Quinn bit her lip as she followed Rachel through the shop. She's been told very little about Holly and has never gotten the chance to meet her, but she has been Rachel's teacher for years, and according to Rachel, very skilled. Quinn breathed deeply to quell her twisting stomach. They walked past four aisles before reaching the stockroom. Rachel unlocked it and they were surrounded by familiar rows of bottled herbs, potions, books, candles, and petrified animals in jars. At the far end of the room was another door, black and made of metal with a white pentagram painted on it. Quinn had been in the storeroom enough times to have noticed the door before, she'd always thought it went o an office or employee restroom. Rachel placed the tip of her finger on the point of the star and traced it. She whispered a few words in Latin and the mark glowed. The door clicked and swung open. The room it revealed was bare with exposed planks of wood and tools strewn along the floor. There wasn't a single window and from the looks of it no door either. When Quinn looked closer, she realized sigils and symbols decorated the walls.
"The symbols are to keep demons, ghost, and vampires out," Rachel said.
"It's a safe room," Quinn said, astonished.
"Ms. Holiday insisted we make one as a precaution in case we're ever attacked," Rachel said. "It isn't finished yet, as this used to be a spare bedroom on the second floor, but she wants to have the walls covered in four inches of steel with a silver coating and a camera system installed."
"She lives here?" Quinn asked.
"She's inherited many things through the years from her relatives and ancestors. She's on the fourth floor, probably in her study," Rachel said.
"Wait, how big is this place?"
"There are five floors," Rachel answered.
"How is this all in your store? It's a one story building," Quinn questioned.
"Magic," Rachel chuckled. "That, and we're technically on another universe, but don't worry, Ms. Holiday has plenty of experience with alternate planes. More than enough to ensure we're not going to collapse into a wormhole."
"Is that possible?" Quinn gasped.
"Like I said, we're safe," Rachel coaxed. "I've been through here plenty of times. We better get going."
Rachel walked over to a sigil and pressed her hand in the center of the circle and a piece of the wall lifted, revealing a door. They stepped into a hall of polished oak wood and deep rich burgundy carpets lit by small chandlers. They rounded a corner where the hall opened into a foyer with a marble grand staircase. Atop the stairs was beautiful stained glass windows that radiated the sun's light in a kaleidoscope of colors.
"She lives in here?" Quinn asked as Rachel led her up the stairs, "It's like a Tudor mansion."
"It's a replica, with modern amenities, but it's real nonetheless," Rachel said. "I sleep here when I have to head to a play the next day after my shift."
"We're not going to walk up five flights are we?" Quinn asked.
"Luckily, no, the elevator is working today," Rachel said calling the elevator to them.
The elevator dinged before it opened and the sign above lit at the number four. They walked down two hallways before stopping at at a white door and Rachel ushered Quinn in. The room had two levels where the space below the balcony had a comfortable looking lounge area, with couches, a table, book shelves, and a fireplace with a TV mounted above it. The door on the balcony opened and a woman with blonde hair appeared wearing a what looked to be a period accurate dress, large elaborate ruff included.
"Rachel!" she exclaimed, picking up her skirt and scuttling down the steps.
She pulled Rachel into a hug who seemed to take the woman's attire in stride before she turned to Quinn.
"Hi, Holly Holiday. You must be Quinn," Holly said.
Quinn nodded, still drawn to the gown.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," Holly said, "we have so much to talk about."
She turned toward the stairs and carefully put a foot on the first steps. She groaned and stepped back down.
"This thing is a lot more restrictive than I thought it would be," Holly grumbled.
She glided a hand down her neck and the entire dress morphed into a t-shirt with jeans. She let out a relieved sigh as she brushed her hands over her jeans.
"Mr. Norman wanted an authentic costume for his coming birthday, but I don't think I'll be wearing that again," Holly said. "Oh, he wants to know if you'll come this time, Rachel."
"Yes, I'll be free this year," she said.
Holly nodded and climbed up the steps, leaving a stunned Quinn behind.
"Well, where do we begin?" Holly sighed looking back as Quinn scurried to catch up.
She opened her study. A desk stood in the center with a small couch and a table to the right and six foot shelves overflowing with books and ingredients. Holly stood by the window.
"Let's start with this," she said and gestured outside.
