Desdemona joined the priestess in the grand hallway of the mansion. The strange little goblin creature named Benny had taken her things and disappeared into the mansion. Still irritated, Desdemona fidgeted and grasped her upper arm tightly.

“What now?” she asked the other woman.

The priestess had a mass of red hair that she wore wild around her shoulders. Her green eyes gleamed at Desdemona with hidden knowledge that made her at once frightened and curious.

“I assume Arch-Priestess Lucia gave you introductory instructions.”

“She told me a bunch of crap about why I should stay here,” Desdemona said.

“Well, my name is Bridget and I will be your tutor.”

“Tell me, Bridget, how many times have you been on the mating rotation?” Desdemona asked.

“My name hasn’t come up yet.”

“Really? And how long have you been here?”

“Two years, give or take.”

“Two years. And you haven’t been forced to take a husband yet?”

“I don’t think you fully understand how this process works. The witches of this temple are not without power. We cast powerful spells that ensure each woman is guaranteed her best match. Mine simply has not arrived yet.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Let’s get you settled in. I’m sure you are tired from the road.”

Bridget started down the hall, her last words giving away her irritation with Desdemona’s questions. They took the elevator up to the third floor and started down another wide hallway with doors on each side. Women walked up and down the hall, mostly smiling, wearing those beautiful dresses they all had. Bridget stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and opened it.

“You’ll have your own room, since you’re new.”

“Great…”

They walked into the room, and Desdemona had to gasp in spite of herself. She’d been living in a building that basically amounted to a shack with wood heat and one standpipe for running water. This room was luxurious beyond belief. It was the kind of thing she only saw in TV shows about celebrities before the dark times.

There was a big bed with a fluffy comforter. A broad bank of windows looked out onto the forest grove behind the mansion. French doors opened onto a patio and a brick fireplace held a crackling fire that warmed the room to a toasty temperature she hadn’t felt since summer.

Her things were all sitting at the foot of the bed and a sapphire blue robe was spread across the white bedspread. She bit her lip, taking in all the extravagance. As much as she resented having to come here, she couldn’t help but be enchanted by the beauty of her accommodations.

“This room is for me?”

“I assume it’s nicer than what you have been used to recently.”

“I shared a room in a log cabin with my sister. I had the top bunk.”

“Things will be slightly different for you from now on.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be forced into prostituting myself to an immortal.”

“You are an immortal. Didn’t you realize that?”

“Sure, but I don’t get to make any choices for my life.”

“The current mating stipulation will be temporary. Once our kind regain our ancient knowledge, we will be able to better defend ourselves. The world is lawless after the Dark Sun. But it won’t remain that way. However, you can rest assured that any man who we allow to our mating rituals will have already been vetted by our Patriarch, Orion Silverdrake.”

“And what does he know?”

“He’s five thousand years old and one of the most powerful immortals alive on Earth today.”

“But not powerful enough to keep us from being forced into selling ourselves.”

“Orion has made the arrangements he’s needed to make for everyone’s best interest. We’ve had hundreds of successful matches since the new temple was founded. Not a single witch is unhappy with her new life.”

“How do you know that?”

“We keep tabs on each of the witches we match. We don’t just let them go off into the unknown without any safety guidelines.”

“Thank God for small favors.”

“It is clear you are deeply unhappy to be here. Many young women are when they’ve been brought by a parent. It is a typical reaction. No one will force you to stay. But if you do stay, you must abide by our rules.”

Bridget started toward the door, clearly done with Desdemona’s difficult behavior.

“Wait, I have one more question. Do you marry off the little kids and old women here?”

“Of course not,” Bridget spat out. “Women not of childbearing age are given protection with immunity. When the children grow into childbearing age, they enter the rotation if they choose to stay. We even give training to women who are married to human men and wish to remain so. I’ve personally worked with the Arch-Priestess since the inception of the temple and I can guarantee you we’ve done everything we can to respect the autonomy of our sisters. Now, I must be going. I have to prepare for the afternoon ritual. I will leave you to rest.”

Bridget slid out the door and Desdemona was left alone in the gorgeous bedroom. She looked around and decided to explore what was behind the two doors. She walked over to the one near the bed and pulled it open. It was full of flowy robe-like gowns.

Her mouth dropped and she turned to check out what was behind door number two. She strode to the door and yanked it open, finding a luxurious bathroom just beyond. It was better than the bathrooms her family had had in their suburban home before the Dark Sun. It was hard for her to believe that this was all for her to use now.

