyes briefly. This woman was, perhaps, the only person in the world who still saw Maddie as a child.

“Warrior child, you’ve come a long way. What do you seek?”

“Grace,” Maddie said. “And peace. And hope.”

“These things. Are they lost?”

Maddie hesitated. “I hope not.”