by Lady Ellen
Laurel looked at Persy with a proud but slightly sad look. “Persephane, my dear, this is the conversation both your mother and I have been alluding to since you found out you were about to Time-Linx and that you were a First Order Witch.
The truth is, you are not only a First Order Witch, but ‘the High White Witch’, destined to be Melanthios’ nemesis. You will stop her, if anyone can. We, around you can aid you in anyway possible, but the Quest is yours and at some point you and Melanthios will go head to head to claim this planet’s destiny.”
A pall dropped over the kitchen. No one uttered a sound. They couldn’t help but stare at Persy, waiting for her reaction. Benson broke the silence.
“No worries, Perse!” he declared. “We’ll be with you the whole time.”
“Sticking to you like peanut butter to the roof of your mouth,” chimed in Thaddeus.
“If I see her, I’ll sneeze on her and turn her into a burnt offering,” P-C said, doing his best to puff out his dragon-self to take on more of a hero look.
Laurel seemed a little more relaxed, as she assembled the elements of her protection spells. She sat at the table putting them in groups of five, seven and nine, all protective numbers. There were crystals and flowers of red, black and blue, beads of coral, amber, silver and iron. The herbs Persy could recognize were rue, rosemary, dried elderberries, lavender and hyssop. And last, but most importantly, for the outside of the house, Laurel put elder branches which had been soaked and twisted into pentagrams and triangles to be put over the windows and doorways. She had protection charms all around the house, but these spells were now needed to completely and safely seal the manor from invasion of any of the Black Arts.
But Laurel didn’t get a chance to prepare those spells...did she?
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As Melanthios had hoped, the moon was perfect, full and the sky cloudless. She collected Tash from the dungeons where she liked to hang out.
Melanthios wrapped the Hand of Glory and a two inch round block candle in a soft, silken wrap. She carried it like a newborn baby in the crook of her arm.
“Ok, Tash, ready?” Melanthios asked.
“But of course, dahlink..let’s do zis.” Tash purred.
“Grab my lower leg.”
Tash wound one of her front, hairy legs around Melanthios’ right ankle. They were traveling to Laurel’s manor by Tunnelling--a method of moving at past the speed of light from one geographical location to another. It could only be done within the same time-space zone, but was particularly effective when speed and anonymity were critical. Very few Magicals could do it, but Melanthios learned before she was nineteen.
Melanthios snapped the fingers of her free left hand and called ‘Eogorum’. They popped in front of Laurel’s door in a heartbeat.
Melanthios knew Laurel would have the manor surrounded by protective charms and possibly spells...so came prepared.
“Mother, dear, how predictable, thou art,” she muttered in mock old English.
There on the windowsills were red, black and blue candles in their small groups. Sprinkled around the doorway and also on the sills were black peppercorns and salt, most likely sea salt. Melanthios could sense light protection energy, but nothing overwhelming.
“Looks like I timed my arrival well, Mother. This is going to be a gift.”
“Ewwww, my hemolymph...zee is bubblink! Zis is zo exziting,” Tash exhaled the words with deep and heavy breaths.
Melanthios extracted a small leather pouch from a side pocket in her cloak. She spread apart the drawstrings and started to sprinkle the contents in front of the door. A light dusty cloud formed and seeped into the space under the door.
Persy heard it first, a gritty substance, like sand being poured on the porch, right in front of the door. Thaddeus followed her eyes to the front door in time to see a cloud of dust eek its way into the hallway and disperse into the kitchen.
Before Laurel could say anything, having turned to see what caught the kids’ attention, her eyes closed and she slumped forward onto the table, fast asleep. The same happened to Persy and Thaddeus. P-C, who was already curled up by the fire simply drifted off and Benson’s wings dropped flat to his side as he too, was overcome with sleep.
Melanthios waited for a minute or so, to make sure the graveyard dirt completed its job, then extracted her wand, tapped the door and calmly proclaimed “Effracto”. The door to the manor swung open and she and Tash entered.
Her eyes danced around the hallway and rooms she could see, eliciting fleeting memories of the house she grew up in. They came to a standstill when she saw the scene in the kitchen.
