《Reborn as a witch in another world (Isekai-slice of life)》


 1. A Second Chance

    ¡°What''s your name again?¡± the man behind the steering wheel asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it matters much now, does it?¡± I rested my forehead against the window and watched the buildings we were passing by.


    He adjusted the rearview mirror and stole a covert glance at me. ¡°I was just wondering how someone your age ends up in this mess.¡±


    I sighed and looked down at the handcuffs on my wrist. The metal was cold against my skin. ¡°Make a guess,¡± I said.


    We arrived at a red light. He slowed the car to a halt. ¡°Hmm¡­¡± his fingers drummed against the steering. I looked into the mirror and showed him my half-rotten yellow teeth to give him a hint.


    ¡°Heroin?¡± he said.


    ¡°Meth,¡± I said.


    He went quiet. In the flash of passing lights, I caught a glimpse of his greying sideburns and a glint of dandruff on the shoulder of his blue uniform. I wondered if my answer had made him awkward. It was surprising. Usually cops who are much younger than him are a lot more jaded to meth-head teens.


    Then the lights turned green, he fired the engine and hit the gas again. ¡°Are you fifteen?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Seventeen,¡± I said.


    ¡°I had a daughter your age.¡±


    I noticed the past tense and paused. I looked out the window again and caught a faint reflection of myself in the light and glass. My left eye was blackened and my right eye looked lifeless to myself. I was curious about the cop''s daughter. He probably wanted me to be curious. Or else he wouldn''t have worded it like that.


    I would''ve given in and asked him about it but I was feeling too hungry and my head throbbed. Even though I was being escorted in a police car to the juvie facility, I was eager to get there. At least, they''d give me something to eat. And I''d have a bed to sleep in. A real bed with a mattress and a blanket. Hadn''t seen that in a while.


    ¡°If you don''t mind, can I ask you a question?¡± he said.


    I shrugged. I felt too lazy to speak.


    ¡°If you got a chance to go back in time and stop yourself from doing meth for the first time, would you do it?¡±


    I pondered for a second before shaking my head. ¡°That''s not how it works, old man,¡± I said.


    ¡°I know you can''t literally go back in time, but¨C¡±


    ¡°No no,¡± I interrupted him, ¡°I''m talking about the ¡®stopping myself¡¯ part. I could''ve stopped myself when I was doing drugs in the first place. If I was a different person now than I was back then, maybe I would''ve made myself take a different route. But I know I''m still the same. Nothing has changed.¡±


    ¡°How can you say that?¡± the cop asked.


    I smirked. ¡°This is the third time I''m in this seat with handcuffs on, going to the same place we are going now. Deja vu doesn''t even begin to cover this feeling.¡±


    ¡°And what about when you get out? Will you be doing meth again?¡± he asked.


    I shrugged, looking down at my hands again, this time my eyes lingered on the dark marks on my skin, the paleness of my complexion. ¡°I won''t wait until I get out. There are ways to get a fix while you are inside.¡±


    The cop went quiet again, ¡°That''s not true,¡± he said.


    I scoffed. ¡°The surprise in your voice makes you sound like a rookie, old man.¡±


    ¡°Well, that''s cuz I''m just a volunteer,¡± he said.


    I nodded. That made a lot more sense now.


    ¡°You are just messing with me, aren''t you? There''s no way you can get a hold of meth inside the juvie.¡±


    I gave a sardonic grin in the mirror. ¡°Believe someone who has taken this ride three times, old man. It''s totally possible to get meth in juvie if you do the right things for the right people.¡±


    ¡°And how does that make you feel?¡± he said, the distaste in his voice a lot more obvious now.


    ¡°Alive,¡± I said. ¡°Or it feels like a more comfortable death, at least.¡±


    We arrived at another red light. He killed the engine again. ¡°Don''t you regret it? Don''t you regret any of it? It''s slowly killing you, are you completely okay with that?¡±


    I leaned against the window again. ¡°Of course not,¡± I said, ¡°But I''m not at a point where I can reverse any of it.¡±


    The car started moving when the lights turned green again.


    ¡°You''re wrong,¡± he said, ¡°you still have time to change this.¡±


    ¡°Beat it, old man. I''m done for. I''ll need a shiny new body to change any of this. The one I''m in right now is too reliant on bad things for sustenance.¡± I looked at him from the corner of my eye. ¡°Can you get me a new body?¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    He remained quiet for some time. Then he said, ¡°What about rehab?¡±


    I clicked my tongue. ¡°Been there done that, officer. Doesn''t work. I''ve relapsed twice after rehab.¡±


    There was a long moment of silence before the man said, ¡°If you keep thinking like that you''ll never get better. I''m asking again, if you were given a second chance, would you just turn it down?¡±


    ¡°I told you, old man. The only second chance worth taking for me is when I¡¯ll have a new body. How am I supposed to get myself a new¨C¡±


    Crash!


    I never got a chance to finish that sentence. The car window had blown up in my face when another car had run into ours at full speed. I heard the scream of bending metal and screeching tyres.


    There was a burst of pain before I went numb. I imagine that''s what being struck by lightning feels like. There''s a blast and then there''s nothing. Oblivion.


    With my last bit of strength, I dragged myself out of the broken door and tumbled onto the tarmac. I watched the world fading away as I struggled to keep my eyes open. My breath was filled with the smell of blood before even my breath turned to nothing. Then my heartbeat was fading along with my vision.


    Then came the darkness.


    ****


    ¡°Miss Elsa, open the door. We need to leave!¡±


    I groaned and shielded my face from the light. The knocking at the door grew more urgent, the voice more frantic. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. My head throbbed like it did after a heavy night at a rave. And a weird sensation was crawling up on my arms.


    I finally opened my eyes and looked at the room I was in. It wasn''t like any room I''d been in before. The walls were just panels of wood, covered in hand woven tapestries, mirrors and pages filled with barely legible notes. Something told me the writing was mine, even though I couldn''t remember picking up a quill the entire week.


    I paused. Why did I think of a quill instead of a pen?


    As I tried to think my head throbbed harder. I could feel memories swirling up there like half remembered dreams from a different world. All I could tell was I couldn''t make much sense of them.


    Then I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the many mirrors on the wall. My eyes were a bright blue, my hair a luscious brown and my skin looked a lot healthier than I remembered. I looked at my teeth, perfect, pearly whites studded in soft pink gums.


    I stopped breathing for a second. ¡°I am¡­pretty?¡±


    Next thing I knew, I was screaming at the top of my lungs.


    ¡°Miss Elsa!¡± the voice outside yelled and something slammed heavily into the door, blowing the entire thing off its hinges.


    A girl rushed inside. ¡°Are you okay, Miss Elsa?¡± she said, pushing her round rimmed glasses up on her freckled nose. She had green eyes and auburn hair pulled back in a tight bun. The sleeves of her plain white shirt were rolled up and a small black doll dangled by her hip, bouncing against the pleats of her long brown skirt.


    ¡°Um, I''m okay¡­I just¡­saw a rat,¡± I said in a hurried voice.


    The girl named Lilian cocked her head. I don''t know how I knew her name. Even though I had a feeling I was seeing her for the first time, I felt like I still knew her. ¡°You are never afraid of rats, Miss Elsa.¡± she said.


    ¡°I was today,¡± I said. ¡°It startled me, Lilian.¡±


    ¡°Why are you calling me Lilian? You mostly call me Lily.¡± She frowned.


    ¡°I''m not in my right mind right now,¡± I said, trying to give a casual shrug. My head was still spinning.


    ¡°You are hardly ever in your wrong mind, Miss Elsa.¡±


    ¡°I am today, Lilia¨CLily, I''m not feeling too well.¡± I waved my hands, trying to make myself look dismissive. I really was a bundle of nerves, actually.


    ¡°Is it because of the Inquisition?¡± she said.


    ¡°Inquisition?¡± I frowned. Then I quickly recovered. ¡°Yes, the inquisition! Right, they are coming here, aren''t they? Right, we need to prepare. Right, I¡¯ll get right to it!¡± I rushed over to my desk, pretending to clean up the mess of papers on the desk.


    ¡°Miss Elsa, all your bags are over there.¡± Lily pointed at the two suitcases sitting atop a chair in the corner. A broom stood leaning by the wall behind it.


    I felt like an idiot. I was sure Lily thought the same.


    ¡°Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?¡± she said, cocking her head again.


    Feeling too embarrassed at my clumsiness, I quickly herded her out of the room and hauled the broken door off the floor and put it back into the frame. It was less of a door now and more of a loose curtain that could collapse at any given moment. But I needed whatever privacy I could get right now.


    ¡°I''ll be with you, Lily,¡± I said. ¡°I just need a moment.¡±


    The girl outside was quiet for a moment and then she said, ¡°So, are you coming out now?¡±


    I groaned. ¡°I need several moments, Lily. I said I''ll be with you!¡±


    ¡°Okay, but do make haste, Miss Elsa. We need to¨C¡±


    ¡°Get going, yeah, yeah I get it.¡± I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°I''m going to go and check on Madam Smokewell,¡± she said.


    There was a sound of footsteps moving away from my room and then there was silence.


    I stepped towards the wall and leaned against it. I got a weird feeling as I moved around. It was a foreign feeling of otherness that¡¯s similar to wearing someone else''s clothes.


    I looked down at myself. I was lithe and a foot taller than I remembered being. My arms were slender and my legs were slim and I could feel a strength I had never felt before. I didn''t feel like I could knock down a tree with a single kick. But I certainly felt stronger than I used to when my limbs were slender, pale and covered in marks. I also didn''t sweat excessively nor did I feel the need to keep picking at my own skin.


    But the most pleasant sensation of all was the feeling of content. There wasn''t a feeling of emptiness constantly gnawing at me from the inside. I didn¡¯t feel any compulsion to consume something that made my head lighter and turned my body into smoke.


    I simply felt¡­


    ¡°Alive,¡± I said the word aloud and it sounded like magic.


    ****


    My name was Elsa Grimly and I was a witch. The information seemed to surface as the fog in my head cleared up. Then I remembered what had happened last night. I had been in a car. A police car, on my way to the juvie. I was talking to the guy who was driving.


    I couldn''t remember much of our conversation. The only detail that remained distinct in my memory was the thing he said about a second chance. The question he had asked me.


    That brought another question to my mind. ¡°How did I even get here? And in this body?¡± I pondered aloud. I couldn''t think of any answer that science could answer.


    But another answer reared its head in my mind. The liberation ritual.


    It seemed like a part of my memory or more like it was a part of the real Elsa''s memories.


    I looked down at my hands. Numerous flecks of red caked my palm. It was dried blood but it was peculiar since I didn''t have any wounds on my skin. When I washed off the coagulated blood, I saw a marking on my palm--a five headed star with an eye at the center.


    The word ¡°liberation ritual¡± came to my mind again but I couldn''t connect any dots. It was still just a word that I knew but it meant nothing. What I did know was that it probably had something to do with how I got here.


    I filed the thoughts away for the moment and decided to step outside. Lilian and Miss Smokewell were probably waiting for me. I donned my long pointed cap and hurried to gather my bags when I heard something.


    Lilian was screaming.

 2. Asmods Nook

    I shoved the broken door aside and rushed out into the hallway. My feet thumped against the carpeted floor while Lily''s screams echoed across the wooden walls of the house.


    I found her in the room adjacent to the kitchen. Her face was pale, eyes wide and her hand covered her mouth. In the dead silence of the room I could almost hear her racing heart. My heavy breathing from the running sounded like a loud gust of wind.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± I asked. She didn''t answer. I followed Lily''s line of sight.


    An old woman was slumped in a chair by the desk on the right. Her head hung to the side, her eyes were closed and her mouth was half-open. She wore a deep purple dress and a grey cardigan that looked immaculate. And a pristine ivory tobacco pipe lay on her lap.


    But, neither her sense of fashion nor her ivory pipe seemed to matter when we looked at the large slit on her frail wrist and the puddle of blood that had formed on the ground. This was Madam Alana Smokewell. And she was very much dead.


    I had memories of witnessing some messed up things in my previous life, but I barely had any reaction to it. I had ways of numbing myself to such things. But now that I was Elsa, I noticed that everything I saw and heard and felt had an amplified feel to it. So when I saw a bleeding corpse, I had to hold back a scream myself.


    It took a minute or two for my racing heart to calm down. I poked Lily out of her catatonia. She blinked and looked at me and then back at the old lady. Her face contorted with grief and sadness as tears welled up in her eyes.


    I looked at her awkwardly and wondered if I should say something to her. I just gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder and moved towards the dead woman. I know I should''ve given Lily some better reassurance. But I couldn''t come up with anything good enough.


    I held two fingers under Madam Smokewell''s nostrils. She wasn''t breathing. Yep, she really was dead.


    I heard Lily sniffle behind me. ¡°Why did you have to do that?¡± she said.


    ¡°It''s okay, Lily. There''s not much we can do about it now,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°No, not that,¡± she said, sounding a little frustrated. ¡°You just checked for her breathing to make sure if she was dead. Why did you have to do that? Can''t you see her halo has turned grey?¡±


    Right, I thought as I looked down at the woman and saw the pale halo that hovered over her head. Old Elsa''s memories told me that the halo was over everyone''s head¨Cit was green when you were alive and it turned to grey when you died.


    Apparently, witches could read people¡¯s halos to figure out other things about them. I bit the inside of my cheek and wondered how many more of these slip-ups I was going to make. At this rate, it wasn''t going to take long for Lilian to figure out that I wasn''t the Elsa she knew.


    There was a moment of awkward silence as I stood by Smokewell''s corpse, too embarrassed to face Lily. Fortunately, my eyes happened on a sheet of paper on the desk. ¡°Hey, this looks like a letter,¡± I said, breathing an inward sigh of relief for finding something to change the topic.


    Dear Elsa and Lilian,


    If you are reading this, then it means you have probably discovered my corpse by now. I don''t have much else to say other than the fact that I''m tired.


    And I''m too old to keep running from the blasted Inquisition. (Which reminds me, I¡¯m already missing being able to fly the broom). But I wouldn''t waste your time too much with the ramblings of an old woman.


    So, I''ll keep this brief. I''ve put a hex on this house. It will activate when someone tries to force their entry, setting the intruder and the house aflame.


    It is important that my corpse remains inside the house for the hex to work. So leave me where you find me and escape before it''s too late.


    Also, as soon as you exit the village, I want you to visit the Asmod''s Nook in the neighboring city. I left an important package with him that you need to pick up.


    It''s very important. Do not forget it.


    With that said, it''s time for me to slash my wrist now. You two should get going. Also, take the letter with you. Also take my opium pipe. It will make for a good memento.


    Good luck on your travels.


    Yours truly,


    Alana Smokewell.


    By the time I finished reading the letter aloud, Lilian''s freckled face was red and tears had left wet trails on her cheeks. I could tell she was doing her best to not just completely break down and start bawling her eyes out.


    I sighed and pulled out my handkerchief from my vest and handed it to her. She nodded in thanks and dried her eyes. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    There was more awkward silence. I finally decided to open my mouth and say something. ¡°Lily, I¨C¡±


    ¡°We need to get going,¡± she cut me off. She spoke in a tone that people used when they were trying to appear stronger than they felt. ¡°The Inquisition will be here any moment now.¡± She stepped up to Madam Smokewell and retrieved the ivory pipe that was on her lap. Then without another word, she left the room to go and get her bags.


    I was about to follow her when I noticed something else about the Smokewell lady. There was a mark on her hand. It was similar to the five headed star on my palm. But instead of an eye at the center, hers had a chain.


    ****


    Fortunately, we left before the Inquisition could get to our house. Both of us had two suitcases each and our brooms were wrapped up in sheets and slung behind our backs. We also weren¡¯t wearing our pointy hats since it was too much of a dead giveaway. Instead we put on cotton bonnets to shield our faces from the sun and walked with our heads down.


    This time I avoided asking a question about why we weren''t using brooms to just fly off. There was probably a good reason to walk on the ground that I was already supposed to know since I was Lily''s senior. So I just kept quiet and kept walking. I had a reputation to uphold after all.


    ¡°Miss Elsa, are you alright?¡± Lily asked.


    ¡°I am okay, I guess.¡± I shrugged. After a short pause I asked, ¡°How are you feeling¡­after seeing Madam Smokewell like that?¡±


    Lily didn''t speak for a long time. And when she did her face was taut, as if holding back what she really felt. ¡°It''s the worst thing that has happened this year,¡± she said.


    ¡°I understand,¡± I said quietly.


    Lily looked at me, her eyes glinting. ¡°You mean you agree with me?¡±


    The way she said it sounded quite eager. I was unsure what to make of that so I just nodded and said, ¡°Of course. Why wouldn''t I? Madam Smokewell was our mentor,¡± I said, straining to retrieve anything I could from old Elsa''s memories. ¡°We''ve been together for the past five years and she has taught us so much. I looked up to her and admired her wisdom. It''s really heartbreaking what happened.¡±


    Lily''s eyes were wide behind her glasses. I thought I saw a deep sense of adoration in them. ¡°You sound so passionate, Miss Elsa,¡± she said.


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is that surprising?¡±


    ¡°In this case, yes.¡± Lily nodded. ¡°You and Madam Smokewell kept falling out so frequently. I rarely heard you speak so highly of her. Also you are usually so stoic and determined. So it''s a bit surprising to see you¡­like this.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­I uh¡­it''s not¡­um¡­¡± I had said something out of character and I didn''t have anything to say in response. Great.


    I was still fumbling to say something when Lily put a hand on my arm. ¡°It''s okay, Miss Elsa,¡± she said. ¡°I''m glad you spoke your mind like you felt it. With Madam gone, its just you and I on our own. It''s only going to help us to be honest with each other.¡±


    I held back a frown. I wondered how she would react if she found out that the one who had said all those things wasn''t the real Elsa?


    ****


    We arrived at the neighboring city by the evening. It was a place named Orowen where the roads were made of red bricks. Gas lamps illuminated our way and steam operated carriages rode the streets.


    Asmod''s Nook of Greeting Cards was a shady armpit of a building right next to a tall clock tower. Two trash cans sat on either side of the Nook''s main entrance. Old Elsa¡¯s memories told me they weren¡¯t trash cans but constructs that made everything look normal. I had to walk inside to understand what it really meant.


    At first glance, it didn''t look like anything out of the ordinary. A counter on the right with a mechanical cash register on top. A line of shelves against the wall to the left. More than a dozen greeting card designs that were on display in the cases. A few handmade miniatures sat on a shelf opposite to the entrance.


    As I looked around something fizzled in my vision. I focused on it a bit and saw what was under the normal facade. The cards on the shelves weren''t greeting cards at all. They were just sheets of white paper with symbols painted in red. Even though I could see them I couldn''t exactly read them. But what struck me was how every symbol invoked a specific emotion in me. I guessed every symbol corresponded to the occasion it would be given on.


    I picked up a card with a symbol that gave a pleasant feeling and made me want to smile. This could''ve been a birthday or a wedding card.


    ¡°I''m so sorry for what happened,¡± a voice said.


    I almost jumped at the sudden sound.


    A short and stocky man stood by the shelf full of miniatures. He was completely bald and dressed in a black waistcoat, white shirt and grey trousers. A small pouch was attached to his hip that held a few brushes and his stubby fingers were stained with red ink. He shook his head with a solemn look of sadness. It was a mystery whether he had been there since we entered or had he just waddled out from behind the counter?


    ¡°I''m so sorry,¡± he said again.


    ¡°It''s okay, Mr. Asmod,¡± Lily said and then she did a double take. ¡°Wait, are you talking about Madam Smokewell?¡±


    ¡°Who else would I be talking about?¡± He frowned.


    ¡°How did you know she passed away?¡± Lily asked.


    ¡°She told me she was going to do it. That was about two days ago when she came to drop the package here.¡± Asmod gave us an inquisitive glance. ¡°You are here for the package, right?¡±


    Lily and I both nodded.


    ¡°Follow me.¡± Asmod opened a door behind him that hadn''t been there before. I shook away the surprise and went in after Lily.


    Asmod led us into a dimly lit workshop. I saw more white cards with red symbols. These were hanging by many strings from the room. Lily and I felt an uneven swirl of emotions as we passed them by.


    From a closet in the corner, Asmod pulled out a small cage. Inside the cage was a black cat.


    Lily looked as confused as me. ¡°That is the package that Madam Smokewell wanted us to pick up so urgently?¡± I said.


    ¡°Yes and she is quite hungry,¡± Asmod said and unlocked the cage.


    As soon as the door of the cage swung open, the feline dashed right at me, claws out, teeth bared and her eyes were flashing red.

 3. Cat Food

    Remember when I said that as Elsa, the way I reacted to everything had gotten more intense? Yeah, I wasn''t kidding.


    When the black cat lunged at me, hissing and ready to claw, I lifted my leg and swept it in a lethal arch. My boot connected with the side of its torso, raising it off the ground and throwing it into the wall on the right.


    It went down with a loud mewling sound. Asmod''s eyes went wide. Lilian gasped loudly.


    ¡°Miss Elsa, what was that for?!¡± she snapped at me.


    ¡°Self defense,¡± I said, planting my foot back on the ground and standing straight again.


    Lilian rushed forward, lifted the cat into her arms and stroked her sore torso soothingly.


    ¡°It''s just a cat, Grimly,¡± Asmod said, ¡°She wasn''t going to hurt you or anything.¡±


    ¡°Weren''t you paying attention? When it came at me I saw blood in that thing''s eye,¡± I said.


    ¡°She''s just a poor, gentle creature,¡± Lily said, walking towards me with the cat in her arms. ¡°Asmod said she was hungry. She probably wanted you to comfort her. Just look at that face.¡± She held the cat in front of me, stretching out her arms.


    The red eyes glared at me fiercely, and the cat was baring her teeth again. Hiss!


    I pursed my lips. ¡°Yes. Gentle and helpless indeed.¡±


    Lily gave me a sour look. ¡°Madam Smokewell wanted us to pick up this poor creature as soon as we left our village. She probably cared about her a lot and was worried that the poor thing would be orphaned once she killed herself. She wants us to take care of her, Miss Elsa. This is part of Madam Smokewell''s legacy.¡±


    I grimaced. ¡°I think you are giving her a lot more backstory than she deserves.¡±


    ¡°What''s a backstory?¡± Asmod asked.


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Nevermind.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Lily said sternly. ¡°You should apologize.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I said. ¡°To whom?¡±


    ¡°To Garnet.¡± Lily held up the cat again.


    I scoffed. ¡°Garnet? Really, she has a name now?¡±


    ¡°Grimly, you know Garnet doesn''t deserve so much hate,¡± Asmod said, ¡°Especially since the common folk already think of her kind as ill fortune.¡±


    ¡°Well, in this case, I side with common folk.¡± I crossed my arms.


    ¡°The common folk side with the Inquisition that wants to burn us. Would you still side with them?¡± Lily glared at me.


    ¡°Okay, calm down. You are blowing this out of proportion,¡± I said.


    ¡°Then why don''t you be the better person and just apologize?¡± Asmod said.


    ¡°Even if you don''t apologize, at least show that you mean no harm to her.¡± Lily brought the cat closer to me.


    I frowned. ¡°What do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°Rub her back,¡± Lily said.


    I cringed, quite visibly. I don''t remember myself ever being too keen on animals in my previous life. But when the hair on my arms stood on end, I could tell that old Elsa might''ve shared my sentiments too.


    I looked at Lily, then at Asmod. They both looked back at me, their faces obdurate. After a second, I rolled my eyes and raised my hand. I reluctantly reached for the cat''s torso.


    Before my fingers even touched her fur, her paw went up in the air and came down on the back of my hand in a nasty swipe.


    I cried out in pain. ¡°You piece of¨C¡±


    ¡°See, was it so difficult?¡± Lily said.


    I gawked at her. ¡°The damn thing scratched me!¡± I held up my hand with the three thin red lines, glowing against my skin.


    ¡°Well, you kicked her first. She is going to be scared of you, of course. But at least you held yourself back this time,¡± Asmod said.


    Lily nodded. ¡°Yes, at least she knows that you mean no harm anymore.¡±


    I groaned and decided to shut up and let the topic slowly die. It had already gone for longer than I liked.


    ¡°You said she was hungry, right?¡± Lily looked at Asmod. ¡°Why don''t we feed her something?¡±


    The short, bald man nodded. ¡°Have you brought the letter Madam Smokewell left with you?¡±


    I nodded and pulled out the letter from my vest. He took the piece of paper and pulled out the brush that was in the pouch on his hip. He made a few strokes with the red ink on the back of the letter, bold and elegant as calligraphy.


    Then the symbol he had painted began to glow and then it disappeared. In its place more writing appeared on the previously blank surface of the page.


    ¡°When Smokewell came to drop by the package, she wanted me to enchant this piece of paper for her,¡± Asmod said, holding up the paper so we could see the back of the letter.


