The Witch's General

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales , or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Copyright © 2023 Inkblot Press All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Editing: Midnight Owl Editors Cover Design: Inkblot Press Published in Canada Paperback ISBN: 978-1-990156-29-8 Hardback ISBN: 978-1-990156-30-4 Ebook ISBN: 978-1-990156-28-1 Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Afterword Chapter One She would reach the Highwood Estate by twilight as long as the roads remained clear. The sun touched the mountain ridge to the west, a blush of pink painting the horizon as she watched. It was Netta’s first time leaving the Malik Coven since they’d taken her in as an orphan at the age of eight. Netta hadn’t wanted to leave, as the outside world held nothing for her, but she couldn’t refuse the honor of having been chosen to represent the Malik witches. They’d given her so much, and in return, she’d eagerly chosen to dedicate herself to them. Now was her chance to repay them. The Malik witches were known for their special connection to the spirit world, which gave them intimate knowledge of the world around them. They could feel a person’s intentions. Something Netta struggled with but she was sure during this assignment everything would fall into place. She grinned with impatience, making it difficult to sit still in her carriage seat. With the completion of this mission she would finally show her sisters that she was one of them. She shook her head. What an odd thought. Of course she was one of them. Netta touched the half-mask covering her eyes and nose. A year ago, she had taken her vows and officially became an initiate in an elaborate ritual that had involved burning the hair from her body and bathing in a mountain waterfall by moonlight. It had been the first step in giving her access to the knowledge of the spirit world, binding her to an intermediary, an animal spirit. Hers had come in the form of a crow. The black lacquered mask covering the upper half of her face shifted as the carriage rolled over a bump. Netta pushed it back in place, a finger trailing over the whirling ribbons that formed the crow visage. Over time, a Malik witch’s bond with her animal spirit strengthened, allowing an endless stream of communication. Yet, even after all this time, hers was often elusive. Its name was Cai, but little else it said made sense. She’d been assured this was normal, but as time dragged on and she barely made any progress, worry had begun to enter her teacher’s eyes. At least no one could deny her dedication. She just needed more time. Maybe a push. That was why she was being sent away. Hopefully, this would be all she needed to solidify her bond with Cai and finally become a Malik witch. Without it, she could never gain insight into a person’s innermost thoughts and intentions. It was precisely this bond that gave Malik witches their edge, especially in political negotiations and defense. Turning her thoughts to lighter things, Netta took stock of her belongings, reassuring herself that she had everything she needed. There were few things she owned herself. Her personal grimoire lay on top of her two plain dresses, beside a bristle brush. The brush was a new addition. Until recently, her strawberry-blond hair had been too short to warrant one. Now it fell in soft waves down to her chin. The coven had leant her an apothecary box of herbs, oils and a couple of sage and garlic bushels. One did not go into a Vampire House without at least the basic protections in place, even if one was invited. The carriage took a hard left and then traveled down the escarpment overlooking a valley surrounded by rolling grasslands that were quickly being taken over by thick forest. A river wound down from the distant mountain peak into a lake off to the right of the main building, and a gazebo sat not far from a footpath. What caught her eye was what she thought was a garden maze, somewhat overgrown. Her heart sped up as she considered how to use the land to educate and entertain the children she was here to tend. The youngest was eight, while the eldest, at seventeen, was only five years younger than Netta. There were three more between them, though she hadn’t been given their ages. Nor their names. That had been perplexing. She pulled out the letter that had been sent to their coven Crone, opening it to read once more. Dear Crone Gerene, I write to you as a last resort. For what vampire no matter their station would wish to expose weakness? My children require a governess, one learned in all that is expected of those in high society, and who on top of that has a quick wit and cunning, which my previous hires have lacked. I have five children between the ages of eight and seventeen, all in need of discipline and a firm, no-nonsense hand. My eldest will soon enter into society, and though I have kept her from trivial affairs until now, I no longer have an excuse. Please send whomever you believe to be best suited for the job, and I will provide them with a weekly wage, one day off per week,