Mum turned into a so-called Blair Street, and something told me that it wasn’t far to wherever.

The darkness didn’t really allow me to recognize anything, except for isolated silhouettes of large houses that clearly had to belong to Blairville’s more well-heeled residents.

At the end of the street, Mum slowed down, and I recognized a locked iron access gate in front of me, which rose very majestically and was connected to a continuing iron fence, behind it a high hedge.

But my view was not blocked for long because the door opened automatically – as usual in these noble districts – so that we could pass.

Very inviting.

The driveway led us to a paved courtyard where several cars were parked, including one very familiar to me. Vivienna’s.

A few memories of Friday morning came back, when she had used her bare hands to move Emely and the guys. Of course, she also belonged to this cult. In fact, I would have believed her the most – such a witch as she was.

In the center of the courtyard was a fountain that also seemed to be active at night. A stone woman, whose aesthetic body was covered by a sheet, let the water speckle from her upstretched hands in the form of two bending fountains. All that was missing was for her knees to buckle, and she would have easily passed for a bar dancer.

A second later, I discovered the fish scales on her legs.

But it was not the beautifully decorated fountain that aroused my interest and, at the same time, made my heart race. In front of me rose a gigantic lantern-lit mansion in the Victorian architectural style with round-arched windows, a brick-built first floor and terraces typical of the architectural style as well as tower roofs.

Above the massive main entrance was a huge window, with a pointed tower above it bearing an iron sun with a crest with a raven in the center.

Whoever lived here was filthy rich, and somehow, I was sure it didn’t look any worse from the inside.

And, of course, those dangerous bird beasts were circling around again.

Mum had parked, but she didn’t get out. And if she didn’t, I certainly wouldn’t either.

Her nervousness seemed to be transferring to me. My hands were already shaking again.

“I’m sorry I brought you here. If I had the chance to undo it, I would.”

Wow. She had had countless opportunities to get in that car and just leave town.

“You lied to me, multiple times, and faked an illness that killed other people because you knew I would do anything for you if you weren’t well.”

Mum was silent. And that made me even angrier.

“Why did you put us in danger like that?”

“I’m sorry, Bay...”

“If you’re sorry, then come home with me now.”

I couldn’t accept her apology because words were just words. Her actions were what mattered.

Mum took a deep breath.

“You have to get through this.”

Of course, her words were worth nothing. Didn’t she care that much about me?

Mum continued to ignore me.

“No matter what happens now, don’t speak unless you’re told to. Do as you’re told, and don’t be afraid, especially of Amara. If you get nauseous, don’t stop, or it will get worse. And if they ask weird questions, let me answer for you, okay?”

If she had wanted to calm me down with that, she had achieved exactly the opposite.

Why the hell would I get nauseous? What was waiting for me there? Did I even want to know?

She put her hand on my forearm, and I suppressed the urge to slap it away.

“We’re late, come on.”

And then she got out, leaving me with all my questions and anger.

Close your eyes and get through it, Bay. You’re going to show them now that all of this is a mistake, and you don’t belong to the Garden Wizards, or whatever they call themselves.

I got out and briskly followed my mother across the cobbled courtyard, up the stairs, where she rang a bell as raven cries tore through the gloomy full moon night.

My heart slipped again as the door opened on its own with no one there.

Mum entered just like that.

“Diana, good to see you again.”

A short, petite woman with a dark ponytail, maybe ten years younger than Mum, smiled kindly at her before turning to me.

“You must be Bayla. Welcome to Moenia.”

Where the hell?

I eyed her suspiciously. Only now did I notice her floor-length black robe.

Great. Here one ran around like Gandalf.... What came next? Unicorns? Flying broomsticks? Witches’ hats?

“I’m Margot.” The young woman held out her hand to me, and I shook it out of reflex. Then she held out robes to me and Mum as well, her a black one, which Mum slipped on without hesitation, and me a white one.

I hesitantly accepted the thing before I did the same as both of her and Mum and I followed this Margot through the extensive hallway of the building toward a wide staircase that led down to another floor.

Somehow, the house seemed much larger from the inside, especially considering that the basement alone seemed to make up two levels.

This basement was mostly a hallway with old antiques and paintings from other centuries on the dark red wallpaper.

We passed dozens of bookshelves, and I was tempted to decipher the titles, but either they were faded or we walked past them too quickly without even a chance to run my finger, tingling with curiosity, over the book spines.

Yellowish lamps alternated with candlesticks mounted in wall brackets to light our way.

We came to the end of one of the countless corridors, where a meter-high golden globe waited for us.