    I could tell it was written in Smokewell''s pretty cursive writing.


    Sith Bread recipe for the cat.


    Ingredients:


    1 piece of Ghost Sage tree root


    2 cups of water from the Moon pond


    3 eggs from a one eyed rooster


    1 cup of milk from a three legged goat


    300 grams of refined flour


    Crushed bones of a young vulture for seasoning


    ¡­


    The ingredients were enough to give me a pause. I looked at Lily and felt reassured to see that she found this wierd too.


    ¡°I don''t think bread is good for a cat''s health,¡± she said, tapping her chin with a finger.


    My jaw went slack. ¡°That''s the thing that worries you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mostly it¡¯s advised to not feed bread to a cat. Something like meat or milk would be good.¡± Lily nodded.


    ¡°But the recipe was left by Madam Smokewell,¡± Asmod said. ¡°She would''ve given this a better thought, don''t you think?¡±


    ¡°Am I the only one who thinks that this bread seems less like bread and more like an offering to a demon?¡± I said.


    ¡°No, Miss Elsa. Demons only accept apples as payment and offerings,¡± Lily said, ¡°Did you forget that time when you and Madam Smokewell helped catch the demon burglar who had stolen all the apples from the demon realm?¡±


    I swear, I was about to yank my hair out. ¡°You know what? Forget it. Let''s just make the damn bread and be done with it.¡±


    ¡°We''ll have to get these ingredients first,¡± Asmod said, squinting at the page.


    ¡°Where are we supposed to get the three legged goat, one eyed rooster and vulture bone dust?¡± I said.


    ¡°I know a place where to get those and the refined flour,¡± Asmod said. ¡°I¡¯ll place an order. I¡¯m more worried about the procedure of making the bread itself. It needs to be ready before midnight.¡±


    I frowned again. This seemed even less like cat food now but I kept quiet this time. I''d already used more than enough energy on arguing about cat food.


    ¡°We''ll get the tree root and the water then.¡± Lily shrugged. ¡°It''s only eight o''clock.¡±


    The cat that was still in her arms nuzzled her chin, purring softly, as if happy at the mention of food.


    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± I said. ¡°So where do we get those other ingredients now?¡±


    ¡°Lily and I stepped out into the streets to get the moon pond water and Ghost Sage root. Asmod was going to buy all the weird animal products and use the flour he had in his own pantry. He gave us the address to the people who could sell us the root and water. "But I won''t be able to pay for this too," he said.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I gave him a gracious nod and said, "You''re already spending more than we would''ve expected. We won''t trouble you more."


    "No, its not that I can''t buy it for you." He hesitated before saying, "It''s just that the folks that sell those thing ask for something more than money."


    That had me intrigued. "Like what?"


    "Souls."


    They were the Malcolm family.  Asmod told us they were exiles from somewhere and they''d brought an impossible amount of wealth along with them. That wealth had only grown bigger when they invested in businesses here. And they mainly invested in people like Asmod--those who were capable of using some magic. But their real business was doing favors to those in need. The kind of favors that the government couldn''t do, especially the things the government wouldn''t do.


    Asmod drove us over to their mansion in his clunky little steam carriage and told us to wait while he talked to the guards at the big wrought iron gates at the front. Lily and I watched him from the backseat window. His chat with the guard went on for about five more minutes before they let us in.


    "You have quite the reach don''t you?" I said as his carriage rolled through the front entrance onto the gravel pathway ahead.


    "I''ve traded with them before," he said.


    "Don''t tell me you''ve already given up your soul?"


    He snorted. "God no. I''m not stupid. One other thing that the Malcolms trade with are favors. You go and ask them for something. If you don''t want to part with your soul you can say that you owe them a job. Then they''ll call you up when they need. You can''t refuse them then."


    "Sounds like a trap." Lily narrowed her eyes. "What if they ask you to give up your soul then?"


    "You see, those are the terms of their contract," Asmod said. "They can''t make you give up your souls unless you agree to give it up yourself. If you agree to do a job for them, a job is all they''ll ask you to do."


    "So, you are saying we should tell them that we''ll do a job for them?" Lily asked.


    "I mean, you can always part with your soul too. It''s up to you." He hit the brakes on the carriage as we arrived at the massive porch at the front.


    "I think we''ll keep our souls for now. Right, Lily?" I nudged her.


    The girl nodded in a heartbeat.


    Asmod shrugged. "I mean, that deal has its benefits too. But as I said, it''s your soul."


    The tall front door of the mansion opened. Two muscular women walked down the porch steps and opened the carriage doors for us. They led us up to the door and were about to pat us down to see if we were hiding any weapons.


    Before they could put their hands on us I pulled Asmod and Lilian aside. ¡°I just want to make sure we are all on the same page,¡± I whispered to them. ¡°We are here to get ingredients for cat food. Frickin¡¯ cat food?!¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lily and Asmod said in unison. Their faces were completely serious. For a second I was terrified.


    ¡°Guys,¡± I said gravely, ¡°are we seriously ready to get involved with some super mobster family just for some cat food?!¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± It was the same unified response, same serious looks.


    I groaned and leaned back. ¡°Let''s just get this over with then.¡± I walked up to the woman who was waiting to whisk us.


    The living room we entered was big enough to park two limousines. They''d made us take off our shoes, so I could feel just how soft the shag carpet was. A tall marble fountain was at the centre of the room. A circular couch was arranged around it. They asked us to sit down and wait for the twins, Anisa and Roderick Malcolm.


    When the two arrived, I couldn''t help myself from gaping at them. Both of them had shiny jet black hair, smooth brown skin and identical grey eyes with flecks of gold in them. And both of them were floating in the air.


    At first I was stumped. Then my vision fizzled again and I saw their white wings. And their halos weren''t green but golden. I remembered Asmod telling us on the way that the twins were exiles. I wondered if they were some kind of fallen angels.


    I was certainly curious but not stupid enough to ask them outright. ¡°Josie told us that Asmod was here,¡± Anisa said with a gentle smile. ¡°So we didn''t bother to get properly dressed.¡± Then she giggled. ¡°Nor walk on the ground.¡±


    I frowned. Anisa was wearing a flowing black dress of the finest silk I''d ever seen. Roderick was in a satin shirt and tuxedo trousers. This didn''t qualify as ¡®properly dressed¡¯ in their lexicon? I was certainly a lot more stumped now.


    ¡°So Asmod,¡± Roderick said as he landed on the carpet in front of the short man. ¡°What brings you here today?¡±


    Anisa offered Asmod her hand. He touched the ring on her finger with his forehead.


    ¡°I have friends with me who seek your help. I hope my lord and lady don''t mind?¡± Asmod asked.


    The twins gave another gentle smile. Asmod introduced the both of us and told the twins about our reason for visiting.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Anisa said, appraising Lily and I with inquisitive eyes, ¡°Ghost Sage and the water from the moon pond. What do you need those for?¡± Even though her voice was gentle, the question still held authority.


    ¡°We have to prepare food for our cat. Those are one of the ingredients,¡± I said before I could stop myself. I regretted it as soon as I heard how stupid it sounded.


    Roderick gave a chuckle that sounded like rain on a summer morning. ¡°Quite the cat it must be and quite the food you are making,¡± he said. ¡°But, you''re in luck since we actually own a farm full of Ghost Sage trees and we have five moon ponds in our name.¡±


    ¡°We''ll be happy to share but there''s going to be a price.¡± Anisa said.


    Lily nodded. ¡°Mr. Asmod told us. We are ready to pay back by doing a job for you.¡±


    Roderick smiled. ¡°Wonderful.¡± He clapped his hands twice and two rather ancient looking scrolls appeared out of thin air. Our contracts. The writing on them was written in bold silver letters.


    ¡°Do make sure you read everything before signing,¡± Anisa said with a small smile.


    ¡°Do we sign it in blood?¡± I said as Lily and I reached out to pull the contract closer to read it better. It was only a half-joke, considering the situation I was in.


    The twins laughed at my question. ¡°You are a charming one, Miss Elsa,¡± Roderick said.


    ¡°We don''t mind blood but for now you can use a simple quill and ink,¡± Anisa said.


    I was about to say something to the twins when I heard Lily hiss next to me. I looked at her to see that she had her finger in her mouth. And there was a drop of blood on the contract in front of her.


    My eyes went wide. Then something stung my finger. A drop of blood fell onto the page on the ¡®sign here¡¯ section.


    Then in a blink of an eye, the contracts disappeared from our hands. ¡°We are so glad you agreed to do business with us,¡± Anisa said, clasping her hands together.


    ¡°We''ll summon you when we''ll have a use for your talents,¡± Roderick said and they both whirled around and were ready to float away.


    ¡°Hey, wait, we didn''t agree to anything!¡± I snapped. ¡°We barely read the contracts fully.¡±


    Anisa cocked her head, giving me a look of innocent puzzlement. ¡°If you hadn''t read it then why did you sign it?¡±


    ¡°That wasn''t a sign. Something pricked our fingers. And a drop of blood fell on the page.¡± I glared.


    ¡°That counts as a signature as well,¡± Roderick said, giving the same innocent look as his sister. ¡°We''d said we don''t mind blood.¡±


    ¡°I feel like you are just trying to talk your way out of this, Miss Elsa,¡± Anisa said. ¡°We are handing you over two of the most expensive supernatural products yet this is how you react to paying the price?¡±


    Asmod spoke up before I could. ¡°Forgive her, Madam Malcolm. This is her first time doing business.¡± He gave me a look of silent pleading.


    One of the muscular guards, Josie, brought us two bottles full of silver liquid which seemed to be the water from the moon pond and something that I mistook for a greenish purple sweet potato at first, but it was just the Ghost Sage root. Lily took the items from the guard and looked at me with the same expression as Asmod. I rolled my eyes and huffed in frustration.


    ¡°I guess it was a pleasure doing business with you. Let''s get going, Lily,¡± I said and turned to leave as well.


    ¡°Be prepared for your jobs when we summon you,¡± Roderick said as we stepped out.


    ****


    Asmod drove us back to his Nook and led us up the stairs to his small apartment. All the furniture in his house was fairly short and all the cabinets were mounted low on the wall.


    While we were about to start preparing the bread dough, the doorbell rang. Someone was dropping a delivery. Our other ingredients had arrived. Next we followed the exact recipe that Smokewell had left on the back of the letter.


    First we had to mix the vulture bone dust with the refined flour. Next went the three eggs of the one eyed rooster and the three legged goat''s milk. After whipping it to a thick consistency we had to crush the ghost sage root and mix it into the batter with the moon pond water. It thickened further. Then we put some yeast and baking powder. Lily rolled up her sleeves and kneaded the dough to a soft smoothness. We let it rest for thirty minutes before chucking it into the oven.


    As we sat down at his small dining table, Asmod poured us all some ginger ale. The cat was in a corner, scratching an old blanket Asmod had thrown her. I frowned as I took a sip. ¡°I still don''t believe the contract that Malcolms made us sign was completely clean.¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± Asmod said in a tired tone. ¡°I''ve worked with them before. Yes, they do things that are against the law, but they play fair.¡± After a short pause he added, ¡°in their own way.¡±


    I gave him a skeptical look. ¡°You sound rather uncertain.¡±


    ¡°I trust Mr. Asmod,¡± Lily said after a big sip from her ale. ¡°Because Madam Smokewell trusted Mr. Asmod.¡±


    Before I could say anything the cat hopped into my lap. I perked up and was ready to push her off when I saw the feline snuggling into my skirt. Lily smiled. ¡°Aw, Garnet seems to like you now,¡± she said. ¡°Probably because you showed you meant no harm earlier.¡±


    I frowned again. ¡°I think she likes my skirt more than me.¡±


    ¡°She''ll grow on you,¡± Asmod said with a small smile.


    I scoffed. But I couldn''t deny, when she wasn''t trying to scratch me, she was rather cute. I gave her a little pat on the head.


    ¡°Aww¡­¡± Asmod and Lily said in unison.


    I rolled my eyes but said nothing.


    Then there was a ding! ¡°Oh, the bread is ready!¡± Lily gasped and rushed off to take it out of the oven.


    She brought it over and laid it down on the table. The crust was pink and purple and flecks of bone dust were visible on it. I held back a grimace. ¡°Are you really sure this thing is supposed to be eaten by the cat?¡± I said.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Lily said as she cut a few slices from the bread. ¡°Why else would Madam Smokewell write the recipe?¡±


    The cat hopped up on the table as soon as she saw the bread. She didn''t waste any time to dig into her treat.


    I rested my elbow on the table and propped my chin in my hand. ¡°I mean, I really hope it is safe. We had to sign a shady contract to bake it.¡± I shrugged.


    Lily yawned. I looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall. It was almost midnight.


    ¡°I guess we should start worrying about where we are going to sleep then?¡± I said, getting up from the chair.


    ¡°I have some spare mattresses. You can roll them out in the living room for the night. Tomorrow we''ll find an actual place for you to live in,¡± Asmod said.


    He waved a hand at me to follow him to take the mattresses from him. I got up and was almost out of the small dining room when another voice said, ¡°What about me? You don''t expect me to sleep on that raggedy blanket, do you?¡±


    I paused. I looked back at Lily. She sat frozen by the table, eyes glued to the cat who sat next to the tray of half eaten bread. Soon, my eyes widened too.


    ¡°Don''t just gape at me like that, answer me!¡± the cat snapped in a voice that my mind recognized as a familiar one.


    Lily leaned close to the cat and said, ¡°Madam Smokewell, is this really you?¡±

 4. Omens

    It took me a minute to accept the fact that the cat was talking. And it was talking in Smokewell''s voice. In fact, in the cat''s own words, she was Alana Smokewell herself.


    "Yes, it is me!" the cat snapped again.


    "Why are you a cat?" I asked.


    "I''m not a cat."


    "Do you want me to get a mirror so she can see?" Asmod said.


    That''s when the black cat rolled her eyes and hopped off the table. She climbed up onto the kitchen windowsill, bathing herself in the blue moonlight. Then she licked a paw and rubbed it over her head.


    Two horns sprouted out of her feline skull--they were curved and yellow and striped with black. Her tail turned silver and serrated like a knife and a white patch formed on her stomach. It was a five pointed star with a chain at the centre.


    The creature regarded us with a deadpan stare. "Do I look like a cat now?"


    "Yes," we all said in a unison.


    "You look like a cat with horns and a fancy tail," Lily said.


    "I''m a cat-s¨¬th. Not a cat!" Smokewell hissed.


    "What''s that?" Lily said.


    "A creature capable of stealing souls," Asmod said.


    Smokewell gave a small grin. "So you know."


    The bald man nodded. "My grandma used to tell us many stories of cat-s¨¬ths. According to one of the stories they were witches who would turn into cats to disguise themselves."


    Lily gasped. "I''ve heard of that story too!" She turned back to the cat. "Why don''t you turn back to your human form now, Madam?"


    The black cat sighed. "I can''t." She hopped off the window sill and slowly walked down to the living room. The three of us followed. "The only truth in your tales is that a witch could turn herself into a cat. That''s it. I can¡¯t turn back into a human."


    "Then why did you permanently turn yourself into a cat?" I said.


    "Hmm," the cat dug into Lily''s travel pack. From one of the pouches she pulled out a shiny white thing. It was her ivory tobacco pipe. "Can I get a light, Asmod?" she said.


    Asmod obliged and lit the tobacco in her pipe.


    "Thank you," the cat nodded and took a huff and blew some smoke. "Why did I do it, you ask? It''s the same reason that I stated in my letter. I''m tired." She shifted to hold the pipe with her tail and rested down on all four paws.


    "Tired of...being a human?" I asked, scratching my chin.


    "No, tired of being a witch," Smokewell said as she took another huff of her pipe.


    There was another loud gasp from Lily. "Why?! How could you be tired of being a witch?! You are THE Alana Smokewell!"


    The cat waited patiently for the apprentice to simmer down. Then she took another leisurely drag of her pipe. "First things first, I''m tired of holding the status of a witch. Not its practices. I''m tired of the infamy it comes with. Not its spirit. I''m also tired of always being on the run from the Inquisition. And finally, I¡¯m tired of being broke! The business is as dead as my old human form! And we are the last witches in the country of Ravenwind."


    Asmod frowned. "That can''t be true."


    "It is!" the cat snapped. "The last time I was called to cleanse an accursed land was four months ago. Lily wasn''t able to sell more than three potion bottles in the last seven weeks. Elsa found no one who wanted something divined or wanted their fortune to be told."


    I paused and snuck a hand into my pocket, feeling for my purse. I couldn''t feel much solid metal within. Yep, it seemed like we were pretty broke.


    Lily was pouting next to me. "That I can agree with. We''ve certainly earned a lot less than we used to last year."


    "Witchcraft is not lucrative anymore." Smokewell waved a paw dismissively. "It''s about time we came to terms with that fact."


    Asmod sighed. "Yes, many independent magic users haven''t been living as high as they used to a decade ago."


    Smokewell scoffed. "You can thank the Steam elemental for that. It is the one that is letting the non-users make those carriages that take you from point A to B in minutes. Some of them can even fly fifty people at once!" Her bright red eyes went wide and she clicked her tongue in disgust. "People don''t find the dark existences all that terrifying now that they are capable of feats like these. They aren''t afraid of ghosts and curses and spirits anymore which is making those forces weaker. Which means we don''t get called to solve those problems anymore."


    "And we don''t get to make much money anymore." Lily sighed.


    "So, now what?" I spread my hands in front of me. "We just quit and...farm potatoes or something?"


    "You''ll need land for that," Asmod said.


    "And not to mention we are on the Inquisition''s priority burn list because apparently we were spreading fear among the masses to fill our pockets." Lily rolled her eyes.


    "They aren''t wrong." Smokewell took another deep drag from her pipe. "It''s just unfortunate that we can''t do that anymore."


    "You still haven''t answered my question," I said. "What are we supposed to do now? We can''t keep living in Asmod''s shop forever."


    The cat blew a cloud of smoke and looked at me with a glint in her eyes. "Bring me more s¨¬th bread and lemme show you something interesting."This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Lily did as she was told. Smokewell knocked the tobacco out of her pipe and filled it with the crumbs of the s¨¬th bread. "Give me a light, Asmod," she said.


    Asmod lit the pipe for her again. She closed her eyes and took a deep drag. Then she opened her eyes. They weren''t red anymore but glowing yellow. The irises and pupils were gone. It was nothing but sockets filled with yellow light.


    The cat swayed from side to side as her whiskers twitched a little. She walked up to the small fireplace by the opposite wall and hopped upon the mantle. She pulled out a feathered quill that was resting by an ink bottle. Next she grabbed a coin from the bowl on a side table in the living room. Then she reached for a porcelain urn on top of a closet.


    ¡°Those are my mother''s ashes!¡± Asmod rushed and retrieved the urn before the cat could drop and shatter it.


    The cat''s eyes finally turned back to her normal red. She blew the smoke out of her mouth. ¡°Those are the omens for our future,¡± she said.


    ¡°Omens?¡± I said.


    The cat lay the objects on the floor at the centre of the room. ¡°The quill, the coin and Mommy Asmod''s precious urn all indicate to things that are going to to happen in future,¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°So when you smoke the s¨¬th bread you can¡­see the future?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not see it with my own eyes. But I can see things that can help us piece together the future.¡± She swept her paw over the items laid out in front of her. ¡°These things are like sign boards on a road showing us the way. But we have to decode the directions written down on them if we don''t want to get lost.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll just make a guess and say the coin represents money that we are going to make in the future,¡± Lily said.


    ¡°What about the quill then?¡± Asmod said, picking it up.


    ¡°Something to do with writing something, I think?¡± Lily shrugged.


    ¡°Like signing a contract?¡± I said. All eyes turned to me. My own eyes narrowed down on the quill Asmod was holding. ¡°The quill has a feather. We signed a contract with Malcolms. They had feathers on their wings too.¡±


    ¡°So they''ll call you up to do a job according to your contract,¡± Asmod said, frowning. ¡°And there will be money in it, I believe.¡±


    ¡°I don''t like this,¡± Lily said.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Smokewell asked.


    ¡°Because after the quill and coin, you pointed at the urn. There''s no doubt that it means death,¡± she said.


    ¡°It can also be someone else''s death,¡± Asmod said.


    Lily knit her eyebrows and crossed her arms. ¡°I, personally, don''t want to be involved with any kind of death. Even if it is a stranger''s death.¡±


    ¡°It doesn''t necessarily have to be death.¡± Smokewell patted her chin with her paw. ¡°The urn might also symbolise burning something. Or preserving something. These items just point a way towards the future. The future hasn''t happened yet. The meaning of these omens can change with time.¡±


    Everyone remained quiet for a long time. And before anyone could say anything, there was a knock at the door.


    "Girls, keep your gear ready," the cat said, ¡°I forgot to mention that another omen was a door.¡±


    Lily and I exchanged glances.


    "Don''t be scared," Smokewell said. "Just go and get your gear. Asmod, you should answer the door."


    Lily and I dug into our packs. Instincts controlled my movements. I pulled out a thick leather tome with a pentacle on front. Then I grabbed my knife and my broom. Lily pulled out her deck of cards along with her box of potions.


    When we went to the door, it was the muscular guard, Josie, from the Malcolm mansion."Bosses have summoned you. It''s time for you to do your job," she said.


    ****


    Asmod rode with us in the Malcom''s steam carriage. Smokewell sat on the seat opposite to the three of us. "Okay, kids be careful about what''s going to happen next. I hope none of you are too scared?"


    "Should we be?" Lily asked.


    "No, it really won''t help much," Smokewell said.


    "Is there anything else that those omens could tell?" I said. "What are they gonna make us do?"


    ¡°I''m not sure. The only omen that we haven¡¯t deciphered is the urn. Maybe Lily was right. The job might involve death.¡± The cat shrugged.


    Lily shivered and winced. ¡°What if the omen isn''t indicating towards death but preservation of something like you said? Maybe the Malcolms want us to pickle something? What if you misinterpreted a pickle jar for Mommy Asmod''s urn.¡±


    The cat wasn''t amused. ¡°Lilian, I''m a cat, not just any cat but a cat s¨¬th. You know what that means?¡±


    ¡°What does it mean?¡± Lily asked.


    ¡°It means I''m smarter than you and know better than you. The s¨¬th bread''s smoke guided me towards the urn. If it wanted to guide me towards a pickle jar, I would''ve said the next omen was a pickle jar. Not an urn.¡± The cat licked her paw and wiped her forehead again. "Remember, what I¡¯ve taught you, girls. What have I taught you?¡± She looked between Lily and I.


    ¡°A witch¡¯s real weapon is clear thinking,¡± Lily recited studiously.


    The cat nodded in approval. ¡°Precisely, and besides that, be careful with the Malcolms. They might have the wings of an angel but there''s a reason why they are here in the mortal realm."


    "You know the reason?" Lily asked, curious as the rest of us.


    "Their story isn''t the most unique one." Smokewell waved a paw. "They stole from their boss. Their boss got angry. Either they were kicked down into the mortal world or they fled."


    "I wouldn''t imagine the Malcolms would want to do something bad to you, though," Asmod said, "You are still new around here."


    The carriage soon came to a halt. The doors opened on the pristine front porch. We walked through the tall entrance doors we had just passed through a few hours ago.


    "You returned sooner than expected," Anisa said, grinning.


    "And we''re just as pleased to see you now," Roderick said. Then his eyes happened on the black cat and curiosity flickered in his eyes. "Hello, Alana." He smiled.


    "A pleasure, Roderick." The cat bowed her head.


    "So formal, it''s almost like you are a completely different person now." Roderick grinned widely.


    The cat''s face remained neutral. "Yes, I don''t feel the same at all. Almost as if I grew fur and a tail and became a cat."


    Anisa laughed. "We did wonder about the ''cat food'' the girls mentioned. This just confirms it then. The girls are indeed your pupil."


    "Indeed," Smokewell said.


    "I wonder though," Roderick said, "Why a cat?"


    "Why not a cat?" Smokewell said.


    "I don''t think my brother has a good enough counter to that." Anisa nudged Roderick with an elbow.


    He kept smiling but the expression only seemed to be made of good nature. "I''m glad you came with the girls this time. You too, Asmod. I''m sure they''ll only find your help valuable in their job."


    "I''m wondering if I should decline and go home now?" Asmod whispered.


    "Too late," I said.


    Anisa and Roderick beckoned us to follow them. This time they used their feet instead of wings to move. They led us deeper into the mansion until we were at a storage room in the back.


    "So, what is the job you have for us?" Lily said.


    "It''s fairly simple," Roderick said as he unlocked a small trap door into the ground. "We just want you to fetch something from the basement." He threw the door open.


    Lily and I peered into the opening. I stopped breathing for an instance. Beyond the door was a vast forest.

