A Witchmas Carol

by Amanda M. Lee

  I cut through the trees and pointed myself toward the bluff. The area was quiet, laden with power, and I often missed visiting it during the winter months. I figured I might as well take advantage of the odd dream weather and visit our favorite picnic spot.

  I thought I’d be alone. Instead I stumbled across Saffron. She sat focused on a book, her back to one of the large boulders cut into the landscape.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The girl, a genuine mixture of Landon and me, lifted her eyes in surprise. “I thought I was the only one out here.”

  “I was just taking a walk,” I offered lamely, my eyes drifting to her book as I moved closer. “Lord of the Rings.”

  “Yeah, I just started it.” Saffron didn’t seem worried about the fact that I was a stranger and she was alone. “I really like it.”

  “That was one of my favorites when I was younger. I desperately wanted to go on an adventure with Aragorn.”

  “Why? You had an even better adventure here.”

  I pursed my lips as I regarded her. She seemed amused by my discomfort, something she probably got from Aunt Tillie. “Yes. It seems like you have nothing but adventures here. You have aliens, popes, kings … it’s almost unbelievable, huh?”

  “That’s because it’s not real.” Saffron was so matter of fact I couldn’t help but jolt.

  “You know this isn’t real?”

  “I know that this couldn’t possibly be real,” Saffron replied, closing the book and resting it on the ground. “If you really look – which no one here is doing for obvious reasons – you can detect a shimmer in places.” She pointed to a spot at the top of the nearest tree. “See. That’s not real.”

  I followed her finger, biting back a sigh. Leave it to Aunt Tillie to create a sentient delusion. That was the last thing I wanted. “If you know this isn’t real, what do you remember of your existence before?”

  “There was nothing before.”

  “But … .”

  “There was nothing before and there won’t be anything after,” Saffron said. “This isn’t real. I don’t exist.”

  “You must be the remaining bit of that old psychology textbook Aunt Tillie found at the library’s used book sale last year,” I mused. “She was obsessed with that thing for a bit. You’re far too self-aware compared to the other delusions hanging around.”

  “I’m sure it takes a lot of effort to control all of this,” Saffron said. “It’s a pretty piece of land. That’s why I chose it.”

  “It is a pretty piece of land,” I agreed. “This is my favorite spot in the summer.”

  “So the spot is real?”

  “It’s the only thing she didn’t change. Everything else is slightly tweaked. Not this place, though.”

  “I’m glad it’s real.” Saffron’s smile reminded me of Landon. “Your time here runs short, doesn’t it?”

  “Apparently not short enough,” I replied. “I’m ready to go home. Aunt Tillie says it’s not time. She says she has two things left to show me.”

  “What do you think they are?” The girl looked to be fifteen, but sounded wise beyond her years.

  “I don’t know. I’m sure they’ll be goofy and designed to make me scream.”

  “She does like things like that.” Saffron’s bemused expression – so much like her father in this reality – caused my heart to ache.

  “She did a good job on you,” I said after a beat. I knew I was talking to someone who didn’t exist, yet I couldn’t stop myself. “You look like Landon. You have his mannerisms.”

  “Thankfully I don’t have his eating habits.”

  I grinned despite myself. “You’re a good girl. You’re the nicest of all the girls I’ve met.”

  “Those aren’t girls,” Saffron pointed out. “They’re caricatures. They don’t have souls … or feelings … or even manners. Aunt Tillie created them to irritate everyone … and they’re good at their jobs.”

  “If that’s true, why did she create you?”

  “You’d have to ask her.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  Saffron shrugged. “Perhaps she made me as a touchstone of sorts. Perhaps she knew you’d need one thing to look at that didn’t make you want to weep for the future.”

  I didn’t bother to hide my smirk. “That was pretty good.”

  “I do my best.”

  We lapsed into amiable silence, the sound broken only when I heard footsteps on the path. I shifted and found Landon climbing the small hill as he approached.

  “There you are. I was getting worried.”

  I swallowed hard. “Sorry. I just … wanted to look around.”

  “Okay.” Landon’s expression was hard to read as he moved to my side. He ran his hand over my shoulder, as if trying to offer me solace even though he wasn’t sure I needed it. “I see you found a friend.”

  “This is Saffron.”

  “We met on the path between the guesthouse and inn,” Landon said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Saffron returned his smile. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m glad to see you managed to pull yourself away from the turkey leg.”

  “That makes both of us.” Landon let out a groan as he sat next to me. “I think I ate too much.”

  “Really?” I asked dryly. “What was your first clue?”

  “The fact that my pants don’t seem to want to stay buttoned.”

  I chuckled at his lame joke. “I didn’t mean to wander away. I only wanted a little bit of time to absorb … well … everything.”

  “I talked to Marcus,” Landon volunteered. “He’s just as amiable as always. He says that he still loves Thistle and wishes her benevolence and light. He claims she’s the reason they’re not together.”

  “I talked to Aunt Tillie. She said we have two things to see before we can leave. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell me what those two things are.”