Quinn joined her and looked out into the distance to see a bustling town below her feet. Just outside the manor gate were people dressed in modern clothing coming and going from stores. The stores' signs said they sold cauldrons, ingredients, potions, books. An endless row of buildings related to Wicca practices.
"What is this?" Quinn asked, getting a little overwhelmed.
"This is what witches created to live in peace," Holly said. "There's always been some danger of human fear. As I'm sure you're aware, around the 15th century Europe began to pursue their witch hunts in earnest. The same ways of thinking and fears traveled with them a century later and led to the Salem witch trials."
"The remaining witches chose to make a home on another plane?" Quinn asked.
"It was the only way to be safe and carry on our practices, beliefs, and lineage," Holly answered. "Those who chose not to were killed or forced to give up or hide their practices."
"We have a long history," Rachel added, "with many years of struggle."
Holly turned to her, a finger rested on her chin, studying Quinn.
"You know what I found so interesting about you?" she asked not waiting for an Quinn to respond before answering. "Rachel told me that you are self-taught. Now, a spell is a combination of chemistry and ritual. You can get the ingredients right, but the odds of getting the ritual perfectly without someone to help teach you is nearly impossible. Unless, it's in your genes. That means that your mother must be a witch."
"My mother is an ordinary person," Quinn said.
Holly nodded.
"And that is what you would think, but it's the only way you'd have the powers you have. Magic is very much a 'use it or lose it thing', if it isn't practiced, then, over time your family will lose the ability to use it," she explained. "Your mother's maternal ancestry must have been one of the few to survive years ago, but at a cost, and could no longer practice, yet here you are with the ability to make spells on your own."
"Years ago, my great great grandfather, yes, on my mother's side, was under attack from some hunters," Quinn said, "they were forced into hiding and met a pack of wolves. Those werewolves had lost their home and were being hunted, nearly into extinction. He took them in and in return they made a pact with my family. They were to always protect us from then on."
Holly looked intrigued.
"A pack that swore an oath to protect your lineage?" she asked, though it was said more as a comment before a smile spread easily. "That's a first for me. You're a lot more interesting than I thought you'd be. Stay for dinner."
They took the elevator down to the second floor. They entered one of the bedrooms out of the dozen that were down the hallway. The room was spacious enough for a bed, lounge couches, book shelves, a small desk set in front of a window, and a TV mounted in front of the couches, though it was much smaller than Holly's study.
"This is where I give private lessons to my students," Holly said, approaching a bookshelf. "Unfortunately, dinner won't be ready for three hours, but it gives us enough time for you to take your test."
"Test?" Quinn repeated.
Holly nodded, and picked up a small cauldron from the shelf. Rachel rushed to the second shelf and picked up a stack of books. They placed their items on top of the coffee table.
"Mhm," Holly said, "I need to give you a few tests to find out what your current power level is. Is there anything you want to tell me before we start?"
Quinn was quiet a moment, "My results to the spells I cast are... inconsistent."
Holly hummed and gave a short nod. She went back to the shelf and gathered a handful of bottles to put next to the cauldron.
"That's common for a witch in training, and I would expect it from you, being self-taught," Holly said. "The way Rachel puts it you have a lot of potential. Even more so than herself and I've been teaching Rachel since she was 15. The more you practice the more power a witch can draw to themselves, however, some are born with much easier access than others."
She waved Quinn over to the table. She picked up a bottle, looking over the herb and set it back down to pick up another that held a flower inside. She dashed some of the dry plant into the pot. Rachel handed her a small glass bottle of blue liquid which she poured it into the cauldron. Holly was given a spoon and mixed the ingredients before Rachel handed her an empty bottle. The liquid was ladled into the bottle and capped.
"This is a levitation potion," Holly said. "Throw it on whatever you'd like to lift. It'll let me gauge how much power you have by how you effect the object."
Quinn looked over the blue liquid filled bottle and back at Holly who nodded encouragingly at her.
"Don't worry, everything in here can be replaced," Holly said.
Quinn took a deep breath. She squeezed the bottle, hoping it would push away the heat coiling in the center of her stomach. She scanned the room and settled on a vase of flowers beside the couch. It seemed like it would be less expensive and was much smaller than most of the other objects around the room. She steadily tread toward the end-table, taking deep breaths as she came closer. She chucked the bottle and watched it smash to pieces and cover the vase in its blue liquid. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the vase soared across the room, nearly hitting Holly had she not ducked, and it smashed into the wall behind her. Holly gave her a nod of approval unaffected from the spell.