 5. A Dangerous Game

    "What the heck is that?" I said as I looked down at the green landscape abuzz with the chirping of birds.


    "Let''s just say it''s a place where your talents can come in handy," Anisa said.


    "Come in handy for what purpose, though?" Lily asked.


    ¡°He did say he wanted us to fetch something for them,¡± I said.


    ¡°Precisely," Roderick said.


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Are we really the right people for the job?"


    ¡°I''d say there''s no one better than you for this,¡± Anisa said, smiling.


    ¡°I''ll hold back the flattery for now,¡± Smokewell said, ¡°Tell us what it is that you said you wanted us to fetch?¡±


    ¡°It''s an artefact called Eyes of Cornelius,¡± Roderick said.


    Smokewell cocked her head. ¡°What does it do?¡±


    Anisa¡¯s smile remained comfortable on her lips. ¡°You shouldn''t concern yourself with that. Your job is just to go and get it for us.¡±


    ¡°I didn''t sign any contracts,¡± Smokewell said, ¡°I don''t have to do anything you say.¡±


    ¡°But the girls have signed it,¡± Roderick said. ¡°You do know how the contract works, right, Alana?¡±


    The cat remained quiet, glaring coldly at the smug angel.


    Lily''s face was losing all color from fear. She leaned closer to the black cat. ¡°Madam, they didn''t give us a chance to read anything. How does the contract really work?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Tell her, Alana,¡± Anisa said. ¡°Don''t you care for your pupil.¡±


    The cat''s face was unreadable. But her eyes were focused on Anisa. ¡°When you sign their contract, your halo gets marked with an aura of sin.¡±


    That didn''t sound good. I looked over at Lily''s halo but it didn''t seem much different than how it had been the last time I saw it. Then I noticed somethig. A small crimson ring had formed on it. It looked like a bloody thread had been wound around it.


    ¡°That sin will keep growing bigger and more prominent if you keep resisting the terms of that contract,¡± Smokewell said, ¡°If your halo turns completely red¡­he will come and slice you down. And it turns red pretty fast.¡±


    ¡°Wait, back up a bit. Who will slice us down?¡± I asked in a small, terrified voice.


    ¡°Escalyan,¡± Somekwell said.


    Lily and Asmod shrieked in unison. ¡°That''s the God of Justice! I thought he was just a mythical figure from the scriptures!¡±


    ¡°Did you forget that we used to be a part of that same myth?¡± Roderick put an arm around his sister''s shoulder and they both smiled. I hated those smiles.


    ¡°So are you going to help your pupils now, Alana? Or will you let Divine Judgement strike them down?¡± Anisa said.


    The pupils in Smokewell''s eyes narrowed down to needles. Then she arched her back and turned to Lily and I. ¡°Seriously, I die for one day and you get me in this mess the moment I resurrect?¡±


    Both of us remained silent in our guilt.


    Roderick turned to us. ¡°Once you enter through the door, your hexonomicons will give you certain directions to guide you in that world." He pointed at the leather bound notebooks we were carrying.


    "You should get going now," Anisa said. "You are on a deadline."


    "What?!" I gaped at them. "How long?"


    "Five hours."


    "What?!" I gaped at them again. "What happens if we don''t return in that time?"


    "You''ll be stuck there forever," Anisa said. ¡°And it''s not a good place for mere mortals.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ****


    On our way down, I grabbed the broom and straddled it mid-air. I focused, trying to make it fly. It didn''t.


    My heart sank. Why wasn''t it working? I tried to focus harder. But nothing happened. Before I knew it, my ass was on the ground. Lily landed next to me, graceful as a ballerina.


    Surprisingly, the impact of the fall hadn''t hurt me. No, the fall was the least of my worries. The cat was giving me a deadpan stare. "Why do you have the broom between your legs?" Smokewell said.


    "Oh...that um..." I don''t know if the truth would''ve been more embarassing if I''d said it out loud, compared to what they were seeing in front of their eyes.


    ¡°You won''t be able to make that thing hover until you''ve spent two decades studying it,¡± she said. ¡°You really thought you could make it fly?¡±


    Then another bit of information surfaced into my mind. Brooms served multiple purposes to the witches in this world. The number of purposes a witch could use the broom for depended on her profieciency of hexes. At my current level of expertise (or Old Elsa¡¯s level, more precisely), the most I could do with the broom was cleanse an area of ritual and help add more power to them.


    I guessed the reason this information hadn''t come to me sooner was because I''d sub-consciously made my judgement that brooms let witches fly. I hadn''t expected it to serve a different purpose. It was still just a guess. But I would need to figure out how these memories worked later.


    "Open your hexonomicons," Smokewell said. "Tell me what they read."


    I opened my leather tome and something appeared on the last page.


    Dungeon: Belly of the Paradise.


    Objective: Retrieve the Eyes of Cornelius


    Time left before Dungeon Entrapment: 4hr 59mins


    Smokewell scoffed. "Just as I thought."


    "What do you mean?" Lily said.


    "An old fable that I''ve read talks about a game that gods play where they make mortals go to a dangerous place and do things," Smokewell said as she hopped on top of a rock and arched her back. "Some interpret it as an allegory for life and all that crap. Not me. I knew that this game was real and it was a game where people died running errands for Gods. This is probably one of those."


    "Um, I think calling it a game is...putting it mildly, don''t you think?" I say.


    "It''s a game for those above." Smokewell pointed at the sky. The door had disappeared. ¡°Those dangerous places were called ¡®Dungeons¡¯. Hardly any mortals in those fables I read could finish the errand.¡±


    ¡°Um why was that?¡± Lily asked anxiously.


    ¡°They died before they could get to the objective,¡± Smokewell said, ¡°But the fable always ended with the same old moral--the way out only appears when you achieve your goal.¡±


    ¡°So the door will appear once we find the Eyes of Cornelius,¡± Asmod said.


    I swallowed hard. "Seems like we''ll just have to play the game then."


    "Then we should start by scoping out the area," Asmod said and dug into the pouch on his hip. He pulled out a deceptively small folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it the size of it was that of a king sized bed spread.


    He painted several symbols on the sheet with blue ink rather than the red one he used to make the greeting cards with. The spots on the sheet he had made the symbols on twisted and detached themselves from the paper, transforming into paper birds and taking off into the air. They dispersed into the sky before disappearing out of sight.


    After about ten minutes, Asmod said, "There''s a graveyard to the South. A temple to the East. A village to the North West. And a city up North. I''ll make a bird land on each of these check points to mark the locations. Some birds are still in the air. They''ll alert me if anything weird or dangerous comes our way."


    "Perfect," Lily said. "So, which of these places would the Eyes of Cornelius be?"


    "Temple," Smokewell said, "If the angels are drooling over it, then it must be something that belonged to the gods. It won''t hurt to check the temple first."


    Asmod nodded. "Temple it is then."


    "Wait," I said.


    All heads turned to me. I adjusted my hat nervously. "Have you guys considered what we''ll do once we find the Eyes?"


    "Go home, of course." Lily shrugged.


    "What else are we supposed to do?" Smokewell cocked her head.


    "Yeah, that''s the thing," I said. "We don''t have a home. I know Asmod will let us squat for a while at his place but what comes after that? Also, we are not sure about the status of the Inquisition. They are probably still hunting for us. Our names were still on their list, remember?"


    There was a pause of a thoughtful silence. Then a gentle gust of wind. I kept talking.


    "We know the angels are powerful. They could''ve come to get those Eyes for themselves. But they sent us instead. Doesn''t that mean that something is stopping them from entering here?" I said.


    "Do you mean that this is the place where they might''ve been exiled from?" Lily said.


    I pointed my broom at her. "Bingo!"


    "Bingo?" Asmod frowned.


    So that wasn''t a game or an expression in this world. I''ll keep that in mind.


    "Think of it," I kept talking, "there might be something we can take from here for ourselves and sell it off. There must be something worth taking from a place that can forbid people like the Malcolms from entering."


    "But, we only have five hours," Lily said.


    "Yes," I said, "That''s why we should split. Two of us can go get the Eyes. The other two can find some valuable loot. Asmod''s birds can keep us informed with each other¡¯s location. What do you say?"

 6. From the Fables

    Smokewell was the one who made the teams. Lily and Asmod were sent off to check out the temple. The cat made me follow her towards the graveyard. We had been walking in silence for a good while before I decided to clear my throat.


    ¡°Seems like a good time to take a sip of water,¡± Smokewell said.


    I sighed and shook my head. ¡°No, I''m not thirsty. I''m just¡­more worried,¡± I said.


    The cat turned her head. ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°Two things,¡± I said, ¡°First, why did you send Lily to find the Eyes. What if she runs into some big trouble? She has still got so much to learn.¡± That information about Lily''s field experience as a witch had come from some internal digging into Old Elsa''s memories. And soon as those things had dawned on me, I felt myself grow anxious with worry. I felt the need to look out for her. For a moment, I was unsure if it was the part of Old Elsa in me who was worried or if it was me?


    ¡°She has to learn to face and rise above the troubles some day. Especially now that I won''t be able to hold her hand all the time.¡± The cat shrugged. ¡°Also, it''s not like I threw her to the wolves completely naked. She has Asmod with her. That man may be short in stature, but there is little that he can''t do with those inks and brushes of his. I trust him to protect her if the so-called trouble arrives while not losing his mind with fear himself. However, enough about them.¡± She turned her head to look at me over her shoulder. Her head could turn all the way around like an owl. I almost jumped at the sight. ¡°What''s the second thing that worries you?¡±


    I discreetly wiped some sweat off my brow before saying, ¡°The second thing is, why are we going to the graveyard of all places to look for something valuable?¡±


    ¡°Didn''t you see where we are?¡± Smokewell said. ¡°As you said, this is the place that the Malcolms were forbidden from entering. The so-called heaven that the myths written by us mortals depict. Graveyard is where all the good stuff is at.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°I still don''t get it. And I mean, I don''t get any of it at all even slightly,¡± I said, ¡°If this is the ¡®heaven¡¯ from our myths, why is there a graveyard up here? And why is all the good stuff going to be there of all places?¡±


    Smokewell groaned. ¡°Sometimes I forget no one is as intelligent as I am,¡± she said. ¡°Oh, what a curse being humble can be sometimes.¡±


    I gave the cat a deadpan glare. ¡°Can you just get to the point already?¡±


    ¡°It''s complicated how this place works. And surprisingly, I don''t know all of it either,¡± the cat said, ¡°People in heaven don''t die so they don''t get buried. But graveyards are places where they bury their impurities.¡±


    ¡°Impurities?¡± I said.


    ¡°This is just a theory.¡± Smokewell raised a paw. ¡°But the impurities are remains of the mortal world. You ascend to a higher level of existence when you shed such impurities. Sin is an example of impurity. Pride, envy, anger, sloth, greed, gluttony, lust. Sins aren''t just imaginary concepts. People manifest them in physical forms. Gluttony is associated with food and drink. Someone who is starving can''t be accused of being a glutton. If the sin is manifested in physical form it can also be extinguished in physical form. So how would an actual glutton rid oneself of gluttony?¡±


    By burying or donating all unwanted and unneeded food, I thought to myself. In a graveyard, in this case. ¡°I see.¡± I nodded.


    The cat turned her head again and smirked. ¡°Now you can guess how a greedy person can rid oneself of their greed.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± I said. ¡°I always thought people had to give up their sins to actually enter heaven.¡±


    The cat scoffed. ¡°And that''s why you are far from making the broom fly. The layman''s understanding of heaven is as superficial as it can get,¡± she said, ¡°It''s not just the pure and holy who get to enter heaven. You don¡¯t even have to die to enter heaven. Remember, Malcolms used to live here, they were maybe even born here, probably at a very high echelon before they were kicked out. The alleged reason being stealing from their own employer.¡±


    ¡°But they were still kicked out, right?¡± I said.


    ¡°That still doesn''t prove anything,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°We still don''t know their entire story. What we do know is that they stole a fortune from the one in charge. And they still know how to access this place. Even if they can''t enter here, they can still send people through to do their bidding. Heaven still isn''t as infallible as we like to think. But besides that, visiting the graveyard is a precautionary measure,¡± she said.


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°What kind of precautionary measure?¡±


    ¡°Did you forget Mommy Asmod''s urn?¡± she said. ¡°If death is really involved in the job, it would be better to get it out of the way quickly.¡±


    ¡°You mean since there was only one omen relating to death so we can avoid an actual death by stealing someone''s ash from the graveyard or something?¡± I said.


    The cat nodded. ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°Do the omens really work like that? What about cause and effect?¡± I said.


    ¡°I know that cause and effect can be changed. If we can change it, then why not change it to something we want?¡± The cat shrugged.


    I was quiet for a long time before leaning down to face her and grinned. ¡°You are also looking out for Lily by preventing any encounter with death, aren''t you?¡± I said.


    The cat bared her claws at me. ¡°Don''t get in my face like that or I''ll redesign it for you.¡±


    ¡°You might be a scary soul-stealing cat s¨¬th on the outside but deep down, you are just a big fluffy ball of¨C¡±


    Scratch!


    There were three bright red lines on my face. And they burned like fire. I whimpered under its sting.


    ¡°You should be grateful I didn''t make you bleed,¡± Smokewell said as she sat licking her paw. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    By the time I was done tending to the cuts on my face, we had arrived at the ¡°graveyard.¡± And yes, it was the perfect description for that place. It was a field full of concrete tombs which probably held the caskets within. Each tomb was marked with a headstone and the epitaphs all made me curious.


    ¡°Here lies Jormyn''s wrath.¡±


    ¡°Here lies Nera''s past envies.¡±


    ¡°Here lies Viktor''s unfinished business.¡±


    ¡°How did you even know about this?¡± I said, gaping at the sight in front of me. ¡°Is it because you¡­um kinda are a bit dead yourself?¡±


    The cat scoffed. ¡°Not at all,¡± she said. ¡°This was from another fable.¡± She made her way through the aisle between the graves, looking for something specific. ¡°These days fables are just slotted as stories for children. Their original purpose was to spread knowledge, disguised as simple stories. There are fables that tell you about a fallen kingdom that no one talks about and fables about an art of magic that is now forgotten. It''s because the kings and sects and covens and government all like to keep these things hidden in secret manuals, the knowledge remains limited. But that''s where the genius of fables comes in. They can be passed down orally, they are easy to remember and knowledge is mostly linked to the central theme. When the story reaches the right set of ears or eyes, the knowledge spreads.¡±


    Smokewell hopped onto a particular gravestone and said, ¡°Let¡¯s steal this one,¡± she said. The headstone read:


    Here lies Bartholomew¡¯s greed.


    I hesitated. ¡°I get a bad feeling about this,¡± I said.


    The cat gave me an exasperated look. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I mean, this place is heaven and we are¡­stealing someone''s greed,¡± I said, ¡°I feel like we are going to carry something unwanted with us.¡±


    ¡°Like a curse?¡± The cat raised an eyebrow.


    I nodded. ¡°Yeah, something like that.¡±


    ¡°What''s gotten into you? We are witches. We are immune to curses. We cast curses. We don''t get inflicted upon by them.¡±


    For a moment I was uncertain and then I dug into Old Elsa''s memories. Then I said, ¡°What about the incident with Neema Darkstar? Her''s is the most infamous of deaths among witches. She died by a curse.¡±


    The cat rolled her eyes. ¡°Neema was cursed by another powerful witch. Not some stupid grave.¡±


    ¡°A stupid grave in heaven!¡± I said. ¡°Remember, this is the place that can keep even the Malcolms from entering the door?¡±


    ¡°Don''t start with the Malcolms again,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°Just rob this damn grave. We also have to see if Lily and Asmod have stolen the Eyes or not.¡±


    Before I could answer, I heard a whisper.


    A chill ran down my spine. I stopped breathing for a second. The cat cocked her head at me. ¡°What happened? You look like you saw something worse than a talking cat that''s smarter than you.¡±


    ¡°Did you hear it too?¡± I said.


    ¡°It''s only me who has been talking all this time. I didn''t hear anything,¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°No, it was a whisper,¡± I turned, looking around for the source of the sound. The voice had been soft. It spoke in a language I had never heard before but I could understand it for some reason. I followed the sound.


    Smokewell groaned on the headstone behind me. ¡°Elsa, now you''re just stalling it. Just pry open this damn grave and let''s get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Just give me a second,¡± I said as I kept looking around. I came to a halt in front of a particular tomb. Smokewell came and stood next to me.


    ¡°What did you even hear?¡± she said.


    ¡°Here by the daffodils. That''s what I heard.¡± I gazed at the daffodil flowers blooming around the tomb in front of us. The epitaph read: Here lies Yazara En. ¡°I think we should try this one first.¡±


    Smokewell grimaced. ¡°You had a problem with stealing a grave of greed but you don''t mind raiding a grave that has an actual corpse. Your moral compass is truly messed up.¡±


    Truth be told, it wasn''t my moral compass that made me want to open the grave. It was the fact that the pentacle tattoo on my palm had started to heat up as I arrived at this spot. ¡°Wait, didn''t you say that people don''t die in heaven?¡± I asked.


    ¡°They don''t,¡± she said. ¡°This is another kind of impurity.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°You mean¡­someone left behind their mortal body?¡±


    The cat nodded. ¡°This person probably made some kind of vow or ritual to separate their soul from their body,¡± she said, ¡°That''s basically what I did to get my current form.¡±


    That was probably what the liberation ritual had done to Old Elsa as well¨Cthe reason why I was in her body right now. I closed my tattooed palm, the mark was getting warmer and warmer for some reason. ¡°I''m positive about it. Let''s dig up this grave first,¡± I said, ¡°You said we should change cause and effect to get the omen of death out of the way before any of us gets hurt. This is our chance.¡±


    Now it was the cat''s turn to frown. ¡°You really aren''t getting a bad feeling about this now?¡± she said.


    ¡°That bad feeling earlier was just my moral compass making me uncertain about raiding a graveyard,¡± I said. ¡°I''ve made up my mind now.¡±


    ¡°Your moral compass really is messed up,¡± the cat said again.


    I ignored the comment and said, ¡°How do we unseal the tomb?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Open your damn book and find a ritual or something.¡± The cat shrugged. ¡°I''m not holding your hand everywhere.¡±


    I groaned and rolled my eyes. But since she was being this casual about it, I was sure she had taught Old Elsa something that could come in handy at times like these.


    I opened my hexonomicon.


    ****


    It took five minutes of flipping through the pages and two minutes of skimming to find what I was looking for. I shut the book and got down to performing the ritual.


    Old Elsa''s muscle memory seemed to guide me through the process. First I cleansed the area around Yazara''s tomb with my broom. Next I carved a pentacle on top of its lid with my knife. And at the centre of the five headed star I carved a container with a lid crumbling away. The picture at the centre of the star was called an ¡®emblem¡¯. An emblem was the part that signified the purpose of a ritual. It is what could make or completely mess up the entire ritual.


    Next I plucked off a hair from my head. ¡°Ouch.¡± I set the strand at the centre of the star. This was in order to charge the ritual with power.


    Next I put both my hands on the pentacle and then I said my prayer.


    ¡°That which obstructs my path shall collapse


    ¡°All the barriers, walls and traps


    ¡°Whether at night or in the light of day


    when I call upon you, you shall clear my way¡±


    A shockwave passed over the lid of the tomb and the thing began to shake. Then the lid exploded under my palms as if it was made of glass.


    This was called the dismantling ritual, meant especially for occasions like these.


    As the tomb crumbled and the dust settled, the wooden casket within finally came into our view. Smokewell giggled next to me excitedly. ¡°Open the box. Now open it!¡±


    I was about to open the casket when Asmod and Lily arrived at the graveyard. Lily yelled, ¡°We found it! We found the Eyes of Cornelius!¡±

 7. Liberation Ritual

    "We found the Eyes of Cornelius!" Lily yelled as she ran up from behind.


    Smokewell greeted her with the good ol'' claws to the face. The girl cried out in pain. "What was that for?!"


    "Because we are already in a graveyard," I said. "The last thing we need is someone suddenly yelling up from behind."


    "Speak for yourself," Smokewell said, "You are the only wuss here. I just felt like scratching someone''s face." She licked her paw again.


    I rolled my eyes and turned to Lily and Asmod. "So you guys really found the Eyes of Cornelius?"


    Lily nodded gingerly as she touched the cuts on her face and pointed at Asmod next to her. The short man was holding a lump of solid concrete in his hands. It looked like the head of a statue of some guy, half bald head and eyes made of glinting silver.


    "I said this back at the temple as well, Lilian, but I don''t think this is what we were supposed to take," Asmod said with an uncertain look on his face.


    "What do you mean?" Lily said, "That was the temple of the Saint Cornelius the First. That''s the head of his statue. And it has the Eyes of Cornelius in it."


    "He''s right," Smokewell said. "That''s not what we are looking for."


    "How?" Lily gaped at us all.


    "Um, probably because the door didn''t appear even after you retrieved it," I said, waving my arms around us, "The door would''ve opened if that was the right artefact."


    Lily groaned and turned to Asmod, "Even I suggested we should''ve taken the statue''s crotch instead. The Eyes are probably a code for his testicles."


    Asmod grimaced. So did I. "That doesn''t sound right," I said.


    Lily held open her hexonomicon for us to see. We had just two hours and thirty two minutes left before the Dungeon Entrapment.


    I sighed. "I''m sure we''ll find it, don''t worry." I turned back to Yazara''s casket behind us. Smokewell hopped onto my shoulder to see.


    I finally slid the lid off. Bright yellow light poured into our vision. My eyes went wide. Asmod walked forward. Even Lily peered over my shoulder. We all let out a collective gasp.


    "The skeleton...the skeleton!" Lily blurted, pointing into the casket.


    "Yeah." I nodded. "I can see it too, Lily. It is golden."


    Smokewell giggled. "We are going to be rich! We are going to be so, so rich."


    "Um, we''ll have to return back to our home for that," Asmod said, "Gold probably doesn''t have the same value here in heaven if people just give it up like this."


    Smokewell''s paws dug into my shoulder. "He''s right!" she snapped and turned to Lily, "You idiot, we need to go find the Eyes quickly or we''ll be stuck here forever."


    "Hey, I tried my best, it''s not my fault that people in heaven call their testicles ''Eyes''." Lily crossed her arms and glared at the cat.


    "Shut up, everyone!" I snapped, "We still don''t know if the Eyes are actually testicles. Let''s not go on making any crass assumptions."


    "Everyone be quiet," Asmod said, "One of my birds sent me a message. A big group is headed this way."


    "Must be a funeral procession." Lily shrugged.


    "People don''t die in heaven, Lily," I said, "We just learned that."


    "That''s not completely true. Their soul can still be snatched out and turned prisoner. It''s still a kind of death," Smokewell said. "Also a kind of slavery, now that I think of it."


    Before Lily or I could say anything Asmod said, "They are getting clos--oh wait, here they come." He pointed at the gate behind him. A horde of people entered through the main entrance of the graveyard.


    Lily quickly dragged us all behind a large tomb that read: Here lies Kyza''s hatred.


    The mob of people stormed into the graveyard. They carried spears and pitchforks in their hands and they seemed pretty pissed off at something. It wasn''t hard to tell what they were here to do but I managed to hold off from jumping to conclusions. Then I saw the man they had tied to a wooden log and carried like a pig about to be roasted on a bonfire.


    "I don''t think cooking a live person is a good thing," Lily said.


    Smokewell scoffed. "Thanks for letting us know, Lily. We were really on the fence with that one."


    "We need to help him!" Lily snapped.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Keep it down or they''ll hear us," I snapped back in a hushed whisper.


    I looked up at Smokewell who was still perched on my shoulder. "We are surely going to help him but how should we go about doing this?"


    "We don''t owe him a penny. Why do you want to help him?" the cat said.


    I held back a groan. "Because that scene looks like something that we would''ve been in had the Inquisition caught us."


    "So? It''s not like anyone would''ve come to save our asses had it been us. People already think of us as bringers of misfortune. Let that bastard die," Smokewell said.


    "Madam, that''s not why you became a witch!" Lily said in a hushed voice.


    "She is right," Asmod said, "You were one of the few good witches who helped cleanse the accursed lands. Unlike the greedy covens who were only after intimidating commoners into committing expensive rituals."


    "Did you forget that I said I''m retiring from being a witch?" Smokewell said.


    "You weren''t retiring from its practices, if I remember correctly," I said, smirking.


    Smokewell groaned. "If you want to help that poor bastard, first listen to what those people are saying." She pointed her paw back at the crowd.


    We turned back to the mob lynching.


    "Your family are nothing but a bunch of power hungry fraudsters!" someone from the mob yelled out while two people were lighting a fire nearby.


    "That''s not true," the man bound to the wooden log said. "My great grandfather wasn''t a fraud!"