Melanthios knew the sleep induced by the dirt was not very deep. That was the job of the Hand of Glory. She and Tash slipped into the kitchen. Melanthios stood at her Mother’s side, glancing down at her face. Laurel was still a lovely woman, Melanthios thought, a face relatively unlined, considering her age. Was that a pang of remorse Melanthios felt in her mid-section? Nah,...I no longer have feelings for this person.
Tash, meanwhile ‘clomped, clomped, clomped, shuffled’ up to P-C and was gently poking him with a hairy leg. “Zis dragon...ee ez zo, zo, pudgy... ‘ow does ‘ee fly?”
“Not well. Come on, Tash, let’s get this done before they start to wake from this sleep. I need them in a very, very DEEP slumber.”
Melanthios carefully unwrapped the Hand of Glory and placed it at the far end of the kitchen table. She laid the block candle on the palm. The Hand was already charmed not to affect her or Tash. Melanthios then lit the candle and the tips of each of the five fingers. One finger must be lit for each person one wanted to affect. How handy that there were five sleepers here and five fingers, (she grinned a little at her own pun). As the six points of flame enlarged, a greenish smoke formed and settled like a well-trained cloud over the heads of the already sleeping victims. Very shortly, their sleeping sounds became slower and deeper, indicating to Melanthios that the work was done.
She looked down at her niece, whose head had fallen directly onto her folded arms in a straight forehead contact.
“Tash. Come and hold Persephane’s hair back.”
Tash moseyed over in her traditional gait. “Eez my pleasure.” Tash steadied herself on her four back legs and used the front two to gently part Persy’s long, thick mane down the back of her head, held the two sections, one to each side, to expose her fine, young neck.
Melanthios bent forward, pinched the chain and hauled it up until the Cimaruta was heard clanking on the table. She then laid the chain down Persy’s back, moved her right hand around to Persy’s forehead, gently lifted her head so Melanthios’ left hand could grasp the Cimaruta and work it around to the back of its supporting chain. She lowered Persy’s head back to her forearms. With her now-free right hand, Melanthios brought out her wand, lightly touched the link which attached the amulet to its chain and uttered the command “Effracto”, releasing the Cimaruta into her hand.
Melanthios smiled and felt happy...no… this was more, much more. Her chest tingled inside...success...yes...that was the sensation...success with a sugar coating of power.
“Hmmmm, I like this feeling. This experience, THIS is simply a touch of how I’ll live all my days as the All Powerful One.”
Melanthios extinguished the flames on the Hand of Glory and lovingly re-wrapped it in its silk cover. She slipped the Cimaruta down the front of her dress where it could take its place beside her malignant heart.
Natasha and Melanthios skulked out of the manor, leaving Melanthios’ family and their friends to sleep it off.
The night, Melanthios’ new mother, greeted her and Tash, enveloping them in safety, cloaking them in protection. “Eogorum!” And they vanished.
Benson’s Bit
Consciousness seemed to be lost in some abyss, Persy had a devil of a battle to mentally emerge from this pit. She was the first to moan, and finally raise her head. But within seconds there was movement all around and Benson, no surprise, was the fir
st to speak.
“Oy, me poor bean,” he moaned. “Feels like it weighs two hundred pounds. Certainly NOT the best sleep I’ve ever had,” he said as he rubbed his head with a foreleg.
“Man, oh, man,” said Persy. “My brain feels like it’s been put through a blender. I can’t even see straight.”
“Ugh,” muttered Thaddeus as he pushed himself off the table top with both hands. “I hear that. What happened?”
Laurel stood up and staggered to get her Book of Shadows. She knew only too well what could have caused such an immediate and dark sleep.
Persy turned to watch her come back into the room with the Book. “Grandmother, do you think whatever conked us out was that dust I saw coming under the door? Graveyard dirt can do that.”
“Yes. That--but much more. I believe the dirt started it, but something exceedingly more malevolent put us into that sleep of the dead.”
“MELANTHIOS?” blurted P-C with a very worried look on his face.
“Melanthios...yes. She was here and used a Hand of Glory to knock us out. Very black magic, very Melanthios.”
