I arrive at the gates of the Main House, the ancestral house of all Elders going back generations. It still doesn't feel right that I'm here, given that most of them rejected me, but I remind myself that the Elders didn't create this beautiful home, she did.

Still, it isn't home to me. Not yet. I'm not sure that it will ever feel like that. The last time I was here, I was Amara's prisoner. I know the dungeons quite well--the strange sounds, the eerie smell, the forbidden taste of freedom at the other side of a wall. I want to make it the first place I visit, and the first job that I complete.

Erin and Max meet me at the entrance. It's early and they look ready for anything, but I'm tired and I'm still reeling from my encounter with Sam last night. I haven't made much of an effort. Erin is plastered in make-up and wears a white suit with a short skirt that shows off her long, slim legs. Her blonde hair is curled in patterns of waves that fall around her shoulders and she looks as though she's been awake since dawn preparing for this moment. I, on the other hand, woke up, brushed my teeth and threw on the first thing I could feel in my dresser.

"Welcome home," Erin says, smiling as I approach her tiredly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Best sleep of my life," I mutter, walking into the house.

It's. . . different. Very different.

When I was last here, the walls were a depressing, dark grey and I could smell the misery from within the paint. It was lonely, with hardly any colour, furniture or life. Now, it looks as though a team has been working through the night to make this the renovation of the century. The walls have been freshly painted white, the carpet has been ripped up and has been replaced with a smooth, brown laminate flooring. There is a new chandelier on the ceiling, which sparkles when the light touches it. As I move throughout the house, I notice that each room has been decorated to erase any proof that Amara even lived here. The lounge has brand new couches, complete with fluffy red and white pillows, and there is a white desk in the corner underneath an oval window with a leather chair to the back of the wall.

"Does this usually happen?" I ask.

"Renovation?" Erin says. "Yes, it's tradition. The house must match the personality of each new Elder. I didn't take you for a miserable and grey-loving girl."

I suddenly think of the castle and I gulp. "I think I preferred it how it was."

"Oh," she says, exchanging a look with Max. "Well, we can put it back to-"

"No," I say. "This is great. I can see you've gone to a lot of trouble. It'll just take some getting used to."

"Well this is your home now," Erin says. "You own it. You can change anything. Do you want to see upstairs?"

"No," I say. "Take me to the dungeons."

"The. . . dungeons?" Erin whispers. "But we worked really hard on the bedrooms and-"

Max nudges her and Erin bites her lip. "Sure, we can take you there," he says. "There's a passage to the first floor anyway, we can show you on the way back."

"I know that passage well," I say.

"This way." Erin takes the lead, which I expected, and I follow her to the back of the house. I glance inside the kitchen as we pass it, my eyes meeting the startled and terrified looks of several in-house chefs that Amara must have hired.

"I don't understand," I say. "Who else lives here?"

"Many do," Erin says. "There are fifteen bedrooms in total. Amara's bedroom was the one on the second floor, she wanted the entire floor to herself. On the first floor, most of her staff live. Maids, servants, chefs, gardeners. All mortals. She enslaved them, basically, but they have nowhere else to go. It's up to you what you do with them."

"What I do with them?"

Erin coughs nervously. "I mean, if you want them to leave, just give the word. But they're like tamed animals, if you throw them out into the wild, they might not know how to survive."

I don't like her choice of her words, but I'm beginning to understand her way of communicating.

"I'll talk to the staff later," I say. "Right now, I want to know who is imprisoned here and what for."

"Right," Erin says. "We have all the relevant information here." She flips through a few pages of the giant folder that she's holding and she takes out a piece of paper. I hold out my hand and she passes it me.

I start reading the names and offences as we descend down a staircase into a cold and dark tunnel. I'm startled to find that the crimes are not even that severe. Actually, I'm pissed.

Amanda Burton, age 31, – White Coven, Level 3- Offence: Refusing to attend an audience with the Elder. Sentence: three months.

Harley Gemini, age 22, - Gemini Coven, Level 4- Offence: Threatening behaviour toward the Elder, including the threat of 'sending the main house into a sinkhole.' Sentence: six months.

Matt Morley, age 20, – Morley Coven, Level 5- Offence: Loving a mortal. Sentence: one year.

Taylor Middleton, age 17, - Middleton Coven, Level 2- Offence: Pregnant with a mortal's baby. Sentence: ten years.

I have to stop against a wall to process this. There are many more names, and the offences are similar. But the pregnant teenager is the one that hits me harder than the rest. How long has she been down here? Scared? Stressed? Thinking that no one out there is going to save her or her unborn baby. Amara sentenced her to ten years down here, so what the hell was she planning on doing with an innocent baby?