    "Then why didn''t he teach anyone the arts that he''d learned? He kept hogging away all the power to himself. He became the head of the village and even had a damn temple made after himself so that everyone could worship him. He kept getting stronger while he made everyone helpless," the first man yelled. "But today we end the tyranny of the Cornelius family once and for all!"


    We all paused at the last sentence. I looked back at Asmod who was still holding onto the concrete head of the statue. "Heaven is quite the small place, eh?" I said.


    "Change of plans, kids," Smokewell said. "We need to save that man at all costs."


    I scoffed, "And you were questioning my morals a moment ago."


    Smokewell ignored me and said, "One of you needs to cause a distraction, while someone else focuses on scaring away the crowd. The last one will obviously go and free the man in the meantime."


    "I''ll take care of causing a distraction," Asmod said. "But we won''t have any more eyes in the sky, mind you."


    Lily was about to say something when I cut her off, "I''ll do the crowd control. You focus on freeing Cornelius."


    The girl nodded at me. My eyes turned back to the crowd. There were at least fifty of them there, All of them armed and all of them blazing with anger. Yet, for some reason my heart wasn''t racing. And their fierce yelling seemed to come from somewhere far away. There was another voice that kept echoing inside my head.


    "Here by the daffodils," someone whispered to me. It was the same voice from before.


    With Smokewell still perched on my shoulder, I padded out from behind the grave and over to Yazara''s tomb that we had dismantled a few minutes ago. I pulled the golden skeleton out of the casket. "What are you going to do?" the cat said, half-annoyed and half-curious.


    I didn''t say anything. Honestly, I didn''t seem to know myself what I was doing. But it was that muscle memory thing happening again. I was drawing a pentacle on the ground with my knife, placing the golden bones on the outline of the circle and the star. At the centre of the pentacle, I drew an eye with my knife. And inside the big iris, I placed the golden skull.


    The voice in my head was whispering something else now, "Yes, set me free."


    I raised my knife and sliced a cut on my palm. The same palm that had the pentacle tattoo on it. Blood oozed out of the wound. I winced and made a fist, dripping the blood onto the ritual sign to charge it.


    "Yes, set me free."


    There was an explosion. A black storm erupted out of the pentacle I''d drawn on the ground. A vortex formed in the air in front of us.


    The cat clung to my shoulder tighty. "What the devil is that?!"


    "I don''t know!" I yelled over the roaring black storm.


    From the eye of the vortex, a giant ethereal mass emerged. It was a person. He must''ve been tall as a tree, dressed in torn rags that barely covered his rippling muscles. He had flowing black hair and a face covered in a long shaggy beard. His eyes glinted like two individual suns in his fierce visage.


    The giant man turned to me, the storm still whirling around him. He leaned down and placed a hand on his heart with an earnest look on his face. "How may I serve you, my master?"


    I gasped. I looked down at the golden bones inside the pentacle. This was Yazara? Or whatever was left of him in that skeleton.


    I didn''t waste much time pondering on how he had gotten this big. I hardened my face with authority and pointed at the angry mob that was staring at us in horror. "Frighten them away," I said.


    "As you wish, my master." Yazara bowed and turned to the crowd.


    The giant lifted one huge foot into the air and brought it down on the scampering mob. My face turned pale. "Yazara no--"


    There was a huge thundering slam as his foot came down on the mob of people. Followed by a loud, wet crunch as Yazara''s giant foot sank into the ground. The impact sent shockwaves in the vicinity, making my bones rattle under my flesh and shaking the perimeter walls of the graveyard.


    After I regained my balance, I could tell none of the raging mob had been able to escape the giant''s foot. The realization hadn''t properly sank into me when the big spirit giant lifted his foot again. I sucked in a lungful of air and screamed, "Yazara, stop!"


    The giant stopped at once, turned his head to me, confused. "What happened master?"


    "What are you doing?!" I waved my hands at the destruction under his foot.


    "Didn''t you say, flatten them away?" Yazara said.


    I paused. My heart had stopped beating for a second. But I shook the feeling away and glared at the giant. "That''s it, we are done here!" I yelled. "Leave at once."


    "Are you liberating me, master?" he asked.


    "Yes, I¡¯m liberating you. Leave!" I yelled back.


    In another whirl of black storm, the giant spirit disappeared. In the last gust of wind, a voice whispered in my head again, "Thank you."

 8. Eyes of Cornelius

    After it was over, I collapsed on the ground, too horrified to look at the destruction that I''d left behind. I know, even if it was Yazara who had flattened those people, it was still because I''d managed to summon him.


    My stomach turned, whether it was by the smell of blood or the overwhelming guilt, I wasn''t sure. And finally, I leaned ahead and threw up on the grass in front of me. When I sat back, wiping my mouth, my head was filled with whispers, similar to the ones that had led me to Yazara''s grave. But that had been just one voice. This time I heard too many people whispering at once.


    I whimpered and covered my ears, feeling even more nauseous of all the voices speaking so close at the same time. Even though I felt drained, I managed to calm myself down and push the voices away. I took off my hat and lay down on my back, looking up at the sky. After a second, Asmod, Lily, Smokewell and the man that we''d saved, came and stood over me.


    I forced myself to meet their gazes. First I looked over at Smokewell, "I-I killed them. S-So many people at once," I stuttered.


    The man of the Cornelius family looked at me hesitantly before saying, "No, you didn''t kill anyone."


    All eyes turned to him. "What you did, it seems, was summon an Abyssal being," he said, "Those are powerful but in this domain of reality, even they can''t kill anyone."


    Asmod cleared his throat, "Pardon me, but that mob that was about to lynch you seems very much dead."


    "I know that''s what it would seem like," the man said, "But their souls are still present in the vicinity." He looked down at me again, "I assume, you can hear them?"


    I felt a conflicting sense of doom and relief as I nodded.


    "A Soul Sage can return their souls back to their bodies and it''ll be as if nothing happened to them," the man said.


    I sat up with a jerk. "That''s possible?!" I said.


    The man''s expression seemed to lighten with my reaction. "Indeed. It will still be quite an effort to explain what happened but those people can be brought back to consciousness."


    Smokewell gave me one last weird look before turning to the man and saying, "Hey, listen, it''s all well and good to know that my pupil technically didn''t commit a mass murder here. But we are running on a tight schedule. I''m going to cut to the chase and ask, do you happen to belong to the Cornelius family?"


    Lily raised the severed concrete head of the statue.


    The man''s eyes went wide. "That''s my great grand father''s head from the Temple!"


    "Perfect," Smokewell said, "We need something called the Eyes of Cornelius. I''m sure you can lend it to us since we saved you from getting lynched and having your soul enslaved. Right?"


    The man introduced himself to us as Cornelius the Second, named after his Great Grandfather.


    To save the time, we rode back to the temple of St. Cornelius using Lily''s familiars from her cards. Lily and I mounted a massive direwolf. Asmod and Cornelius rode an equally massive toad.


    "My great grandfather left us because he wanted to ascend further, beyond the Soul Emperor stage. He left my father in charge of the village and the Temple. The village has been run by the past three generations of my family but my father had to go to the city for some work, so he left the village in my care. We were unaware of some villagers planning on a coup against my family. And well, you saw what led to in the graveyard."


    "They have some gall to rebel like that against someone as strong as your family," Lily said.


    "Actually, we aren''t what we used to be back in great grandfather''s time," Cornelius said.


    "How can that be?" Smokewell asked.


    We arrived at the temple and mounted off the familiars before Lily took them back into her cards. We made our way into the courtyard.


    "You see, my great grandfather was an ascetic. That means he never took a wife or had any children. My grandfather was an adopted child that he trained in the art of Solistism. It is the study of soul manipulation that my great grandfather developed. He just wanted a successor for our house. And he couldn''t break the sacred vows by marrying someone. Those vows are what allows my family to learn the art of Solistism," Cornelius said. "That''s why no other can learn it, unless they are formally adopted into the Cornelius family. But that''s also what makes the next generation weak. Since none of us is related to great grandfather, it takes us longer to adapt our body to the lessons of the art. If we were direct descendants, great grandfather''s blood essence would''ve been passed down the line, making us genetically more capable. But that''s not the case. And since we aren''t as learned in the art as him, we are unable to train the successors to perfection.¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Smokewell cocked her head. ¡°Based on that logic, the villagers probably targeted you because¨C¡±


    ¡°Because I am the weakest, yes.¡± Cornelius nodded with a grim look. ¡°The rebels were going to enslave my soul and use it as a leverage to extort power from my adopted father."


    "This coup was quite a bad omen for the future then," Asmod said. "It probably means there are going to be more like them to come."


    "I don''t think so." Cornelius shook his head. "The lady''s Abyssal servant flattened practically everyone. There might just be a handful of people left in the village now."


    We all paused. My chest tightened at the thought. "But, you are going to revive them, aren''t you?" I felt a mixture of apprehension as well as guilt.


    Cornelius didn''t answer for a long time. He just gestured us to follow him into the temple. The headless statute of his great grandfather stood by the far wall, a mural of a forest and mountains painted behind him. "The last time anyone ever saw Great Grandfather was three generations ago before he left the temple and the village in grandfather''s care," Cornelius said, "The saint never even returned to see us or see how we were doing. He let us take his name, he let us live in his house and run the village in his stead but he never even showed his face to the man he called his son. Is this what it means to be in a family?"


    None of my companions spoke. Lily''s face was somber, Smokewell''s face was unreadable, Asmod was watching the man with a gentle look. As far as I could remember of my old life, my parents never really cared what I did. My own father was drowning in booze every evening while mom left the house and returned at irregular times. No one asked her what she had done when she was out and she didn''t care to give any explanations either. There were occasional bouts of yelling and altercations that I could hear from my room. And the next morning the cycle would begin all over again. So I didn''t know what a family meant either.


    We stood in the awkward silence of the temple behind Cornelius, not knowing of how to reassure the man in front of us. That''s when Asmod spoke up, "You should leave."


    Cornelius looked down at the short man, incredulous. "B-But, I have a duty. The responsibility that the Saint gave us to keep furthering his family."


    Asmod gave a soft fatherly smile and shook his head. "That''s not what a family is supposed to be, I can tell you that much. It''s meant to be more than just a responsibility, more than just a duty and a title. It''s about trust and being there when you need each other. You don''t owe that statue anything, son. You should start over. Go somewhere you can rely on those around you."


    Cornelius looked uncertain. "B-But those people at the graveyard--"


    "The ones who were going to enslave your soul? What about them?" Lily said.


    Cornelius sank to his knees. "I-I don''t know...what I should do..." he said, voice trembling.


    "That uncertainty that you are feeling, that''s what freedom is," Asmod said, putting a hand on the man''s shoulder. "You suddenly realized that anything is possible and that you are allowed to be happy. That thought scares you. But it is also the best thing that can happen to you. You deserve it, son."


    Cornelius looked at the man with that same uncertain look, "R-Really?"


    This time, it was the rest of us that nodded in approval.


    Cornelius regained his composure and got back to his feet. "You wanted the Eyes of the saint, didn''t you? Come with me." He led us deeper into the temple.


    We followed the man down a series of hallways and up a single flight of stairs. He opened the door to a small room on the upper story. Inside the room was a single desk set upon a floor covered by red carpet. On the desk sat a small porcelain urn with floral pattern. He took the container and held it out towards us.


    "Oh," Smokewell said, "So the urn didn''t symbolize death. It was literally indicating towards another urn. I see. That''s not subtle at all."


    "I beg your pardon?" Cornelius said.


    ¡°Ignore her," I said, waving my hand dismissively and taking the urn from him. "So, are the Eyes inside this?"


    Cornelius nodded. "Great Grandfather burnt them and turned it to ash so its power could be preserved. His body wasn''t able to accommodate so much power at once, so he had to separate it from himself. That was the reason why he left the Temple. So he could strengthen himself enough to fuse the Eyes again at some point."


    Before any of us could say anything, a portal opened in the wall behind us. On the other side of the portal, the Malcolms'' basement was visible. I checked my hexonomicon. Time left before the door closed was just ten minutes.


    "Seems like it is time for us to leave," Smokewell said.


    "Wait," Asmod said and turned to Cornelius. "You said the Saint is going to return once he gets strong enough to take his Eyes back. If you give these to us¨C"


    Cornelius smiled, "Don''t worry, I won''t be here to face the music."


    Asmod returned his smile. "Be sure to keep yourself safe then."


    The man nodded. "Thanks for encouraging me. I''m going to do what you told me. Freedom feels daunting. But it feels worth it."


    "We wish you the best of luck then," Smokewell said, "And if fate is kind enough, maybe we''ll meet again."


    "I hope it is," Cornelius said.


    We turned to enter the portal. Smokewell went in first. Asmod went next. I followed after him. Lily was about to come in after me when she stopped and turned to look at Cornelius. "Wait, I wanted to ask, are the Eyes of Cornelius his actual eyes or is that a code for something else?" she said.


    Cornelius chuckled before saying, "Those aren''t his actual eyes. The urn contains great grandfather''s testicles."

 9. The Skeleton Crew

    The portal closed behind us. We were in the Malcolms'' basement again. The two angels walked up to us. Anisa was clapping her hands. "That was wonderful," she said, eyeing up the urn in my hand.


    I grimaced when I thought of the contents inside. I shoved it into her hands. "There, keep your precious ''Eyes¡¯. Who even calls their testicles that?!"


    "Actually that''s because--"


    I raised a hand. "No thanks, I''m not curious," I said.


    Lily began to say something but I cut her off with a wide eyed glare.


    "No...we aren''t curious," she said gingerly.


    Roderick grinned down at Smokewell, "So, we were right. You were perfect for the job afterall."


    "We are perfect any day of the week, Roderick," Smokewell said. "But just because my pupils were stupid enough to get drawn into your silly contract, doesn''t mean we are going to do this again. Now be a good boy and unmark their halos."


    Roderick gave his usual playful grin and manifested the contract out thin air. He put a check mark over Lily and my names with a quill. Our bloodstains from the contract disappeared. "And done," he said.


    I looked over at Lily''s halo. The mark of sin was gone and the ring was its previous clear green. She nodded at me, indicating that I was also in the clear. I turned back to the angels. "I guess that concludes it," I said, "Would I do this again? Nope."


    The angels had Josie drive us back to Asmod''s place. Lily collapsed on the small couch in the living room and blew a sigh at the roof. Smokewell hopped upon the windowsill and peered out at the city. I came in, carrying the bundle of our little loot from heaven and set it down on the floor before getting on the couch next to Lily.


    Asmod poured us all another round of ginger ale.


    For a moment, no one said anything as we all sipped on our drinks. That''s when Lily''s stomach growled. The girl blushed. "Excuse me," she said shyly.


    I glanced at the clock on the wall, it was half past two in the morning. "I won''t lie, I can relate to Lily''s state of hunger," I said.


    That''s when Asmod''s stomach growled as well. "Seems like I caught your disease." He chuckled.


    "It was quite the adventure we had," Smokewell said, "One''s bound to get hungry after all that. I hope you are also in the mood to cook."


    "No, we don''t need to," Asmod said with a smile. "I know a place that serves a good meal." He grabbed his coat once again.


    "At two in the morning?" Lily said.


    "Yes, they are not too big on sleeping." The short man winked and gestured us to follow. He turned to me before walking out the door, "Grimly, make sure to grab one of the bones from your bundle. We''ll have it appraised while we eat."


    I nodded and took a small cylindrical digit from the pile of golden bones from the bundle, it was probably a part of a finger. I slipped it into my waistcoat. We left the apartment.


    ****


    Asmod drove us in his steam carriage. The streets of the Orowen city were deserted this late into the night. Lily and I were in the back while Smokewell sat in the front in what would''ve been the shotgun seat in a regular automobile. I ducked my head out of the carriage and felt the wind in my face, felt its cool fingers running through my hair. Then I felt a smile curl my lips.


    These past twenty four hours had been the weirdest of my life, yet they felt like what I always thought life was supposed to feel like. I could remember psychedelic dreams and absurd hallucinations draped in crystal fog and smoky euphoria from my past life. Yet everything seemed to pale in comparison with what I''d seen and felt in the last few hours.


    I watched the buildings passing by, watched the moonlight smiling upon its concrete flesh as steam pumped through the heart and veins of the city. This was it. This was real life. This was where I somehow ended up after living through hell. But after seeing and hearing and feeling this world, I didn''t want to be anywhere else.


    The carriage came to a halt outside a cloth store that was closed for business for the night. The shutters were down and the lights were out. Asmod simply parked his vehicle outside and led us into a dark alley in the back. A rusty metal was fixed into the dark wall deep in the alley. He opened it and walked in. We followed him down a stairway where the air smelled damp and our footsteps echoed louder as we descended further.


    We came to a halt at another door at the end of the stairway. Asmod lifted his hand and knocked on the door in a certain rhythm. A voice answered from the other end. "Faeries don''t cry when you punch them."


    Asmod scoffed. "Forget about the damn password, Grendel. It''s me and I''m starving. Open the door!"


    There was a groan from the other side before the door opened and light poured out into the stairway. "How is it going, Asmod?" the guy at the door said as we passed through.


    "About as good as it was. How are your kids, Grendel?" Asmod nodded.


    "They¡¯re a pain in the neck," Grendel said.


    I noticed that Grendel didn''t have any hair or eyes or lips. He wore a dark leather jacket and his bony neck and cranium stuck out like a skull on a bare spine--which is what it literally was.


    Grendel was a talking skeleton. Or if I wasn''t wrong, the more accurate word was a ''lich.''


    Past the door that Grendel guarded was a cobble stone pathway that lead up to a double story structure. The front of it was made of brick and mortar alit with a light that seemed to just hover in the air, shining in from nowhere. I guessed it was something similar to the enchanted magic that Asmod did with his inks and brushes, but in this case, the entire air had an enchanted feel to it.


    The building was painted black and red and neon green letters hung atop the entrance that read: THE SKELETON CREW.


    The first thing that I noticed before entering was the music they played in the joint. It was a weird mix between swing and pop, with a lot of drums, trumpets and something akin to synth? Somehow it all went together like a good cocktail. And even though it was close to three in the morning, the tables were all nearly taken, the booths were pretty much full. The attendants were all liches, carrying orders, clearing tables and also the band that played at the centre of the big circular dining area.


    "A place like this exists?!" Lily blurted out, gawking at the view in front of her.


    Asmod chuckled. "It sure does. In fact, this place has existed before Orowen even got its name."


    "Why didn''t we ever come here?" Lily said to Smokewell. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Cuz we were broke most of the time," the cat said, rolling her eyes.


    "I don''t mind seeing this place now that we are here," I said with the smile still firmly planted on my lips.


    The ma?tre d''h?tel was also a lich dressed in a sharp looking tuxedo and a starry bow tie. "A table for four, I presume," he said.


    Asmod nodded. "Yes, and thanks, Krec."


    "It''s been a while, Asmod. But it''s nice to see you and your friends," the lich named Krec said as he led us up a spiral staircase and to a much quieter and more premium looking dining area.


    "I''ve been busy with some business, Krec," Asmod said as we settled into a booth by the window.


    Krec summoned menu cards out of thin air and laid them in front of us. Jugs of water were manifested in a similar fashion and our glasses were filled with Krec barely lifting a finger. He summoned a metal dish filled with water especially for Smokwell. I took a sip from my glass and looked out the window. I almost spat my water when I saw the dark city of Orowen sprawling below us. "Aren''t we technically below the city right now?" I said. ¡°Yet I can see the city outside.¡±


    "It''s our optical illusion array, ma''am," Krec said. "If you don''t like the view, we can change it to tropical grassland, coastal evening or the tundra havens." He shifted the view outside the window through different settings.


    Lily''s eyes glinted excitedly as she took in the view. "Can we customize the setting?" she asked.


    "Certainly, ma''am."


    "I want sand dunes in the background!"


    "And in the foreground?"


    "Tundra."


    "Any props or characters?"


    "An apple orchard. And a wyvern by a lava lake!"


    "There you go, ma''am."


    "WOW!" Lily pressed her face into the window and gaped with wide eyes of a child.


    Smokewell held back a groan as she watched Lily. We placed our orders and leaned back in our seats, looking out at the strange view. "This isn''t going to cost you too much, is it, Asmod?" Smokewell said.


    "Don''t worry. The owner of this place, Zir''zulec and I go way back." Asmod said, waving his hand. "I probably won''t even have to pay for the meal."


    I dug deep into Old Elsa''s memories. I couldn''t find anything specific about Asmod so I set my glass down and leaned ahead. "You have me curious now," I said, "Exactly how old are you, Asmod? You knew the angels and now this lich guy."


    The short man gave a humble smile but remained quiet.


    "Also, don''t forget Madam Smokewell," Lily said, "Mr. Asmod is full of surprises."


    "Girls, it''s not very mature to pry into other people''s personal lives," Smokewell said curtly.


    "Oh give it a rest, Alana." Asmod winced. "They are still young. They are supposed to be curious." The man rested his elbows on the table and looked out the window. "It''s true, though. I know some interesting people. Not because I''m an ancient being or anything, I''m barely two hundred." He scoffed. "It''s just that I don''t have many qualms against whom I work with or help out. Witches, liches, angels, golems, trolls, humans. I''ll shake hands with anyone and everyone as long as it doesn''t involve hurting someone innocent. Especially in times like these when the Steam Elemental claims ownership over so many institutions of magic." He looked at every face at the table. "It only makes sense that those like us overcome any personal feuds and work together. It''s our independence that''s at stake after all."


    As a comfortable and meaningful silence descended over the table, the waiter arrived and poured us all a glass of merlot. "I hope you are having a wonderful time," he said. We all gave a gracious nod and he left us with the bottle, his skull face, forever smiling.


    Our food arrived soon after. We started with an oxtail soup, followed by the main course. I had a duck confit while Lily had braised beef. We got Smokewell some boiled salmon and Asmod had a risotto with wild mushrooms. The dessert was lemon tart. Then the waiter poured us all another round of merlot. "I hope you enjoyed your meal," he said, "Shall I bring the bill?"


    "Not yet." Asmod gestured the lich to lean closer and whispered something we couldn''t quite hear.


    The waiter nodded and left us as we sipped our wine. It was the ma?tre d''h?tel, Krec, who came up next and clasped his bony hands together. "The Director would see you now, my dear guests."


    "Can I get a light?" Smokewell said, holding up her ivory pipe.


    "Certainly." Krec dipped a bony finger into the well of the pipe and set the tobacco aflame.


    We followed him out of the dining area and up a flight of stairs beyond a door that read: RESTRICTED ENTRY.


    Past the door was a hallway with shiny linoleum floor that led up to another door that read: DIRECTOR''S OFFICE.


    And in parentheses below it read: (ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE.)


    Krec held the door open for us. We walked inside and he walked away.


    The inside of the office was a lot larger than expected. A pool table sat on the right, a piano on the left, a small dining table at the centre and a long executive desk at the very back against a rippled glass wall, looking over the big room. The director Zir''Zulec was about to take a shot with his obsidian pool cue. He was wearing a long velvet robe, cotton pajamas and fluffy bunny slippers.


    He probably missed his shot since he rose from his hunched over position, beating a fist over the table. "Dang it, I missed it again!"


    "You''ll get it next time, boss," said another lich, probably a subordinate.


    ¡°Yes, you can have my turn, instead, boss,¡± said another subordinate standing on the opposite end of the table.


    "Stop consoling me, you fools! You are supposed to let me win!"


    "Forget it, Zir. You underlings are trying their best to play worse than you. Just admit that you are terrible at the game."


    The lich in velvet robe paused and raised his head from the pool table. That''s when we got to see just how big Zir''Zulec really was. This guy towered over everyone in the room by several feet. Him and Asmod facing each other was like a lawn gnome looking up at the Statue of Liberty.


    "You wound me with your words, Asmod," Zir said, "You stop by at my humble establishment just to remind me that you are capable of hurting my ego."


    "Stop being a big baby, Zir." Asmod chuckled. "And as much as I love to hurt your ego, today I''m here to introduce you to my friends."


    He gestured at us. I was certainly intimidated when Zir''s hollow eye sockets set their empty gaze upon us. With his skull face turned into a forever-grin, he was a lot more unreadable than Smokewell.


    "Are you like...seven feet?" Lily asked, awed and terrified.


    "No, I only have two feet, can''t you see?" Zir said.


    "Oh no, not now." Asmod shook his head, exasperated, "I''d rather watch you suck at billiards than let you make a joke. Don''t get started now." He turned to me and said, "Grimly, show him that little souvenir "


    I nodded and pulled out the section of the golden finger bone and handed it to Zir''Zulec.


    The lich examined it closely. For a second, I almost expected him to bite into the piece. But instead he just shrugged and looked at Asmod, ¡°It does seem like gold,¡± he said, ¡°Why are you showing me this? Is this a gift?¡±


    ¡°We want to know if it''s actually gold. And if yes, how much can we earn from it?¡± Asmod said.


