Obediently, Cora traipsed after her aunts.

The two older women seemed to float down the walkway. More phantom than female. As they glided past each door, a flash of light greeted them from the cracks around each door frame. Cora didn't notice it at first, but her aunts seemed to grow lovelier and lovelier the further they wandered into this never ending abyss of doors, doors, and more doors.

She, on the other hand, was beginning to feel a bit faint and breathless. Cora's eyes grew heavy as she dreamed of climbing back into her bed for a nice long nap. The three of them finally stopped in front of a large chestnut door with a strange symbol on it: A circle with a cross inside. It appeared to have been scorched into the wood with some kind of branding iron.

"Aunt Mathilde, what is this place? Where are we?" Cora asked in wonder.

Brimming with the youth and vitality of a much younger woman, Aunt Mathilde smiled. "We are in the In Between. It's a magical place where the laws of the mortal realm don't apply."

Her slender pale face was smooth and taut. Flawless like a porcelain doll. And her jet black hair gleamed like obsidian in the flickering lights. The exact shade of a black widow spider.

"The In Between?" Cora repeated. Her skin turned white as the blood drained from her face. "Oh dear! Did you die? Did I die? Are we dead?"

Aunt Amelia laughed. It was a light and airy sound. Like windchimes and clinking wine glasses. "Silly girl! Don't worry your foolish little head. We're most certainly not dead. But I supposed we can't claim to be mortal, either."

Luscious auburn curls tumbled around Aunt Amelia's pretty face. Her skin glowed sweetly. Pure peaches and cream. Curves spilled from her bosom and buttocks only to be snipped in at her tiny waist. She was the spitting image of an hourglass.

"I don't understand," Cora said helplessly. She tilted her head in utter confusion. "What you're saying sounds almost sacrilegious..."

"It is true. Some may call it that! We have been called witches many times among the world of men," Aunt Mathilde muttered with disdain. "But, really, we're simply disciples of the craft. Humble descendents of the greats. Athena, Artemis, and Aphrodite. There's nothing wrong or wicked about us."

"Then... am I a witch, too?" Cora inquired.

"Please don't use that repulsive word again, Cora dear," Aunt Amelia admonished gently. "We much prefer the term 'weaver.' And, yes, you're indeed one of us. You wouldn't have been able to cross the threshold without the blood of Athena running through your veins."

Cora stumbled backwards as the weight of her aunt's words washed over her. "May I ask, were my parents wi—I mean, weavers as well?"

Aunt Mathilde scoffed haughtily. "Ugh! Your mother was as human as human can be. Your father, however, was undoubtedly a descendent of ours. Unfortunately, most males of our kind aren't privy to the goddess' gifts. The blood remains dormant in them for the most part. I suppose they must exist in order to pass along the blood to their daughters. Otherwise, they're rather good for nothing—if you ask me!"

"Do you know, then, what happened to my parents?" Cora asked eagerly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, my dear," Aunt Amelia cooed, "your parents' disappearance remains as much of a mystery to us as it has been for everyone else! Perhaps you could help us find them. Right here. The In Between holds answers that can't be found anywhere else."

Cora's eyes shone brightly. "Truly? You think I could find them here?"

Aunt Mathilde snorted as she tossed her sister a knowing look. "Of course, child! Why ever not? Luna and Noctis are probably running amuck somewhere behind one of these doors as well. If you listen well and do as we say, our whole family may be reunited before the week's end!"

Cora beamed. "Tell me, Aunt Mathilde. Aunt Amelia. What must I do?"

"It's very simple, actually," Aunt Amelia replied. "The In Between is, erm... somewhat out of sorts, if you will. The slightest imbalance here can cause much chaos in the world of men. It probably led to your parents' little vanishing act."

Cora nodded slowly, purposefully. "I think I understand what you're saying, Aunt Amelia. Please do go on."

Aunt Mathilde chimed in, "Ah, yes! This poor wretched realm has been running on fumes for far too long. Centuries upon centuries, if you must know. And, like all things in life, it decays and fractures over time. You'll need to help us repair those pesky little cracks and breaks in the fold. Only then, can order be restored to the mortals and their silly world."