"You look shocked," Erin says. "We told you, she hated mortals just as much as Slayers. She made it illegal for Wiccans to even breathe in their direction. It was only her security that were allowed to carry out interactions."

"How long has this been girl been down here?" I demand.

"Two months," Erin says.

"And since Amara died did you not think to let her out?" I hiss, storming down the stairs. "If I had known the pettiness of these crimes, I never would have gone home last night."

"That isn't our decision to make," Erin says as she rushes to catch up to me. "We can't just undo an Elder's law because they're dead. That power lies with the next leader."

"The moment she's free, I want her checked over by a doctor," I say. "And get word to her family, they'll probably want to come get her."

"It's likely that her coven disowned her once they discovered who she'd been sleeping with," Erin mutters. "But I'll see what I can do."

At the doorway to the dungeons, two male warlocks stand guard. Their heads go higher when they see me, it's still a notion that I'm getting used to.

"Let them go," I order. "Let them all go."

The guards drop their eyes and for a moment I think they're going to disagree with me, but they eventually turn around and I hear the jingle of keys as they start unlocking the doors along the narrow and damp hallway.

When their cell doors open, the prisoners take careful and slow steps into the light. They're confused, and glancing around for signs of a trick, but when they realise Amara isn't here, something in their eyes just clicks.

"You're free to go," I say.

"W-what?" a woman asks. "What about Amara?"

"Amara is dead. Your covens are waiting to see you. Most of you are here because you were caught with a mortal." I step to the side, my back pressing against the wall. "Go find them."

A man, who I assume is Matt, a level five, smiles to himself at the thought of it. "Is this for real?"

"It's real," Erin says. "We have a new Elder now. And she revokes Amara's law of coercing with mortals. You are free."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

As they excitedly walk towards the exit, I nod my head for the guards to take them out of the building safely. There is only one prisoner left, and I frown at her cell door at the end of the hallway.

Erin steps forwards. "Do you want me to-?"

I shake my head, placing a hand on her arm to stop her. "Wait here."

I walk down the hallway, glancing at my own cell as I pass it. It's a lifetime ago when I was down here, locked away in that small space, with shackles around my wrist and having to rely on Joey for just a little comfort. I was only here for a day, so I can't imagine what's it been like for Taylor, or the rest of them. Adjusting is going to be hard.

I pause outside her cell door, observing her softly as she gently tosses underneath the thin duvet of her bed.

"Taylor?" I whisper. "I know you're scared, but I promise you are safe now. You can come out."

"No," she says. "It's a trick."

"It's not a trick. Amara is gone, she's not coming back."

"She said she'd kill my baby if I tried to leave," she says. "She cursed it. I can't leave."

"What do you mean?" I say, entering the room. "Did she cast a spell?"

"No." She gently lifts her head out of her duvet and looks at me. When she sees that I'm lightly smiling, she pushes herself up the bed. "But that's how manifestation works, isn't it?"

I shake my head, leaning backwards into the wall. "That's not how it works. Manifestation is a will of something, a hope, a wish. It's not a curse. And I swear to you, she'd have to be alive for it to work."

Tears begin to fill her soft and lonely blue eyes. Even with damaged and matted brown hair that sticks around her dusty and exhausted face, I can tell she's beautiful. She's a level two, so has a lot to learn, but none of that should matter. It doesn't matter. She's still only young, and has a baby to prepare for. She'll need the support of her coven, and if they reject her, then she can build a home here.

"Are you the new leader?" she cries.

"Yes, but, I'm not here as one now. I'm not going to tell you what to do and I'm not going to force you to do anything you're uncomfortable with. But you need help."

"I have nowhere to go," she says, wiping underneath her eyes. "Amara said that my coven didn't want me, that they were glad to be rid of me. She said that I committed an unforgivable sin and that I betrayed my kind. I didn't plan for this; I fell in love with a mortal but when I found out I was pregnant he freaked out and denied everything."

"Denying you, probably saved his life," I whisper. "Otherwise Amara would have killed him or locked him away in a Red Camp. You were the sinner in her eyes, not him. But you have the chance to know for sure."

"No," she says. "She killed him; I know she did. I'm not worthy of happiness."

"That's crap," I say, stepping away from the wall. "Amara did to you what she tried to do to me. She tried to break my spirit and erase my confidence. She tried to make me feel worthless and unwanted, but I was stronger than her hate. And you are too. She is dead, she is never going to hurt you again, you survived her."

