'Twas the Darkest Night

by Sophie Avett

  “Merry met, Mrs. Potts,” he tried for polite, lifting his mug. “And the Witches-Who-Knit.”

  Her pinched mouth softened. “So, how do you like your story?”

  “It needs editing.”

  “Oh, hush.” She whacked him on the back of the head, ignoring his hiss of annoyance and plucked a slim box out of her pocket. It was wrapped in vibrant red and green paper. “I’ve got something for you.”

  Marshall’s eyes flitted between the ravens perched on her shoulders as he accepted the gift. “Is this where I’m swallowed by hell fire?”

  Granny-raven sighed, “No. She won’t have it. Seems she likes you.”

  Mrs. Potts offered no reaction. Blinking at him with a deadpan expression. And yet, he couldn’t keep his ears from burning like a child. He lowered his eyes to the package and whispered, “Christmas is over, old woman.”

  The Persian-raven squeaked. “My goodness, vampire—do you want to die?”

  He chuckled under his breath and feathered his thumb over the shiny wrapping paper. Not anymore.

  “I’ve got something else for you,” Mrs. Potts drew his attention to the gold ring resting in the palm of her polka-dotted gloves.

  It was his sigil ring. He sandwiched the present under his arm and plucked the circlet. “I thought Gwyneth…”

  She pocketed her hands and shrugged, “I stole it.”

  He met her gaze. She peered at him without remorse or resignation and his mouth curved with realization. “You’re…shameless.”

  Mrs. Potts’ black eyes glittered with mirth, but otherwise, she said nothing. She turned on her heel and started into the blizzard. “Open the box, vampire,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re gonna need it where you’re going.”

  Going? Where am I going? He blinked and she was…gone. Marshall straightened with an uncomfortable notion, “Listen here, witch! I don’t want another story!”

  The blizzard answered with a howl, whipping the lapels of his jacket into a frenzy, but Mrs. Potts and her ravens were gone. He opened the box to find a black scarf, soft and velvet. Warm. He plucked it out of the box, examining it like it was a tool from the Devil, sighed and then, draped it around his neck. Muttering under his breath, Marshall opened the red door to Bits and Pieces.

  The store might as well have been on fire because it too was in fucking chaos. Sebastian and Brendon were busy carting out boxes of crates from the very back. From the looks of it, they were arguing. Again. Ingrid and Gillian were perched up on ladders, shaking cobwebs loose from the old living-tapestries. The women looked over their shoulders. Ingrid nodded a curt greeting, Gillian waved wildly. She fell off of her ladder all together, and the huldra cursed and caught the witch by the scruff of her pink-cake dress.

  A brownie seedling catapulted himself from one bin of “used” wands to another.

  John. Marshall’s mouth flattened as he scanned for the rest of them. Sally was perched on the shelf, wiggling a cracker at a supposedly nonchalant Fenris. She inched a little closer, feet swinging. “Here, kitty, kitty…”

  “There’s no dignity in this,” the cat sighed and rolled over, mouth gaping open.

  Marshall tucked a smirk behind his mug and motioned to the rest of the store with his package, “Where’s Elsa?”

  Fenris and Sally shrugged. He opened his mouth to query Ingrid and Gillian, but John barreled in-between his legs waving his arms in the air, screaming like a yeti, “You can’t catch me!”

  Marshall’s grip etched a hairline fracture into the stem of his mug. Stay calm—it’s just a child. Finished counting back from one-hundred, he took another step and collided into another seedling. Timothy. The weakest of the trio sat on the ground, peering up at the vampire with fear, “Sorry,” he squeaked.

  Marshall tilted his head at the boy’s stubby legs, wondering why he couldn’t shake the impression that Timothy was doing much, much better. Sinking to his haunches, the vampire hauled the little boy onto his feet, “Get up, fool.”

  “Tim!” John called. “Let’s get, Sally!”

  The boy pulled at his sister’s pigtails and she went off like a tea kettle, “John! I’ll have your fingers in jars!”

  Timothy flushed and worried his bottom lip. “We…we’re just playing.”

