by CK Dawn
“That’s just great! But maybe you wouldn’t mind telling me what the hell I’m supposed to do with it now?” Chloe asked, a mix of astonishment mingling with her anger as she watched the flames dance along the blade. Wait. Did she say he? Chloe wondered to herself.
“Tell me, love; when you touched the sword, were you irritated? Maybe thinking of me and my disdain for humans?”
“Yes,” Chloe admitted, looking to Bram for reassurance. She could feel a surge of power resonating from the sword. It felt like it wanted to be unleashed on the world and bathe in the blood of a glorious battle. The power was intoxicating.
“Chloe, you need to calm down. The Spree is neutral ground. If it feels threatened this place will defend itself,” Bram pleaded. He looked worried. But when his eyes fell on the flaming sword, there was a longing in them, a yearning to touch the power Chloe was getting a taste of.
“Think of him.” Mary nodded towards Bram.
“What?” Chloe questioned.
“I wager you’ll garner the opposite effect than I’ve had on the girl.” Mary said.
Bram shot Chloe a worried glance. His confidence in her seemed to have faltered, which only fueled her rage. So, instead, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the sword, controlling it, soothing it, all while calming her own anger. When she opened her eyes, the flames were gone. She focused even harder, and the blade retracted with a metallic shink.
Chloe whipped her head in Mary’s direction. “Don’t say it,” she threatened.
“Oh, I like her.” Mary beamed, and that time, she looked at Chloe when she said it. “Get this poor girl something to eat, for the love of the Goddess; would you?” she instructed Bram without looking at him. “Then, you can be on your way, hmm?” Mary tossed a leather sheath to Chloe before she turned to the shelves behind her in search of something.
The sheath was just the right size for the carved bladeless handle. Chloe strapped it to her upper thigh and made sure it remained hidden under her trench coat. She wondered what would have happened if Bram had taken the sword instead of refusing. How much power would he have wielded?
“Ah,” Mary said, grabbing a tiny glass vial from the shelf above her. “For your wounds.” She walked over to Chloe.
“What is it?” Chloe asked, looking at the almost-empty vial. Particles of what appeared to be white glitter and dust clung to the walls of the tiny vial.
“Crushed bloodstone, three shavings from a unicorn’s horn…” Mary stopped abruptly. Chloe was giving her a horrified look. “I asked his permission first, of course. I’m not a monster.”
She shoved the small vial into Chloe’s hand. “Put this in your soup down at Hilgrid’s, every speck of it. She’ll be expecting you.” Mary swirled her hand around the air near her ear, and green wisps of smoke ventured out of the shop and down the cobblestone road.
“I also need ingredients for several wards. All laced with silver filings.”
“Of course you do. Then, you’ll be on your way.” Mary turned to Bram. “Whether the storm has passed or not, yes,” Chloe noted that, again, it was more of a demand than a question.
“Yes,” he agreed.
“But,” Chloe objected, “how will we…?”
Mary harrumphed. “Fine. You may use the Spree Mirror to portal, but just this once.” The witch thought of something and walked behind her counter again.
“We can portal? Anywhere?” Chloe gasped.
Mary harrumphed. “This isn’t Diagon Alley and the name’s not Harry; it’s Mary.” She chuckled. “No, mortals can’t portal just anywhere like witches. You’d be turned to mush without the proper preparations. But you can use the Spree Mirror.” Chloe was giving her another horrified look mixed with confusion, so Mary explained. “Think of it like your Seattle’s rail system. There are fixed destinations you can use the Mirror to get to. Countless covens and a few centuries later and there you have it –the Mirror, our very own established transportation system interwoven throughout realms. Step into the Spree’s Mirror, and you’re portaled to the closest hub we have to where you want to be. We keep the Mirror on a tight schedule, so don’t be late. The last one’s in an hour. It’s a new moon tonight, so you don’t want to be out when the real darkness comes.” Mary walked back to Chloe and handed her another small vial. She turned to Bram. “This and all the rest are going on your tab.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” Bram said, distracted by something he was holding in his hand. “Add this to the tab as well.” He held up a small gold coin before quickly putting it in his pocket.