"What difference does it make if I have no coven?" she demands desperately. "No home."

"I've spent five years without a coven, and I think I'm doing okay," I say. "But my coven was taken from me, you will always have a chance to put things right. Amara was a twisted and unhinged leader that lied to hurt others. So, if she said that your coven didn't want you, then it's more likely that they've spent two months frantically trying to free you. Let me help you."

I offer my hand. She accepts my help slowly, extremely slowly, and I patiently wait as she weakly exits the bed. She has a small bump underneath her ripped nightgown and she rubs a hand over it as she balances herself. She's smaller than I thought and I contemplate whether or not to carry her out of here, but she decides to walk, or rather limp, her way out of the cell.

"What's your name?" she asks me.

"Theresa," I say.

"Thank you, Theresa."

Erin and Max smile as we approach them, and I cringe at how fake it is. They don't care about the prisoners, or their safety, they only care about pleasing me. They're starting to annoy me with it.

I guide Taylor out of the underground and back through the house. Once she's comfortably resting on a couch in the lounge, I take Erin and Max into the front entranceway.

"Did you call for a doctor?" I say.

"Yes, I told Ed to contact one once he'd seen the prisoners off the property. He's calling for one now."

"Good," I say. "I want you to contact her parents and get them to come here."

"That might be difficult."

"No, it isn't. She's seventeen, pregnant, and terrified. If they refuse to come then order them to. Whatever it takes."

"Fine," Erin sighs. "Anything else?"

"Clothes," I say. "She needs fresh clothes and she's probably hungry." I turn to Max. "That can be your job seeing as though I don't actually know what you do."

"I'll get right on it," he says, turning to walk towards the kitchen.

"Why can't you have the same response as him?" I ask Erin.

"Because I'm a believer in the freedom of speech. Speaking of which, where's the redhead?"

"Drunk somewhere." I shrug, turning back towards the lounge. "Her parents. Now."

I walk back into the lounge and I start apologizing for leaving her, only to find her sprawled out on the couch fast asleep. She looks peaceful and safe, something that she hasn't felt in a long time. I know what that's like.

I approach the window at the end of the room and I observe the quiet courtyard. The prisoners are gone, which is good, but I turn my attention to the workers. There is a man sweeping away the leaves on the driveway and another man trimming the hedges at the far east side of the yard. They look exhausted and broken, as though Amara has taken everything from them. I don't know if there's a back yard to this house yet, but if there is, I imagine there will be more out there, too. I'm not interested in exploring my new home, or learning about secret passageways and viewing the newly renovated bedrooms, I just want to make people's lives easier—better. That's why I'm here. It's why I sacrificed everything.

I see the security begin to walk towards the gate suddenly, and I straighten at the window. A man and a woman are running towards the house, only to be met by four warlocks that push them backwards. I glance at Taylor, who is unaware of just how desperate her parents really are to see her. The shouting outside wakes her up, and she blinks to herself tiredly as she looks around.

"What's that?" she says.

"Stay here," I say.

Erin is already at the door, with a confused look. I open the door, forcing her to move aside. I suddenly realise that everyone is trying to protect me. I don't need protecting, from anything, but I don't think I get a say in it.

"Please, we need to speak with the Elder!" a woman shouts. "Theresa! Theresa, please, please let us through!"

"It's okay," I say to the warlocks. "Let them pass."

They run at me. Taylor looks so much like her mother. They share the same blue eyes, the same shade of brown hair, even the same small and pointy nose. Her father is the tallest of them, with a lighter shade of brown hair that is thinning at the top. He is large and quite intimidating, but he carries a broken and pleading look.

"I know we shouldn't just turn up like this," the woman says. "But once we heard that Amara was dead, we've been waiting for the new leader to give us information. Our daughter was taken from us and imprisoned here and we understand she committed a crime against our kind but she's young and she's vulnerable, and we've been waiting weeks to hear of an update. Please, if you could just tell us how she is, then we'll be on our way."

"Uh. . ." I glance back to the window, and Taylor is watching. She steps away slowly, and I turn back to her parents. "I was just about to have someone contact you, actually. I've arranged for a doctor to come and check her over but she seems okay. She's inside if you want to see her."

The woman sobs for a moment and places a hand to her chest. "What are you saying? Are you saying she's free to come home?"

"Yeah, she's free. But like I said, I think she should be checked over first, it might not be wise for her to leave in her condition."

"What condition?" the man demands.

Oh no. I turn and look at Erin, who raises an eyebrow with a sly grin. I rub my temple and I have no idea what to say.