  “So, I see…” Marshall pulled the scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around the seedling’s neck. “Take it outside.”

  Timothy pawed at the soft knitted fabric. “I…” he breathed. “Many thanks, sir vampire.” He beamed up at the vampire and Marshall stood, pocketing his hand like that would rid him of the child’s cooties.

  “Yes, well,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good day.”

  The children took off through the front door and Marshall took another step only to collide with a solid stump. Cursing in his tea, he lifted his mug and peered down at yet another brownie.

  Harold the Brownie stumbled back a few steps and craned his neck back in order to peer up at the vampire, “Miriam!” he hollered, bushy brown beard shaking. “I found”—he frowned—“a vampire!”

  “Label it!” she hollered from the depths of a barrel of skulls.

  “Tyrant.” He muttered under his breath and pulled a sticky note from the pad holstered on his belt.

  “Harold!” called his wife.

  The brownie scribbled, “What?”

  “Come quick!”

  He paused, sizing the vampire up and continued his notes, “What is it, woman?”

  “I don’t know! But it’s alive!”

  Smacking the wad of paper on the vampire’s knee, he stormed off and dove into a barrel. Marshall blinked, eyes flitting back and forth between the sticky note and the barrel. He barely managed a step before Harold exclaimed, “Well, hold it still now! I can’t label it if it’s eating us!”

  “Elsa.” The barrel shook and Marshall’s eyes widened, “Elsa!”

  “WHAT?”

  He turned to find the witch standing at his back with a broom and a frown. Clad in one of her hideous monkish tunics, her disheveled ponytail glittered with dust and filth. Her cheeks were smudged, her sweaty brow knitted with annoyance and she’d never looked more beautiful. He searched for something to say and found himself stricken. Enthralled. Completely and utterly overwhelmed.

  Elsa noted something over his shoulder and her frown deepened into a scowl. Using her broom as a hammer, she wheeled the vampire out of the way and barked at Brendon, “Where do you think you’re going with that?”

  The bear froze, holding a large crate of trash. “The dumpster?”

  “Are you crazy?” she snapped. “Those are priceless.”

  Marshall and Brendon exchanged similar looks of confusion as she snatched the crate from the bear and shoved her broom at him instead. “The ceilings.”

  He nodded, resting his hands and chin on the hilt. “You know, Mistress always says dynamite comes in small packages.”

  Her mouth twitched and she waved him off, “The ceilings.”

  Smile? For Brendon? Was she crazy? Shadows pooled from beneath the register counter and hissed at the bear’s feet. Sebastian offered the vampire a knowing little smirk as he hooked his finger into the bear’s belt loop and dragged him off to do the witch’s bidding.

  Elsa went about sorting through the crate, putting things in piles of “keep, keep, and keep.” She blew a stray frizzy curl out of her eyes. “Can I help you, Sir Ansley?”

  He leaned a hip against the counter, and curled the strand behind her ear. “I see you’ve hired some new help.”

  She nodded and tossed a wad of spider-web over her shoulder, “Had to be done.” He watched her work for a while, his mind flipping back and forth between what he knew was practical and responsible, and what he desperately wanted.

  “Elsa,” he set his mug on the counter and produced the sigil ring from his pocket. He offered the gold circlet to her, but couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Wear it, please.”

  She studied the piece of jewelry like
she’d never seen it before. “Why?” She lifted her stubborn little chin. “Tell me, vampire, why should I wear your ring?”

  He tried for honesty, but his tongue wouldn’t unravel, like he just couldn’t muster up the courage to ask her that just yet. So instead, he grinned and motioned first to her, “You’re beautiful.” And then, to the bear, “And I’m murderous.”

  Elsa flashed her bunny rabbit teeth in a laugh, and he bit his bottom lip, offering the ring. She accepted and seated it on her middle finger.

  “No,” he said quietly. “Wear it properly.”

  She blinked up at him with impossibly wide eyes, “Impossible.”

  He caught her wrist and seated the ring on the proper finger. “Is that an answer, witch?”