Mary grunted.
“What’s this black goo for?” Chloe asked, twisting the vial Mary had just placed in her hand.
“Motion sickness. Traveling through a Spree Mirror can be quite disorienting. At least to humans, or so they say.”
“What’s in it?” Chloe asked. The surface of the thick black liquid inside the vial bubbled up like primordial soup.
Mary scrunched up her nose. “Best to just drink it quick, love.”
“Holy shit! She’s that Mary Bradbury? From the Salem Witch Trials?” Chloe asked as she emptied the contents of the healing potion Mary had given her into her soup.
“One in the same,” Bram said, eating a spoonful of his own soup.
Hilgrid had placed Chloe’s bowl on the table with a warm smile. But when she turned to Bram, she had proceeded to splash half of his soup out onto the table and floor. He thanked her sincerely anyway. Chloe was saddened by the wastefulness, especially with the food shortage she knew to be imminent outside the Spree. Hilgrid had walked off in a disapproving huff and left Chloe and Bram in her now-empty shop.
Chloe spotted a few specks of unicorn horn shavings left in the vile clinging to the glass. She filled her spoon with some broth, carefully poured it into the tiny vial, and swirled it around before upending the vial and drinking it. She was relieved that unicorn horn shavings didn’t have a taste.
Bram chuckled.
“What? She said every speck.” Chloe laughed back.
“No, I know. That was just…cute.” Bram smiled.
“Cute?” She laughed again. “Cute in the apocalypse. Yay me.” Chloe blushed. She had to admit it, though. It was nice having a semi-normal meal and some conversation. Albeit in a Witch’s Spree hidden to human sight, eating with a fae, and about to portal through a magical mirror. Chloe wondered if they’d be transported somewhere close to Coleman Dock or to Bremerton itself. Bram hadn’t offered the location of their desired destination, and Mary hadn’t asked.
Hilgrid came back out with two sweet-smelling cups of coffee and placed one in front of Chloe. “You look like a coffee girl such as myself,” the witch said kindly. She turned to Bram, and her warm smile turned to a sneer. “A sweet farewell gesture courtesy of Mary reminding you to best be on your way, beast.” Hilgrid slammed Bram’s coffee on the table.
Beast? Chloe thought to herself. Just what is Bram’s history with this coven of witches anyway? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, and Bram wasn’t sharing. Hilgrid looked like she was ready to murder Bram where he sat. “Thank you for everything, Hilgrid,” Chloe said, trying to ease the tension. She took sip of coffee in the awkward silence, and it was pure heaven. “Oh my god, I can’t thank you enough for this!” Chloe blurted out. She buried her nose in her cup, inhaled deeply, took a long sip and sighed.
Hilgrid laughed. “You’re welcome, my dear.”
Chloe’s bladder reminded her she hadn’t peed in quite a while. “Please, tell me the Spree comes fully furnished with bathrooms?”
“Either side, where you first came through the Spree. You’re welcome to use any you like, but mind the Ogre’s restroom. It tends to be a bit ripe this time of day.” Hilgrid laughed again and started walking back to her kitchen. “Bast, it’s suppertime, little one. Come on, girl.”
Chloe felt something very small brush affectionately against her leg, right before glowing green eyes peered up at her from underneath their table. A tiny
kitten with silver-and-black Bengal striping came out of from its hiding place, licking its whiskers. The kitten looked between Chloe and Bram and almost seemed to sneer at the male fae before sauntering towards the kitchen.
“Bast?” Bram queried.
The kitten stopped and turned to look at Bram. Her green eyes glowed even brighter, almost in acknowledgement.
“Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. I just thought you’d be...bigger,” Bram said.
Bast exhaled an audible huff and scampered into the kitchen before Hilgrid closed the door.
“Wow, even cute little kittens don’t like you,” Chloe teased.
“That cute little kitten is over three-hundred years old.” Bram gave a quiet chuckle. “Still, I’ve given most the familiars and witches here plenty of reasons to dislike me; I’m afraid,” he said in a more solemn tone.
“They really don’t like you –like you. I mean; it’s like they’re begging you to try something stupid so they can banish you to Hell or something,” she added.