"I think you should come with me," I say.

Now they're panicking and I don't know how to calm them. Whatever they're thinking it is, it's going to be a thousand times more shocking. They follow me through the door and into the lounge, and I know I can't be the one to say it. That power, and choice, lies with Taylor.

"Taylor!" her mother sobs. "Oh, baby! You're here."

Taylor stands with her back to us at the other side of the room. I observe silently from the doorway.

"It's alright," her father says. "Amara can't hurt you anymore. We're going to take you home."

"Your room is the same as it was," her mother says. "We haven't touched anything. We thought we'd have to wait ten years to see you again. We want you to know that we forgive you, and we love you."

"We never stopped loving you."

"Taylor," I whisper. "It's okay. Your parents love you, and they're here. Don't be afraid."

"Why would she be afraid?" her mother demands.

I bite on my lip as Taylor slowly turns around. She takes a deep breath and caresses her small bump that is visible through the gown. I watch the life leave her parents' faces as they stare so hard that time stands still.

"Is that-?" her mother begins.

"Did he do that to you?" her father hisses.

"I thought Amara had told you," Taylor whispers. "But I realised you couldn't have known because otherwise you wouldn't have turned up."

"H-how?" her mother asks. "I mean, I know how, but how could you be so stupid!"

"I don't think the how matters right now," I say. "You're glad she's safe, right?"

Her mother takes a deep breath. "Yes, of course we are."

"Then that's all that matters. Taylor needs support right now. She's spent weeks in a dungeon being told that she's worthless and unwanted by Amara. It's a shock right now, but their health should be the first concern."

"You're right." Her mother breathes heavily and walks towards her daughter to embrace her. "I'm sorry."

Taylor collapses into cries as her mother hugs her. When her father joins them, I realise it's a private moment that I feel I shouldn't be here for.

"Stay here and talk for as long as you need," I say. "I'll let you know when the doctor arrives."

I leave the room and I close the door behind me. Erin grins at me from across the entranceway.

"What?" I say.

"Nothing," she says. "It's just nice to see an Elder that cares. I mean, this started out as a tour and you ended up bringing a family together. I'm beginning to understand why Samara chose you."

"I just wish I could do the same for the mortals in the Red Camps. They're trapped in there with no way out and I have no idea where to even start to look for the anchors."

"At least you have Elder magic now, so you can drop the shield to enter them. Only you can leave, though."

"Fifteen camps," I say worriedly. "Do you know how many mortals are trapped in total?"

"There's roughly two hundred in each one. The camps are quite big, though. They have beds and buckets."

"Buckets?" I clench my teeth. "Once I'm done here, I'll start with the camps. Can you round up enough supplies for over three thousand people?"

Erin laughs.

"I'm being serious."

"Oh. Today? It's your first day as Elder, don't you think you have more important decisions to make than. . ."

I stop listening to her as something flies around my face. I flap my hand around the air, touching something small and annoying, I squat it against the wall and I wipe the remains of it against my clothes. I look back to Erin, to find her staring at me with her eyes wide and her face a blank sheet of white.

"Did you just kill-?" she starts, but then she hisses in pain as her bracelet sets on fire. She drags it from her wrist as she jumps, and the bracelet turns to dust in mid-air.

"Oh my god," I whisper, looking at the dead moth that's splatted against the wall. "Please tell me I didn't just do what I think I just did."

"How the hell did it get out of my room?" she says, before turning back to looking like a ghost. "You killed it. Even Amara couldn't kill it. Nothing could kill it."

"Your bracelet," I say. "It destroyed the anchor, too."

"Yeah, so if the spell was destroyed, the objects will turn to dust. I don't think you realise how powerful representational magic is. The link you create between two things is everlasting. Until one is destroyed, of course. How did you do that?"

I touch the amulet. "I'm immune to spells. I didn't think it could work like that, but maybe Samara can help us."

"But what if-"

"Max!" I scream.

He appears a few seconds later at the top of the staircase. "Yes?"

"Erin and I need to leave for a while. Make sure the doctor gets in here safely. And keep an eye on the family."

"What family?"

"We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Will we?" Erin demands. "You do realise this isn't going to work, right? The only way to free those mortals is to destroy the anchors."

"Tell that to your dead pet," I say. "Take me to them."

She sighs, but gives in. She conjures a portal that sizzles with a light pinkness. As we step into it, I feel the hunger of my Elder magic growl for the first time. It'll be something poetic that the first time I use will be to fight against it. I guess this is my life now, saving one person after another.

And I couldn't think of anything better.