The Witches of Merribay (The Seaforth Chronicles)

by B. J. Smash

  ***

  A cauldron boiled water on the stove in the kitchen of the tree house. The rooms were lit by a hundred candles, illuminating the area. Izadora hummed a tune as she sprinkled salt in the water. “Now a little thyme, a few sprigs of rosemary. Yes, that will go good with rabbit.” Turning, she wiped her hands on her apron and pulled down a frying pan from a hook on the wall.

  Izaill the rabbit had a rope tied around his neck, and he was tied to a chair leg. He squirmed and wriggled his nose, his ears laid back.

  “I wonder, is he conscious of what's going on?” I hoped the answer was no. Izaill might be the biggest jerk in the world, but this punishment was gross—and final.

  “Yes. He knows exactly what's going on,” She uttered with a giggle.

  We watched Izadora as she scurried through the kitchen, occasionally grabbing something out of a bottle that hung on the tree limbs of her living room. She continued to gleefully hum a melody, and occasionally she swayed as though attempting to dance.

  “This must be a joyous occasion for you,” I began, “but it's so final. You don't really want to stoop to his level, do you, Izadora?” I stared at a red candle as it dripped wax down upon more tiers of wax.

  “Hmmm? Did you say something, Ivy?” She continued to hum.

  Sometime later, we heard the four-wheeler rumbling nearby. The engine cut, and I assumed it was Great-Grandfather parking out by the circle path.

  Drumm ran to the balcony. Seconds later, he was talking to someone. “No, she's got him up here.”

  I walked out on to the balcony to see Great-Grandpa Edmund next to the four-wheeler. Behind him stood a familiar yet scary person.

  I gripped the railing. “Aggie?”

  “In the flesh,” she yelled up, not looking at me. The only light to see in the darkness of the night was the brilliance from the candles inside, radiating outside. I could tell she wore the white pristine dress.

  “Girl, get me Izadora. Tell her to bring Izaill to the porch you stand upon.”

  This was going to be interesting, I was certain. Walking back in toward the kitchen, I noticed the rabbit was no longer tied to the chair. I picked up speed just in time to see Izadora dangling him over the pot.

  “Izadora, stop,” I said.

  “I know. I know she's here. And I knew she'd come. But I wanted Izaill to see just how close he came to becoming stew.” She headed for the balcony. “I wanted to make him sweat.” She cackled. “And it worked. Grab the rolling pin; it's on the table.”

  Relieved, I picked up the rolling pin and tagged along out to the balcony.

  “Mother,” Izadora spoke.

  “Izzy. Nice to see you again,” Aggie said.

  Izadora cringed when Aggie called her “Izzy.” “Here he is. He's still whole.”

  “Hold him out over the railing,” Aggie commanded.

  Izadora reluctantly held him out, lowering him down as far as possible by the scruff of his neck.

  “Toss me the rolling pin, dear girl.”

  It felt warm in my hand. I held it out, giving it a bit of a toss.

  Her hand swept up, and somehow, the rolling pin slowed in midair and glided into her right hand. “Ahhh. Good to have you back, old friend,” she said to the rolling pin.

  Casting it upward, she pointed it at Izaill. With the shake of the wrist, a flash was sent forth. Whooshing out, it encircled Izaill. When Izadora released him, he floated in the air, doing loop-dee-loops. Then she snapped the rolling pin around fast, producing a whipping sound. Izaill, in human form, was standing on the ground.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Aggie asked.

  “Mother, she was going to put me into a stew,” he whined.

  “You, I hear, cast the mother-maiden-crone spell upon Izzy. That is the worst spell in existence. Well, no it's not…But just the same, that was a horrible thing to do. And she didn't just have to lie down and die every evening—you had to add your own twist to the end.” She scowled at him and then softened her expression. “I must admit it was quite a clever twist, but nonetheless brutal. More importantly, you suckered me into meeting you at the graveyard—you said you had a special surprise—and then cast me into the ground! Mind you, it was clever, but it became tedious lying there awake all of those years.”

