Witch Rising Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by Paige McKenzie and Nancy Ohlin

  Cover art copyright © 2021 by Sweeney Boo

  Cover copyright © 2021 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

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  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  First Edition: September 2021

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  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: McKenzie, Paige, author. Ohlin, Nancy, author.

  Title: Witch rising : a B*witch novel / Paige McKenzie and Nancy Ohlin.

  Description: First edition. | New York : Little, Brown and Company, 2021. |

  Series: B*witch ; book 2 | Audience: Ages 12 & up. | Summary: “In this sequel, the two covens work together, and harder than ever, to fight against the New Order, a rising anti-magic group that’s sprung up in their hometown”—Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: 2020056048 | ISBN 9780759557697 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780759557673 (ebook) | ISBN 9780759557680 (ebook other)

  Subjects: Witchcraft—Fiction. | High schools—Fiction. | Schools—Fiction.

  Classification: PZ7.M19863214 Wit 2021 | DDC [Fic]—dc23LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020056048

  ISBNs: 978-0-7595-5769-7 (hardcover), 978-0-7595-5767-3 (ebook)

  E3-20210805-JV-NF-ORI

  Contents

  COVER

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  EPIGRAPH

  THE TEA WITH T

  PROLOGUE

  PART 1: DARKNESS FALLING 1 ENEMY TERRITORY

  2 KRUSHING

  3 MOONLIGHT AND MAGIC

  4 THE UNFINISHED CIRCLE

  5 THE CLUB SCENE

  6 DISSIMULATION

  7 NEST OF VIPERS

  8 THE INNER SANCTUM

  9 THE HELMET OF INSCRUTABILITY

  10 THE SCIONS OF CALLIXTA

  PART 2: FIFTY SHADES OF DEATH 11 TAKE TWO

  12 UNFAMILIARS

  13 WITCHWORLDCON

  14 THE STING THAT BINDS

  15 DUNGEONS AND DISGUISES

  16 TOIL AND TROUBLE

  17 PRISONER’S DILEMMA

  PART 3: IDENTITY THEFT 18 THE GAMING ROOM

  19 TRUTHFUL LIES

  20 NECESSARY DANGER

  21 THE DESCENDANT

  22 THE GIRL WITH THE ROSE PERFUME

  23 SLEEPLESS IN SORROW POINT

  24 LIFE, LIBERTAS, AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS

  25 WHAT’S PAST IS PROLOGUE

  EPILOGUE

  LOVE-POTION TEA

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  DISCOVER MORE

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  BY PAIGE MCKENZIE AND NANCY OHLIN

  To Jens. You fill my life with love and light and magic every day.

  —NEO

  To all the inspiring witches who came before… Sally and Gillian Owens, Kiki, the Sanderson sisters, Glinda, Minerva, Lamia, Elphaba, and last but not least, Howl. May your magic live on.

  —PM

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  We grow accustomed to the Dark—

  When Light is put away—

  —EMILY DICKINSON

  THE TEA WITH T

  Hey, listeners! Thanks for joining me on the podcast premiere of The Tea with T. That’s tea as in the drink, and the letter T as in my initial. I’ll be coming to you each week with the hot tea on all things magical, mystical, and mundane… and of course, my favorite tea recipes!

  Today, I’ll be talking to you about Callixta Crowe’s Descendant. That’s Descendant with a capital D… because there must be many Callixta descendants out there, and it’s important to keep the Descendant separate from the rest.

  So I’ve been trying to solve the mystery of the Descendant’s identity for a while now. Here’s what I have so far, and bear with me because it’s complicated:

  FACTS:

  She—I will use she/her/hers pronouns for now, although the Descendant could also be male-identifying or have another gender-expansive identity—first made herself known on March 12, 2016. She wrote and posted a letter on several deepsites, like w/witchworld and other hidden locations, and basically blew up everything we thought we knew about witches and witchcraft.

  What we knew, pre-Descendant, was that some portion of the population identified as witches and practiced witchcraft throughout history. It was a generally accepted thing until 1877, when the government passed an anti-witchcraft law called Title 6, Section 129, and the Great Witch Purge happened. Hundreds—no, thousands—of witches were hunted down and executed, including Callixta herself. Since then, witches have mostly practiced in total secrecy, including me. Over time, the authorities became less strict about enforcing 6-129. Until now.

  The Descendant came forward and warned us in her letter that things are changing. In addition to stricter enforcement of 6-129, there are new anti-witch forces at work, mainly in the government and through a hate movement that seems to be growing more aggressive and violent every day.

  The Descendant’s letter wasn’t all bad news, though. She also shared Callixta’s previously unknown theories and scientific findings regarding witches, which are very illuminating. Plus, she posted a link to a partial manual by Callixta called The Good Book of Magic and Mentalism. That was the first time I—and I’m sure many other witches—learned about spells and potions, about the fact we aren’t alone in the world, and that there is a secret community of witches out there practicing in private.

  The Descendant’s letter and link to Callixta’s book disappeared after twenty-four hours, but not before they presumably went viral.