“Or, something.” Bram evaded. He reached across the table and placed his hands, palms up, in front of Chloe. “May I?” He gestured to her hands.
Chloe placed her hands in his. They were so small compared to his, engulfing hers with finger length to spare. His skin was warm, and his touch was gentle. If she really thought about it, man or beast, Bram had always been gentle. Beast? Chloe thought to herself again as she felt two separate heartbeats underneath his skin, just as she had at his apartment, pounding as each pulse coursed through his veins. One beat sounded and then another like a soft echo of the first. Chloe lifted her eyes to Bram’s, and her skin flushed. The whole world faded away. It was as if the thrumming of his hearts were a mating call. It was intoxicating and undeniably seductive. The longer they touched, the faster her own heart started to beat.
Bram seemed to clear his throat reluctantly. It pulled Chloe out of her intoxicated haze. With one hand cupping hers, he softly caressed her fingers before looking away, but he didn’t let go. There was a deep pain in his eyes, an internal struggle over something ancient, Chloe thought. But mixed with his sadness, she saw the light Jessica had mentioned. Chloe’s heart beat even faster, and Bram looked at her, then, and smiled. He waved his hand over hers, revealing the bandages hidden beneath the glamour, like a magician performing a trick.
Chloe unwrapped her bandages and looked at her palms. Mary’s potion had worked. There wasn’t a scratch on them. She thought for sure she would have deep, jagged scars where the faery whips had ripped through her skin. “You’re going to tell me the entire story of this place one of these days, Bram Tice,” she demanded.
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He cracked another small smile.
“And your story,” she persisted. Amazed by how quickly the potion had healed her wounds, Chloe reached up and touched her forehead. Her glamour was still intact, but the tenderness where the gash used to be was gone.
“Restrooms first, human. It’s almost time to portal, and I’ve just about worn out my warm welcome. Can’t you tell?”
“An attempt at self-deprecating humor while facing down the nine levels of Hell doled out by a coven full of witches that hate your guts? I’m impressed.”
“Just wait until you meet someone who really, really doesn’t like me.” Bram chuckled as they got up to leave.
As if on cue, several customers entered Hilgrid’s shop as the pair departed. Chloe thanked Hilgrid again before she and Bram left and headed towards the Spree’s beaded entrance.
As they neared the glowing strands of magical spells, Chloe caught sight of the afore-mentioned Ogre’s restroom door. It was a huge damp, slab of tree bark, overgrown by clumps of moss, which smelled like manure. Several flies buzzed around the door as well. In the middle of the brick wall was a tiny door that looked to be made of blue opaque glass. It was the size of a mouse hole. Chloe wondered how any creature could approach it, since it was three feet off the ground. Next thing she knew, a glowing ball of white light buzzed passed her and into the small doorway. Its trail of pinpricked light marked its path before those, too, disappeared.
“Sprite?” Chloe asked.
“Mhmm,” Bram answered.
On the other side of the Spree’s cobblestone street, right next to the glowing beads, there was a narrow gilded door. It had patterns of leaves, flowers, and vines embossed into the metal. That was definitely the bathroom Chloe was going to use.
Just then, Chloe heard a faint cry for help outside the Spree. Whoever the sound had come from Chloe was sure they were human, very young, and in trouble. Chloe got a knot in her stomach and wanted to throw up. She pulled the curtain of beads to one side and looked far out into the darkened Seattle sky. The storm of dust and blood had passed, but Chloe still couldn’t see anyone. The fish market stood trashed and empty. Feeling helpless and weak, she looked back at Bram.
“Help one or save them all. You can’t do both,” he said.
Movement behind Bram caught Chloe’s eye. Mary and Hilgrid had come out of their shops and were standing in the middle of the street facing each other. They raised their hands, palms facing one another. Blinding white orbs of light the size of baseballs formed between their hands. Four spheres began rotating in their palms. The air between the Spree witches shimmered like the heat-distorted view above a long stretch of highway on a hot summer day. They were opening the Mirror. Chloe looked into the space between the two witches as some of their patrons stepped through the shimmering air. The locations themselves within the Mirror shifted as each new person entered. Chloe saw glimpses of a lush green forest full of magical creatures and then a modern looking city on the edge of an impossibly-high cliff floating among the clouds. Then, she saw a brief glimpse of Seattle through the Mirror, scorched and rotting, before the scene shifted to Coleman Dock. Mary turned to Chloe and Bram, her patience seeming to wear thinner every minute the two did not enter the Mirror.