  “No, it isn’t.” She laced her fingers with his and lifted herself on tip-toes to peck his cheek. “There. An answer,” she whispered, easing back to solid ground.

  Marshall pressed his forehead against hers. “What will life be like now?”

  “I don’t suspect it will change very much,” she shrugged, “Though, I promise, you will never work late again.”

  Working late? He bit his bottom lip. “I doubt that will ever be a problem.”

  “No, it won’t,” Pulling away, she bent to snatch up another crate and set it on her counter. “If you want a woman beneath you, above you, or wrapped around you—it will be me.”

  “Can I touch you?” he asked quietly.

  “When I say so, yes.”

  He caught her wrist, “How about now?”

  Elsa dropped the skull, “Now?”

  “Yes, witch.” His throat worked as desire painted his veins. “Right fucking now.”

  Elsa’s gaze darted past him to the brownies rooting around from bin to bin. She fisted her amulet and murmured an incantation. Red light filtered from between her fingers as shade gathered at her back. Marshall straightened and observed her command of his inborn power with awe. One harsh wave of her hand and the obsidian ink split open a break in reality, revealing a doorway into a swirling gray and white abyss. Fascinating.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “What you were expecting?”

  “No.” He pocketed his hands and offered her a little boyish chuckle, “Still a mystery.”

  The shadows waved, billowing around her in rags. She offered him her hand, “Come hither, vampire.”

  Never mind where. Marshall dropped his gaze to the chimera seated on her ring finger, “Now?”

  She nodded, “Right fucking now.”

  The vampire laughed and hauled her into the splice. Reality braided shut after them and darkness was allowed to descend anew.

  THE END

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  Sophie Avett is currently building a beta-reader “focus group.” The purpose of these select readers is to help her test the magic via reading pre-release review copies and giving feedback. Don’t need to be a professional. Don’t need to be a grammar stickler, blah, blah, blah… You just have to like reading Sophie’s craptastic literature and have lots of opinions. If you’re interested, please contact the author via the contact form on her official website: http://www.sophieavett.weebly.com

  New Gotham’s Grimoire: A Glossary for Readers

  Asgard: (Norse) One of the nine worlds that make up Yggdrasil and home of the Esir (magic users) branch of the Norse gods.

  Beast witch: (New Gotham): Is a classification of witch, with abilities very similar to the Ancient Greek enchantress, Circe. Able to conquer and absorb the spirits of animals, she can then summon the familiars at will to fight and serve her. Often, beast witches are also very skilled in conjuration and illusion schools of magic and double as poison herbalists. Beast witches are often categorized with the “Coven” faction.

  Brownie: (Celtic) Are household fey sprites who help with housework, perform chores and generally make themselves responsible for the house or barn they choose to live in. They appear as short men—about three feet tall—and are usually described as wearing raggedy, brown clothing and a blue cap. It is very important never to fuss or offer to pay for a brownie’s contribution to the household. Gifts are acceptable and they prefer: best milk, a bowl of cream, good bannock and cake. In New Gotham, brownies are especially pleased when gifted with fine fabrics, which they never wear, but horde like treasure. They are also capable of minor inborn magical ability.

  Cambion: (Judaism) The offspring of a succubus/incubus, using the reproductive biological material from a human male AND a human female. (See incubus for more information.) An incubus is not bound by the law of gender. It first transforms into a succubus and mates with a human male (acquires a sperm sample), transforms into an incubus and mates with a human female and impregnates her with the sperm.

  Therefore, a cambion is really a mixture of three creatures: the incubus, the female creature (usually human), and the sperm donor. The cambion will adopt characteristics of all three ingredients. In New Gotham, which characteristics the cambion will inherit from its parents is entirely dependent on random genetic mutation. Biology for the damned, indeed.

  Centaur: (Greek) Another name for this creature is hippocentaur. It is a hooved mythological creature with the head, arms, and torso of a human and the body and legs of a horse.