    ¡°Hm, let''s see for ourselves then.¡± Zir manifested a golden coin out of thin air and dropped it on the floor with the piece of gold. With a snap of his bony fingers, he made a magic circle appear around the coin and our piece. ¡°This is called the scorch test,¡± he said and waved his hand over the magic circle. Both of the objects within the circle caught fire. ¡°The truth flame will burn both the objects and leave a mark on their surface. The coin is pure 22 karat gold. If the color of the mark left on the piece you gave me resembles the one on the coin, then the gold you showed is legitimate. If it''s not the same color, then you are trying to fool me.¡±


    Zir kept gazing into the flame with his hollow eyes. So did the rest of us. The flame was orange in the beginning before turning green. The magic circle started to burn too until it turned to ash. Then the fire went out.


    The lich picked up both the pieces of gold. His coin was scorched green. And our piece of gold was marked purple.


    My jaw went slack.


    ¡°This is bogus!¡± Lily cried out, pouting at Smokewell. ¡°That coin omen was never the money that we were going to make. We are just going to be poor after all.¡± She huffed, frustrated.


    ¡°No, I would take back that last statement if I were you, child,¡± Zir''Zulec said.


    ¡°What does that purple mark mean?¡± Asmod asked.


    The lich looked down at us. ¡°Did you know the scorch test is for testing the objective truth?¡± he said. ¡°Any inanimate object that¡¯s from the mortal realm and is not an imitation is going to be scorched green. Any kind of imitation will be scorched white. But anything that belongs to an immortal realm is going to be scorched purple.¡± He held up the piece of gold we had given him. ¡°I don¡¯t think this thing is gold, but it probably costs more than the purest gold from this realm.¡±

 10. So, are we rich now?

    "Okay," Smokewell said, "Let''s talk in a language that I understand. Tell us how many steambolts will you give for that piece of gold."


    Zir''Zulec tapped his chin with a bony finger. "If I was to buy this from you, I''d offer to buy this for ten thousand steambolts without hesitation."


    For the first time, Smokewell''s expression was something I could read by looking--she was shocked. Lily hopped up in joy. "Yay, we are rich! How about you rattle some coins for us now, Mr. Big Money Lich?"


    "Certainly," Zir said and raised his hand as if to summon the money out of thin air but Asmod sprang up to snatch the piece of gold from him.


    "Later, Zir," he said.


    The lich stared down at the short man. "I thought you wanted to sell it."


    "We do, but not yet," Asmod said, tossing the piece of golden finger back at me.


    "Why not?" Lily said, her shoulders slouching.


    Asmod didn''t answer her, he just turned to leave after saying to Zir, "We''ll meet again, old friend. We might have some business to do then."


    Smokewell, Lily and I followed him out of the big office and out into the dining hall again.


    "What was that, Asmod?" Lily put her hands on her hips and knit her eyebrows.


    "Yes, what was that?" Smokewell said, "I thought I was finally going to see some good money."


    Asmod scoffed as he led us out of the restaurant and back to the surface. "Trust me, this isn''t how you want to make your money," he said as we all got into his steam carriage and headed back to his place.


    "Is this about ethics and morals, Asmod?" Smokewell said we entered his apartment. "Are you mad that we are making money off of some immortal man''s bones. Well, that''s still not the worse way of making money, you know?"


    Asmod shook his head. "Ethics and morals have nothing to do with this." He pulled up a chair over to the coffee table and gestured us all to huddle around it. He tossed the piece of gold onto the table and said, "Didn''t you hear what Zir said? That thing is not from this world. You and I know that it isn''t from this world. It''s not gold but it costs a lot more than gold. And Zir didn''t have any problem paying thousands for this little pinkie sized thing. What does it all mean?" He threw a gaze at each of our faces.


    "I''m sorry, does it not mean that we get rich?" Lily said.


    "Yes, you get rich. But at a much higher cost than you get paid," Asmod said and leaned further. "If this thing is so potent and valuable, don''t you think it will have people come sniffing for more? All magic leaves behind a trace in some way. If Zir or anyone else uses this thing in something, it is going to leave a trail. Someone will come following that trail. Where is it supposed to lead them?"


    "To us," I said.


    "And you have an entire skeleton made of this thing. What will that lead to?" Asmod said.


    "Whoever comes looking for more will try to take it, possibly by force," Smokewell said slowly.


    "That''s just the appetizer, I''ll serve you the dessert right away," Asmod said, "Imagine its the Inquisition who gets a whiff of this thing''s existence. They''ll come looking for it and find that the skeleton is in the possession of a bunch of witches."


    "Wait, so we aren''t going to be getting rich?" Lily asked.


    Asmod sighed. "You will. I mean you can if you are clever about it. There are hundreds of ways in which you can get caught with this. But there might just be one to actually get away with getting rich quick."


    "Which is?" Smokewell asked.


    Asmod paused and regarded us all with caution before saying, "You should think of getting your name cleared from the Inquisition''s priority burn list."


    Smokewell burst out laughing, rolling around on the couch. "I knew you were a great enchanter but I didn''t know you were just as good at being a jester."


    Asmod wasn''t amused. "Really, Alana?"


    The cat stopped laughing to catch her breath. "Yes, I''m serious. Look at me, Asmod. And I mean take a long, good look at me. I became a cat. I used to be the great Alana Smokewell, aging like fine wine--"


    "Not really," Lily quickly added. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "And I became a cat. A damn cat, Asmod. Why do you think I did it?" Smokewell said.


    "Because you like back rubs?" Lily said.


    "You like to sleep all day?" Asmod said.


    "No, you fools! It''s because it was getting dangerous to live as Alana Smokewell," the cat snapped. "And it wasn''t just me but it was the girls I was putting in danger." She pointed a paw at us. "They would''ve been burned by the Inquisition just because they were my apprentices. I would like to believe that I managed to throw them off our trail by killing my human body. But I wouldn''t be surprised if the witch hunt is still going on for the girls. Do you think the Inquisition will just clear our names like that?"


    "Um, there''s a way to clear our name," Lily said, nervously rubbing the back of her neck. "What if we just...come in peace and sign the Regulated Practices Agreement?"


    "No," Smokewell said in a heartbeat. "A thousand times no."


    "But--"


    "I said no!" Smokewell snapped.


    Lily went silent. Old Elsa''s memories told me about the Regulated Practices Agreement. Apparently, the government hadn''t completely banned the practice of dark magic. The Agreement was their way of keeping magic users like us in check--which involved placing restrictions on how we practiced our magic. I had a hazy recollection of some witchcraft covens signing the Agreement rather than risk getting burned.


    "Is it really a good idea?" I asked carefully. "We are always on the run. And if we want to buy a house, we would have to forge new identities. We sure aren''t going to be able to sign our real names anywhere."


    The cat''s pupils dilated and her back arched. "No, student of mine is going to be a dog on the government''s leash," she said.


    I went quiet.


    Asmod let out a sigh and stood up. "If that isn''t an option for you then the second option is you do what Elsa suggested, you forge new identities for yourself and keep living with your heads down."


    "I''ll take it," Smokewell said, licking her paw.


    Lily''s body turned stiff, she gripped her skirt as she kept frowning at the floor. "Wouldn''t that mean, we''ll all retire from...practicing witchcraft?" she said in a small voice.


    "Would you rather get burned, Lily?" Smokewell said.


    "I''d rather be a dog on the government''s leash!" Lily snapped.


    The cat stared at the girl silently. This time Lily held her gaze without flinching. Even that wasn''t enough for the girl since she decided to speak up. "You said, you were only giving up the title of a witch, not its practices or spirit. How can you just be ready to ''keep your head down'' and forget it?"


    The cat''s mouth opened. She seemed ready to say something that would''ve hurt Lily a lot more, so I decided to butt into the conversation. "Stop before this becomes a full blown argument," I said, "I get it, we don''t want to stop being witches, we also want to be rich and we don''t want to get burned just for existing. For that, there''s a third, more dangerous option we can take."


    "Well?" Smokewell said, "If we are going to sit and discuss all the worst ideas, might as well hear you out as well."


    I took a deep breath and started talking.


    When I was done, everyone stared at me with wide eyes, pale faces and mouths hanging open.


    "Why?" Asmod said. "Do you have a death wish, Grimly?"


    "No, quite the opposite, in fact." I grinned.


    "But it still sounds dangerous, Miss Elsa," Lily said. "And I mean, we aren''t even sure if it will work. And if we fail, we''ll all probably die."


    "Let''s do it," Smokewell said.


    Asmod and Lily gawked at the cat. "You''ve lost your mind too!" the man said.


    "I''ll give Elsa''s plan a try before even considering to sign that damn Agreement," the cat said.


    "So it''s settled then," I said stretched my back and looked out the window. The sun was slowly rising above the clouds. "We''ll need to do some digging before we put the plan into action. But before that, I''m gonna get some much needed sleep," I said and went to get one of the spare mattresses from Asmod''s bedroom.


    I slept like a baby till the afternoon.


    And when I woke up, my head wasn''t spinning, nor was it heavy--something that I always felt when I slept (which wasn''t very often) and woke up in my previous life. I sat up in the spare mattress I''d rolled up the floor and stretched my back. I looked out the window. The sun was bright in the sky. The clock said it was quarter past two in the afternoon. Lily and Smokewell were still asleep on the mattress next to mine. Asmod was probably downstairs in his shop. This was my chance.


    I didn''t bother brushing my teeth. I simply grabbed my suitcase and carried it into the empty bedroom and locked the door. The events of last night''s dinner and everything that happened flashed into my mind. The things that had happened before that dinner came to my mind. I remembered what I''d felt while riding the steam carriage through the empty streets of Orowen at night.


    I knew I didn''t want to go back to the world that I had memories of living in. I also knew that it meant I was going to live in a world where the Inquisition existed and I had to be careful to not get caught and burned on a stake. But I also possessed magical powers in this world, for God''s sake! I''d seen what heaven was like and summoned a giant ethereal being that spoke to me like a humble servant (he''d also gone on to flatten about fifty people at once cuz he misheard my command, but that was a different matter.)


    But that was the thing. I had the power to survive and change things for myself in this world. And with that golden skeleton that we''d retrieved, I was probably going to end up living a comfortable life if I played my cards right. I couldn''t have had this chance in my previous life. So the fact that I wanted to be here and live a good life was clear as day to me.


    But that meant, I had to become Elsa Grimly to live the life that was practically hers. I also felt like I owed it to her since she was the one who had committed the liberation ritual, which had somehow allowed me to end up as her (and also allowed me to summon that Abyssal form named Yazara En). It would''ve been a waste if I decided to give up all these oppportunities.


    Yes, I wanted to be here and live as Elsa Grimly. But for that, I''d first have to figure out who she was. Which meant uncovering as many of her memories as I could.


    So I started to unpack her belongings.

 11. From Elsa to Elsa

    After all that had happened in the past two days, I had more or less figured out how my brain worked. Old Elsa''s memories were all stored inside my brain and there were three ways to access them. One, either I saw things and let relevant memories get triggered on their own. Two, I looked at something and deliberately tried to recollect those memories myself. The third way was a bit vague and worked like an autopilot function. It was how I had managed to weaponize Yazara''s Abyssal form at the graveyard.


    The first two ways of retrieving information weren''t all that bad. The third way was almost a gamble to rely upon. It had worked in the graveyard. But I wouldn''t expect it to work so well again.


    The bottomline was: my memories were still hazy. I had to dig as much vital information I could in order to fully become Elsa Grimly.


    And so I took all of her belongings from her pack and laid them out on the bed in front of me. I had to familiarize myself with all of it in order to understand who she was, what she had collected and what all this stuff meant to her and if it meant anything at all.


    First I dug into her clothes. She had four blouses, six skirts, three pairs of trousers, three waistcoats, two sweaters and a long coat. The colors of all the clothes ranged from black, grey to dark blue. I learnt that colors were dull because I liked to be unnoticeable. I remembered moments of paranoia when I felt like I was being watched and pursued. I also had a vague memory of almost getting caught. That was what had made me want to make my wardrobe understated in order to blend into the shadows and at times, get lost in the crowds.


    I put the clothes aside and looked at a small handbag thingy that had been in my suitcase. It was made of leather, had a thin drawstring and a bronze clasp to hold it closed. This was supposed to be a reticule. I knew that word when I held it up and examined it. I opened it to find something that surprised me a bit. There was a hairbrush, a bottle of rose water, a box of cold cream, a small handheld mirror and a vial of perfume. I scoffed at the assortment of belongings. I realized that I was into looking pretty even though I dressed to remain inconspicuous.


    I remembered the reaction I''d had the first time I''d seen myself in the mirror. I would''ve been obnoxiously humble or just straight up lying if I said I wasn''t pretty. Well, now I knew the secret of my beauty.


    But looking at the things I remembered something else. The cold cream had been a gift from Madam Smokewell. I even remembered her telling me that this was a home made formula that had let her age so gracefully. I''d used up half of the cream. So it was probably true. The next thing I remembered was that the perfume was a gift from Lily.


    I took a whiff of it. The fragrance was rather mild and smelled of lavender and a dash of lemons. It was an oddly refreshing scent. I dabbed some on my neck because I really liked it before slipping the bottle into my pocket.


    Next I opened my coin purse. There wasn''t much inside. There were two steambolt coins and ten firebolt coins. I remembered that one steambolt was worth one hundred firebolts. Conclusion: I was still poor¨Ceven though that wasn''t going to be for long. Without dwelling on either of those thoughts any further I closed the purse and put it aside.


    It was time to go through my witchcraft gear next. The good stuff. I had my knife, my broom, my hexonomicon and another notebook. There was also a box of miscellaneous things that were probably ingredients for brewing potions and performing other rituals. This didn''t trigger any specific memories so I put it aside and focused on the other items.


    I knew the purpose of the broom and the knife. The former was for cleansing the ritual area and if I got better at witchcraft someday, I would be able to fly it. The latter was for carving out ritual patterns and also stabbing someone to death.


    The hexonomicon was the book of curses. Witchcraft had several schools of practices within itself. One such school was the school of curses. The one that Smokewell practiced and had trained us in.


    Flipping through the pages of the hexonimicon, I gleaned that there were dozens of different ways to apply curses. As I skimmed over the ritual processes and incantations, I found them all familiar. But I knew I would have to perform them all at some point to really absorb them right. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    I would probably get in some kind of trouble someday that won''t leave me enough time to look into my hexonomicon or dig into Old Elsa''s memories. I kept turning the pages, looking for a specific ritual. But I was surprised at what I found.


    Liberation Ritual


    It was just a heading on a blank page. There was no description. No procedure. No apparatus. No inference or notes listed down.


    I looked at the pentacle tattoo on my palm. Then I looked at the empty page. I remembered something. The act of writing or drawing things is an important aspect of witchcraft. It is one of the key aspects of adding strength to a ritual.


    Thinking of this information reminded me of something else. The second notebook. I put the hexonomicon aside and grabbed the second notebook. This was Old Elsa''s journal. This is where she had written her personal notes on curses and her studies.


    Her memories told me there was a specific entry that I had to see. I flipped to the very last page. And I finally found what I was looking for. An entry from two days ago. Right before I woke up as Elsa. I started reading.


    If you found this page in my journal it means one of three things. You are either someone who happened upon my belongings and you are snooping around. Or you are one of the witch hunters from the Inquisition who killed me and my friends and are pawing through my things. Or the third alternative, the ritual was a success and you woke up as me.


    If it is the last case, which I hope it really is, first of all, congratulations! You now own my talents at witchcraft and also my infamy. I would also like to apologize for the fact that you are probably on the run to save your own life now.


    I know living like this is rather hard. But I left behind a little gift that just might make things easier for you.


    That gift is called the ¡®liberation ritual¡¯. I''m in a hurry so I''ll keep this explanation brief.


    That little mark on your palm. Yes, that is the sign of the ritual. You must''ve figured out by now that when a ritual is written or drawn, the chances of that ritual failing are significantly decreased. Well, there''s an even more effective way of carrying out a ritual.


    That is by embedding that ritual onto yourself. And that''s why I carved the pentacle on my palm.


    But that''s not it. The reason for making that ritual sign on my skin isn''t all about giving the next possessor of my body an easy access to a powerful magic. But also to keep you in check.


    There are certain conditions that I had to set for myself in order to make my body capable of performing an effective liberation.


    The first condition is: whoever inherits my body can''t hurt those that I consider my friends. This mainly involves Lilian and Madam Smokewell.


    The second condition is: the liberation ritual can only utilize an Abyssal being for one job. The Abyssal beings can''t be kept as servants once they''ve finished their job.


    The third and final condition is: if you try to abandon Lilian and Madam, another soul will inherit my body and yours will be damned into purgatory.


    If that sounds harsh, then that''s because it is meant to be. Liberation ritual is a potent weapon. I wouldn''t hand it over to someone who would just exploit its powers for their own gain.


    That''s all that I had to say. I''ve explained further details of the ritual in my journal. I hope you''ll find them useful.


    Whoever it is that has inherited my identity, I hope you live the kind of life that I never could.


    Signing off now,


    Elsa Grimly.


    I went through the rest of the journal and read through Elsa''s notes on the liberation ritual as closely as I could. When I put the notebook down, my head seemed to be slightly heavy with information. I let out a long tired breath before packing all my belongings and carrying the suitcase out again.


    I''d spent an hour and a half familiarizing myself with all the things that Elsa owned. But what I had learnt wasn''t nearly enough. You can only learn so much about someone from what they owned.


    I stepped out into the living room. Lily and Smokewell were still asleep. I watched them quietly as another thought dawned on me. Old Elsa really valued these two. She had safely kept the little gifts that they had given her. And the main conditions of the liberation ritual all revolved around these two people.


    I realized something else. Old Elsa had killed herself right before the Inquisition was about to raid our house. Every ritual needed a little offering in order to charge it. And since liberation ritual was so powerful that''s why it needed a live soul as an offering. So Old Elsa had given up her own. Whoever would inherit her identity would be able to use the powers of the ritual but they couldn''t hurt Lily and Smokewell nor could they abandon them.


    "Elsa," I whispered, "you were looking out for them¡­till the moment you died. Even after you died."

 12. You are what you own

    Without waking up either Lily or Smokewell, I went downstairs to Asmod''s shop. It was empty as always. And the owner was nowhere to be seen. Once again, I was mesmerized by the deceptive greeting cards on the shelves.


    "Did you want something, Grimly?" he said.


    I jumped as I heard the voice. I looked behind and he was by the same door that he had stepped out of to sneak up on me just like the first time I''d come here. "Yes, I wanted your help with something," I said, taking a breath to calm myself.


    "What is this about?" he asked.


    "Let''s go into that room in the back first." I pointed at the door behind him.


    He gave me a curious look before pushing the door and holding it open for me.


    "So, you remember how I uh, helped out when the Cornelius guy was about to get lynched?" I said a bit nervously.


    Asmod was quiet for a moment before saying, "How could I forget? I''d never seen something like that before."


    Yeah, me neither. "Well, it was something that I''d been practicing for some time. I thought it was a good opportunity to test it out."


    "Oh, I see."


    "Yeah. I''m still unsure about the limit of that particular ritual," I said, "So I was wondering if you''d be interested in helping me test it out?"


    "I''d be happy to," he said, "just don''t flatten this place, please?"


    I gave a nervous chuckle. "Oh no, I didn''t have anything as drastic as the last time in mind." We arrived at an empty spot in the dim workshop. "I actually needed your permission with something."


    "Oh?"


    I nodded and pulled out the urn that contained his mother''s ash.


    "Hey, no! Not that again!" he jumped up, trying to snatch it out of my hand but fell short.


    "I''m not going to disturb this. There will be barely any scratch on it, I swear."


    "Why can''t you just leave my dead mother alone?" Asmod said in an almost whiny voice.


    "Asmod, you saw the skeleton that we brought back. It''s exactly how it was when we first found it. This will be the same. Just let me use it one time."


    The enchanter stepped back with a wary look on his face. "Tell me what exactly you want to do with it?" he asked.


    I knew he would ask this question. I had my explanation ready. "The ritual derives power from the remains of people. I want to draw power from the ash," I said.


    The wary look hadn''t left his face. "That doesn''t sound very good."


    "It''s one hundred percent harmless to the ashes and the urn, I promise," I said.


    "And what about my mother''s spirit?" he crossed his arms.


    "Your mother''s spirit is at rest, Asmod," I said, "the ritual won''t go anywhere near that. I''m only going to draw the power from what''s left."


    Asmod still didn''t seem reassured. "Let me ask you a question," I said, "if there is anything left of your mother''s spirit in the ash, do you want it to stay or do you want it to be set free?"


    "That''s the whole point of preserving her ashes," Asmod said, "So that I can have a part of her with me even when she is gone. I''m afraid, this isn''t something I can help you with, Grimly."


    I paused. "Wait, what did you say?"


    "I''m afraid I can''t help you--"


    "No, having a part of her with you...even when she is gone," I said. I handed the urn back to him. "Thanks for your help, Asmod! I know what to do now!"


    ****


    I remembered Yazara En''s grave in heaven. The skeleton wasn''t a corpse. It was an impurity. Mortal remains. A part of him.


    Old Elsa''s journal stated that the liberation ritual drew power from a part of the person who carried out the ritual and a part of the person whose remains would be at the centre of the pentacle.


    The remains don''t have to be actual remains. They could be something that people owned and left behind. I rushed upstairs to the apartment again.


    I dug into my suitcase, pulled out my coin purse and went back downstairs. I had a theory that I wanted to test out.


    ****


    "Something old and useless?" the pawnshop owner asked. He was a balding man in his mid 40''s with a thin moustache and a long chin.


    "Yes, something that someone sold to you or didn''t redeem and now it is sitting on these shelves gathering dust," I said leaning over the counter and waving my hand over all the stuff that was on display on the shelves behind him. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    "Hm." The man scratched his chin as he looked back at the items on display. "Most of the items that haven''t been redeemed by the owners usually get auctioned off and auctions happen on weekends. However, I can sell you that shiny saber that was used by one of the Ravenwind navy commanders in a war against the invaders." He pointed at the blade hung on the wall. The edge was shiny and had gone blunt from lack of proper care. Also the tag on it read: 400 steambolts.


    The story that he was associating with that sword started to sound fake when I looked at the price.


    "I want something cheaper than that," I said.


    "How about this dagger that Queen Minerva used to kill the king before running off with her lover? It only costs 350 steambolts."


    "Cheaper."


    "How about King Alain''s pocket watch--"


    "Cheaper."


    "How about the pirate chief Marwood Newbury''s spitoon--"


    "Cheaper!"


    The owner gave me a deadpan stare before resting his elbows on the counter. "Okay, how about you tell me how much your budget is so I can show you something that fits the price?"


    I gingerly looked down at the purse in my hand. Then I looked up at the man. "How about something around one steambolt?"


    The owner''s deadpan look didn''t change. He reached under the counter and pulled out a small compact mirror. "Just an ordinary mirror that a man came to pawn and never redeemed. It belongs to his late grandmother. She was no one famous. The only price of the mirror comes from the silver plating on it. I can sell this for a steambolt."


    I examined the mirror. Its wooden surface was faded and had silver leaves set into it. The bottom of the mirror had a name--Amelia Doyle. This seemed perfect. Something that someone ordinary owned. I still had no way of confirming if the mirror was precious to the woman who owned it. But beggars can''t be choosers.


    I paid a single steambolt for it and left the pawnshop.


    According to Elsa''s notes, a soul has two parts, the Abyss and the Core. The latter holds the essence of a person. It is where their personality comes from and it is the thing that fuels life into the soul--the so-called ''spirit'' of a person. The former can be considered the dead skin of a soul. It is what a person leaves behind with their mortal remains, whether after death or through some kind of technique like how Yazara had done.


    My theory was that abyss can be found in something other than people''s skeletons and ashes and corpses. If I could trigger Elsa''s memories by examining her personal effects, then it might be possible to extract an abyss or at least a part of that abyss from the belongings that dead people left behind. Old Elsa hadn''t specified this in her notes. But then again, maybe she was in a hurry and only focused on the basics before killing herself. She had to get her soul replaced before the Inquisition could get them afterall.


    I made my way back to Asmod''s nook and asked him to let me into his workshop again. "Don''t worry, I won''t be touching your mother''s urn. Though, I still want to test out my ritual," I said.


    The enchanter sighed and opened that invisible door in the wall for me. I arrived at an empty spot inside. I pulled out my knife and carved a pentacle on the floor with an eye at the center. Next I pulled out the compact mirror.


    I felt a bit uncertain as I looked down at the item. I''d heard Yazara''s voice in my head which had led me to his grave. There had been no such voices this time. But there was also the possibility that those things happened because I was in the immortal realm, and Yazara wasn''t even a mortal at all. That might also explain why the abyssal being that I summoned was a giant and so powerful.