  She cleared her throat. “I will not be around any longer to settle your disputes. You must learn to get along. You are how old? And you still fight like children. There will come a day that you, Monty, and your sisters will have to come together and fight as one. You will have a common enemy; I have seen it.” She cast a glance at Izadora, who wore no expression at all. “This will be my last sentencing, I hope.” She pointed the rolling pin at the ground before Izaill's feet. “I hereby sentence you to ten years inside a tree. You will be awake, but you will not be able to move…or talk.”

  “But, Mother—” Izaill yelled.

  Before another word could escape his mouth, a full-grown tree sprouted up from the ground where he stood, encasing him as it expanded up. Limbs shot out, sweeping by at a brisk speed. The leaves sprouted, forming to full growth.

  I couldn't take my eyes from the swiftly growing tree as it swallowed Izaill like a tasty snack.

  He disappeared with a scream. The ground shook and trembled as the tree reached its full height. Drumm and I jumped back as a final limb swept by us on the balcony.

  When it was done, dead silence filled the night. Not even a single breeze blew by.

  “There. That should hold him for a while.” She sighed, as though it were a job well done.

  Drumm and I looked at each other, horrified. My eyes were the size of full-grown sunflower heads. His mouth hung open, and he couldn't stop blinking his eyes.

  “Mother, why did you have to put him here…by my house?” Izadora grumbled.

  “I can free him if you like. He can go back to living in a cave.” She shrugged her shoulders as if it was of no consequence to her.

  “No, it's fine. Let him sit there a while.”

  “And now, I am off to spend a few days in the sun on a beach in Thailand. I am a tad pale, aren't I? And then on to Scotland to visit an old friend of mine. I may or may not be back.” She scrunched her mouth and tossed her head from side to side. “Eh, I probably won't be back.” She put the rolling pin in her pocket; somehow it vanished to the point where I couldn't even see a bump.

  Turning to GG Edmund, she said, “Monty,” putting her hands on either side of his face. “My sweet Monty. You were always such a good boy. Would you like to go to Thailand with me?”

  He grinned. “No, Ma, I think I need to stay here and help Ivy.” He looked up my way.

  She followed his gaze, as if noticing it was me for the first time. “Land sakes, I almost forgot. You have one wish coming your way, young girl.”

  I forced a smile and looked at Drumm. He had closed his mouth, and the constant blinking had stopped. He scratched his chin. “Good luck.”

  “Come down here, child, where I can take a good look at you,” Aggie said.

  I grabbed Drumm's arm. “You are coming with me. Don't make me go down there alone.”

  “What? Your great-grandfather is down there. You'll be fine,” he said.

  “Come on.” I pulled him alongside me.

  We made our way past Izadora, who looked bored. “Be careful,” she called after us. “Mother is a bipolar witch. She can be sweet and kind one second and cut your head off the next.”

  I gulped. I think Drumm did too.

  “What's that, Izzy?” Aggie yelled up.

  “Nothing, Mother.”

  Down the stairs we went, taking extra time to pat the dogs before we continued on toward Aggie. I think we were both a little freaked out by the old woman from the grave. She gave me the heebie-jeebies. And yet this woman was my great-great-grandmother. A chill ran down the length of my spine.

  I stood before her, and she hit just about five feet tall, if she was lucky. I would have to guess that she might be f
our foot ten. Her sweet, pleasant face beamed at us.

  “Come now, a hug for old Aggie.”

  I brought Drumm with me; he tried to sliver away, but I held on steadfastly.

  She held both arms out, encasing us into a group hug. I had to lean way down, and Drumm was so tall that he was almost on his knees by the time he was done.

  She patted our backs and kissed each of our cheeks. She didn't smell too bad for being in the ground for God knows how long; she smelled of lingering sandalwood.

  “Thank you for your help in alerting Monty of my whereabouts. He had no idea what Izaill had done to me. I think he thought I was a goner.” She laughed with mirth. “I knew who you were when I saw you for the first time. You resemble Monty when he was a boy. And although I could never see him while I was in the ground”—she winked with her white eye, reminding me that she had the gift of sight—“I could see you sometimes. I had no doubt you'd get him to come to me.”

  “But I had no idea he was Montague,” I said.

  “All the same, he only came because of you,” Aggie said.

