Marcus pulls his hand back with a hiss as the amulet burns him. His hand merely touched it for a second, which was evidence enough. I glance at each council member with my head held high.

"Thank you for bringing it home," Marcus says. "This will be quite the coronation."

"How did you retrieve it so effectively?" a witch asks. Her eyes are a marvelous shade of grey and they compliment her thin, bony face and lightened brown hair well.

"The Slayers trust me," I say. "And, apparently, so does the forcefield around their castle."

Marcus chuckles. "Even suppressing your demon side cannot hide you from energy. It will always sense you, always trust you, always be there. You are a magnificent product of nature. It is a shame you must turn away from it."

"I'm told I have to choose," I say. "So, I have. I have chosen to accept the Elder position and rule over the covens."

"I am sensing a but."

"But, I will also choose my advisors. I want Joey and Natalia by my side."

"It doesn't work like that," a warlock growls. "They have no experience in-"

Marcus holds out a hand and silences the warlock. "Theresa, Natalia Redding murdered eleven of her own kind. Her coven belongs to the dark, they're unpredictable. If you offer them a place in your council you are beginning this with the wrong message."

"Almost every wiccan on this Earth has killed someone," I say. "Humans, Slayers, it doesn't matter. They're all responsible for murder. Natalia committed some evil acts but she was under the influence of dark magic. And I trust her coven more than I trust any that you appoint to guide me. This is the deal."

"Fine," Marcus says. "You may appoint two of your own advisors, however, we will provide the others. That is our side of the deal."

"Fine."

Marcus stands, and this has just become real. "As per tradition, we must give the covens one full day of mourning. We will announce Amara's death in an official capacity within the hour when all of the covens have gathered. Yourself, and your advisors, are not obligated to attend this. The coronation will take place tomorrow evening at sundown. We highly recommend that you work with your advisors through the night, and day, to prepare for it. It isn't an easy transition to make and will require intense studies. Becoming the Elder isn't just a power position, it's hours and hours of training, meetings and extremely hard work accomplished through sleep deprivation and challenging circumstances. Your coven, before their deaths, were the Elders' advisors for centuries, so we understand you have a minimal perception of what is expected. You will have access to limitless power, but you must also remember that there is always a cost to using it. Any decisions regarding such use should first and foremost be brought to our attention first. Is that clear?"

"Yes," I say. "Everything is very clear."

"Good. The main house will be refurbished and appropriately cleansed for your arrival."

"That won't be necessary," I say. "I already have a house."

"The Elder must be based at the main house," Marcus says. "It is the way it has always been."

"None of this is exactly traditional," I say. "I'm sacrificing a lot more than I'm gaining, so can't I at least have control over where I sleep?"

"If you want to be recognized as the Elder and taken seriously, then living in the main house is non-negotiable. Plus, you will need maximum security and they can't be stationed in the middle of the city. You may spend tonight in your own house, but after the coronation you will be obligated to live at the mansion."

It seems to be out of my control, so I accept uneasily. The thought of living in Amara's home makes me nauseous. I don't want to be any closer to her than I am already, and even then it's difficult to stomach. None of this is going to be easy, it's going to take a long time to adjust to a completely new life, and I've got one day to prepare myself for some serious changes. At least every other Elder had their parent to coach them, so they were fully ready for the transition after their parents' death. I've had no time at all to deal with this and Marcus can sense that.

"Do you have any questions, Theresa?"

"What if they don't accept me?" I whisper. "What if the covens rebel against me?"

"An Elder makes them accept," he says. "You have to establish authority. If you show weakness, they will swarm. Just focus on what they need to hear, everything else comes after. Amara achieved this through fear, but I assume you intend to take a different approach."

"Is inflicting fear easier?" I ask.

"It's certainly quicker." He smiles. "But the way you handle it is a representation of your personality. It is everything that makes you who you are and the leader you wish to be. You are entitled, and authorized, to present yourself as anything you want. If you want to strike fear in their hearts, then do so. If you want to earn their trust and loyalty the old-fashioned way then do so. But it is in our experience that fear is usually the safest way to control them."

"Right," I say. "Because if I give them free reign then they'll abuse it."

"It is up to you." He shrugs. "If there's nothing else, we really need to begin preparations for our Summit gathering."

"No, there's nothing else."

"We look forward to seeing you at the Summit building tomorrow evening. Your new advisors will be sent to introduce themselves at some point tonight. Please do not ignore them. They have vital information that will benefit you."

"How do you know where I'm staying?"

"They'll find you," he says, smiling creepily. He flicks his hand slowly and the door opens. "Enjoy your last evening, Theresa."

I leave the room promptly. Out in the hallway, it's lonely. I walk towards the exit door at the end, and I am let out of the building by a large, heavily tattooed warlock. He doesn't say anything to me, just grunts quietly. It's dark outside and I glare up at the hundreds of stars above me. Time moves so much quicker inside that room; it feels like minutes but hours must have passed since I arrived here.

"What's the verdict?"

Natalia and Joey sit on a bench opposite the entrance door. I seem to have interrupted something because they are both grinning to themselves and sitting too close for comfort.

"I passed," I say. "How would you both like to live inside a mansion?"

"Seriously?" Natalia squeals. "They let you pardon me?"

"Yes, but there's a condition," I say.

"Oh no, what?"

"The condition is that you become one of my many advisors. You can have your freedom, but I want to keep a close eye on you." I look at Joey. "Both of you."

"It would be my honour," Joey says.

"I just got rid of one Elder, I don't particular want to stick around to look out for another," Natalia sighs. "What about my coven?"

"They can visit. You have to prove to me that you're serious about making things right and amending your sins. Your unique skillset will come in handy in the next few days."

Natalia grins. "You want me to teach you how to read auras?"