That’s when it hit Persy. Her hands flew to her chest and neck. No Cimaruta.
Her heart pounded and her stomach did a complete 360.
“Nooooooooooo!” Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, as tears ebbed down her cheeks. “It was from Mom, and I was responsible to keep it out of Melanthios’ hands. Now she has the first of her Nine Objects and it’s all my fault.”
Laurel quickly put the Book down on the table and rushed to Persy’s side. She sat beside her and threw her arms around Persy gently stroking her head.
“No, child, it’s not your fault. No one could have fought the evil magic of the Hand of Glory. Not unless one was specially prepared and had the time to use very strong counter-magic. We had no idea and I wasn’t able to protect the manor properly. It’s not about you at all. Truth is, I should have had the manor ready for attack from the day you Linxed over knowing you were about the right age for Melanthios to start her campaign for the Objects.”
“The Hand of Glory is a formidable foe,” Laurel continued and proceeded to explain to them all how it was prepared and what it did.
Although Persy did feel somewhat better, she was still heavy hearted and felt more responsible than she probably was.
“Now what?” Persy asked Laurel. “Do you think it’s possible to get it back, Grandmother?”
“Abso-freak’-lutely, Persy,” said Thaddeus. “We can’t let this get us. The adventure continues.” He held his arm up in the air, brandishing an imaginary sword. “All it takes is a little swash and buckle,” swishing the ‘sword’ in the other direction.
“Oy, Perse...she may have won one battle...but she hasn’t won the war,” said Benson. “This is only round one. We’ll simply go and knick it back.”
“Ah, yeah,” stammered P-C. “Yeah, that’s the ticket. We’ll—um--go get it back,” he added somewhat softly.
Laurel remained thoughtful as each of them expressed their determination to help Persephane reclaim the Cimaruta.
She lifted her head to meet Persy’s gaze. “Persephane, I believe it’s the time for you to Linx back to your Mother and let her know what’s happened. Take Thaddeus with you, he can be a visiting cousin or something of the sort. I’m afraid you, P-C, are going to have to stay with me, as you’re a tad more difficult to explain away.
Angelica has an uncanny way of finding and reclaiming lost or hidden objects, it’s one of her more incredible talents. We certainly can’t just go willy-nilly into Bodesnoir looking for the Cimaruta without some sort of plan. We have to know where in Bodesnoir Melanthios is hiding it, and then we can devise a plan to recover it,” Laurel explained.
“Great!” cheered Thaddeus. “I LOVE the future. And I can meet Rix, Persy.”
Persy looked stunned. This was all happening so fast. Going home? She felt she’d been here for months and it was really only just over a week.
Benson dragged his weighty abdominal segments across the table. He struggled to half crawl up Persy’s forearm and looked up at her with very heavy compound eyes.
“Persy, ol’ bean,” he sighed. “I’m so ready for a breather back home; get back to my river. Munch down my familiar mozzies. The ones here are too stodgy; guess I’ve been away from jolly ol’ Bellarya for too long. Let’s go,” he said through a deep yawn.
Laurel rose and was busy at the kitchen counter, boiling water to brew a particular tea.
“Here,” she said, taking the steaming pot to the table along with four mugs and a thimble. “This is made with Red Clover to cleanse the after effects of the Hand of Glory from your systems and also Lemon Balm to help everyone calm down enough to sleep for the rest of the night. We’ll figure this all out in the morning.” She handed everyone their tea.
Within twenty minutes, they were in their beds or, in P-C’s and Benson’s case, their respective sleeping spots. P-C again rolled up in front of the kitchen fireplace and Benson in the corner of Persy’s room.
Persy’s room at the manor was a large, bright one, with a south facing bay window enveloping a wide cushioned ledge. Although she had an over-sized canopied bed with lush down pillows and quilts, she sat on the window seat. She turned the day’s events over and over in her mind as she stared up at the stars, as if they could provide her with her much-needed answers. She was exhausted, but she was so solution oriented, that she felt she wouldn’t sleep until she could come up with at least a skeleton of an idea of how to reclaim her Cimaruta.
