A Witch's Feast Read Online Free Page B

entryway, she glanced at an aged gardener crouched over the zinnias, a wispy white beard covering his chin. A tall, red-flowered weed grew among the white flowers. He yanked it out with a grunt, crushing the buds in his fingers.  
    As they followed Munroe into the entrance hall, a high domed ceiling dwarfed the students. Portraits lined maroon walls, and a chandelier hung from a long brass chain. Dark, curved staircases swooped upward on either side of the hall to a balcony high above. Fiona pulled back her curls into a ponytail. I feel like I should be wearing a ballgown and fanning myself.
    Munroe beamed. “Welcome to Winderbellow. Someone will come for us.”
    Fiona’s classmate Sadie pushed to the front, staring at the entrance hall. She scratched a freckled cheek. “This place is beautiful,” she whispered. For once, she wasn’t prattling on about what kind of bagel to eat or what kind of socks to wear. Her blond hair swelled in the heat, and her lips looked pale without her usual makeup.
    “Thank you, Sadie,” chirped Munroe. “It has an impressive history, too. It was home to one of the Founding Fathers.”
    As they milled around the imposing vestibule, a young woman entered the hall from the opposite door. Her platinum hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore the same chalice pendant that always adorned Munroe’s neckline. “Ms. Ranulf? Your mother has asked that everyone join her in the green drawing room.” She gave a curt nod and then strode off through the doorway again.
    Munroe beckoned her schoolmates forward. “Follow me, everyone.”  
    She hurried through a rounded door opposite the entryway, and the remnants of Mather Academy’s junior class shuffled one by one through the door. Fiona pressed in after them to an expansive room lined with tall, arched windows. On the far side, glass doors led to a grassy field. Above the doors, afternoon light illuminated a stained-glass chalice insignia. Mahogany chairs with tall backs and faded, embroidered cushions were strewn around the room. A portrait of an obscure Founding Father in a powdered wig hung above the fireplace.
    Fiona’s eye was most drawn to the woman with the strawberry blond ringlets blazing from her head. She reclined on a mustard-yellow sofa near a marble fireplace. She stood, smiling, her porcelain skin gleaming. With a blue dress draping her elegant figure, she looked like she could have been a beauty queen years ago. And there was that chalice again, on her neck. This must be Munroe’s mother.  
    She rose. “Hello, everyone.” She held out her hands over a mahogany coffee table. “Aren’t you all just lovely!”  
    Fiona didn’t feel lovely right now. She wanted to be back in the Adepti room on her beast-embroidered rug, drinking tea and practicing spells with Tobias. If there was a spell for winding back the clock several months, she would really like to know it.  
    “Hello, Mrs. Ranulf,” a few students murmured.  
    There was an herbal, medicinal smell in the air, and silver trays holding glasses of a thick green liquid lined a coffee table.
    “Why don’t you all sit down.” She motioned to the assortment of wooden chairs, and her eyes lingered with concern on Mariana’s decorated arms. “Isn’t it horrible what those terrorists did? We were worried out of our minds. You must have been terribly frightened. Well, I just want you all to know that you’re safe here. There’s a gate around us, and we have the guards. I’m told the students from the other grades were permitted to relocate as well.”
    She picked up a tray of drinks and began offering them around. “I made a nice refreshing smoothie to help you all feel better after that long car ride.”
    Fiona frowned at Mariana. Hadn’t Tobias told them that Munroe was part of a blood-drinking cult? The Purgators, they were called, with a long legacy of persecuting witches. She watched as Tobias grabbed a glass from the tray, taking a sip. He didn’t