Book One – Chapter 2

The instant the Witch Moon ruptured the world’s currents, everything else changed with; it everything sustained by them. The draw towards  faltered. The white fire churned and choked on its own breath; its roar collapsed into a smothered rattle and then suffocated. The lightning vanished. There was no last blaze, no final flare of violence across the pit, only abrupt absence, from one burst to the next. In the darkness below, only matter continued: the restless scrape of shard against stone, loose debris still sliding, sinking and never settling.

This moment marked the beginning of M̊ÄR̥̊ă̡̹̆̀ͅh͇̺͚̊͌ͅn̡̛̲̩ͦ̿̇̄ͮä̽͌ͬͥͧr̠͙̫ͧ , the Witches’ New Year. It took place every eleven years. It was the only day on which the Witching Hour persisted throughout the night.