"I think there's a lot you can teach me. And I don't have long to learn. I don't trust the advisors the council are placing with me. I need someone I can trust by my side."

"There's no one you can trust more than a witch that fought alongside Slayers," Natalia says. Joey stares at her. "Okay. Fine. I'm in. But I'll need to return to California to tell the coven."

"That's fine," I say. "As long as you're back before sunset tomorrow. That's when it'll be."

"I'll be there. Sleep tight, Elder."

Natalia jumps up and walks off, she vanishes inside the shadows. Joey just glares at me, intensely, and I know he's dying to ask questions. I'm too exhausted to give him answers. The time difference hasn't been processed yet, but I'm aware I've been awake almost twenty-four hours.

"Will you walk home with me?" I say.

"Of course."

For several minutes we walk in silence. The night air is refreshing and a walk clears my mind. The city is quiet and repressive. Amara had strict curfews which meant the humans weren't allowed outside their homes between sundown and sunset. The patrol wiccans are still implementing them. As we pass several of them, I notice how simple it is to be unnoticed because I'm with Joey. He nods at them, as a formal greeting, and they leave us alone.

I used to walk these streets with caution. Fearing the corner I turn around would present me with a human being tortured or abused. Now, I walk with a new hope, knowing that every corner I turn will never bring me that dread again.

I see the same restaurants, the same herb shops, the same dusty, broken signs hanging above abandoned warehouses. It stinks of sewage and rodents. Each street is worse than the last, there is no end to the crust and misery.

"Can I ask you something?" Joey says quietly as we approach my house that sits on a darkened avenue.

"Sure."

"What is that around your neck? Only, you weren't wearing that at the desert."

I touch the crystal instinctively. "It's just a family heirloom. I returned to the castle to get my things."

"The castle? That's where you've been all this time?"

"Yes."

"With the Malachi?" he says. "It was him at the Summit that took you, wasn't it?"

I flinch as I remember that day. For me, it was another lifetime ago, for Joey, he must go over it all the time.

"Yes," I whisper. "It was him."

"It's good that he didn't kill you, but. . . why didn't he?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask him that."

I stop at the front of my house. I stare at it, analysing every brick and window. The house is exactly the same. Two-story, white, large porch with the swing that my mother would usually be out on when I arrived home from school. I see her sat on it now, big smile, holding up a glass of wine or champagne that she enjoyed drinking when she was reading or thinking. I see my mother so much in this house that it was only natural that I felt abandoned when I left it.

"I thought you'd want to come home," Joey whispers. "So, while you were referring with the council, I took the liberty of making it a little more homely for you."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," he says. "It was vacant for so long that it needed a deep cleansing. And you've probably had the longest day of your life, so. . ."

"Thank you," I say. "It means a lot."

"I stocked up some of your kitchen, and there's supplies on the dining room table. Most of your human neighbours are still living on the street so they'll probably be glad to see you back."

I frown. I wish I was staying longer than a night; I've love nothing more than to wake up every morning and see their faces, but I can't do that. Some of them I've known since I was a child, and even during the dark era they never looked at me differently. I hope that still suffices.

"I'll leave you to it," he says. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Okay. Thank you, again, truly."

"You're welcome. Good night."

"Good night."

As he leaves, I approach the porch. I take each step slowly, as though the house may explode if I get too close. I make it to the front door and I turn the handle, pushing it open. The entranceway is wide and inviting, my shoes are still lined up on the rack, my jackets are still hung up on the wall. I go to flick a light on, but the house is still in darkness. Amara must have cut the power. I glance up at the light-bulbs along the ceiling and a moment later they begin to burn with life and light.

I enter the dining room first, where Joey has left a cardboard box full of supplies. I pick up items such as; a toothbrush, paste, toilet roll, tampons, underarm spray, bread, milk, coffee and at the bottom, I find my cell phone. The battery is dead as I can't even remember the last time, I used it, but he must have found it somewhere in the house. I walk around the downstairs, amazed that everything is still where I left it. It's clean, as Joey said it would be, and the kitchen stinks of bleach.

I leave the box on the counter in the kitchen, and I carry my rucksack and toothpaste upstairs with me. I pass my mother's bedroom first, and her door is still closed. I look at it for around a minute, trying to build up the courage to enter, but I can't. It's not a door I wish to enter yet, my heart won't take it.

I enter my bedroom at the end of the hallway, and the heat is unbearable. It's stuffy and airless. I turn on my portable air fan in the corner of my room and I stand in the middle of it, waiting for reality to catch up to me.

My bedroom is also the same. Cream walls, double bed with a blue flower pattern, desirable grey carpet, boxes of clothes stuffed around the corners, empty potion bottles scattered around my desks and drawers. My books, school reports and my collection of posters and pictures are all still piled up underneath my bed. In a frame beside my bed, is my mother and I. I run a finger along her face, smiling at her smile.

I enter my ensuite bathroom and I stare at my reflection in the dusty mirror as I run the water and brush my teeth. My hair is now a light brown, and will get darker as I sleep. My eyes remain a deep, sandy brown, but they will most likely begin to change after the coronation.

After using the bathroom, I delve into my dresser. I have my own clothes again, but I will miss Sophia's outfits. I take off her grey shirt and dark jeans and I replace them with a comfortable nightgown. Tomorrow will be my first morning without her. Even after I spent all night guarding the refugee camp, I always made sure I visited her for lunch before I slept. She even offered to do several posts with me just so we could be together and talk. She made time go faster, and we giggled so much that it hurt. I think of her laugh as I crawl into bed and bury myself beneath the familiar, yet unfamiliar, warmth of my covers.

I close my eyes, putting all thoughts of Sophia and the life I had away, and I surrender myself to the call of sleep..