There was the basketball hoop her dad had installed behind the garage way back when. They used to have free-throw contests, with the loser having to make ice-cream cones for the two of them (which, looking back, wasn’t much of a penalty). Maybe she should dust off the old orange ball? She could challenge Ridley to a game of one-on-one.
Her phone buzzed—an incoming call from an unfamiliar number.
Maybe ShadowKnight, finally? She’d left two more encrypted messages for him since yesterday.
“Uxie, who is it?” Binx asked her virtual genie/assistant.
“This number belongs to a wireless caller named Divinity Florescu,” Uxie replied.
Div? Did she have new news about the shadow messages? If so, why wasn’t she calling Greta?
Binx stopped in the middle of the driveway and pressed talk. “Why are you calling me?”
“Hey, Binx.”
Binx, not Beatrix. And Div’s tone was friendly. Was this an olive branch? Or was it a black locust branch (which was poisonous) in olive branch clothing? At lunch today, Binx had watched the Triad being fake-friendly with the newb recruit (okay, fine, Iris) and the beautuber, Penelope. Div must believe that Iris and Penelope were both witches, and she was clearly going for a power grab to turn the Triad into a… Pentad? So she could dominate their coven into forever?
“Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, but only a minute. What’s up?” Binx strolled over to a stone bench and sat down.
“First of all, can we keep this conversation between us?” Div asked.
“I’ll decide on that once I know what it’s about.”
Now Binx was really curious. And nervous. What could Div want to talk about that had to be kept private?
“I’m just going to come out and say it. It seems like Greta wants Iris Gooding and Penelope Hart to join your coven. And you guys have probably guessed that I want them to join our coven.”
Binx didn’t respond.
“I’ll be totally honest with you, Binx,” Div went on. “Greta’s very—how shall I put it?—admirable. Pure and wholesome and old-fashioned in her approach to magic. Flower petals and healing potions and goddesses and all that. And if that’s her thing, fine, I respect that. But I’m very worried that her approach isn’t going to stop what’s coming.”
“What’s that?”
“The Antima revolution.”
“Revolution?” Binx repeated. Was the girl serious? “I mean, the Antima are disgusting and evil, sure, and they absolutely need to be stopped. But this isn’t like… you know… the French Revolution or the American Revolution or whatever. The Antima aren’t starting a war against witches.”
“Actually, I think they are,” Div said. “Have you read any of their stuff on social media? They hate us, and they feed off each other’s rage. They spread lies about us and act like we’re the ones who are organizing a revolution to take over. And their power is growing. So is their violence toward witches. You heard what happened to that witch in Texas, right? I heard there are other incidents like that, too, but the witches don’t report it because they’re afraid to go to the police; they’re afraid of getting arrested. And do you know about all the mysterious pet disappearances lately? Dozens of cases in New York and California and Texas. I believe those are familiars being taken by Antima. And that it’s only a matter of time before pets—familiars—start disappearing here in Washington State.”
Binx hadn’t heard about the unreported witch beatings or the missing animals. It all made her feel queasy. And scared. And angry. “Continue. I’m listening.”
“The Antima haven’t killed any witches yet. That we know of. But it’s going to happen, and we need to stop it—stop them—before it gets to that point. That’s why I need your help.”
“Me? How can I help?”
“By joining my coven. And convincing Ridley to join, too, if you think she might be open to it. I’m not sure about Greta,” Div said, almost as an afterthought. “But yes, maybe if you and Ridley join, Greta will come to her senses and realize that we need to take extreme measures… extreme magical measures, not pretty little flower petal potions… to put an end to the Antima. And if I can get Iris and Penelope, too, then we’d have eight witches. Imagine the power we could generate against the Antima, casting group spells with eight witches!”
Binx switched her phone from one ear to the other. “Put an end to the Antima how?”
“I’m not talking about killing Antima members, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’re better than that. I’m talking about using our craft to change them. Inventing some crazy-powerful group spell, like memory-erase combined with mind-control combined with… I’m not sure yet. Something fantastic, something that will force the Antima to stop hating and hurting witches.” Div added, “We can start with the Antima at our school, and work our way up from there. And we can inspire other witches across the country to do the same.”
Binx didn’t respond right away. She realized that she had jumped to her feet, that she had goose bumps, that she was actually excited by Div’s idea. Which was weird. This was Div. Still, the leader of the Triad had managed to come up with an interesting (and possibly effective) plan to defeat the Antima.
“Okay. I’m not going to say I’m not intrigued, but…”
“But?”
“I can’t do that to Greta. I mean, don’t get me wrong. She and I, we don’t always get along, and we’re really different people.” Understatement. “But it seems super-disloyal to bail on her and switch to another coven. Especially when it’s—” Binx hesitated.
“I know. My coven. Greta and I aren’t exactly BFFs.”
“Yup.”
Binx didn’t voice her other concern, which was that she’d be forced to be coven-mates with Mira