From across the hallway, Thaddeus left his door partly open and Persy could hear his deep, rhythmic sleeping breaths. She smiled. Well, at least the tea worked on him.
With no plan magically appearing in her head, Persy admitted that sleep was needed. She knew she’d be useless if she didn’t get some rest and there was no one around to bounce ideas around with, anyway. So she slid off the window seat with a thump and eased into her soft bed and within seconds was deeply asleep.
Benson tended to rest when Persy did, no point being active at night when he hunted and courted by sight. Of course, he had no eyelids to close, so there was watchfulness to his rest, one of the reasons dragonflies made such good familiars. He half observed Persy when she sat in the window, sensing what must be reeling through her head. Poor kid he thought, surely in my almost four hundred years of magical experiences I could come up with a plan for her. A flash of thought - Benson knew what to do. He was a dragonfly with a mission.
He rested until the first rays of morning skulked into the left side of the bay window, then he quietly flitted out of the open window and was on his way.
Benson ramped up his flight until he was past the speed of light and no longer visible. His many visual pathways caught flickers of the meadow and the Forest of Depravation (thank goodness, no dumb puzzles). He landed softly on the stone at the window in Melanthios’ garret. He rested to catch his breath, and listened very carefully.
Beyond the rustle of obviously large pages, he heard a murmur and chuckle.
“Ah, let me see, object one, taken and hidden, and now on to the second,” Melanthios muttered. More flipping of pages as she looked for direction on item two.
Benson got his bearings--this was a north-facing window, the stones around it a good foot thick. So he was careful to keep on the right side, about half way along the window’s rocky frame, staying in the morning shadows and moving slowly. Any quick motion could catch her eye and give him away.
He crept further in, putting all his eyes on hyper-scope. Melanthios was deep in thought, running her right forefinger along a page, her back to the window. By craning his head forward he could….just...about...read...the...page...stretched…some...more... “Crack!”
Melanthios slammed the book closed. “Yes, makes perfect sense,” she exclaimed. “That would be the next item.”
Drat, thought Benson to himself. WHAT item? He leaned a tad further into the room, hoping to catch a glance at an
ything else which could give him a clue. His front legs slipped and he found himself balancing precariously along the edge of the stone.
He flapped his wings in a flurry to stop himself from falling off, Melanthios seemed not to notice, but something stirred deep in the shadows in a corner to the left of the window.
Two hooves slid slowly into the sunlight on the floor. Benson could hear the rasp of something heavy dragging, as whatever it was shifted its weight to stand. The rest of it broke the lines of shadow and came into full view.
What IS that thing? Benson stared, all of his multitudinous eyes bulging.
The creature stood like a lion, but its front paws were hooves. And the head. It possessed the beautiful face and raven hair of a Mediterranean goddess...not what one expected at all when you take in the rest of it. Its back paws were indeed, paws, but instead of the fur of a jumbo feline, its body was covered in serpentine scales, red, dappled with black. The line of its back lead the eye to its tail, lizard-like, six feet long and a about six inches in diameter. It ‘clomped-clomped, pad, padded’ over to Melanthios and looked up at her with glittering onyx eyes.
“Ah, my sweet Shape-Shifter,” purred Melanthios, “there you are. Well, I’ve unveiled my next magical object, I believe. How delighted I am, too.”
Shape-shifter? Hmmmmmm.
“And what might that be, missstressssss,” replied the beast in a sibilant manner. This zoological collage definitely had strong reptilian overtones.
“Can’t say too much just yet, my dear, I have much research to do to figure out where it is and plan my journey to obtain it. I feel I must not be clouded by others’ input. I’ll fill you in as need be, don’t worry. But let’s just say this, if this item doesn’t pan out, well, at least it we’ll be able to make stew for the multitudes!” whispered Melanthios, chuckling.
Darn and blast again thought Benson, he was sure she was about to spill the ol’ proverbial beans.
As the Shape-Shifter walked closer to Melanthios, she flickered her eyes quickly up to the window well, and back again. Benson’s little heart took a leap and he edged himself back into the shadows. The Shape-Shifter attempted to see where Melanthios was marking a particular page with her finger, but she pulled her finger from the book and walked to the doorway.