"Well, you definitely have more power than the average beginner, that much is sure," Holly said. "That test isn't enough, though."
"I just nearly killed you," Quinn said, "how is that not enough?"
"I know you aren't properly trained, that was bound to happen," Holly explained. "I do know you need to practice more and learn to focus your powers. Basically, that just confirmed what Rachel has been telling me, you're very powerful."
Quinn nodded, frowning as she joined Holly back at the desk. Holly placed a white candle on the desk.
"This is a little more advanced. I want you to light the candle using your powers," Holly said. "Think of the flame, heat, embers, focus all your energy on giving life to the spark. When you're ready touch the wick."
Quinn stared at the candle. She's only ever used spells with the use of ingredients, she didn't even know it was possible to cast magic purely out of sheer will. She squinted, glaring at the wick and touched the candle. It remained unlit. She groaned.
"It isn't going to work," Quinn sighed.
"Give it some time," Holly said, "this takes a lot of concentration, you need to think about nothing but the candle and the flame."
Quinn slowly inhaled, her gaze softening. She examined the candle, waxy white in color topped by an equally white wick. She bit her bottom lip, growing more frustrated the longer she didn't see a flame. Her brows pressed together and Quinn clenched her jaw. A jet of fire shot up from the candle and she stumbled back. The flame grew, increasing in heat and instantly melted the candle. The fire spread, flowing over the wax and starting to eat into the table as smoke started to fill the room.
"Oh, that's not supposed to happen," Holly said.
Rachel gasped, stepping away from the desk.
"Miss Holiday," she called, reminding her mentor to act.
Holly lifted her hand and a stream of water shot out from the middle of her palm to quell the blaze, causing the desk to sizzle and the smoke to dissipate. The looked over the damage of the flames, the wood charred in the center with the strong smell of burning wood in the room. Holly gave another curt nod.
"You're definitely at a much higher level than average," she said mostly to herself before turning to address Quinn. "This is amazing! What was your mother's maiden name?"
Quinn gulped, "That's all you have say to that? I almost burned everything down and killed both of you this time!"
Holly laughed.
"You did not, everything was under control," she said. "The desk can easily be replaced. You're the training of a novice and a ridiculous power level. Accidents are going to happen, and that's okay."
Holly left the room with Rachel by her side. Leaving Quinn to gather her thoughts before following them down the hall. They entered another room, it held several chairs around a table and all three of the four walls had built-in floor to ceiling shelves, filled to the top with books. Holly and Rachel both traced the walls of books.
"I asked about your mother because only women can inherit their power," Holly said. "There are male witches, but they're not like you, where the power is just there. They aren't born, they train themselves to feel the magic and teach themselves the rituals. Anyone can learn magic. There are those who practice it for years and will only ever reach a fraction of what you just displayed."
"I found it," Rachel said, presenting Holly with a purple leather bound text, that was as thick as two encyclopedias. Holly set the heavy tome on the table and flipped open the cover. Quinn let her curiosity lead her and she followed the women to see what the book contained.
"This is a record of all the witches registered from the 14th century to the present," Holly said. "It's a log that the head witch keeps in town, but I have quite a few connections and have my own copy," she turned to Quinn. "Maiden name?"
"Williams... But, it was Treadue back when my family first met the wolves."
Holly rapidly flipped through the pages. She ran the tip of her finger down the page and walked over to an end table.
"Here it is," she said, "you have quite the lineage."
Quinn peered down on to the book. It's pages were lined with hundreds of curling cursive signatures in simple black ink.
"It just has names," Quinn said.
"You weren't raised in our community, but every name has a reputation," Holly said. "Your great great grandmother was a high priestess. That's the highest rank witches have and she is a descendant of a pure blood witch from long before we started recording this book."
"So my mother must have known," Quinn murmured in realization.
Holly nodded.
"What does this mean?"
"Your potential is infinite, power levels others can only dream of," Holly said. "But, you have to be careful. You know the whole responsibility cliché. I'm also concerned that others will try to use you if news of you gets out."
Quinn stepped aside, fear seeping through her chest. She deeply inhaled and placed a hand over her racing heart. How could she have such power but lack the ability to control it? It was beyond dangerous to allow herself to remain untrained with the amount of power she just displayed, but joining this new world meant a new risk. That she might be discovered and used. Her life and Santana's would always be at risk. The thought left her breathless. Rachel approached her, placing a comforting hand on her arm.
