Hailey sighs and says, “No sense waiting. Might as well see what this is.” She is sitting in her room alone on her bed with a box next to her. Having just arrived home from school, her parents gave her a package that arrived on her doorstep.

The box itself is unremarkable, ordinary cardboard with no distinguishing marks. “And no return label?” Hailey asks herself as she tilts the heavy box this way and that. After searching a couple of the sides she exclaims softly, “Ah, there you are.” Turning the box on it’s side she inspects the label. “Winter and Sons? A law firm?” Shrugging, Hailey turns the box back over and, using a flicker of magic, slices the tape open in a neat motion.

Reaching inside, she pulls out a folded letter with her name on the front. Setting it aside for now, she looks down into the box. “Books?” Hailey continues digging. “And more books.” She pauses to read a few titles. “Esoteric, Eldritch, and Eternal: A Guide to the Beyond? Battle Magic? The Construction of Languages? Arcane Linguistics? The Lesser Key of Solomon? The Divine Monarchy and the Devil’s Parliment? What are all these?”

Confused, she turns back to the letter and unfolds it. In spidery cursive, it begins.

“Child,” the word is crossed out, replaced by, “Hailey. My instructions for this bequeathing are specific. I gave the lawyers a mystic token tied to my life. Should it go out, they are to wait several months and then send this box to you. So, if they have followed my will properly, then I am gone.”

Hailey pauses, reading the sentence a few times and feeling the weight of it sink in before continuing.

“I confess, I am not a sentimental person. My quest to free my ancestor and destroy the wizard Thorm Athow consumed much of my life to the detriment of all else. I made few friends, had few companions, and only one family member. But now I have two, and so I am making arrangements for you in the event of my passing.”

Hailey swallows, and sits back on her bed somberly as she continues to read.

“The box contains a selection of important tomes. Each of them will be crucial for you to read and understand as you progress down the path to becoming a witch. At the bottom of the box is a key, it will allow you to make use of a small pocket plane much like the Starry Realm. There I left the rest of my tomes and books on magic. Use them wisely. This collection has been a part of my family for as long as we have existed, passed down from mother to daughter in an unending path. Care for it.”

“I will,” Hailey promises as she runs her fingers across the cover of the books with one hand.

“Beside knowledge, I leave you with this. Magic is a mystery. No matter how many of her secrets you uncover there will always be more waiting. On occasion, I have felt the touch of it, some gentle nudge that pushed me to take a different path. I have only ignored those nudges once, and doing so led to my greatest regret. When we met, I placed a geas on you to kill Malefic. This was a mistake, so with my death I free you of the geas. If you choose to let her live or end her life, I am satisfied knowing that in doing so you embody the most powerful of feminist ideals—choice. Choose your own path, Hailey. Choose, secure in knowing that I am content. You are more than I ever expected and will be more than I ever dreamed.”

Hailey drops the letter, blinking back tears as she says with a forced laugh, “Had to get in one last feminist plug, huh Bel?” She sniffs, and re-folds the letter. Turning to the collection of books, she slowly pulls them out until she reaches the bottom where a small wooden box sits. Opening it, she reaches inside and pulls out a necklace with a key. On the back of the key is a word.

“Belinda.”

A rush of magic fills Hailey as her eyes begin to glow faintly. When it subsides, she is in a place that mirrors the Starry Realm except this space has none of Belinda’s affectations. It is a utilitarian library, rows and rows of bookshelves and stacks. Slowly wandering around the space Hailey inspects the books, most of which are in various foreign languages.

“I suppose,” she murmurs, “Bel wasn’t from America." Hailey adopts a pout as she complains, "So not many books in English. Great.”

Spotting a few English texts she hurries over to a small shelf tucked in the corner of the room.

“Now this is more like it!” Hailey exclaims as she pulls a few titles down to check. “Olde English Incantations! Druidic Circles of the Scottish Clans! Merlin’s Cookbook! Morgana’s Mysterium! Wait a second, Merlin’s Cookbook?” Hailey opens the book and browses through several entirely mundane but inventive recipes. “Okay so not everything is a magic book.”

Pausing to take it all in, Hailey looks around the room. A slow smile creeps across her face as she surveys the work of generations of collectors now in her hands. Her eyes roam over the old wood of the shelves to the starry points of light that hang off in the immeasurable distance. The gentle light shines down, illuminating the magic room in a soft glow perfect to ready by. At her feet a faint mist swirls, guiding her through the shelves

“Thanks Bel,” she whispers in the silent room, gazing around the space in contentment.

Closing her eyes, she concentrates and prompts the mist to swirl around her body. When she opens her eyes, she is back in her bedroom with the necklace sitting in her hand. Smiling, she walks to her mirror and fixes the clasp behind her hair. Adjusting the key, she looks at her reflection.

“I look…,” she pauses, her hand curling around the key, “happy.” Hailey whispers the word, letting it sit in the room for a couple minutes. Slowly a fire starts building in her eyes and a smile curls around her mouth. “I’m happy!” Hailey giggles. “Is that okay? To be happy?” She starts laughing, a faint edge of hysteria entering her voice. “Can I do that? Can I be happy?” Tears start as Hailey continues laughing, hard enough that she doubles over before continuing. “Am I allowed? Shouldn’t, shouldn’t something go wrong?” She throws her head back and looks up to the sky, through the ceiling. “Aren’t you going to smite me? Isn’t this the point where someone dies?” Breaking down in tears, Hailey continues to cry as she clutches the key like a lifeline. Laughing hysterically through her tears she whispers, “I’m happy, oh God I’m happy and that’s when all my friends die.”

