Larissa called me paranoid because I had once told her that I felt stalked by these creatures. She was probably right. This town made me paranoid.

“Bay!”

I jumped up from the carpet next to my window, feeling dizzy and a painful tug rushing through my chest.

Since this morning, I'd been feeling a strange pressure between my breasts, like something was stuck there that didn't belong.

Something was wrong with my body, because I was also freezing all the time.

Larissa had said I wasn't used to the weather here, but it felt more like chills.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but ever since Mum's witch friend had almost broken my neck on the altar of sacrifice in the witch temple, the symptoms of illness had been alternating. Headaches and tiredness went hand in hand day and night, and now I was also freezing.

The smell of freshly baked blueberry pancakes and hot butter filled the entire first floor, and my mouth automatically watered.

Mum definitely knew how to wrap me around her finger.

Last night, she had called me and told me to go with Julian, which I had done.

I didn't mind sitting next to Julian in a slightly older tin car, not at all. He hadn't exactly been talkative, almost over-focused on the road. We'd exchanged a few words about the Copelands, and I'd asked him questions about the English professor. He'd only meant that I should stay away from the Copelands and their pack, if Julie and Grace said so.

Very helpful.

He'd answered the question of what part he played in all this with a curt “none” and I'd accepted it as I don't feel like talking to you.

Before Julian had let me out at Mady's, I had used the time to read Professor Copeland's book.

From what I'd understood, it was about a group of young students whose mission was to bring their families together, so they formed a secret alliance.

It was easy to get into and the author, whose name I still didn't know, had a relaxing writing style. It really wasn't bad, but I was barely on page 30 of 400.

I sat on the couch with my professor's book and successfully blocked out the fact that he was a werewolf.

“Et voila!” Mum came into the living room with two heavy plates, a smile on her lips that I had missed a little.

How could she be in such a good mood with all she knew and after the torture last weekend?

I still hadn't forgiven her for lying to me about being sick. Especially because there really were people out there battling cancer.

“You can read on later. For now, I have something for you that I'm sure you won't be able to say no to.”

With reluctance, I placed the book on the table next to me and moved so that Mum could sit down on the couch.

She handed me a knife and fork, as well as the plate full of pancakes, which smiled at me with their roundness dripping with maple syrup.

“At least maple syrup is cheaper in Canada,” Mum laughed, plopping down on the couch next to me with a carefree expression.

“Can witches even get cancer?”

Mum made a face because she knew what I was indirectly criticizing her for.

“We're bound to a human body. Of course, we can get sick, just like anyone else.”

“Can't illnesses just be magicked away?”

Mum looked up from her plate.

“It's not that simple.” She put a piece of pancake in her mouth and finished chewing before continuing.  “Healing diseases is one of the gifts of the Earth or Water Quatura. And even though there are many Earth Quatura, only a few have mastered this gift.”

“So, there are several types of witches?”

“Please try to use the word Quatura when you're in Moenia, okay? I don't mind it, but the others do.”

Mum had explained to me over the phone what the witch house was called where the Blairs lived above this underground temple, and as if that wasn't weird enough, it was a rule, no matter how close someone was to you, to call them by their first name.

I'd told Mum straight away that she couldn't force me - not even in exchange for blueberry pancakes - to call her Diana.

That must have been her inspiration for our Saturday dinner today. Something we were now going to make a tradition of, as much as possible. It was my mother's pitiful attempt to overshadow all this crap with normal human activities.

“There are four types of Quatura. Most of us, about 70 percent, have the gifts of the earth. Just like you saw with Amara. This means that they are able to combine plants and minerals in such a way that they become effective.”

“So, they make potions?” I asked with sarcasm, and Mum laughed.

“Something like that... Only we call it something else. But more on that later. Because that's not all. Quatura of Earth can also shape materials, influence biological processes, or use plants to work healing magic, for example.” I immediately thought of Amara, who had nursed up Mum's plant. “These Quatura are the ones who perform the temple service, lead the rituals, and are often the Domini of a Circle.”

Mum called these cults, which apparently existed all over the world, Circles, and the idea that Grace and Julie had grown up there sent shivers down my spine.

Mum speared a thumb-sized blueberry onto her fork and popped it into her mouth.

The food was so damn delicious, but I had completely forgotten to continue eating.

“Tell me about the others,” I prompted her, cutting my pancake pile into four even pieces.

“Fifteen percent of the Quatura are guardians of water. They can shape and use water, but they can also communicate with creatures in the waters.”

I looked up from my plate.

“Mermaids, then?”

Mum sighed. “They were actually Quatura of the water who practiced by the sea back then. You must know that they can breathe underwater.” I looked at Mum in amazement. “They use the water to heal, but they are very private souls. They're often consulted when there's a problem with the weather, but otherwise, they tend to stay on the seaside of the island here, where their powers are stronger.”

Blairville was located on a slightly larger peninsula that jutted out into the sea and was therefore, perfectly isolated from the outside world. The best place to found a cult.

“Another twelve percent of the Quatura have the gift of air. But it's actually more like telekinesis, you know?”

She moved her finger, and suddenly, my plate of pancakes rose into the air, only to fly to Mum, who handed me one of her pancakes and let the plate fly back into my hands.

“What the...”