"Are you okay?" she asked gently.
Quinn licked her bottom lip before biting it and and sighed.
"Yeah, I...this is a lot of information, a lot to take in," Quinn said.
"I understand," Rachel agreed, "But, I can assure you, that with you under Ms. Holiday's care you can learn to control your powers."
"I'm sorry I have to go," Quinn said abruptly.
"Alrighty, then, it was nice to meet you, Quinn," Holly said. "Don't hesitate to call me if anything happens. Rachel will led you out."
"Can we talk?"
Santana could see the stress in Quinn's eyes.
"Yeah, of course, " she said, leading Quinn toward the stockroom.
Her friends continued to talk and drink among each other. Santana closed the door and joined Quinn at a crate of stacked wine. She crossed her arms and rubbed the sides of her biceps. Santana felt a flush of concern settle in her stomach.
"Is something wrong?" Santana asked, gently prodding Quinn to open up.
Quinn paused, her gaze shifting to a set of boxes across the room, close to the door then back at Santana.
"You means besides me almost burning down Holly's home?" Quinn asked.
Santana stepped back, her jaw clenched.
"What? Okay, I need you to elaborate on that a little more, babe."
"I saw Rachel's teacher today," she said. "After the spell Rachel insisted I see her, so I went. She gave me a few tests. The the first was a levitation potion, that one I nearly took Holly's head. The last one was supposed to be a simple fire spell..."
"And you nearly barbecued her and Rachel alive?" Santana guessed, finishing Quinn's story for her. Quinn nodded. "I'm going to assume they're still alive."
"Yes,"
"Then what's the issue?" Santana said.
"San, this is serious," Quinn said. "Both of those spells were for beginners, but I nearly killed them with the level of power I radiated because I have no control over it."
Santana pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. She watched Quinn's shoulders relax and drop in relief as she settled into her arms. Santana brushed a finger through her bangs.
"I get it. It's terrifying," she said. "And, yeah, you could have seriously hurt someone, but you didn't, things worked out fine, and now you have Holly to help you."
Quinn clenched and unclenched her fists in Santana's shirt.
"There's more," she said. "I'm a witch because of my mother and the women before her were witches."
"You mean your conservative mother, Judy? Who would've guessed?"
"Witches have a long history of being hunted, so my family went into hiding. According to the record Holly showed me our line descends from a relative of the first witch," Quinn sighed.
"A head honcho type of woman?" Santana asked.
"And I hold stronger powers that others might want to take or use me for," Quinn said.
Santana placed her hands on to Quinn's hips.
"You're safe here, with us, with me. Do you really think that I or any of our friend would ever let anything happen to you?" Santana assured. "And, we'll deal with this together. I know you'll practice and do great with Holly and you'll learn to control it."
"But, we're in danger," Quinn said.
Santana chuckled.
"I'm a werewolf, we're always in a little danger," Santana said. "And this is no different. We will deal with it together, I promise."
Quinn sighed and tucked her head under Santana's chin. Santana felt her shoulders drop again and Santana stroked her hair, holding her until her breathing settled, only for her to flinch when Quinn's phone toned, telling them Quinn had a new message.
Sighing tiredly, Quinn reached for the guilty piece of technology. Giving it a disappointed guilty frown when she read the message and wearily pulling herself from Santana's arms.
"What is it now?" Santana asked following Quinn back out towards their friends.
"It's a reminder of our train tickets,"
Santana sighed, "With everything that's been happening the last few days, I forgot about that. I'm not really sure that we should be leaving town right now."
"I know, me too," Quinn said sadly. "I was really looking forward to visiting our parents."
Jake clears his throat, suddenly right next to them. "You should go, there's not really anything we can do here right now. We've hit a dead end for now and all we can do is ask around some more to see if anyone else is willing to tell us anything. And, you know, we can cover that without you. No offense, Santana, but you're looking a bit worn down. Down time with your family will be a good thing for you."
Santana looked like she was going to argue for a moment, but looked to Quinn. Met with an adorably hopeful look from her fiance she smiled, "Looks like we're heading home for the weekend." Turning back to Jake, "But, you have to call me the moment you guys find anything out."
Jake held his hands up in surrender, "I promise, we'll keep you in the loop."
