It's been over an hour since Sam left and I used the time to gather myself in the shower. When I enter my bedroom, I see his shirt tucked underneath the bed. I lift it up and I fold it, placing it carefully in a drawer.

I shake my head and I begin getting ready for the day. I pick out my thin, red sweater and some comfortable blue jeans. Then I change them for black. I sit at my desk and I glance at my reflection. I haven't worn make-up in months but I need to make a good impression. I add some mascara and I bury the bags under my eyes with concealer. I clean my face with moisturiser but just as I'm about to work on my wet hair, the front door bangs.

I take a deep breath, more like a long sigh, and I walk slowly through the house to the front door. I open the door cautiously, even though I already know who it is.

"Good morning," Joey says.

"Hey," I say. I flick my eyes to an extremely tall, blonde witch and her dark-haired, muscled friend. "You brought company."

"We called round last night, but you didn't answer," the witch says.

"I was tired," I say.

"My name is Erin. This is Max. We were Amara's advisors."

"And your new council," Max says, grinning. "Can we come in?"

"I guess so."

Joey lifts an eyebrow and walks straight in, but the others linger behind a second, their eyes darting to the high ceiling.

"What a lovely. . . house you have," Erin mutters. "Always lived here?"

"Yes," I say. I lead them into the lounge and I take a seat in the armchair next to the window, while they hover in the doorway, scanning around the area carefully. "It's a house, not an igloo."

"Forgive us," Erin says, turning her head in all sorts of directions. "We are used to working in bigger quarters."

"Much bigger quarters," Max says.

"Sit down," I say, pointing my eyes to the long, leather sofa. They glance at each other and then take a seat, while Joey stands at the wall with his arms crossed. He's enjoying this, and I don't know why.

They sit down slowly, shuffling their backsides into the leather until they're something that resembles comfortable.

"The council wanted you to meet with us before your ceremony tonight," Erin says. "To give you an insight into the life of an Elder and what is required of you."

"I'm sorry," I say. "What coven did you say you were from?"

"I didn't." She smiles. "I'm from the Brently coven."

"Westwood," Max says.

I glance at Joey and he shrugs.

"I've never heard of those covens," I say.

"We're originally from Nevada," Erin says. "But we expanded to Arizona a few years ago. Very talented, I assure you. We've been taught by the best. Most of our childhood consisted of training and preparing for a chance to be at the main house."

"And we have advised the most powerful Elder to have ever lived," Max says. "We know a thing or two about magic."

"I'm not doubting your skills," I say. "But I am not Amara. And let's be honest, you didn't advise her, you were her personal assistants."

"Rude," Erin mutters.

"I suppose, in a way, we were." Max looks at Erin in doubt and she glares back angrily. "But she listened to us, sometimes."

"When you weren't making her angry, she listened to us."

"Well she didn't threaten to kill me."

I start laughing and I groan as I place a hand to my forehead. "I can't believe the council sent children."

"Children?" they hiss.

"I am older than you," Erin says. "So, don't bring age into this. We've probably got more experience than you, little girl."

"Erin."

"What? She isn't the Elder yet."

"Did you ever kill for her?" I ask.

They fall silent.

"Did you ever advise her to kill?"

Erin looks at her fingers and Max stares at me in shock.

"Amara was. . . complicated," Erin says, lifting her head with a warm smile. "Our lives were in danger every second we entered the room she was in. But it was our job. It was an honour and it brought honour to our families. We weren't her friends and half of the time she didn't even speak to us, but when she needed us, we were there."

"Their covens are a certified level five," Joey says. "I've looked into it. If the Harmons stepped down voluntarily, one of their covens would have stepped up."

"Impressive research for a level three," Erin says.

"I get it, you're powerful," I say to them. "But I don't need power. I need trust. I need advisors that believe in what they are doing. That will work with me to help save the lives that Amara destroyed, or rather, has locked away."

"You want to release the humans?" Max says.

"Yes."

"You can't," Erin says. "Amara used representational magic when she created the Red Camps. The magic is anchored to objects all over America. She even used people. You can get inside the camp, but nothing can get out unless whatever it's anchored to is destroyed."