She walked into the tiled room and turned on the water. It flowed into a big clean tub. After a few minutes, it was full and she poured a sweet scented oil into the water from one of the glass bottles sitting beside it. It smelled of lavender and honey.

After peeling out of her dirty old clothes, she sank into the water. The warmth lapped over her tired body. The little scrapes and scratches on her skin from the lifestyle she’d lived for two years stung in the full body soak, but she ignored it. The warmth loosened her tight muscles and soothed her weary soul. It had been a long time since she’d last felt so relaxed.

Without realizing it, she fell asleep in the bath and didn’t wake up until the water had turned cold. She woke with a start, nearly sliding into the water. Gasping, she climbed out of the tub and toweled off with the big fluffy towel. Wrapping herself in a bathrobe, she walked out into the bedroom to find the fire had died down.

Desdemona threw a few logs on the fire and climbed into the fluffy bed without taking off the bathrobe. Fatigue started to take over. She fell into slumber as soon as her wet head hit the pillow and she didn’t wake again until there was a knock at the door.

She groggily climbed out of bed and opened the door to find Bridget standing on the other side.

“Oh, you were sleeping,” Bridget said. “We are at dinner in the main dining room. Or I can have something brought up if you’d prefer to stay in your rooms.”

“I’ll come down,” Desdemona said, yawning.

“Very good,” Bridget said, walking off down the hall.

Desdemona shut the door and went about getting ready to show herself in public. It had been a long time since she’d done her hair or put on makeup, but she wasn’t used to going around with tangled hair, wearing a bathrobe. She put on clean underthings from the closet, brushed out her hair, and grabbed the blue silky robe that still lay over the rumpled bedspread.

She slipped into the garment, feeling the silky soft fabric slide over her skin. It was so luxurious and comfortable she couldn’t place what kind of fabric it was. It felt too thick to be silk, but too fine to be cotton. The embroidery around the neck, of coiling vines and blooming pink flowers was made of the same silky feeling material. She made a mental note to ask someone about it. Desdemona was a musician, not a seamstress, but she loved beautiful clothing as much as any girl.

When she was prepared as possible, she left her room and made her way down to the first floor of the mansion to the dining room. All the women were there. This time she also saw the one man who lived at the mansion, who must have been Orion Silverdrake, Arch-Priestess Lucia’s husband.

There was more animation among the women during the evening meal than there had been at breakfast. Lucia and Orion were seated at a table at the head of the room with a baby of about a year old. Lucia was already pregnant again and it was only two years since the dark times. These immortals didn’t waste any time. She wondered if she’d be expected to breed like that when she was given to an immortal. The thought of it made her recoil in disgust.

She walked to the banquet, smelling the scent of food wafting through the air. She grabbed a plate and put it on a tray before starting down the line behind a few other women. Most of the group were already seated. When she was done loading her plate with the second huge meal of the day, a group of women walked onto a small raised platform with musical instruments in their hands.

Desdemona sat at a table facing the musicians and watched as they tuned up and began to play. She could feel the energy of the magic swirling through the room.

Even with steak and potatoes on her plate, she could barely eat from the excitement. She wondered if they’d let her join their band. After shoving several bites into her mouth, she started to stand up, intending to go upstairs for her guitar.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Bridget said, walking up behind her.

“That’s exactly what my magic does,” Desdemona said.

“Would you like to join them?”

“Yeah. I’m going to get my guitar.”

“I’m sure you can play one of the extras. We have many instruments and few musicians. It is a very special skill, Desdemona. One you’ve probably only scratched the surface of.”

She slid out of her chair and approached the small rise of the stage where the women continued to play something that sounded like a traditional Irish reel. The violinist was extremely gifted for a girl not much older than Desdemona. She could barely contain her admiration as her heart jumped up in her throat at the sound of the violin music.

The woman closest to her nodded her silver-haired head and Desdemona stepped up onto the stage. There was a stack of instruments along the back wall behind the band. She found an acoustic guitar and strummed it quietly check its tuning. Hearing that it was in perfect tune, she turned to join the rest of the players.

Closing her eyes, she felt the music and found her place in the melody, strumming chords in support of the soloist. The feeling of playing with other witch musicians was beyond anything she ever could have imagined. In that moment, Desdemona decided that she was glad she’d come.