  I looked up to Izadora and asked, “Did you know that he was my great-grandfather?”

  “I knew who you were, yes, and that he was your great-grandfather. But Ian kept his whereabouts a secret from me. All this time, he was staying at the Seaforth residence. The last time I'd seen him, he had stopped by to say he was going away for good, to Arizona. I only grew suspicious when you mentioned that you had a great-grandfather living with you. I could only hope that that was him, and that he would come forth. Otherwise I may have remained as an ice figure for quite some time, thanks to Magella,” Izadora said. She had a scowl on her face, as though she wished we'd all depart so she could be by herself.

  Aggie stamped her foot to get my attention. “Let's get back to the wish.” When she had everyone's attention, she continued. “I cannot bring anyone back from the grave, I cannot take anyone’s life, and I surely cannot grant you more than one wish, so don't ask. Let's see, I cannot—”

  “I know what I want. My sister, Zinnia. She resides with the Fae now. She thinks Magella will be after her,” I rambled.

  “Magella? She's my least favorite child. Anyway, Izadora can handle Magella for you, but I cannot bring your sister back. She has gone to the Fae willingly. I cannot break her will.” She looked at me expectantly. “So, your wish will be…?”

  “You cannot get her back? Are you sure?”

  “I cannot. But you can. Search for her over the white bridge in the forest, beyond the stream. If she wishes to speak with you, they will let her come. After all, without you they would never have been able to hold their ceremony. You see, the Fae can take whomever they wish. But in order to tie themselves to a single person, to turn them into a Fae being, they must have a witness from the family. You were the witness.”

  “My sister is not just a visitor there. She has—”

  “Become one of them. It was her own choice, too. She fell in love. Now, is there any other wish? I can't stand here all evening discussing the goings-on of the Fae. If you must know, ask her yourself.”

  “What about the mark—Magella's mark? On her inner arm.” I pointed to my wrist area.

  She closed her eyes briefly, as though she were focusing on Zinnia. “I see that the mark has already been lifted.”

  “How?”

  “I do not know yet.” She appeared to look somewhat uneasy about the question. “Now, tell me your wish.”

  How could Zinnia's mark have been removed? The Fae must have the power to remove such things. I thought for a moment about what my wish should be.

  “My father…he is spellbound. He was in fairyland and—” I said.

  “I cannot break the spell of a human returning from fairyland. You must go to the land of the light elves. Once there, you ask for a remedy. They can assist you.”

  I looked to Drumm for confirmation. He nodded his head as though he approved.

  “Well, what about my friend Ian? He is in a wheelchair and—”

  She interrupted. “This I can do. But…well, come closer.”

  I bent down, and she put her hand over my eyes, and instantly I saw a vision of Ian being able to walk again, only to have another accident a week later, taking away the use of his legs again.

  Aggie patted my arm, consoling me. “Sometimes it is not worth fighting fate. It will only bring more heartache.”

  “Well, what can I wish for then?”

  “A unicorn? A house by the sea, perhaps?”

  I thought about asking her to break the curse on Izadora. I knew what her answer would be: “Not until they all learn to get along.” Besides, I didn't think Izadora minded living in the tree house. She had become accustomed to it.

  “I know what to do. This whole mess started as a result of my father and grandfather lying to the family about a hunting trip—”

  “Well, no. They were on a hunting trip—just not the kind you thought,” GG Edmund said, defending them.

  He had a point.

  I recalled what GG Edmund had been trying to tell me at the battle zone. It was something about Aunt Cora's fiancé. How this had all began.

  “Before I make my wish, GG Edmund…or should I call you ‘Great-Grandpa Monty’?” I asked.

  “No, no. Certainly you must continue to call me Edmund. That is, after all, my middle name. I've always preferred it.” He stood close to his mother, and she beamed up at him with pride.

  “Tell me what you know about all of this. How did it all begin? Why did Izaill have my father taken by the Unseelie? Tell me what you know, from the beginning.”