  Landon’s hand was gentle as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

  “You’re not like the Bay and Landon here,” Saffron noted, taking me by surprise when she spoke. I’d almost forgotten she was present. She was much quieter than her teenage counterparts. “The Bay and Landon here have forgotten why they fell in love. I’m not even sure they remember falling in love.

  “Right now, they feel as if they’re anchored to one another, but not by anything good,” she continued. “You, on the other hand, exude love. Even when you could be melting down and taking things out on one another, you lean on one another instead. It’s … refreshing.”

  “Oh, wow, you’re self-aware.” Landon was impressed. “Why are you different from the others?”

  “Why are you different from the others?” Saffron challenged.

  “Because this whole show is for our benefit,” Landon answered. “Aunt Tillie wants to teach us a lesson. She’s doing a good job of it. I’m exhausted and want to go home.”

  “Isn’t this your home?”

  Landon shrugged. “In some ways. Bay is my home, so whenever I’m with her I’m home. This place is different from where we live, though. Aside from being ridiculous, it’s also fairly difficult to see those we love struggling.”

  “Is your world free of struggle?”

  “Of course not. It’s just … different.”

  “And yet you’re strong enough to survive that struggle both here and there,” Saffron noted, brushing off the seat of her dress as she stood. “I think you’re tired, but you’re strong. That will benefit you when you take on your last task.”

  “Oh, well, that’s frightening,” Landon muttered, exchanging a quick look with me. “When will that be? We still have to figure out what our second-to-last task is.”

  “No, you don’t.” Saffron’s smile was back in place. “It was me.”

  “You?” Landon knit his eyebrows. “What do we need from you?”

  “The knowledge that you will always struggle,” she replied. “If you stick together, though
, the struggle won’t be nearly as bad as you think.”

  “I’m pretty sure we already knew that.”

  “I’m pretty sure you did, too. But Aunt Tillie likes to make doubly sure her lessons are learned.” Saffron tilted her head to the side as she stared back at the party. “You should go now. Your last test is about to arrive.”

  I followed her gaze, but we were far enough from the party that I couldn’t detect a shift in the landscape. “I don’t suppose you could tell us what to expect, could you?” I asked hopefully.

  Saffron shook her head. “No, but you’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because not everything here is destined to never come true.”

  I glanced between Saffron and the party, and when I turned my attention back to the girl she was gone. “Where did she go?”

  Landon shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of liked her. She’s so much different from the others.”

  “Yeah.” I chewed my bottom lip. “I’m kind of sad she’s not real.”

  “Who knows,” Landon said, grabbing my hand as we headed for the path back to the inn. “Maybe she will be real someday.”

  That was a nice thought, however improbable. “Maybe. We’re definitely not naming her Saffron, though.”

  “Oh, that goes without saying. She’s also never wearing a dress like that in real life.”

  It’s so cute that you guys are out here making snowmen. You’re in the Christmas spirit this year. It’s so great. I … wait. Why does that snowman have a carrot where his pants should be? You’re in a lot of trouble, Thistle!

  – Twila encouraging the girls playing outside

  Eighteen

  “She was kind of worth the trip,” Landon commented as we walked. “I liked her.”

  “She was definitely better than the others.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of our kids screaming ‘I hope you get chlamydia’ at one another when they’re teenagers,” Landon said dryly. “It makes me feel all warm and full of paternal pride.”

  I slid him a sidelong look. We’d talked about kids – in a very abstract way – several times the past few months. He wasn’t running scared at the prospect. It was also something better left for the future. The real future, that is.

  “It won’t be like this. You know that, right?”

  “I do know that,” Landon confirmed. “For one thing, we’ll get to meet them when they’re young and sweet, so we’ll have no choice but to love them when they turn into monsters.”

  “When puberty hits?”

  “Oh, if I have daughters they’re never hitting puberty. That will be a house rule.”

  “What if there are only daughters?”

  “That doesn’t bother me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Still … .” Landon pulled up short as he came face to face with a boy – he looked to be about ten or so – who had Thistle’s eyes and haircut. “You never know. A boy might be in there somewhere.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Of course, odds were that it would be daughters. As long as he was happy, though, I saw no reason to fret.

  I focused on the boy, grinning when I read his shirt. “‘The only true way to happiness is the witch way,’ huh?”

  The boy nodded without hesitation. “My Aunt Tillie taught me that.”

  “And you are?”

  “Fennel.”

  I heaved out a sigh. “I’m sorry you got stuck with that name.”

  “It’s okay. Everyone calls me Fen. It’s not so bad.”

  “It sounds bad to me.”

  “That’s because you’re a kvetch.” The boy’s grin was impish, and he didn’t as much as jolt when the sound of magical bombs dropping in the trees assailed our ears. “It sounds like Cinnamon and Sage are gearing up for another war.”

  “They’ve been gearing up for that war for hours,” Landon supplied. “They’re real pains in the … butt.”

  “That’s because they didn’t spend Christmases with Aunt Tillie,” Fennel said knowingly.