"She really wanted them to suffer," Max whispers.

"This is all of the camps?" Joey demands.

Erin nods.

"How many camps are there?" I whisper.

"Fifteen," Erin says. "The one the Slayers infiltrated wasn't created by representational magic. She wanted it that way because. . ." Max widens his eyes at her and Erin gulps.

"What?" Joey says.

Max sighs. "She placed a witch inside the camp. Someone that could lie their way in to wherever the Slayers were taking them. She was obsessed with finding this secret haven that she was convinced the humans were hiding out."

"One witch against all those Slayers isn't going to end well," I sigh.

"The witch would have already aborted," Erin says. "There's no one to report back to. She's probably on her way back here. Unless they've killed her."

"We can't help her now," I say. "But we can still help those humans. If there's fifteen camps then there's fifteen objects. You must have some idea of what or where they are."

Erin shrugs. "Amara never shared it with us. But. . . she did require my help."

"Erin's speciality is representational magic."

"You gave her the idea?" I say, leaning forwards angrily.

"It's the only spell that holds, even after the castor dies. I once tied the life of a moth to a charm on my bracelet." She begins twisting it around her wrist. "Ten years later, the moth is still alive."

"How do we find out what she tied them to?" I demand.

"Know her well," Erin suggests. "She spent a lot of time with that young witch, Belle. I had my suspicions that she was used as an anchor. Amara was the only one that could bend the spell to allow someone inside. Now she's dead, the humans probably have enough food and water to last them a week at most. After that, they'll die of dehydration."

"Can a different Elder manipulate the magic?" I ask.

"It's possible," Erin says. "But you have to understand, Amara hated humans, probably more than she hated Slayers. She wanted Red Camps around the entire world by the end of the year. She said that they should be imprisoned like we were imprisoned, made to suffer like we had suffered. And many covens still believe in this. They might retaliate if you broke her spells."

"Amara's death made her a martyr," Max says. "To many people."

"Then it's not just her spells I'll have to break." I look at Joey and he nods at me softly. "This has to end."

"We can't help with that," Erin says. "But we are trained in the process of the coronation and we can prepare you extensively for your transition."

I lean back and I nod.

"The coronation itself will be quick," she continues. "It will take place in the Summit, the birthplace of our ancestral magic. All covens will be required to be there. Traditionally, the coronation of a new Elder would be administrated by the head of the Harmon coven. However, because you are the last Harmon and are undergoing the coronation yourself, it will be overseen by the head of the council, Marcus Black. He will give a brief speech before you are called out, and he will talk to the covens about why you have been chosen."

"He'll tell them about your manifestation," Max says. "And that you've passed various tests to prove yourself."

"Then he'll call your name," Erin whispers. "After that, you'll walk out onto the stage and you'll have to stand in a drawn-out diagram of our witching symbol. And, traditionally, the amulet of the ancestors will be placed around their throat." Erin stares at my chest and swallows. "But it appears you are already wearing one."

"That's a family heirloom," Joey says.

Erin raises an eyebrow and I smile at her.

"Right," she says. "So, the one Amara wore was a fake then?" She glances at Max and grins proudly. "I told you."

Max now stares at my chest. I cough and slide the amulet underneath my sweater.

"I underestimated you," I say.

"I've studied every part of the Elder bloodline dating back to our creation," Erin says. "Amara's great-great grand mother wore that amulet, but on the pictures of the descendants, it changed. Would you call it coincidental that they all turned evil afterwards?"

"What are you talking about?" Joey asks, walking closer into the room. "What is it?"

"Some called it a weapon, others a prison for the trapped soul of a god. It enhances the power of the Elder and makes them immune to all magic or threats," Erin says. "In the older scripts, they called it Immortalem. Latin for immortal. It is one of the first myths that it created the angels that created us."

"It created the Elders," I say.

"Have you used the spell to unlock it?" Erin demands. "Did it. . . show you?"

"It showed me how we were created, yes. The Elder was created from a demigod, the rest of us, angels. So, there is some truth to the myths."