  Chimera: (Greek) The sibling to the darling Lernaean Hydra and Cerberus, the chimera is a fire-breathing beast composed of three separate animals. What animals make up a chimera changes and differs slightly according to the historian, but for the most part these three always show up: a lion’s body, a goat’s head rising from its shoulder, and a tail that ends in a snake’s head.

  Djin/n: (Arabic) The primary species of demon in the Islamic tradition. They are shape-shifting spirits and have been known to appear as cats, dogs and snakes. Human form is often that of a beautiful woman with vertical slits in her eyes. According to Koranic tradition, Djinn are born from fire and have it flowing through their veins instead of blood. In New Gotham, all of the above is true, though genders have a much wider variation, as well as magical abilities to control a wide range of elements. (Like sand.) Also, djinn do not usually materialize with feet in their human form—they appear as human torsos arising out of an elegant cloud of smoke.

  Dobby/Dobie: (Celtic) A type of brownie. They’re always willing to help as household stewards and guild apprentices, but they suffer from being extremely gullible. Often, they are the reincarnation of a spirit attached to a particular family, either by relation or some other form of bond.

  Domina: (Latin) Ancient Roman equivalent of a “lord” or “master,” and is used when addressing someone in a very humbling and servile manner. An exception is the use of the term between lovers who call each other “dominus” and/or “domina” as a part of BDSM fetish play. In New Gotham, Domina is the troll equivalent of “lady” or “mistress,” and the correct way for a drengr to formally address his patron.

  Dragon: (Universal) Is a universal legendary mythical creature with serpentine or reptilian traits. They are often imbued with prophetic ability and powerful magical abilities that are more often than not linked to the natural elements. In New Gotham, “dragon” is a species with many different breeds, i.e. lungs, lindwurms, heraldic, etc. and physical and magical characteristics such as wings and supernatural abilities vary from breed to breed.

  Drengr: (Old Norse.) Ancient Nordic term for “man.” In New Gotham, it is the term used by troldfolk women to designate their chosen mate, who often doubles as their personal valet, knight and high advisor (in political situations). It is the troll equivalent to a term of respect and acknowledgement of the special place a “drengr” occupies in the familial hierarchy.

  Fand: (Celtic) Is a fairy queen who was once married to the sea god Manan
nan. She is also associated with an early Irish sea goddess, pleasure, youth and young women. She has the ability to take the form of a sea-bird and is considered the most beautiful of all Irish Goddesses. In New Gotham, a fand is a type of fey. They are descended from the goddess, Fand, and have similar powers, but to a lesser extent.

  Fenris/ir (Norse): Is son of the god Loki and is often depicted as a monstrous wolf. It is prophesized in Ragnarok that he will slay the Norse god Odin.

  Frigg/Frigga: (Norse) A goddess of motherhood and marriage with the power of prophecy, Frigga is said to be the wife of Odin and is queen of Asgard. Note that Frigga and Freya are often confused because there is substantial evidence that they might, perhaps, maybe be the same goddess. You know, historians... (sigh) In New Gotham, Frigga and Freya are two separate goddess even though their areas of expertise often overlap.

  Golem: (Judaism) Golem is an artificial human being created from the mud in the traditions of Judaism. The word “golem” literally means 'body without soul.' They are often used as vessels for wizards. In New Gotham, there are several different types of golems and their appearances and powers vary according to which element they were born from.

  Grimoire: (Judaism) Is a textbook for magic, similar to a book of shadows. However, the format has less of a journal feel and more like an instructional manual for the creation of specific charms, magical spells, etc. Some of them also function as bestiaries. For instance, Judaism’s King Solomon supposedly wrote several grimoires concerning the invocation of the demons under his control, Solomon’s 72 Devils.

  Haggraven: (New Gotham) A breed of the troldfolk, a haggraven is the offspring of a true troll and a hag witch. The creature is often hideous in appearance with a beaked nose, spiked talons for fingers and a bulbous body. The marriage of heritage often gives haggraven an immense amount of seemingly endless power, but they suffer the same weaknesses of having no innate glamour of their own and feet as a weak point. However, they are able to withstand loud sounds and music with less irritation than their troll parent, but may suffer from Greed, the emotive-curse.