Prologue

The spirited wind whipped through the willow trees branches on old Harris lane. The crows that forever lingered on these old statues were still and silent. The leaves that heralded Autumn's arrival jostled in the soil. The shabby mailboxes of this part of Salem swayed like drunken sailors, with old Mrs. Kilternoin's close to toppling. Silence. It was as the townspeople would aptly call it, the witching hour.

An idle crow, astute in the brambles, heard a rustle in the calmness, and felt the glow above it as a singular street-lamp ignited. Such things were un-natural for this area, the bird knew this well, for each lamp had blown out many a year ago, and never had been fixed. This area had been left alone by the people of Salem, it wasn't safe it wasn't...it wasn't a place that could be explained. Their was something in the air, something even the most unfeeling cynic could not ignore. Perhaps it was what turned so many away; it was simply a part of town that could not be explained. The old bird was drawn, like its brethren to lay keep in this place, and of course there were always messages and duties that took them here, night after night.

The bird then heard the quiet patter of footsteps as someone discreetly moved from around the corner and onto the street. The figure was tall, with a long knee-length coat that was buttoned up all the way to the neckline, and from the two pronged sounds of their movements the crow could tell the figure was a woman, wearing stilleto heels. It soon became apparent that a much smaller figure was tailing her, as obedient as a dog, but not one. The crow knew it must be a child. One of the more peculiar things about crows was their ability to sense magical presence. Most people who scoff at the truth of it, but crows thrived off the magic of mortals. Without it, they were just unintelligent beasts.

As the figure drew nearer to the crow, he could see its features dancing in its sliding vision. The woman had to be in her early thirties, though her face was beautiful. It was a kind of natural beauty, something that could only be tainted by the application of cosmetics. She wore glasses, rimmed in sparkling diamonds that scintillated in the moonlight. Her hair was tied back conservatively, and her brow was furled in a rather annoyed manner. Her petite companion was indeed a young child, that couldn't be older than four or five. The child was female as well, though whether the two were related was indiscernible. All the same, the child held a similar expression upon her pale face.

"When are we going to be there Aunty Angelica(That solved that matter, thought the crow)? I'm cold, and I don't like this place very much. Its got too many birds."

Aunty Angelica looked down at the child with a mixture of disgust and…was it pity? She did not answer, but pulled her niece along at a faster pace.

"Who are we going to see aunty? Is it papa? I miss papa. You never let me see him anymore. Was that him on the pelephone this morning? Why won't you let me see him? I wanna see papa!!!" she shouted the last phrase most emphatically this time, and Angelica stopped in her tracks.

"How dare you. You ungrateful little brat. Do you know what I have done for you? What I am risking in taking you away tonight? How dare you screech at me like that!" She was fuming now, her face contorted in an unnecessary rage for someone talking to a four-year-old. Perhaps the child's sudden cowering altered to this fact, because she let go of the child's arm and took a few deep breaths.

"Iramia. My dear, I was not trying to frighten you. Please, please understand. I am very frightened by this all. Your papa, your papa is not well. In fact," she pauses at this point and looks around quickly, "he is very very sick. I can not take care of you here in Salem anymore. The Council of Witches; that big group your mama and I were part of, remember? They are very angry with your papa, and I know that for your own safety, for your own growing up, you need to go away. Very far away from all of this. It will blow over soon, I'm sure of it."

Iramia looked at Angelica for a few more minutes, before nodding, and walking forward. Perhaps she was very intelligent, or perhaps she just wasn't up to fighting anymore, but the girl looked complacent with this explanation of things. Angelica was pleased, and the two strode down the road in silence again.

Rush. Air flowing everywhere. Darkness thickens.

From the clouds above first burst specks, peculiar dots in a bleak scape. Angelica stares at them, with a look of nostalgia and jealousy. But as they soared down to the couple who they were became clear in an instant. Aloft seven brooms of the sleekest oak and dressed in a range of suits from high ranking professions were seven awe-inspiring women. All were Angelica's age, but they were elegant goddesses of beauty; flawless. They were tall, and had athletic and slim figures. Each dismounted their broom as if coming off a champion horse, and dusted themselves off. The closest to Iramia and Angelica laughed loudly at the skies and shook her head.

"Who would have thought we would have such beautiful weather for a kidnapping, eh Angie?" her voice was crisp but light hearted. Angelica and her shook hands and Angelica leaned in with a whisper and said,

"Apollo called last night. Junipera, he…he knows something is up. Whether he know about Cassandra's prophecy is beyond me, but….but take care when you go." Junipera didn't drop her grin

"I'm going not as the crow flies, but via Greenland with Nabuna. Unitera and Magisleniva will go up through France, and Hatyali, Aphrolidia, and Nevora will fly straight and true. It will be a diversion if there ever was one. She bent down, again most eloquently, and shook Iramia's little hand.

"Are you ready?"

Iramia stared at each witch in turn, sizing them up in her own little way, then turned back to the one in front of her, who was smiling. Angelica squeezed her hand. "It's ok Ira, these women will take good care of you." She looked at Junipera with a long insightful expression, sharing unspoken words of thanks that each other understood clearly. Iramia took one more look at her Aunt then said, "Uh, uhhuh."

The witches remounted, and Angelica lifted her niece, the niece she had cared for for three long years, onto her oldest friend's lap. She had let her guard down for a moment, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. She turned away, not letting her fellow witches see her in such weakness. She turned back to see that all except Junipera and the African princess Nabuna were in flight.

"Good bye dear friend. We shall see each other again Hekate willing." She rose her wand and pointed it at Angelica's head.

"Obliviate!"

Head raised to the sky, Nabuna and herself let out a cackle, and took off, destined for an isle far off in the darkness.

The crow mused over the events he just witnessed for a moment, then did something the birds of death rarely did. It smiled. Then it turned on its tail feathers and flew north, back to the mansion of its master, who would be very pleased to learn that the daughter of Apollo Styx was being snatched away under the Dark master's nose and into the night.

End of Prologue.