    "This is just some old lady''s mirror," I muttered to myself, "I shouldn''t be expecting much."


    But a part of me hoped that I was right and I could extract an abyss from this thing. "I''d put one whole steambolt in it after all."


    I shook my head and took a deep breath. I placed the mirror on the eye inside the pentacle. Then I sliced my tattooed palm and dripped the blood onto the ritual pattern on the ground.


    The air grew cold, my head grew heavy. Then a black mist whirled in the air in front of me. I felt a presence--as if someone had just entered the room--then a voice whispered in my head: "How did you find me?"


    I frowned. I was half-pleased that my theory had been correct--an abyssal being could be summoned from a personal belonging. But I was also half-disappointed since this was just a shapeless mist and not even the silhouette of a person--this probably meant the abyss was weak. But again, I had only extracted it from a beat up old mirror. Beggars can''t be choosers.


    "How did you find me?" the voice whispered again.


    "Amelia?" I said, "Amelia Doyle?"


    "That used to be my name..."


    "Can you show me your face?"


    There was a pause before the voice whispered, "I would love to but I can''t seem to..."


    The frown remained on my face. This abyssal being was certainly weak. "Do you want me to set you free?" I asked.


    "I would be grateful if you do..."


    "What can you do for me in return?" I said.


    "Anything that I am capable of doing in this form..."


    I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at the black mist. "You''ll have to answer my questions then."


    "I will try to answer as many as I can..."


    I nodded before saying, "Tell me how did you manage to leave a part of yourself in that mirror?"


    "I...don''t know..." the voice whispered. "I just had the mirror with me at all times. I looked at my face in it everyday. For years..."


    I cocked my head. "Was it a gift from someone?"


    There was another pause before the voice whispered, ¡°Julia..."


    "Who was it?"


    "My sister...she...was gone so soon..."


    I remained silent for a while, staring into the black mist. I felt like Amelia had something more to say. She spoke again.


    "The mirror was dear to me...because of Julia...it was like...I could see her in it..."


    "What happened to her?" I said.


    "Tuberculosis..."


    I paused again before asking my next question. "Do you think you can find her now that you are...like this?" I gestured at the mist.


    "I feel like I''m already with her...or at least a part of me is..."


    I nodded. "Thanks for answering my questions, Amelia. I liberate you."


    "Thank you..."


    The black mist disappeared.


    The feeling of someone''s presence was gone and it wasn''t cold anymore.


    Amelia Doyle''s abyss was weak but I''d learnt something new. Lesson one, personal effects can contain a shred of a person''s abyss. And lesson two, even if the abyssal beings were weak, they could still retain some memories of the person they belonged to.


    As the new information sank in, I wondered what would old Elsa''s abyss tell me if I did the liberation ritual on one of her belongings.


    "Maybe I should just ask her myself," I muttered to myself as I pulled out her vial of perfume from my pocket.

 13. New Bloodhound

    I applied a healing ointment to the cut on my palm as I contemplated the idea of trying to summon old Elsa''s abyssal form. Since I was going to extract the abyss from one of her belongings, it would probably be weak. So there was no reason to be afraid of her. Also, both Yazara and Amelia''s abyssal forms had been quite subservient when summoned. So I didn''t expect her to try anything funny with me.


    If I actually managed to summon old Elsa''s abyss, it would only prove more beneficial to me instead. I could get more information on the liberation ritual from her. Or ask something about witchcraft that I had to know.


    I didn''t bother making a new pentacle for this second summoning. I simply took Amelia''s mirror off the eye at the centre of the star and set the bottle of scent in its place. I cut my palm once again and dripped the blood onto the pentacle.


    I waited for the room to go cold and the whispers to begin again. I waited for the black mist to start swirling. But nothing happened.


    I frowned as my blood kept dripping onto the pentacle. "Why didn''t it work?" I mumbled.


    I took the bottle of perfume off the eye inside the pentacle and placed it back in (this was probably the witchcraft equivalent of plugging and unplugging the wifi cable to see if the internet starts working again). But nothing happened. The room was silent.


    I healed the cut on my hand again and left the room after erasing the pentacle off the ground. The frown never left my face as I walked back upstairs to the apartment.


    If Elsa was really dead then I should''ve been able to communicate with her. But the subject being alive hadn''t been a problem while summoning Yazara''s abyssal form. And it had been fairly easy to summon Amelia''s abyss from her compact mirror.


    Could the reason be that old Elsa wasn''t really attached to the perfume Lily gave her? Should I have placed the cold cream in the pentacle instead? Is it even necessary for a person to be attached to their belongings in order to extract their abyss from the object?


    I might need to run another experiment later. There were other matters at hand that I had to take care of. I had familiarized myself with most of Elsa''s belongings and skimmed through half of the hexonomixcon. But I still didn''t know everything that Old Elsa knew about Lily or Smokewell or other people from her life.


    That would have to wait though. Right now, the more important matter from all those matters was clearing our names from the Inquisition''s burn list.


    I entered the apartment. Lily and Smokewell were up and awake.


    "Morning Miss Elsa!" Lily greeted from the kitchen.


    "It''s afternoon, Lily," I said.


    "Oh," she said, looking out the kitchen window. "I didn''t even notice that. All I keep thinking about is the golden skeleton and all the money we''ll get after selling it off."


    "Stop talking about money all the time, Lily," Smokewell said from the couch, licking her paw, "You sound like someone who is broke."


    Lily rolled her eyes. "That''s because we are."


    "You are the one who is broke. Cats don''t need money to stay alive."


    "I guess we should leave you by a trash can so you can go and fend for yourself then?" I say playfully.


    Smokewell threw me a deadpan glare. "You can try that. I''ll simply go to the Inquisition and report your sorry carcasses to them along with your location. I¡¯ll even tell them that I was a lively, beautiful woman who got cursed by you witches. The non-users are so dead inside their heads they¡¯ll actually take a talking cat¡¯s testimony seriously."


    I smirked. ¡°I don''t think you''ll do that,¡± I said. ¡°Since you admitted yourself how you turned yourself into a cat so you could mislead the Inquisition from coming after us.¡±


    The cat turned her head away. ¡°Shut up.¡±


    I leaned in close, egging her on. ¡°You act all stoic on the surface but deep down you really are a fluffy little¨C¡±


    Scratch!


    I whimpered as I dropped myself on the couch, tending to the scratches the cat had given my face. "We need to prepare ourselves for our move against the Inquisition."This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "You came up with the plan. Why are you whining about it now?" Smokewell said.


    "Because it''s still dangerous," I said, "Dangerous enough to get one of us killed."


    "No," Lily said as she walked into the living room with a tray with three cups of tea and a bowl of milk for Smokewell, "I trust in Miss Elsa''s plan. It is risky but so is life."


    I smiled ruefully at the girl as I took my cup and raised it to my lips. "Where is Asmod?" I asked.


    "Right here," the short man said as he entered the apartment with a bundle of papers under his arm.


    "Right on time, Mr. Asmod!" Lily said, "I made tea for everyone."


    Asmod didn''t seem pleased. He seemed rather terrified.


    "If you were a non-user, I would''ve said you looked like you saw a ghost," Smokewell said as she licked the milk from the bowl.


    "I saw something worse," Asmod said. His voice was hoarse. He hastily stepped towards the couch and laid down the Morning Newspaper on the coffee table. "This," he said, pointing at a column on the front page. "They''ve appointed a new general for the witch hunter Inquisition."


    "Um, why is this any worse news than the fact that the Inquisition is still looking for us?" Lily asked.


    "Because apparently the previous General''s methods of investigation were not up to the standards required for the so-called direness of the situation," Asmod said, "The new General of Inquisition, Lloyd Hopper, has a record of carrying out fifteen successful trials around the cases of unethical practices of witchcraft which has led to thirty seven executions!"


    "Says who?" Lily said.


    "It''s all in the paper!" Asmod jabbed his finger down at the column.


    Smokewell leaned in to read further. "I know this man," she said, "Those thirty seven so-called witches he had executed were some poor beggars who had been accused by some brat. None of them were actual magic users practicing witchcraft."


    "How are you so sure all of them were non-users?" I said.


    "No one who is familiar with our trade ever lets things get that out of hand while possessing the talent of witchcraft," she said.


    "There''s more!" Lily leaned ahead as she read further in the column. "He has already lined up twenty people suspected of practicing unethical witchcraft. The trials will begin in two days."


    "I''m surprised there is no mention of the priority burn list," I said.


    "They won''t print that information in the papers," Smokewell said. "That would only alert those whose names are in that list. But I''m sure he is probably going to amplify the efforts to arrest the people on the list."


    "You know what this means, right?" Asmod said.


    "We''ll have to start acting on Miss Elsa''s plan right away," Lily said.


    "Not yet," I said, "This man is dangerous. I want to do some prior digging up on him before we dive in with our plan."


    "Asmod, do you have any contacts that might be able to tell you more than what we read in the paper?" Smokewell asked.


    Asmod sighed. "I can try but don''t get your hopes up. I''m not as well mixed up with the non-users."


    "Why don''t you sneak into the Inquisition''s headquarters, Madam Smokewell?" Lily said. "No one would suspect you since you are just a cat, well on the surface, at least."


    "I wouldn''t risk it." Asmod shook his head. "This man, Hopper, has put people on trial just because someone spread the silliest rumors about them. And I''m certain he has heard of the folk tale of witches turning themselves into cats to fool people."


    "Well, it seems like there''s no other way then," Smokewell said before turning to Lily, "Go and get that remaining s¨¬th bread."


    Lily did as she was told. Smokewell pulled out her ivory pipe, filled the well with the bread crumbs and asked Asmod for a light. Then she took a deep drag.


    ****


    The four of us sat around the coffee table, looking at the omens the cat had laid out for us. The cuckoo clock from Asmod''s kitchen, a knife (also from the kitchen), a candle and a hammer.


    "I''ll go first," Lily said, "the hammer probably signifies the justiciar''s mallet. There is some kind of trial at the end of this thing. A big decision is about to be passed."


    Everyone nodded. "That''s actually quite a sensible deduction," I said.


    Lily smiled proudly.


    "What about the candle?" Smokewell said, "Is someone still going to be burned?"


    "It might also signify shedding light onto something," Asmod said.


    "Now what about this?" Lily picked up the knife.


    I frowned. "If there''s a trial, then maybe the verdict will divide people?" I said. "The knife signifies cutting up the groups, I think?"


    "I can''t think of anything other than death at the omen of a knife," Smokewell said.


    "Don''t you all use knives to carve up ritual symbols?" Asmod said, "Maybe it signifies you having to carry out an important ritual?"


    "That might be possible," Lily said.


    "Now the clock." Smokwell laid a paw on the cuckoo clock.


    Lily rolled her eyes. "It probably signifies the time that we are currently racing against."


    That''s when my gaze happened upon something outside the kitchen window. I rose from the couch. "Or maybe, the clock signifies something that is inside that thing." I pointed at the clock tower in the distance, visible from the window.

 14. Thats not how curses work!

    "I don''t think we ever asked you about this," I said as we entered the clock tower through the back door. Lily and Smokewell were along with me. "But what makes the s¨¬th bread so special? You started to talk after we fed it to you. It also allows you to see the omens. What even is that thing?"


    The cat looked at me, "It''s something that we call a ''spiritual primer'' in witchcraft. It allows magic users--especially witches--to gaze into certain aspects of the world ''beyond the veil.'' It can also be used as a catalyst in rituals." She put a paw on the white mark on her chest. "Before I killed myself, I''d bonded my soul to that of this cat''s physical form--which was quite ordinary before she and I bonded. So I had to set certain conditions in order to evolve her into a cat-s¨¬th."


    I was certainly intrigued. "Wait, let me guess," I said, "You had to offer your human form in order to let the cat''s physical form evolve into a s¨¬th. Right?"


    "That''s just half of it," the cat said, "The other half consists of me giving up my powers of witchcraft. Or else I wouldn''t have evolved into a healthy and properly functioning cat-sith. Nor would I have been able to utilize the abilities this form offers."


    "And I guess you didn''t have to set any separate conditions in order to retain memories for your human life?" I asked.


    "No, I didn''t," Smokewell said.


    I nodded. Now Elsa''s notes on Core and Abyss of a soul made a lot more sense. It was just the core of Smokewell''s soul that had been transferred into the cat''s body. A part of her still remained in her human corpse. In the same way, I felt like some parts of old Elsa were still in me. One example was her memories other than her body, of course.


    "Wait, I''ve read about this." Lily leaned forward, "That world beyond the veil--you can actually look at it?"


    "Only a part of it," Smokewell said, "Anyone who learns the true nature of the world beyond the veil will either find enlightenment or get his soul paralyzed for eternity."


    I rubbed my chin. Was that paralysis the ''purgatory'' that Elsa''s notes had mentioned?


    "What is it like?" Lily asked excitedly, "I want to know what it looks like beyond the veil!"


    The cat paused and looked up at the spiraling staircase as we kept climbing. "It''s like being able to see the bones of a person through their skin while they were making their way towards you. It''s uncanny and absurd and yet...oddly beautiful." She let out a sigh. "But even I look beyond the veil only to a very small extent. I don''t want to go insane by knowing exactly everything that happens in the future."


    "How would it turn you insane?" I asked.


    "This is just something that other more learned witches had speculated--but if you make yourself see the true unfiltered world beyond the veil in full clarity--it will bombard you with all the information of the future, make you aware of everyone''s thoughts, show you the length, breadth and depth of mortal and the immortal realm and it will do it over and over and over." The cat looked at us and cocked her head, "What do you think that will do to our tiny mortal brains?"


    Lily and I remained silent. Then Lily said, "Now the world beyond the veil sounds scary."


    "Because it is," Smokewell said, "You either have to need something very desperately or be ready to give up something precious to peer into that part of reality."


    I just nodded and remained quiet. Smokewell kept talking, "But to answer your question more clearly. Eating the s¨¬th bread was part of the bonding ritual that I had set up with this cat. It completed when you fed me the bread. It affixed my soul into this cat''s physical form and it allows me to use my powers."


    Lily raised an eyebrow, "Wait, you mean you''ll have to keep consuming the bread to use your abilities?" she said.


    "For some abilities, yes." The cat nodded. "More specifically the abilities that involve peering into the world beyond the veil. I don''t need it for my other abilities."


    "Abilities like stealing souls?" I said.


    "Yes." Smokewell pulled out her ivory pipe. She held it up so we could see the ivory well of it. For a moment, its surface turned translucent and blue smoke was swirling within it.


    "Wow..." Lily said.


    "Those are the souls of the people that Elsa''s servant in heaven stomped down on," Smokewell said.


    "What?!" I gawked. "Why did you take them with you?"


    "They can come in handy later." The cat shrugged and made the ivory pipe disappear.


    Loud rumbling sounds of grinding gears echoed through the tower. We were close to the main machine of the clock.


    "I would advise everyone to be on your guard," Asmod said as he led us further. "Since one of the omens was a knife."


    "That''s all fine and good but where are we really headed?" Lily asked as we climbed higher and higher up the steps. "And what are we even looking for?"


    "For the next clue," Smokewell said, "Since Elsa pointed out the cuckoo clock might be signifying an actual clock."


    "Don''t make me second guess it by saying it like that," I said.


    While Lily, Smokewell and I were trailing behind Asmod, he had reached the top of the stairs and disappeared around the corner. Then we heard him shout, "Hey, what are you doing? Get down from there!"


    The rest of us rushed up the stairs to find him by the white panels on the on the opposite wall. One of the panels had been opened and a woman stood facing out at the city down below.


    "You want to fall off or something?" Asmod said as he grabbed onto her wrist and tried to yank her back into safety.


    "That''s what I''m trying to do. Let go of me, little man!" The woman struggled to free herself from Asmod''s grip.


    Lily gasped and rushed towards the two of them. She grabbed onto the woman by the back of her neck and hauled her off the edge of the tower with surprising ease. She tossed the woman in our direction. Smokewell and I jumped out of the way and the lady went rolling down the first flight of stairs.


    Asmod gaped at Lily. "What was that, Lilian?!"


    "That woman would''ve fallen to her death if I hadn''t interfered," Lily said triumphantly. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    "Yeah I think your throw has probably rattled her brains inside her skull," Smokewell said and walked over to the woman, who was groaning and whimpering in pain. "Hey, can you understand what I''m saying?"


    The lady just stared at the cat, flabbergasted.


    I made my way up to Smokewell and lifted her off the ground. "What are you doing? You are going to blow our covers!"


    "What covers?!" Smokewell cocked her head.


    I rolled my eyes. "You are a cat. And cats aren''t supposed to--"


    "That cat is talking!" the lady pointed at Smokewell. "I saw her talk!"


    "No, you didn''t. You just have an injured brain from the fall and you''re going crazy," Smokewell said before I could.


    I gave the cat a hard shake. "You''re making it worse! Just give it a rest."


    "See? It talked! It talked again." The woman pointed again, looking terrified.


    "No, you didn''t!" I snapped.


    This time the woman didn''t respond. She simply pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "This isn''t good. It''s all my fault," she muttered, shaking her head.


    "What are you talking about?" Asmod said as he and Lily slowly approached us.


    The woman lifted her head to look at us. Her eyes looked grim with fear and her lower lip quivered.


    "I think I might''ve put a curse on you," she said.


    ****


    She said her name was Lenora Desmond. She was in her mid-thirties, clad in a summer dress, long coat and a pair of sandals. She had dark brown hair and a slightly chubby face that was blotched from crying. "Please, forgive me," she put her head in her hands as she continued to cry after her explanation.


    "That''s not how curses work," Lily said, offering her handkerchief to the woman. "What you are describing is more of a contagious disease. Not a curse."


    "Then why did that cat start speaking after it came here and saw me?" she pointed at Smokewell again.


    I held back a groan and the urge to smack Smokewell for speaking in front a non-user. I instead turned to Lenora, "Why do you think you are capable of cursing people?" I asked. "Do you know how uh, your powers in witchcraft awakened?"


    Smokewell scoffed and started to say, "That''s not how witchcraft wor--"


    I held her feline mouth shut.


    "So, how did it begin, Lenora?" Asmod said.


    The woman shook her head. "The spirit of darkness snuck onto me when I was asleep," she said. "It sucked on my blood and infected me with the powers of witchcraft."


    I pursed my lips. "Did you witness this...spirit of darkness do it to you?" I asked.


    "I know that it did," Lenora said, "It left its mark on me." She lifted the sleeve of her dress and revealed her upper arm. Two sore looking red dots were present on her skin. To me it looked like some kind of allergic reaction. And from the looks of my companions, they were probably thinking something along the same lines.


    "Did you actually end up cursing someone after those marks appeared?" Lily asked.


    Lenora nodded hesitantly. "My neighbor...its this old lady who likes to dig up dirt on everyone who lives in the tenement. She had been spreading rumors about me having an affair with another man. I had a fight with my husband over it last night. I came to tears trying to convince him. This morning when I stepped out to pick the morning news paper. I saw her down in the street from the balcony. She was taking her dog out for a walk. I hated her so much in that moment. I kept wishing death upon that hag. I''d never felt that kind of scorn for anyone else. And just a few paces ahead, the woman collapsed on the ground for no reason. Later, the word got around the tenement that she died of an unknown cause. I thought it might''ve been a coincidence and just came back inside to get ready to go to work. While stepping into the shower, I noticed the marks on my arm." She put her head in her hands again. "Then I knew it. I...I cursed her. I cursed her to death. The spirit of darkness has violated me. I''m a witch..."


    I frowned.


    Smokewell freed her mouth from my grip and said again, "That''s not how curses wor--"


    I shut her up again. "So, you came here all heartbroken to..." I prompted.


    Lenora nodded. "I wanted to end it all. I don''t want my husband to get punished or cursed because of my witchcraft."


    Lily looked at the woman uncertainly. "If you are so sure you are a witch, have you tried to get yourself examined by an actual witch? Just to make sure whether you actually possess the power to curse someone?"


    Lenora shook her head vigorously. "Of course not. I wouldn''t want to go in the vicinity of someone who specializes in casting curses. It might cause more problems than solve anything."


    "Lady, you''ll just have pay a small amount of steambolts to get your condition checked," Lily said.


    Lenora kept shaking her head.


    Asmod, Smokewell, Lily and I exchanged looks. "Give us a minute, Lenora," I said and pulled them all aside. The four of us huddled together in a circle.


    "I think, it''s safe to assume that that lady isn''t a witch?" I asked in a low voice.


    "I''ll bet my ivory pipe that she isn''t," Smokewell said.


    "Are we really sure?" Asmod said. "She said she wished upon the old lady''s death and then the woman actually fell dead in the middle of the road."


    "The old woman probably had a stroke," I said. "I''m sure if we ask others who saw her die, they will say that one side of her mouth was drooping downwards. It was just a dark coincidence."


    "But what do we do?" Lily said, "She seems fully convinced that she is a witch. She is ready to kill herself to not spread her so-called curses."


    "What if we admit that we are magic users and we know that curses don''t work that way?" Asmod asked.


    "No." I shook my head. "She seems like an idiot. She will either make a lot of noise and report us to the Inquisition. Or she will think that we are lying in order to get something out of her."


    "I agree with Elsa," Smokewell said. "Witches don''t exactly have a clean reputation to earn a stranger''s trust."


    I raised an eyebrow. "I''m surprised that you didn''t suggest just letting her die," I said.


    Smokewell scoffed. "Oh trust me, I''d love to. But she is probably the key to our next clue. There''s a reason why the omen showed a clock and we find this woman inside a clock."


    "And she was about to hop out of the face of that clock!" Lily said in an excited whisper. "Just like a cuckoo in a cuckoo clock. It''s all making sense now!"


    "Calm down, Lilian," Asmod said and turned to the rest of us. "We still don''t know what we should tell her even if we want to find our next clue."


    I frowned in thought before an idea popped into my head. I looked at Smokewell. "I think there''s a way to get the information out of her." I grinned at her.


    The cat looked intrigued. "You really want me to talk to that lady?" she said.


    I nodded. And leaned closer. "Now listen carefully. I want you to say something very specific."


    The cat nodded back once I told her. Then she moved out of our huddle and strutted over to the woman. "Lenora!" she called in a loud, ominous voice.


    The woman looked at the cat, even more shocked. "You''re really talking! I really cursed you. I''m so sorry."


    "Quiet, you insolent girl!" Smokewell snapped. "You think your lesser mortal form is capable of cursing me?"


    Lenora took a hesitant step back. "W-Who are you?" she said.


    Smokewell scoffed. "I won''t tell you. I''ll just show you instead." She licked a paw and rubbed it over her face. Her horns grew out of her feline skull and her tail turned into the silvery hacksaw like blade she had shown the first night when we fed her the bread. Smokewell took another step forward and firmly planted a paw ahead of her. "You didn''t curse me. I was the one who granted you my powers," she said.


    Lenora''s eyes went wide. "You?"


    "Yes, it is I, the Spirit of Darkness who sank my teeth into you and gave you a sliver of my powers," she said.


    "W-Why me?" Lenora stuttered.


    "Don''t question me, you insolent girl!" Smokewell snapped. "If you think you can''t handle these powers then I''ll take them back."


    "Yes, please!" The woman nodded quickly.


    "Very well then. But before I do that, you''ll have to answer my questions first."

 15. What did he do to you?

    "I''ll answer all your questions!" Lenora nodded again. "Just free me from this curse."


    Smokewell scoffed and raised her chin, eyes gazing at the roof, adding more drama to her pause. "Tell me, what do you know of the man named Lloyd Hopper?" she said.


    Lenora paused. "The witch hunter general?"


    "Yes, that Lloyd Hopper."


    "I won''t be able to tell you much," Lenora said, "But, I know someone who might."


    We all looked at the woman curiously.


    "Who is it?" Smokewell asked.


    "My husband, Clyde. He works at the Orowen Internal Police department," she said.


    That gave me a pause. According to Old Elsa''s memories, the Inquisition was a special division of the Internal Police. Lenora had to be the correct link in the chain of omens.


    "Then we shall talk to your husband ourselves!" Smokewell said.


    "Ourselves?" Lenora looked at us. "I-Is the spirit involving you all in this?"


    "Don''t question my words, you insolent girl!" Smokewell snapped again.


    I gave a nervous chuckle and stepped forth. "I mean, we don''t mind coming along. The spirit of darkness has possessed our housecat, afterall."


    Asmod nodded. "Yes, we''ll come along so we can make sure nothing bad happens to her."


    "Now make haste for our departure!" Smokewell called out.


    I rolled my eyes and lifted the cat into my arms. "Can you turn it down a bit? Your acting is getting annoying now."


    ****


    We drove over to Lenora''s place in a Asmod''s carriage. The tenement building had five stories with brick walls of fading paint and dark windows. Lenora told us it was the housing assigned especially to the Internal Police employees. "Everyone who lives here works for the government," she said as she shyly led us up the front steps and into the building.