  He slid his hands into his pocket and tapped his foot. “Where to begin? It all started with your aunt Cora. She lost her fiancé twelve years ago. It was the day before their wedding. Aunt Cora's dog, Peppers, chased a deer into the woods—and oh, how she loved that little dog. After he hadn't returned for over an hour, Aunt Cora sent her fiancé into the woods after him. Well, he never returned either.

  “For some time, Aunt Cora thought he had gotten cold feet and took a chance at a getaway, while he could. She later learned through a rune stone reading with Magella—yes, you heard me right, Magella—that he had been taken by the Fae.

  “Aunt Cora would never be the same after that. She has been in a deep depression for over a decade, moping about, reading romance novels, and drinking wine to fill a void that can't be filled. After all, she believed it was her fault; she sent him in after the dog.

  “I had gone away for a year before all of this had transpired, before Aunt Cora's fiancé had been taken. I had told Izadora that I was leaving, so that hadn't been a lie. I just never told her when I returned.

  “Anyhow, no one could reach me for help at first. Only Ian's father knew how to find me. Ian was in the process of taking over his father's affairs, and it took some time but he finally tracked me down. When I returned, the window of retrieving Aunt Cora's fiancé had closed. There is a window. If you can retrieve the person within seven days, they will come home unscathed. It was too late.

  “This spring, after watching your aunt Cora sulk for over a decade, your grandfather couldn't take it anymore. He thought he could do something about it: barter with the Fae. Well, you don't barter with the Fae unless they want to be bartered with. I tried to tell him that. And he was angry that I refused to help. And so, he called your father to assist him.

  “I had a bad feeling of what was to come. I warned them not to go, but they would not listen. Izaill spotted them first. He always has a way of messing things up. A greedy, deranged soul, he is. He commanded his group of Unseelie to capture your father. He had a bright idea that he could get the younger generation of Seaforths to bend to his will and take the forest from the McCallisters. He knew that I could get them to sign it over to him. And whoever has the papers for this land owns it. And believe me, the papers are strict law. They can never be destroyed. They were put together by a great wizard…but I digress from the point. That's anothe
r story altogether.

  “Getting back to the point, I knew he'd eventually be coming for you, too. He knew you were part light elf, that he could use you against us. That is why I came forth. I almost came out of hiding beforehand, but certain things had to play out. I knew Izadora would look after you. Ian kept me well informed. I was sorry to hear about Zinnia, but as it was stated before, she made her own choice.

  “But an important piece of information about Aunt Cora's fiancé is he was never taken by the Unseelie. He was taken by the Seelie, the good Fae. They reside in different areas of fairyland. It’s almost like a veil separates them. He would be harder to get back. But your father…” He rubbed his temples with his hands and continued. “I had a plan of my own to find your father, but when I found out you had been seeing Izadora, like I said, I let things play out. If anyone could get him back in one piece, I knew it had to be her. She has more gifts. I do not. I am more human than Fae.”

  “Enough of story time.” Aggie patted GG Edmund's shoulder and then focused on me. “Tell me your wish, as I intend to leave soon. My disappearing and reappearing skills are not up to par, for I have been underground too long. And so I must fly.” Aggie urged me to answer, tapping her left foot with impatience. “Plus, I still have something that needs doing.”

  I thought long and hard about what he'd just said. I felt sorry for him in a way. He had never wanted anything to do with his crazy siblings; he had tried to walk away. What a mess. And it all stemmed from my aunt Cora. That should be it then, the end to the story.

  “I'd like to have my aunt’s fiancé back,” I said.

  “Okay.” Aggie closed her eyes and breathed deeply, as though in meditation. We all watched, occasionally exchanging looks. Five minutes later, she said, “I've located him.” She stretched her back, rubbing the lower half. “But if I bring him back, he will not be the same. I will do it, as it is your choice. But he will definitely not be the same; he's much different than you think he is.”

  I hauled in a long breath, held it for a moment, and let it go. If I had her bring Aunt Cora's old fiancé back, and he was not the same, what good would that do my aunt? He had been taken by the Fae years ago. If my father had been there for a much shorter period of time, returning with a longing to go back, then what would my aunt's fiancé be like? I pictured him returning and becoming demented, pining to return to fairyland and breaking my aunt’s heart all over again. The better choice would be to leave him where he was.