  RUMOR & SPECULATION:

  There have been names tossed around on deepsites about who the Descendant might be. A biologist at MIT. A high school technology teacher in Atlanta. A flower-shop owner in Cleveland. Also some famous people, like the gamer Xandri. The artist Ekon Uba, who died last year—although people say he didn’t actually die but is in hiding. And even the US president’s oldest daughter, Karine Ingraham.

  MY PERSONAL THEORIES:

  I’ve tried a number of advanced identity spells, some from Callixta’s book and some that I developed on my own, but they haven’t resulted in anything solid. I’ve also tried some of my divination tea blends, but no luck there, either.

  Lately, I’ve been leaning toward the Karine Ingraham theory. I suspect the death of Elsa, her younger sister and an alleged witch, turned their dad into a ragingly anti-witch politician, and those events could have motivated her to post that letter and link. But I don’t have any proof, and neither does anyone else, as far as I know. Of course, the White House has publicly denied that anyone in the Ingraham family has
anything to do with witches or witchcraft.

  WHERE TO GO FROM HERE:

  Recently, I’ve been experimenting with some old-school methods to solve the mystery of the Descendant’s identity. Like codes—I’ve tried bifid and Amsco and some other ciphers, but nothing. I will continue along these lines, though, and maybe create more divination tea blends. I will be sure to report on further developments.

  In the meantime… things are bad for witches, here in my new hometown and everywhere else. But it’s important not to lose hope. As Callixta says, “It’s when things seem darkest that we must find the dying flame within us and breathe it back to life.”

  Keep breathing, fellow witches. Don’t give up.

  And someday soon, when all is safe and well, I can tell you what the letter T in The Tea with T stands for.

  Now for today’s tea recipe…

  PROLOGUE

  She was supposed to be dead.

  She remembered dying as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Although to be honest, concepts like “yesterday” had little meaning for her anymore.

  How could she describe what she’d been doing this past… whatever? Taking a nap. Dreaming. Floating in the sea. Riding her favorite horse into an endless sunset.

  Honestly, it wasn’t that different from living. Just fuzzier. More solitary. Also, no Internet.

  Something new was happening, though. The creature—the thing—wanted her awake again, alive and earthbound. She’d been resisting, but her resistance was starting to dissipate. Was the creature growing stronger, or was she growing weaker? Or was she missing the big picture? Was the life-death dichotomy not a dichotomy at all? Should she trust the darkness and jump into the void again?

  She would research this online once she returned, if she returned, and maybe vlog about it, too.

  But for now… whatever “now” was… she would go back to her lovely nap and dream about love. And light.

  PART 1

  DARKNESS FALLING

  Does Nature provide a way to destroy evil without resorting to destruction? Is there such a thing as a beneficent poison?

  (FROM THE GRIMOIRE OF GRETA YSABEL NAVARRO)

  1

  ENEMY TERRITORY

  A sign can appear in many forms.

  Your intuition will yield the most authentic interpretation.

  (FROM THE GOOD BOOK OF MAGIC AND MENTALISM BY CALLIXTA CROWE)

  The forest air was cool and damp as Ridley stepped carefully along the trail, keeping a distance behind the others. Her polished brown loafers sank into the loamy earth, and mud peppered her new khakis. Why hadn’t she worn hiking boots and jeans? But she’d rushed out of the house this morning, not remembering that the Kai Rain Forest field trip was today.

  She used to be more organized than this. Laying out outfits the night before, keeping elaborate color-coded to-do lists, constantly updating her electronic calendar. The stress of the past month had been getting to her, obviously. If only she could deploy cessabit to center herself and maybe tersus to clean up a bit. Yeah, dream on.

  Also, stress wasn’t the exact right word. Upheaval would be more accurate. Or trauma. Or calamity. Or how about end-of-the-world disaster of epic proportions?

  Up front, Mr. Terada was walking backward, tour-guide-style, and lecturing to the students off a pile of index cards.

  “So, the main theater of the American Civil War was in the East and South. That’s ‘theater’ as in a military theater where battles take place, not a movie theater,” he said with a grin. “But there were other theaters besides the eastern and southern ones. In fact, regiments were stationed in the Pacific Northwest, including right here in the Kai Rain Forest, in case the Confederates attempted a sneak attack by sea.”

  Ridley knew a lot about rain forests—last year, she’d written a research paper for freshman bio about regeneration strategies, and she’d turned in three times the minimum two thousand words—but she hadn’t known there were rain forests in Washington. Looking around, she marveled at the tall, curved trees that were covered entirely with lush green moss and were strangely human-looking. At times, they seemed to close in on the trail like a Hansel-and-Gretel ecosystem on steroids. At other times, the trail was more open, flanked by small fields of grass, ferns, and wildflowers. Ridley found it fascinating that this surreal and eerily beautiful landscape had a military backstory.

  “We’re going to connect up with another trail soon. That trail will take us to the ruins of a fortress where Union troops were garrisoned,” Mr. Terada explained.