    We followed her up the stairs in a slightly tense silence. Asmod''s face didn''t betray any noticeable emotion but I could tell he was being cautious. Even Lily seemed more serious than usual. Smokewell sat on my shoulder as I kept mounting the stairs, trying to calm my heart that kept skipping a beat.


    Lenora unlocked the door to her flat and led us in, "My husband isn''t home yet," she said as she pointed us to the sofa in the sitting room. "But I can look into some of the files or documents from his work for you."


    Smokewell climbed down onto my lap as I settled on the sofa. "You better find something useful about Hopper for me. Or I''ll make you curse your husband."


    Lenora swallowed hard and nodded before disappearing into what seemed to be the master bedroom.


    I knit my eyebrows at the cat. "Would you stop doing that?" I whispered.


    "Stop what?" Smokewell asked.


    "Stop intimidating the woman, for god''s sake," I said. "That lady was about to kill herself when we met her. You are not making this any easier on her."


    "My job is to make things for us, not for some pitiful stranger we just met," she said.


    "But, Grimly is right," Asmod said, "The woman is also under a lot of stress. We should be careful with her or she might make a mishap that might get us sucked deeper into this trouble."


    "Hey, look at this," Lily said and showed us a picture frame of what seemed to be a slightly younger Lenora who seemed to be smiling next to a man with close cropped hair and a stoic face. "Lenora and her husband," she said.


    "That man looks constipated," Smokewell said.


    "Lenora looks quite happy though. Don''t you think so, Miss Elsa?" Lily said.


    I didn''t say anything as I looked at the picture. For some reason, looking at the two faces made me oddly nostalgic. I remembered another picture in another home in another world. I was part of that picture. I was much younger than Lenora. But I was only one smiling in it. While the other two people posing with me looked like they would''ve preferred being anywhere other than the picture.


    I was still wondering how to answer Lily when Lenora walked back into the sitting room. She had a notebook in her hand. "I-I''m afraid I couldn''t find anything solid about General Hopper," she said nervously. "But, here''s my husband''s work diary. He notes down some important things in it. He has written in the most recent entry that General likes to have his tea with a dash of lemon."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    She showed us the page on which the husband had written it. Smokewell leaned forward to read it.


    "Why has your husband made a note of that?" Lily asked.


    "He is the head chef at the canteen of the IP headquarters," Lenora said.


    I felt my forehead crease as disappointment swelled within me. This information wasn''t really useful.


    "You insolent girl!" Smokewell snapped. "I told you to find something that''s of value!"


    "I-I tried...." Lenora staggered back on her feet. "I...I really did...I swear..."


    Lily slowly rose to her feet. "It''s okay, Miss Lenora," she said in a soft soothing voice. "Don''t be nervous. It''s alright."


    I discreetly pinched Smokewell''s back, making her hiss at me. I threw a subtle glare at her.


    Lenora had managed to calm down a little. "I''m sorry," she said in a small voice. "I have the habit of stuttering when I''m really afraid."


    "It''s alright," Asmod said in his fatherly, reassuring voice. "We all have our nervous tics."


    Lenora actually smiled. But the smile soon vanished when the key turned in the front door. Someone walked in. It was her husband. He didn''t seem surprised to see her home while she was supposed to be at work. It was Lenora who seemed like the rug had been pulled off from under her. "Honey, I-I thought...you were at work."


    Clyde was as stoic as he was in the picture we had seen of him. "Well I''m here now," he said. "It''s funny that I was actually expecting you to be here too. Or more like, I knew you weren''t headed for your work even though you said you were."


    Lenora went quiet, her lips tightened, her gaze turned to the floor.


    I felt like I should''ve said something to ease the obvious tension in the room. But Lily spoke up first instead. "We ran into Lenora less than an hour ago. We work in the building right next to hers. She looked sick so we thought why not accompany her to her home?" She kept a friendly smile throughout her expression.


    Clyde turned to us as if he had just noticed us. His eyes were like that of a hawk''s as he took in each of our faces. And then he smiled back. Something was very uncanny about that expression even though it looked very real. "Thank you so much for making the effort to see her off," he said before stepping close to his wife and wrapping an arm around her. "Nora hasn''t been feeling well for quite a while actually. I try to make her rest, try to make her stay at home but she won''t listen. Such a devil." He playfully pinched her cheek.


    Lenora didn''t meet his gaze nor did she smile. Her reaction to her husband''s touch could be chalked up to be the result of her fear. The reason why she came to the clock tower was because she wanted to come away from a crowd and her husband so that she didn''t accidentally curse someone, as she believed she was capable of doing. Yet, something about the way Lenora reacted the moment Clyde returned didn''t seem like concern for his well being. She seemed more like a mouse who had been cornered by a cat.


    "So," Clyde said to us with a smile, "Now that I''m here I think you don''t have to worry about Nora much. I can take care of her from here. Thanks again for dropping her home."


    My left eye twitched slightly. Something really wasn''t right with the couple I saw standing in front of me. Then I noticed something else. All my companions were casting the same suspicious gaze at the man smiling at us. Then Asmod said, "Lenora, do you want us to leave?"


    The woman looked up with wide eyes. This time she couldn''t even hide the fear that was evident in his eyes.


    "I just told you that I can handle it from here," Clyde said. The hospitable smile was gone from his face now. There was a repressed anger in his eyes like a wolf ready to pounce.


    "Lenora, we just asked something," Lily said. "Do you want us to leave?"


    Clyde didn''t hold back his glare anymore. I could tell his grip on Lenora''s shoulder had just tightened.


    "Y-Yes, thanks for coming along...I-I''ll be f-fine..." the woman said.


    "Why are you stuttering, Lenora?" I narrowed my eyes.


    Clyde pulled his wife closer against him. "Yes, Lenora why are you stuttering. Can''t you speak properly?"


    "I-I...I..."


    "I think we all know the reason why Lenora is stuttering," Asmod said.


    "Agreed." I nodded. "And it''s about time someone did something about."


    "With pleasure." Lily rose from the sofa and stepped towards Clyde with an unflinching look.


    Clyde seemed uncertain when the girl made her way towards him but he managed to keep his glare. And before he even had a clue, Lily had driven her fist into his stomach, knocking the air out of him and shoving him several feet back. He tried to retaliate but Lily was a lot more nimble and armed with her near super human strength. She crouched and swept her foot at his ankle, throwing him off balance as her blow connected. She was about stomp him in the stomach when Smokewell spoke up.


    "No need to brutalize him any further," she said. "Just knock him out so he doesn''t get in our way after this."


    Lily nodded and pulled out a little black doll from her pocket. She broke the doll''s arm and crushed it in her grip. The arm turned to dust. She grabbed Clyde by his collar and yanked him up. Then she blew the dust in his face. The man went unconscious. Lily slid the doll back in her pocket and straightened out her skirt.


    Lenora stood frozen in her spot, bewildered and afraid. "What did you do to him?" she asked.


    "I don''t think that really matters at the moment," Asmod said. "The question is what was he doing to you?"


    Lenora looked away, flustered. "Nothing," she said quietly.


    "You aren''t stuttering anymore," I said. "You said, you stutter when you are afraid."


    "Isn''t it convenient that your stuttering stopped right when your husband went unconscious?" Lily said.


    Lenora''s face turned a deeper shade of red. "I only stuttered because I was scared I might curse him."


    "You weren''t scared of cursing any of us at the clock tower, though," Asmod said. "You weren''t stuttering back then."


    Lenora now went quiet.


    "You still haven''t answered the question," I said, "What was he doing to you?"


    The woman swallowed hard before saying, "When you asked me what I knew about General Hopper and I only showed you the diary entry about how he likes his tea, I wasn''t being fully honest."


    "Well, what were you hiding then?" Smokewell asked.


    Lenora nervously rolled her lips and went into the other room and came back with a small wooden box. "The Internal Police have distributed these among all their employees," she said. "The purpose of sharing these is so that they could test if someone was cursed or bewitched among the families of their own employees." She opened the box. Inside it was a thin stiletto knife.

 16. Spirit of Darkness

    "What are you even supposed to do with the knife?" Lily said, picking up the blade and turning it over and back.


    "You are supposed to prick yourself with the knife and see if the blood that oozes is green," Lenora said.


    "What kind of backwards test is that?" Smokewell said.


    "You see, since those that are bewitched are infected by the spirit of darkness, it affects their blood and gives it a darker tinge than the pure blood," she said.


    Smokewell rolled her eyes. She was probably getting tired of listening to the term ''spirit of darkness'' being repeated over and over.


    "There is one more thing," Lenora said. "When the spirit of darkness sucks on mortal blood, it covers up the teeth marks with some kind of enchantment. That enchantment comes undone when you use the soap that was also provided by the Internal police."


    "That''s not how enchantment works," Asmod said in a voice that was tight with restrained annoyance.


    I held back a groan and rubbed my forehead. "So you are using a soap other than the one you originally used?" I asked.


    Lenora nodded. "That''s why the teeth marks on my arm got revealed when I started using that soap. Because the enchantment came undone."


    "That''s it, I''m fed up with this." Smokewell hopped upon my shoulder to get face to face with Lenora. "It''s about time we got something out of the way. Woman, you aren''t cursed."


    The woman''s face was skeptical.


    "Don''t give me that look," Smokewell said. "You know you aren''t."


    "How would you explain my neighbor dying from my wish of her death?" Lenora crossed her arms.


    "You said that lady was old. She sounds quite old since she had a lot of time to gossip and spread rumors about others," I said, "It''s very possible that the woman''s heart gave out or she had a stroke. You just happened to be at the wrong place, thinking the wrong thing."


    "What about these teeth marks?" She lifted her sleeve to show the spots on her skin.


    "You just said you were using a new soap. And it''s issued by the government. We don''t know what they made it with in order to make it capable of ''detecting the bad blood''. Your skin is just showing a reaction because the soap probably isn''t made with good materials," Smokewell said.


    "And let''s not forget the fact that we are still alive even when we are in your vicinity," Lily said.


    "I haven''t wished death upon any of you," Lenora said, her voice uncertain.


    "Why don''t you do it now?" Asmod stepped forward. "I''ll volunteer to get cursed. Go on, do it."


    Lenora shook her head, bewildered. "No! I won''t risk it."


    "How about this, if you do manage to put a curse on Asmod, we won''t blame you," Smokewell said.


    "Do it," Asmod said again.


    Lenora looked torn. I could see a glimmer of hope in her eyes but also fear of actually being someone who could curse someone to death.


    "Do it," Lily said. Smokewell repeated it. And so did I.


    "Alright then," Lenora said. "I''ll do it." She turned to Asmod and with an uncertain look she clenched her eyes shut and muttered something under her breath. We all watched her as she went about coming up with a curse in her mind. A minute or two passed. Lenora opened her eyes.


    Nothing happened.


    "See?" Asmod said.


    "No..." the woman took a step back. "It''s probably because I don''t hate you as much as I hated my neighbor."


    "Lenora, stop." I took a step forward. "Just accept that you are perfectly normal. And maybe...it''s something else that scared you. Something else that brought you to that clock tower. Something else that made you want to jump and end it all for good."


    "Maybe it was someone who was going to prick you with a knife to see whether you deserved to live as his wife." Lily shrugged, poking the tip of the stiletto blade with her finger.


    "That''s a thought worth considering," Asmod said.


    "I think our work here is done," I said and took the knife from Lily and put it back in its box. Then I took Clyde''s diary and held it under my arm. "If you don''t mind, we''d like to borrow these for a bit."


    "Later then," Smokewell said as my companions and I turned to leave.


    *****


    Back in Asmod''s apartment, we were in the sitting room. Lily was lounging on the sofa with her feet over the armrest. Smokewell was in her usual window. Asmod was down in the shop. I sat cross-legged by the coffee table and perusing Old Elsa''s journal. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "What exactly are we going to do about Hopper?" Lily said. The stiletto knife was in her hand, her finger kept poking at its tip.


    "That''s what I''m trying to figure out," I said as I flipped through the pages.


    The girl groaned and turned to the cat in the window. "Madam, why is the government doing this? Are they really this scared of us?" she said.


    "No, Lily," Smokewell said, gazing out the window. "They aren''t just scared of us. They are scared of anyone they can''t control. Truth be told, in their situation it does make sense."


    "But...does it?" Lily sat up on the sofa. "I mean, when was the last time some coven did something truly terrible? Or even a magic user who did something terrible and didn''t sign the agreement?"


    "You don''t actually have to do it, you know?" the cat said. "The fact that you are capable is what worries the government. Law is fragile like that. Everyone needs to agree upon it and follow it in order for it to mean something. The funny thing is, it doesn''t mean anything even after you do all that. There''s always going to be someone who breaks the law and defies it in a multitude of ways."


    "I guess that''s true," Lily said. "You know, Miss Elsa, before the Inquisition formed the witch hunter division, there was the news of this one man trying to blow up the temple of the Steam Elemental."


    "Did he succeed?" I said, keeping my eyes on the page.


    "He did!" Lily said excitedly. "I only heard rumors of it, but they say the explosion was glorious. Some speculate he was a fire mage. I think he must be a warlock. They are mighty nimble, aren''t they?"


    "That''s one rumor I can actually believe," Smokewell said. "And even that''s because of the current state of the law and order regarding magic."


    Lily collapsed back on the couch. "I miss the days before the Steam Elemental shook hands with the non-users. We could just walk around with our pointy hats and no one would say anything. Well, some were still uncomfortable around us but at least we didn''t have to constantly live in the fear of the Inquisition."


    That caught my attention. I kept my face nonchalant. If the world was like that before the steam elemental then why did I remember Old Elsa being jumpy and always cautious. Was it for some other reason?


    "I wish you could''ve experienced it, Miss Elsa," Lily said, turning to face me with a gentle smile. "You are always so cautious and careful. And that was true even before the witch hunters made the burn list."


    I pursed my lips. "It''s okay, Lily. Sometimes life is a bit unfair."


    "I guess it is. Don''t worry, though." She propped herself on an elbow. "It''s only until we are done with this man, Hopper. After that, you and I and Madam and even Asmod, we''ll all party at the Volcano lane."


    I raised an eyebrow. "What''s that?"


    "It''s a street in the neighboring city. The entire stretch of the road is nothing but barbecued meat restaurants and that''s not even the best part. All the restaurants are run by drakes!"


    "I wonder if they''ve signed the agreement," I said.


    "Probably not," Smokwell said, "I''m sure they are an establishment similar to that run by the liches."


    "It''s called Skeleton Crew, madam. And you need to admit that it was the best place you''ve seen since you turned into a cat," Lily said.


    "That''s it," I said, closing the journal. "I think it''s about time we dug up something substantial on Hopper." I went over suitcase to get my ritual knife and Clyde''s diary.


    "What are you going to do, Miss Elsa?" Lily said.


    "You can come along if you want," I said.


    Smokewell came along with Lily. I led her down to Asmod''s shop and made him open the secret door to his workshop for us.


    I came back to the empty spot when I''d carried out the Liberation ritual on Amelia''s mirror. I drew a pattern on the ground and placed Clyde''s diary at its center.


    Lily watched with equal parts curiosity and excitement. "This is the same ritual that you summoned that giant man with, right?" she asked.


    I nodded.


    "Hm, I''d been wondering where you learnt to do that," Smokewell said.


    "In one of the books of Dark Arcana," I said, and it wasn''t really a lie. When I''d accessed more memories about the Liberation ritual, Dark Arcana was the book that Old Elsa had referred to.


    "So, how does it work?" Lily asked.


    I explained the basics to them as I wiped the grit off my knife and prepared to slit my palm.


    "Wait, if you could extract information like that, then why didn''t you use the ritual on Clyde while he was still unconscious?" Lily asked.


    "No," I said, "An abyss can either be extracted from the mortal remains of a person or their belongings. Clyde''s body and soul are still fused together. I can''t extract his abyss from his body while he is still alive."


    Lily nodded. I finally cut my palm and dripped the blood onto the pentacle. The air around us turned cold. There was a whisper as the black mist whirled in front of me. I wasn''t surprised as the mist remained shapeless and didn''t take any solid form.


    "Identity yourself," I commanded.


    "Clyde Desmond," the voice said. It sounded much firmer than the previous abysses I''d extracted. But that tone of servitude was still there.


    "I don''t have much time so I''ll keep this short," I said, "Tell me whatever you know about General Lloyd Hopper. Other than the fact that he likes his tea with a dash of lemon."


    The voice was quiet for some time. I could feel Lily and Smokewell¡¯s uncertain gazes burning holes into my back. "Answer me!" I said sternly.


    "My recollection is rather weak...but I remember the general as man of...little courage."


    I raised an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean? Elaborate."


    "I''ve fed a lot of officers of various ranks. But if I had to compare General Hopper to the previous one in his position, I would say Hopper is the first man in uniform who seems genuinely afraid of witchcraft. It makes him anxious."


    I scoffed. "Is there anything else you can tell me about him?" I asked.


    "I''m afraid not," the voice said after a brief pause.


    "Then we are done here. Go away now. I liberate you,"


    "Thank you..."


    The mist disappeared. The coldness was gone.


    "So the General is scared of us," Lily said.


    "I''m not surprised," Smokwell said.


    I turned to the two of them with a grin. I couldn''t help but feel smug, "This is it then," I said. "If the general is really that afraid of witchcraft. Then we will put a stronger fear in him. Tonight, we''ll commence my plan."

 17. Interlude: Stuff of Nightmares

    Irwin Wright, one of the subordinate officers on the witch hunter Inquisition walked down the hallway in the Internal Police Headquarters in Orowen. He came to a halt outside a door with a golden plaque that read: Gen. Lloyd Hopper. (Head of the witchcraft investigations)


    Irwin knocked and asked for permission to be let in. The general was behind his desk, going through a report he''d received in the morning about the most recent activities relating to unregulated practices.


    ¡°Sir.¡± Irwin snapped a salute.


    Hopper looked up from the papers and gave a brief nod. He was a man in his late thirties with thinning red hair and a goatee of the same color. His shoulders under his grey uniform were rather narrow and his fingers were long and slender¨Cmore like a pianist rather than someone in the trade of protecting the commoners from the dark forces.


    ¡°Yes, Wright?¡± Hopper said as he leaned back in his chair and looked at the subordinate.


    Wright''s face looked sober and his eyes were tired. ¡°Sir¡­I did a knife test on my family¡­¡±


    Hopper looked at Wright calmly, waiting for him to proceed with what he was saying. Irwin did. Now Irwin was a man twice the stature of Hopper''s¨Cbroad-shouldered, barrel-chested, slim-waisted and firm-footed. Yet when he spoke of his family and the knife he had used on them, he shrank like a child who had been caught doing something he wasn''t supposed to. ¡°M-My¡­son¡­he bled green¡­¡± Irwin broke down in tears.


    Hopper''s face was like something carved out of stone. His eyes were like holes in a mask. He waited for Irwin to finish.


    ¡°My son has been bewitched, General. I-I thought I was a good father yet¡­somewhere I failed¡­someone casted their evil eye upon my child and tainted his blood.¡± Irwin whimpered as the tears kept flowing.


    Hopper was still silent, letting the man cry and find his voice again.


    ¡°What''s going to happen, General?¡± Irwin asked, his voice breaking with each word. ¡°W-What will happen to my poor child?¡±


    Hopper got up from his chair and looked up at the map of Orowen city on the wall. ¡°You know what we do to the witches,¡± he said with his back to Irwin. ¡°Your son will have to be put on trial. The evidence will be examined. Your son will be given a chance to speak in the court. But I won''t get my hopes up if I was his father. If the boy bled green, his fate is more or less set in stone.¡±


    ¡°P-Please don''t say that¡­he is just four¡­¡± Irwin whimpered again.


    ¡°He is a danger to you, Irwin,¡± Hopper said. ¡°You and your family. His blood will taint yours too. The spirit of darkness has sunk its teeth into him. Letting him walk around in society is letting the spirit of darkness taint society itself.¡±


    Irwin looked ready to collapse and ready to rub his nose on the General''s feet. But he didn''t do any of that. Instead he forced himself to say, ¡°I understand¡­¡±


    ¡°One more thing,¡± the General said, ¡°He needs to be isolated in the prison.¡±


    ¡°T-The Orowen penitentiary?¡± Irwin asked, baffled. ¡°T-That isn''t a place for a child, General.¡±


    ¡°It''s not your child anymore, Irwin. It''s the spawn of darkness now. Society needs to be protected before he infects it with his darkness,¡± the General said.


    Irwin didn''t say anything. He just nodded with a broken expression and left after giving a half-hearted salute.


    Hopper finally turned away from the wall and walked over to the wooden cabinet next to the window. He pulled out a small silver box from the cabinet and opened it. Inside was a glass ball resting on a small velvet cushion. The glass sphere was perfectly smooth with not a single line or seam visible and inside the glass, fog swirled like smoke. He took the ball and slid it into the breast pocket of his uniform. He could feel his warmth against his chest, reaching almost straight to his heart. Then he got down on his knees and chanted a small prayer to the steam elemental.


    The prayer went on for five minutes straight and at the end he touched the pocket in which he had slid the ball and felt its warmth. ¡°Praise be to the one whose soul is pure as water and warm as steam. Gratitude to the one who keeps me sane and keeps me clean.¡± He took the ball out and put it in the silver box and went back to reading the reports.


    Hopper was a man of deep faith. But his faith didn''t rely on any gods whose myths were written by humans. When he was a child, he had seen the world around him crumble right in front of his very eyes. He had never seen his father''s face and his mother never spoke of him. She made him worship a god that she believed in but couldn''t prove his existence when he questioned his teachings. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    She had grown old and fallen sick to a disease which still gave him nightmares. He could still hear her mad ramblings from a room in every house he had ever lived and he heard those voices even when he lived alone.


    Some had said it was syphilis that had taken his mother. But Hopper only believed the reality that he had forged in his own head. His mother had been cursed by a witch. Why? He didn''t know but from the tales he''d heard and seen around him, he knew one thing¨Cthere was no method to a witch''s madness.


    They did what they did and they were powerful enough to succeed at it. And to make things worse, the gods that people like Hopper''s mother worshipped were weak against the forces that gave their power to the witches.


    And thus, Hopper grew up hating witchcraft and distrusting the god who only existed in the myths and statues that humans built of him.


    That was until the Steam Elemental came around.


    An entity that gave people the fuel that made things fly and made carriages that ran without horses. It gave the Internal Police those weapons they called blunderbusses and steam powered rifles. Something that made the non-magic users, especially Hopper himself, feel safe against the dark forces like witchcraft.


    Hopper reached into the drawer of his desk felt for the Mist¨Cit was a handgun that he kept with himself at all times. Feeling its maplewood grip and cold metal against his skin gave him a jolt of courage and confidence. And it had the warmth of the steam ball he had prayed with a minute ago.


    Touching the Mist made him feel close to God himself. A god much more real than the one that had let his mother die to the curse.


    ****


    Hopper prayed with the steam sphere again at night. And he carried mist with him to bed. He slid the gun under his pillow before he lay down to rest. Gazing at the moon outside his window, Hopper eventually fell asleep.


    But he didn''t sleep for too long. He was brought back to the waking world with a searing sting in his arm. The first thing that he saw when he sat up with a jolt was a dark silhouette squatting on his chest and a burning warmth on his neck.


    The room was still dark and his eyes took a few moments before adjusting to it. When the dark shape finally became clear, his eyes went wide.


    The thing on his chest was a black cat but not just any cat. It had curving horns on it''s head, stripped yellow and black, a white mark of the evil five headed star on its dark fur and a serrated silver tail. It¡¯s red eyes glinted at him fiercely and when it opened its mouth, its teeth were coated with blood. It was something that didn''t belong to the reality that Hopper believed in.


    And so he screamed.


    The cat clawed him across the face.


    ¡°Get off me!¡± He snapped and shoved the feline away. He reached under his pillow but the mist was gone. The silverbox that was supposed to be on the bedside table was also missing. Hopper felt a pit in his stomach.


    That''s when he heard the laughter.


    The cat was laughing an unsettlingly human laughter. The sound was full of mockery and disdain.


    ¡°Look at you,¡± the cat said as it stalked across the room, holding him with its red gaze. ¡°For someone who had three dozen people executed, you are awfully jittery.¡±


    The cat laughed again.


    Fear kicked Hopper''s body into motion. He scrambled up to his feet and rushed towards the bedroom door. He found himself in the familiar hallway outside. But something was very weird about it.


    Then he noticed it. All the doors were gone. The corridor stretched into a never ending darkness. Hopper''s legs went weak as the cursed cat''s laughter echoed in his head. He tried to ignore the horrors surrounding him and started to run again. He couldn''t get very far.