  I pressed my finger to my eye to stop it from twitching. “Really? Is that why?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Aunt Tillie. She’s the wisest witch in the land.” Fennel was solemn, and the way he puffed out his chest told me he had pride in his great-great-aunt, despite the fact that she had saddled him with such a terrible name.

  “I’m surprised you’re not wearing a shirt that says that,” Landon noted.

  “Red Pepper Flake is wearing it today,” Fennel said. “He’s trying to get on her good side because she’s been down on him since he pelted her with water balloons last week. He has five of the top ten spots on her list.”

  “Oh, well, it’s probably wise that he tries to whittle those down,” I said. “Did you just get here?”

  Fennel bobbed his head. “We were late. Mom couldn’t find her shoes, keys or marbles.”

  Landon snickered, earning a dirty look from me. “What? It’s funny. Aunt Tillie took out all of her frustration with Thistle on her, and in an ingenious way.”

  “Yes, but Thistle isn’t around to see it,” I pointed out. “She’s stuck in Black X-Mas somewhere and we’ll have to explain all of this to her. If you thought it was war before … .”

  “Hey, it wouldn’t be Christmas without a fight between Thistle and Aunt Tillie. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Oddly enough, I was, too. To get to that point, though, we had to work our way through this. I shifted my attention back to Fennel. “Is your mother here?”

  “Yeah, she’s hiding by the punch bowl.” Fennel vaguely nodded to the far side of the lawn. “She’s doing her best to avoid the king. They used to be married. She doesn’t like to think about it.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t.” Landon ruffled the boy’s hair. “I think things are about to get rough, so you might want to take cover.”

  “What fun would that be?” Fennel challenged. “Trouble is my middle name.”

  “Oh, well … .”

  “No, really. It’s really my middle name.” Fennel turned earnest. “Mom was tired of picking out names and went with that one when she was drugged in the hospital.”

  “And that sounds just like her.” Landon gave the boy a small wave before continuing our trek. He kept a firm grip on my hand, as if he sensed things were about to go sideways. I was glad for it. I could almost sense the wind shifting as we walked.

  “What do you think the big finale will be?” I asked, licking my lips as I scanned the various tables. “There are a lot more people here than when we headed to the bluff.”

  “There are,” Landon agreed. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be big. Perhaps the aliens will return and start another war.”

  “She claims they only dropped off suns and then went on their merry way.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “I don’t believe any of this, although it did give me a thought,” I replied. “In this timeline, I figure Aunt Tillie is really supposed to be one-hundred years old – maybe even older.”

  “She looks better than the rest of us, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “That’s not what I’m getting at,” I said. “When we do have kids of our own they won’t get to spend as much time with her. She’s in her eighties now. She could very well be in her nineties before any members of the next generation show up.”

  “And it makes you a little sad to think that they won’t get to know her,” Landon mused, rubbing his thumb over my hand. “I don’t know what to tell you, Bay. She’s strong, but even she can’t live forever.”

  “I wouldn’t say that to her,” Grandma interjected, popping up in front of us. “She won’t like it at all. She wants to live forever.”

  “I almost forgot you were here.” That was true, and I felt a bit guilty for it. “Where have you been?”

  “Looking around. It’s not often I get to see my children, grandchil
dren and great-grandchildren all in the same place. I wanted to take advantage and spend some time with them.”

  “But they’re not real,” I pointed out. “This isn’t how things will be.”

  “No, probably not,” Grandma conceded. “Still, Tillie created this world, and the representations she drew have basis in the people she knows.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t help being dubious. “Clove doesn’t sit and stare at herself in mirrors for hours on end. And Thistle would never cheat on Marcus.”

  “I don’t think that’s what Tillie is trying to reflect here,” Grandma argued. “It’s not Clove looking in a mirror that’s important. It’s that she’s distracted and isolates herself from everyone else.”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned. “Aunt Tillie has been complaining that she doesn’t see Clove much now that she lives at the Dandridge.”

  “Yes, and that bothers Tillie,” Grandma said. “Your great-aunt is a bit of a curmudgeon.”

  “I noticed.”

  “She also has a good heart, and her greatest trait is that she’s loyal above all else.”

  “Did she force you to say that?” I asked dryly.

  Grandma shook her head. “You’re missing the point, Bay. I’m really here.”

  I stilled. “But … how?”

  “It’s Christmas. Everyone deserves a gift on Christmas. Calvin and I were Tillie’s gifts. We were supposed to spend her dreams with her. Unfortunately – or maybe fortunately, given what’s happened – Tillie had plans for the evening and she roped us in to helping.”

  “So you came to invade Aunt Tillie’s dreams and got caught in the mayhem?”

  “That’s rather simplistic, but yes.” Grandma smiled. “This … world … isn’t meant to be a true reflection of what will come. It’s supposed to make you think and avoid the obvious stumbles your life will offer.”

  “Like me eating all of the time,” Landon muttered, putting his hand to his abdomen. “She’s always said I was a glutton.”

  “And me being bossy and shrill,” I added. “She always thought I tended to take over.”