"Incredible. Can I touch it?" Her hand reaches out in sheer excitement.

"It will burn you," I say.

She takes back her hand. "Oh."

"What can this thing do?" Joey says.

"It can give her unlimited power," Erin says. "Dangerous, of course, but it doesn't influence personality. The coronation on the other hand, can. If Immortalem chooses you then why do you even want to go through the transition? You can do everything some of us can only dream of already."

"Just because I can access it doesn't mean I want to," I say. "I wear it so no one else can, not because I want to be known as anything more. Wearing an amulet doesn't get the covens to respect me or trust me."

"But becoming the Elder will change you," she says. "It's a fact. Immortalem might be able to keep your mind stable, but there's only so much power one person can take, Theresa. It has changed every Elder in history, whether for the good or bad. You already have manifestation, which is damn impressive already, but combined with an Elder bloodline and an immortal soul stuck to your skin, things could get messy."

"The coronation could kill you," Max says.

"What happens during the coronation?" I whisper.

"After the amulet is placed around their throat, a spell is cast. It's one spell that opens a gateway to the ancestors. Because you're a Harmon, we can't predict if the gateway will be to your own coven or the Elders. Not even Marcus knows. If it's your own coven, then great, you'll see your family for a brief moment and spend a wondrous moment captivated by the impossible. But, if it's the Elders, they could reject you, hurt you, and you'll spend a horrible moment writhing in unbearable pain. While the gateway is open, anything could happen, and their anger could come into our world."

"It could take out the whole Summit," Max says.

"It could kill everyone inside," Erin mutters. "Marcus can't be sure how they'll react and that's why you need to be coached. You have to convince the Elders that this is for the best, even if it means lying through your teeth and promising them things you don't mean. You have to make them believe that you're one of them."

"I can't do that," I sigh.

"Why not?" she says.

I look at Joey and he knows what I'm thinking. He shakes his head at me, but how long can I live without this coming out? I definitely don't trust Erin or Max but they deserve to know every detail of my relationship with the Elders if they're going to trust me.

"Because I helped kill Amara. It's my fault she's dead. And that's something that they'll never forgive me for."

Erin sighs but she doesn't seem shocked by that. "Then don't do it. Marcus can elect someone else and you can work with them off the record. Even though you're the only possible choice, your life is probably worth a lot more."

"She's right, Theresa," Joey says. "Your gift is a miracle, but don't throw it all away for a title. Amara can influence that gateway, even from wherever she is, and you'll be too vulnerable to stop her."

"But there's a chance I will see my coven again?" I say. "It's a small chance, but it's a chance."

"Is it worth it?" Erin asks.

"I can't help the humans without it. I need that Elder magic." I rub my temple as my head begins to ache. I understand their concerns but it doesn't outweigh the devastation of not doing it.

"The irony of doing this," Erin says. "is that when you go through the change, you might not have the same feelings about humans as you do now. Wiccans lived among them, but Elders never have, and for good reason. You're not becoming an enhanced witch, Theresa, you're becoming an Elder. There's a chance you might hate the humans just as much as Amara."

"That's not possible," I whisper.

"It's very possible if-"

"I know my own mind, okay?" I stare at her angrily. "And you said yourself, they might have only been that way because they didn't have the amulet to guide them. I do. This time will be different."

"Alright," Erin sighs. "So, what do we do about the gateway? If the ancestors oppose you or attack you then the coronation can't happen."

"I've faced the ancestors before," I say, remembering when Vienna summoned my semi-conscious soul to the palace of Elders. "And I know what they want more than anything. I just have to dangle the possibility in front of them."

It's easier said than done, of course, because they now know that killing Sam is something I can never do. But I can still bargain for something else, something better. The one thing that they want more than Sam's death. When I'm Elder, it'll be my priority to ensure the safety of not just the humans, but the world. It's an unfathomable responsibility and one I cannot share the burden of alone.

But it all starts in that stadium, and whatever dangers I have to face tonight, nothing will be as bad as the one danger that is coming.