  Mr. Terada, with his man bun and flannel shirt and faded denim jacket tied around his waist, looked barely older than the students. He was already sub number four in US history this year, and it was only October. Ms. Hua, their regular history teacher, was out on maternity leave. The first sub, Ms. O’Shea, had left in September because of a family emergency. Sub number two, Mr. Eggars, had broken his arm in a boating accident in Puget Sound.

  Sub number three, Ms. Gillespie, had been fired last week for wearing a pentagram amulet. She’d claimed it was just a cheap piece of Halloween jewelry from the mall, but Principal Sparkleman had refused to hear her out. Presumably, he couldn’t take the chance that a Sorrow Point High employee, even a temporary one, might be in violation of Title 6 of the US Comprehensive Code, Section 129. Might be a witch.

  “Here’s an interesting piece of pre–Civil War trivia. Did you guys know there were territorial disputes in this area between the British and the Americans? Have any of you ever heard of the Pig War of 1859?” Mr. Terada asked.

  “Bored out of your mind yet?”

  Ridley whirled around to see who had spoken to her. Boxer braids, black leather jacket. Aysha Rodriguez.

  “I-I didn’t know anyone was behind me,” Ridley stammered. She’d made a point of hanging back so she could be alone.

  “Well, I can be very super-sneaky,” Aysha replied without smiling. She rarely smiled.

  “What do you want?”

  “That’s nice. Hello to you, too.”

  Ridley furrowed her brow. Seriously, why on earth was Aysha talking to her? She was technically a rival, i.e., a member of Div Florescu’s coven.

  Although Ridley’s best friend, Binx, was now a member of that coven, too, so maybe she should be thinking less… divisively?

  “I guess you’re in one of Ms. Hua’s other history sections?” Ridley asked politely.

  “Yup. Fourth period. Have you heard when she’s coming back?”

  “I heard January or maybe later.”

  “Huh. So what happened to the first sub? O’Shea, right? Did she really have a quote-unquote ‘family emergency’ or—”

  “Oh my gosh, look at that adorable squirrel!” Ridley said loudly. “Calumnia,” she whispered into the collar of her white oxford shirt, trying to move her lips as little as possible. With a calumnia spell, anyone listening would think that she and Aysha were discussing hairstyles or homecoming or some other equally banal topic.

  Of course, Ridley shouldn’t be using any magic in public, but Aysha had forced her hand. What had the girl been thinking?

  “What squirrel? And why did you do calumnia?” Aysha asked, frowning.

  “I’m sure there’s a squirrel around here somewhere. And why didn’t you do calumnia?”

  “Because our bossy overlords, I mean our beloved coven leaders, said we’re not allowed to? Besides, people can’t hear us back here, and no one cares about some rando sub.”

  Bossy overlords? Interesting. Ridley had never heard Aysha describe Div that way, although it was 100 percent accurate. Greta, not so much, although she could be bossy when the mood struck her. Mostly, she was like a nervous mother hen.

  “Ms. O’Shea is a witch,” Ridley reminded Aysha. “If anyone here is aware of that fact, and they thought we were connected to her…”

  Her voice trailed off as she glanced worriedly at the pack up ahead, at the three dozen or so sophomores trailing behind Mr. Terada. She wished her cov
en-mates were here—she always felt better, felt stronger, in their presence—but Greta and Iris had Mr. Lemire for history. So did Binx.

  Ridley’s other ex-coven-mate—or, more accurately, her ex-almost-coven-mate—wasn’t here, either. Penelope Hart. A transfer student from Ojala Heights, she used to be in Ridley’s history section at the very beginning of the year. Used to be, until she died… was murdered for being a witch. The police had ruled it a suicide, but the two covens, Greta’s and Div’s, knew better. They were in the process of figuring out who the killer was so they could be brought to justice. Which wouldn’t be easy, given that the entire country seemed to be consumed by an anti-magic fever.

  Penelope. Ridley’s chest tightened at the thought of her. They’d been just starting to become friends before she died. And they might have become more than friends, or at least that’s what Ridley had wanted….

  Aysha’s voice cut into her thoughts.

  “Do you guys have a theory about what happened to O’Shea?”

  “Calumnia,” Ridley repeated, to make doubly sure that they were safe, even though calumnia didn’t really work that way. “We don’t know if Ms. O’Shea really had a family emergency or not. Greta and Iris and I’ve been trying to locate her, but she never gave us her contact info, and none of the usual scrying spells have helped.”

  “Huh.” Aysha seemed to consider this. “The laptop witch mentioned O’Shea at our last coven meeting, which is why I was thinking about her.”

  The laptop witch? “Is that what you call Binx?”

  “Yeah. You know, if the name fits…”

  Ridley’s BFF happened to be a cyber-witch who was skilled at interfacing computer code with magic spells. Binx kept her grimoire on her phone, and her wand, Kricketune, was permanently disguised as a gaming console. But… laptop witch? Ridley wondered if Aysha had a funny-not-funny nickname for her, too.