Suddenly, a young girl’s blood-curdling scream sounded from beyond the beaded curtain again, closer that time; much, much closer. Chloe stood up straight and took in a deep breath. As her instincts kicked in, the knot in her stomach disappeared, and her nausea faded.
“Don’t even think about it. Chloe, no! We have to go,” Bram said. He seemed to know exactly what she was about to do.
Chloe looked at Bram with a defiant gleam in her eye before bolting out of the Spree, leaving it and the portal behind.
7
A Royal Invitation
“Chloe, stop!” Bram yelled running out of the Spree after her.
Chloe kept running in the direction of the young girl’s screams.
“God-dammit.” Bram hissed his displeasure as she was about to reach the market’s entrance where she’d be exposed to Seattle’s darkened sky and all its lurking creatures.
One minute Bram was running to catch up to her, and the next he was in front of her, suddenly blocking her path. “How did you…” Chloe started to ask, coming to a halt right before she ran into his chest.
“Hells, woman, do you ever listen? Just wait one minute. Will you at least do that much?” Bram was fuming. They were barely shrouded by the dark shadows of the market. He hovered over her, blocking her view and her path.
Chloe stretched her neck and looked around him. “Bram, the humans, they’re fighting back.”
“I know,” he stated without even looking behind him.
Out on the street, she watched as a young girl came into view, followed by several adults with makeshift weapons. They fought off two scabs as the young girl ran into the arms of a woman in the group of humans. She’s safe. Chloe sighed to herself and relaxed a little. Then, the group of humans started to grow from five to more like twenty-five. At least ten of the men surrounded the two scabs. Instead of running the powerful creatures off, they pinned both down and stabbed them over and over and over again. Shit! Chloe thought.
Bram raised his hand in the air in front of Chloe’s face and quickly pulled the gla
mour from her like an invisible sheet unmasking a marble sculpture. “You still look like Famke, but human again; got it?”
Chloe touched her normally-tipped ears. The fae features of her glamour were gone. “Oh shit! I wasn’t thinking.”
“Mhmm. I know,” Bram mumbled. “An angry mob out for vengeance will ask too many questions of us, believe only what they want to believe, and cast swift judgement. Every possible scenario only leads to problems, or worse. I’ve seen this before.” He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt them, Chloe, but I will, if I have to.”
Chloe’s breath caught in her throat at his threat. She wondered how Bram could assume so much about a group of people he had never even met. Weren’t they just defending themselves? What had happened in his past that had made him so untrusting of humans? “The girl’s safe, and they can’t see us. Let’s just go back to the Spree,” Chloe pleaded. She didn’t want to have to choose a side if it came to it. How would she? If they found out Bram was fae, what would they do to him? Or worse yet, what would he do to them to keep his secrets?
The deadly sound of cracking bone stopped Chloe from imagining the worst. One of the scab’s chest plates had been punctured. She heard the familiar crunch of bone before the blow to his heart turned him to ash and cinders. The men all looked at each other in astonishment as the man wielding the efficient iron weapon struck the second scab in the chest with the same killing blow without a second’s hesitation. Just as with her own scab kills, the small burning cinders floated away on the wind. All that remained was a thin layer of dust coating the street.
“Son of a bitch,” Bram hissed. But instead of looking to the mob of humans, he unexpectedly looked towards the Spree.
The sound of wind rushing through the cracks of a rickety old window made Chloe turn and look at the Spree as well. The once-blue iridescent strands of delicate spells framing the archway into the Spree were now a solid mass of blinding white light. The sound of wind turned into the buzzing one might hear from a bug zapper annihilating its prey as the white light flashed even brighter before disappearing completely. The only thing that remained was the now-solid wall of the Seattle fish market.