Hysterically laughing she falls on her butt in front of her mirror. Unable to breathe in between her laughs she continues until she coughs, choking. In the brief silence, Hailey hears her phone ring.

Struggling to contain her laughter, she lifts the phone up and asks, “Who’s dead?”

“What?” Erika asks.

“Sorry, just a joke,” Hailey says with a hysterical giggle. “What’s up?”

The line remains silent for a few seconds. Then Erika asks, “Are you okay?”

Hailey struggles to pull herself together before replying. “Yeah, I’m happy! I’m just happy.” She snorts, a small laugh sneaking out before she can clamp her hand over her mouth.

“Come by my office tonight.”

Hailey nods unthinkingly, and then quickly says aloud, “Okay.” Before she can commit any more gaffes, she hangs up the phone in a rush.

Letting her phone fall on the ground, Hailey stares at herself in the mirror before slowly lifting her sleeves up to wipe away her tears and clear her face. As she does, her phone buzzes. With a flick, Hailey turns on the screen and sees a message from Missy. A moment later the phone buzzes again, this time signaling a message from Ginny. Hailey stares at the phone for a few seconds before decisively turning it off. Leaving it on the floor, she drags herself over to her bed and crawls up on top of the blankets. Curling into a ball, she continues to gaze aimlessly at the mirror. From this angle, she cannot see her reflection. Instead, the mirror shows her new books, reflected from the foot of her bed where she left them lying out. Curled up, Hailey drifts to sleep.

As she dreams, a voice curls around her ear, “Hhhheeeaaarrrrrr yoouuuu. Heearr yooouuuu ccrryyinnng ouuttt.”

The voice whispers, shaking Hailey awake.

“Hhheee-”

“Honey?”

Groggy, Hailey asks, “Huuhhh?”

“Wake up,” her mother says in a gentle voice. “You fell asleep. Wake up honey.”

Hailey wakes to the feeling of her mother softly stroking her hair.

“Ugh,” she says, “right. Sorry mom.”

Helping her daughter sit up, her mother says, “Don’t worry about it. How are you feeling?”

She places the back of her hand on Hailey’s forehead.

“You aren’t running a fever, so why did you sleep all afternoon?”

Hailey brushes her mother’s hand off and asks, “Why did dad decide to stay home more? What big secret are you two keeping from me?”

Her mother sighs, a weary expression crossing her face for a moment before she schools her features with a smile. “Hailey,” she begins, “your father and I have discussed this. We will tell you everything when you are ready.”

“When I’m older,” Hailey grumbles.

“Exactly,” her mother agrees. Then she casts her eye around the room and spots some of the books and the cardboard box they came in. “So, what’s all this? Your package was books?”

“Yeah,” Hailey says as she pushes them out of the way. “School project.”

Her mother fixes her with a look that clearly says she believes none of it. Then, letting it go, she says, “Alright. We can revisit that later. Care to come down for dinner?”

“If I say yes, will you tell me about whatever you and dad are keeping secret?”

Her mother smiles and pats Hailey on the head, ruffling her hair. “So melodramatic. We aren't keeping secrets honey. There are just certain things we don't share with you.”

"But you have to be! Dad said so," Hailey protests.

Her mother sighs. "Just because we don't tell you everything doesn't mean we have secrets."

Frustrated, Hailey asks, “Is dad a superhero?”

Surprised, her mother laughs. “You think your father is a superhero? Honey have you met him? Your father couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Oh,” Hailey says, disappointed. “Well is he a super accountant or something? Like does he do the books for the Association?”

Quizzical, Hailey’s mother looks at her. “No. At least not as far as he or I know. Why the obsession with superheroes?”

“No reason,” Hailey quickly replies before asking, “So what is it then? Does dad work for criminals?”

Giving her daughter a pained look as she pinches the bridge of her nose, Hailey’s mother stands up from the bed. “Young lady, your father is not a criminal.”

“Then what is he?”

“He’s your father, and that's all that should matter to you,” she replies. “Now come on, we have dinner ready.”

Grumbling, Hailey complies. “You never tell me anything.”

“Yes dear,” her mother replies from outside her room. “Now come and eat before your dinner gets cold.”

With a sigh, Hailey complies and begins shuffling toward the door of her bedroom.

As she does, a voice calls out after her in a faint echo. “Iiiii hhheeaaar yoouuuuu. Doooo youuu hheaaar meeee?”

Pausing slightly at the sound, Hailey whispers under her breath, “Yes,” before rushing out of her room and quickly closing the door behind her with a guilty expression on her face.

A surprising message from Belinda, followed by more messages from the voice! While the voice continues to hang ominously above Hailey’s head, the message from Belinda is a welcome gift. No doubt, this inheritance from Belinda comes with some measure of peace for our emotionally embattled heroine, but will it be enough to lift her out of her depression? Only time will tell. The story continues next week in… “The Warning!”