    A massive dire wolf stood blocking his path, its ominous bulk filling the entire passageway. It bared its teeth at Hopper and snarled fiercely.


    The man stood frozen in horror and shock. That''s when a hand grabbed him by the back of his neck and slammed him into the wall. The laughter had gotten louder.


    Hopper was too busy wincing at the pain that shot in his back to notice the fingers that cracked the arm of a small black doll and crushed it to fine dust. The only thing he saw was when the dust blew into his face, burning his eyes. He cried in more pain and tried to run away but his legs grew heavy and unstable with each step.


    Desperately rubbing his eyes, he tried to keep moving, tried to escape. But every move he made felt more futile with every passing second. Then he felt a fierce kick, landing into his stomach, knocking him flat.


    His eyes gained a bit more clarity only to notice a silhouette standing above him. It was a woman in a crooked pointy hat, holding a broom in her hand and dressed in all black. She had thick brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. If Hopper hadn''t been scared for his own well-being he probably would''ve found the woman beautiful.


    But in his current predicament and looking at how she was dressed, he knew that she was going to be more than a little trouble. She proved his doubts right when she put her foot on his chest and forced him back on the ground.


    ¡°Lloyd Hopper.¡± The witch sneered, ¡°you and your law sent thirty seven people to their deaths just because you are afraid of witchcraft. Now I''m going to show you what you should really be afraid of.¡± She pulled out a knife from her pocket.

 18. The color of blood

    I could tell that Hopper wanted to scream when I brandished the knife. His two eyes above Smokewell''s claw marks were terrified and his mouth was trembling. I smirked and brought the knife closer to his face. "Do you recognize this?" I said, "this is the same knife that was given to all the employees of the Orowen Internal Police. It''s supposed to tell you who has been bewitched, right?"


    Hopper just shivered under my boot. I yanked him forward by his hair and snapped, "Answer me!"


    "Yes!" he squeaked like a rat.


    "Good," I said, "It''s good that you still have your wits about you. You are going to need them to comprehend what''s about to happen." I let go of his hair and grabbed ahold of his wrist. I placed the tip of the stiletto knife against the skin of his arm. He looked ready to pee himself. "Hold still, you idiot!" I shook him, almost like a child that was being disobedient. I was surprised that he weighed as light as he did. I pushed the knife through his skin. Blood oozed.


    Hopper whimpered but he tried to hold back every sound he felt like making. I was pleased. It meant we had been more successful in my plan of feeding to his fears. But we weren''t done yet. This was the last act of the big play we''d set up.


    I slit his arm further, making him bleed some more. Then I pulled the knife out.


    I mocked him with a smile. "Look what we have here," I said and yanked his arm forward, making him look at his own blood.


    His eyes went wide. The frightened look in them had been replaced nearly by a look of bewilderment and insanity.


    "What do you see?" I asked.


    For a long minute, he didn''t say anything.


    I shook him again. "What do you see?!" I snapped. "What''s the color of your blood?!"


    "It...it''s green!" he cried out in horror. Then he passed out.


    ****


    "Did it work?" Asmod said as he entered Hopper''s apartment.


    "Better than expected," Smokewell said. She was lounging on the sofa in the sitting room.


    Lily had called her direwolf familiar back into her card and she was tying a thick rope around the general, who was still unconscious.


    "Did you make sure his screams weren''t audible outside the apartment?" I asked.


    Asmod nodded. "It was completely silent," he said.


    "The optical illusion in the hallway was perfect, Mr. Asmod. For a moment, even I was fooled," Lily said as she made a tight knot on the general''s restraints.


    "It''s similar to what I''d installed in Zir''s restaurant," Asmod said smugly.


    I paused. "Wait, you built their optical illusion array?"


    "Who else do you think could''ve made such a seamless scenery with all those places?" he said. "I specialize in illusionary enchantments."


    "I''ll have to agree," Smokewell said as she gazed at the unconscious Hopper''s bleeding arm, "I only scratched him once but that was enough to get him to start seeing things." She looked at her claws. Asmod''s enchanting ink was still staining them along with the general''s blood.


    "It''s a special blend," Asmod said, "It depends on the spell I use while mixing the ink in order to enchant certain organs of the human body." He pointed at Hopper. "Right now, the ink has affected his blood. Any blood that he bleeds is going to appear green. The color change is purely visual and a harmless enchantment."


    "How long will the effects last?" I asked.


    "I can make the effects wear off whenever I want," Asmod said.


    "You really are amazing, Mr. Asmod," Lily said as she shoved the tied up general in a chair. "This wouldn''t haven been possible without you and Miss Elsa''s plan."


    "We aren''t done yet," I said. "One last step remains before we can clear our names from the burn list."


    "Should I wake him then?" Lily asked, pulling out her black doll and snapping its leg.


    "Yes," Smokewell said. "We''re prepared."


    "I''ll go back to keep watch outside the apartment," Asmod said and left the room. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I nodded at Lily. She crushed the doll''s broken leg to fine dust. Then she blew it in the general''s face.


    The man opened his eyes and his fear returned to his face almost immediately. ¡°Y-You¡­¡±


    ¡°We aren''t here to hurt you,¡± I said as I pulled over a chair in front of him and settled down. ¡°Unless you make us do it, of course.¡±


    ¡°W-What do you want from me?¡± Hopper said.


    ¡°Nothing much.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Clear my friends¡¯ and my name from the priority burn list.¡± Fear was still swirling within his eyes. I held back a grin and kept talking. ¡°And we aren''t here to negotiate. You are going to clear our names or walk about with that tainted blood running in your veins. And it doesn''t stop there. I''ve put a hex on you. Wherever you''ll go, whomever you''ll meet, speak, so much as glance at, you''ll infect them with your tainted blood.¡±


    For a good minute, Hopper just sat frozen in his restraints before clearing his throat and speaking up, ¡°I-It''s not that easy to just clear someone''s name¨C¡±


    ¡°Didn''t you hear what I said?!¡± I rose up from the chair and towered over him. ¡°There are no negotiations. You are going to clear our names or you are going to infect everyone with the curse.¡± I leaned close until he could feel me sneering in his face. ¡°And you can''t kill yourself. Because if you do I''ll just resurrect you again. And the power of the hex will be doubled.¡± I grabbed his face and squeezed his cheeks. ¡°I don''t care how you do it. You are going to clear our names or you are going to become a disease upon society.¡±


    Hopper froze with fear again. He went quiet again. I let go of his face and let him process his thoughts. Then he looked up at me.


    ¡°If you are capable of setting such a powerful hex upon someone, why are you so adamant on getting your name cleared?¡± he said, there was a hint of mockery in his voice. ¡°Are you afraid of the Inquisition?¡±


    I scoffed and turned my back to him. ¡°We are powerful. But we aren''t murderers,¡± I said, ¡°Believe it or not, Hopper, I want to live a life of peace and happiness too. But I can¡¯t do that after killing hundreds of people who are powerless against my curses.¡± I looked at him over my shoulder and said, ¡°So if you want to defy my demand, be my guest. But remember that I''ve warned you what your stubbornness will lead to. You''ll spread the curse wherever you go and watch people collapse and die in front of your eyes. The burden of hundreds of deaths won''t be on me. It will be all on you. You will be a worse monster than all the witches you were trying to hunt. All because of your stubbornness to fulfil a simple demand.¡±


    Hopper froze again. And then he went limp in his restraints. Then he said weakly, ¡°I''ll clear your names from the list. Please¡­take this hex off me.¡±


    I didn''t stop glaring. ¡°First you clear the names.¡±


    ¡°It''s a long process. I''ll have to¨C¡±


    ¡°How long?¡± I said.


    ¡°I''ll have to make a report and provide some evidence,¡± Hopper said. ¡°In order to clear your names from the list, the court needs to acknowledge that you aren''t witches.¡±


    ¡°There is no evidence of them being witches,¡± Smokewell said, hopping onto the chair behind me.


    Lily frowned. ¡°But we''d been¨C¡±


    Smokewell raised a paw to stop her. ¡°There is no evidence,¡± she said again. ¡°But there is evidence to prove that they aren''t witches.¡±


    It took a moment for Lily''s frown to disappear. ¡°Oooh, I get it now.¡± She nodded and then she smirked at the general. ¡°Yes, we aren''t witches.¡± She pulled out the stiletto knife I''d used on Hopper. ¡°We can use your so-called knife test as evidence.¡±


    ¡°But your blood needs to be red,¡± Hopper said.


    Smokewell scoffed. ¡°Lily, show him the color of your blood.¡±


    ¡°Right away,¡± she said and put the knife to her arm.


    ¡°Wait!¡± I said. The girl looked at me, puzzled. ¡°Did you disinfect the knife? We cut him with the same blade earlier.¡±


    Lily nodded. ¡°Yes, I used a cleansing potion to wash it.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I nodded back.


    Lily pushed the tip of the blade through her skin and made a slit. And to Hopper''s surprise, the blood was red.


    ¡°Impossible,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°You wanted evidence, right?¡± I said. ¡°Well there is your evidence. Now how long will it take to clear our names.¡±


    ¡°Um, the evidence needs to be preserved and presented to a judge along with a report from the investigating officer from Internal Police¨C¡±


    ¡°We don''t have time for all that!¡± I snapped. ¡°Make it faster.¡±


    Hopper perked up in his restraints. Then he spoke very hesitantly, ¡°Well, there''s one other way, but it''s not very¡­legal way.¡±


    ¡°We don''t have a problem with that,¡± I said. ¡°Now spill it.¡±


    ¡°I have a question, did you work with a coven?¡± he said.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then were you apprentices to someone?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°May I ask who it was?¡±


    ¡°Madam Alana Smokewell,¡± Lily said.


    ¡°She was found dead in her house, wasn''t she?¡± Hopper asked. ¡°I saw the report that she burned herself along with her house when the Inquisition raided her place.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yes,¡± I said.


    Hopper nervously licked his lips before saying, ¡°This is a bit tricky but if you can get a written confession signed by her admitting that you both weren''t really witches but more like¡­housemaids who helped her out, then the court can pardon you.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the law prohibits unregulated practice of witchcraft. But the court won''t punish you if you say that you were merely cooking and cleaning after the Smokewell lady,¡± he said. ¡°And since you bleed red, well the court won''t be able to make a case against you either.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at him. ¡°I see.¡± And then I turned to Smokewell.


    The cat nodded.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± I said. ¡°We''ll get the written confession. How long will it be before our names are cleared?¡±


    ¡°At least two days.¡±


    ¡°Do it by tomorrow evening,¡± I said. ¡°We''ll start writing the report and the confession right now.¡±

 19. Lies

    Three days later.


    I opened my eyes and looked at the sun shining in the window. I sat up and stretched my back. We were still in Asmod''s little apartment. But something was different today.


    We were free.


    Two days ago, we accomplished what we''d set out to do. Asmod had used his enchantment magic to write and sign a letter that resembled Smokewell''s handwriting to anyone who saw it. We had Hopper forge a fake report to prove us innocent. We even did that stupid knife test.


    All the evidence was sent to the court. The verdict was passed a lot more swiftly than we expected. We were taken off the priority burn list. And now we didn''t have to worry about getting arrested and burnt anymore.


    I brushed my teeth, got dressed and walked out to the sitting room. Lily and Smokwell were on the sofa, going through the newspapers, probably looking for any apartment advertisements.


    Asmod was watering a plant with lavender flowers in the window. He had taken a day off. I didn''t blame him. The entire week had been quite a rush for all of us.


    I sat down in a chair opposite to them.


    ¡°Good morning, Miss Elsa!¡± Lily said, cheery as always.


    ¡°Morning, Lily.¡±


    Smokewell and Asmod just nodded at me. I nodded back.


    I knit my eyebrows before saying, ¡°Do you all think we won?¡±


    ¡°Won what? The lottery?¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°No, I meant¡­our freedom. We are supposed to be free. Not fugitives anymore, yet I feel a bit¡­empty.¡±


    ¡°Why do you feel that way, Miss Elsa?¡± Lily cocked her head.


    I shrugged. ¡°I don''t know, maybe it''s just that we got away by basically lying to everyone,¡± I said. ¡°Everyone in this room knows that the knife test was nothing but superstitious non-sense. But we exploited that very non-sense to make our case.¡±


    ¡°Tch, what''s so bad about that?¡± Smokewell said. ¡°The world is a non-sensical place. The laws are foolish and people are idiots. They arrest us and execute us for their stupid reasons and you think we are the bad people for using their stupidity to save our hides?¡±


    ¡°I''m not saying we are bad people,¡± I said. ¡°It''s just that¡­we exploited the rules of a system that we don''t believe in and we know that the system is flawed yet we used those flaws to escape. Instead of¡­bringing a change.¡±


    Asmod stepped away from the window. ¡°It isn''t our responsibility to change the system, Grimly. In fact, the ones who are responsible don''t even care.¡±


    I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I didn''t really know why I was getting worked up over it. I actually agreed with what they were saying. But there was a gnawing feeling at the back of my mind. I wasn''t sure if it was something I''d inherited along with Old Elsa''s body. Or if I just found it nauseous to rely on something toxic in order to keep living.


    ¡°I''m sorry, I''m just rambling. Ignore me,¡± I said.


    ¡°No,¡± Lily said. ¡°I agree with Miss Elsa.¡±


    All eyes turned to the girl.


    She looked down at the newspaper in front of her. ¡°I thought about this too,¡± she said. ¡°What if someone innocent failed the knife test? What if someone whose blood was green for a completely different reason ended up arrested? I know, it isn''t our responsibility to worry about this. But, this does feel unfair.¡±


    Smokewell groaned. ¡°Don''t tell me you are going to do something to change this now?¡±


    Lily looked at me, as if she was going to agree with whatever I said. I sighed again and rose from the seat. ¡°No, I won''t,¡± I said. ¡°If I was alone, it was a different matter. But we are together here. And we had to take more than a few risks to earn our freedom. I won''t ruin it just like that.¡±


    I walked over to the door.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°I''m going to take a walk. I want a break from all this.¡±


    ¡°I''m coming along, Miss Elsa!¡± Lily hopped off the seat.


    I gave a wry smile and let her follow. We left the apartment. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Lily was quiet most of the way. I appreciated the silence. She seemed a lot more excited to take in the view of the city. I didn''t blame her. Quite the view it was, indeed.


    I got to see the things that I couldn''t make out that night on our drive to Skeleton Crew. There was a nice tapestry of businesses that flanked the streets. Taverns and shops that looked old were panelled with wood and had a rustic look to them. Bigger establishments were made of concrete and steel.


    Some vendors were hailing their wares. One of them was a woman selling potions. Nothing too kinky, something that enhanced alertness and physical energy more than a strong cup of coffee would¨Cprobably the Red Bull equivalent of this world.


    A few paces ahead another man was doing the same thing. But he was hailing steam powered stoves, blessed by the steam elemental itself. I found his marketing strategy quite interesting. He seemed more focused on letting people know that his product was going to be a household item in a few months and everyone who won¡¯t buy it will regret it when their neighbors and friends will flaunt it in front of them.


    I wondered if actually showing the features of his stove would''ve been a better way of enticing people''s money out of their wallets but I was wrong. A sizable crowd had gathered outside his little shop.


    ¡°It''s the steam elemental,¡± Lily said. ¡°People will hop onto any wagon that associates itself with those two words.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    We left behind what was the Bronzewheel Boulevard and arrived at Eternity Square. The clock tower next to Asmod''s Nook was visible even from all the way here, rising above all the other buildings.


    But a much more interesting structure was right at the centre of the square. A tall pyramid with the tip shorn off out of which steam kept rising into the air. The pyramid was made of bronze and shiny golden letters adorned the front of its face that read: HOLY HOUSE OF THE STEAM ELEMENTAL.


    ¡°Have you ever been inside one?¡± I asked Lily.


    The girl shook her head but gave me a weird look. ¡°Don''t tell me you want to attend whatever they are having there, Miss Elsa?¡±


    ¡°I''m certainly curious,¡± I said as the steam carriages ran in and out of the square. ¡°Aren''t you interested in seeing what all the fuss is about?¡±


    Lily gave a reluctant nod but her eyes were inquisitive. We walked into the pyramid through the door at the front.


    I was surprised that the inside of it didn''t feel like being in an oven. Even though the outside of the pyramid was made of metal. Another thing that surprised me was how sturdy the structure was from the inside.


    A large circular pit was at the centre of the floor. Smoke kept rising out of the pit and up into the chimney above. The strange thing about the smoke was that it only moved in a straight column, as if being blown through an invisible glass tube that opened into the chimney above.


    There were levels on each tier of the pyramid and every tier was filled with people chanting and praying. The lower level was a lot more dense with life than the ones above them. Lily and I climbed the stairs to the first level. People stood by the bannister rail at the edge. I took my place among the crowd and looked down at the hole in the floor.


    ¡°I didn''t know you were into this, Miss Elsa,¡± Lily said.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I said.


    ¡°Into gods and faith.¡± She put her elbows on the rail and leaned ahead. ¡°I feel like you might be into several other things I didn''t think you were into.¡±


    I remained quiet for a bit and focused on Old Elsa''s memories, trying to remember her thoughts on Gods. What I learnt was that most covens of witches prayed to a certain dark entity that lent its powers to them. Lily and Smokewell and I didn''t belong to any such coven, so our relationship with any kind of God, aside from a few offerings made in some specific rituals, had been minimal.


    And since Old Elsa had been rather aloof and reserved, seeing me getting curious about these things was probably coming as a surprise to Lily. ¡°I told you, I was just curious,¡± I said.


    ¡°But this isn''t really how you usually seek answers, you know?¡± Lily said, gazing into the pit of steam. ¡°You mostly look for answers in the books and documents.¡±


    I looked at the rising steam as well. ¡°I know,¡± I said, even though I didn''t. ¡°But sometimes, books can''t give you all the answers. Sometimes, you end up with more questions after reading a book.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Lily said, sounding surprised. ¡°I never would''ve expected you to say that.¡±


    I smiled wistfully. Old Elsa must''ve been a total nerd. I leaned ahead on the bannister too. ¡°I wouldn''t have either but¡­I''ve felt a change in myself. I don''t remember ever seeing the kind of things I''ve seen in the past few days. And I want to see more. Learn more. Learn more than what a book will tell me.¡±


    Lily smiled at me. ¡°I like this change in you, Miss Elsa,¡± she said. ¡°I like that you are telling me what you have on your mind. I hope this change doesn''t go away.¡±


    I turned back to the steaming pit when another voice spoke up, ¡°This was the last place I expected to find you.¡±


    It was General Hopper. Lily and I took our hands off the bannister and regarded the man warily.


    ¡°Don''t worry,¡± he said, ¡°I''m not looking to cause any trouble.¡±


    I frowned but I did notice that he was wearing a simple shirt with suspenders, trousers and a long coat. This wasn''t his uniform.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± I said, trying to keep my voice steady and my face unreadable.


    ¡°I wanted to talk to you about something,¡± Hopper said as he gazed into the pit below.


    ¡°Well, then spill it,¡± Lily said, her jaw was tight.


    Hopper said nothing, he simply glimpsed at his pocket watch and looked down into the steaming pit.


    Through the darkness and the smoke, a man appeared, standing atop an iron platform that seemed to float on the rising steam. He was dressed in a leather jacket of black and grey and the bottoms of the trousers were covered with red patterns that looked like flames. He wore a large glass sphere on his head and blue steam whirled inside the glass. His hands were raised and he was facing the sky.


    Chants and prayer turned louder and more frantic as he rose above the consecutive tiers of the pyramid. People were calling him the Priest of Steam but he looked more like a biker from an 80s sci-fi comic to me.


    As the volume of the voices went higher inside the pyramid, Hopper leaned close to me and spoke into my ear, ¡°I know the knife test wasn''t real. And you hadn''t really cursed me.¡±

 20. The Smell of Smoke

    ¡°I don''t believe you,¡± I said as the priest kept rising higher and higher on his hoverboard thing.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Hopper frowned.


    ¡°I don''t believe that you said you weren''t here to cause any trouble,¡± I said. ¡°You telling me that thing about the knife test very much means trouble for me and my friends.¡±


    ¡°If you are here to trick us into admitting something so that you can arrest us then forget it,¡± Lily added. ¡°We are free people now.¡±


    Hopper shook his head. ¡°This is not a trick. And I''m not looking to arrest anyone. In fact I''ve signed my resignation.¡±


    I paused. The priest''s hoverboard had come to a halt a few feet under the chimney in the pyramid. He began to talk. I pulled Hopper aside, away from the crowd. ¡°What do you want?¡± I said.


    ¡°I can''t tell you here,¡± he said and slipped a card into my hand before muttering, ¡°meet me on this address in the afternoon. And don''t talk about any of this with your friend until you leave here.¡±


    I frowned and slid the card into my pocket and walked back to Lily. She was intently listening to the sermon that the priest of steam was giving. I didn''t really blame her. It was quite the sermon.


    The man with the big glass helmet on the hoverboard talked about progress of mankind, peace among countries and the Steam Elemental''s hand in all of it. And how things were only going to get better. This went on for several minutes as people kept cheering and praising. Then the priest on the hoverboard started speaking in a language I didn''t understand. But the majority of other people inside the pyramid seemed to since they joined in with him. It was some kind of prayer.


    As they spoke along with the priest the walls hummed with their collective voices and the steam rising out of the hole in the ground thickened and billowed around the man. I felt Lily''s hand clutching onto my arm.


    ¡°M-Miss Elsa¡­¡± she said in a labored whimper. ¡°Can we¡­leave?¡± Her face looked pale and it looked as if she had to make an effort to keep breathing.


    The chanting was growing louder. I frowned but didn''t protest against her request. I took her hand and led her out of the pyramid while the weird prayer continued behind us.


    Lily held onto my arm until we had left the Eternity Square. I stopped by on the side of the road to let the girl catch her breath. ¡°Are you alright?¡± I asked, putting a hand on her back as she leaned against the wall, her shoulders shivering a bit.


    ¡°I''m feeling much better.¡± She nodded. ¡°I don''t know what happened there. I think I inhaled some of that steam and it was¡­draining¡­its scent, its heat. Its very presence was sickening.¡±


    I felt my face creasing with remorse. ¡°I''m sorry for dragging you with me,¡± I said.


    Lily quickly straightened up and gave me a brave look. ¡°No, I''m completely fine now,¡± she said. ¡°I just acted like an idiot and leaned too far out to let the steam affect me. It wasn''t your fault, Miss Elsa.¡±


    I gave her a wistful smile. ¡°I''ll still pay more attention when we go somewhere like that again.¡±


    Lily returned a much more cheery smile. ¡°I trust you.¡± Then with a curious look on her face she said, ¡°what did Hopper want?¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    A frown creased my features as she reminded me of the man. ¡°He said he wanted to meet up.¡± I showed her the card he had given me.


    Now that we were out in the daylight, I got to take a better look at it. The front of the card had the design of a pin-up mask wearing a top hat. The back of it had an address: Rosa''s public house. 1521 Ursus Lane.


    Old Elsa''s memories didn''t help much with what was written on the card. Neither did Lily know anything about it. So we asked around where this place was.


    The citizens of Orowen were just as confused about the existence of such a place. Most of them couldn''t remember any such lane. Or any public house that must''ve been owned by some Rosa.


    The one who gave us the address was an old man who was probably blind and homeless. But that wasn''t even the weirdest thing about it. The thing that stumped both Lily and I was the act of this man walking up to us unprompted and telling us to take the downtown tram. ¡°She used to run that place,¡± he said, ¡°ran it until it burned and she burned inside it.¡± And he walked off.


    Lily''s forehead creased and her eyebrows came together. We watched the man as he disappeared around the corner.


    ¡°I don''t get a good feeling about this, Miss Elsa.¡± She pushed her glasses higher on her nose.


    She wasn''t the only one who felt that way. ¡°We should talk to Madam Smokwell,¡± I said.


    ****


    The cat¡¯s face was as deadpan as ever. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°You aren''t going there.¡±


    ¡°I can''t find any traces of enchantments but I would be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t at least a bit curious to see the mentioned place,¡± Asmod said as he examined the card, running his keen eye over every edge, surface and corner and spending even longer on the ink that was used to print on the card.


    ¡°You know how the saying goes, Asmod,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°The old adage about death.¡±


    ¡°Curiosity killed the cat?¡± Lily said.


    ¡°No. The one about listening to mumbling blind men and getting ambushed and executed by the Internal Police,¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°Can''t say I''ve heard that one.¡± Asmod scratched his bald head.


    The cat shook her head. ¡°It doesn''t matter if you''ve heard it. That card has death written all over it. And you.¡± She pointed a paw at Lily and I. ¡°You two have ¡®suicidal idiots¡¯ written all over your faces. Why would you even suggest going to a place like that?¡±


    ¡°Because the blind man said that thing about burning,¡± I said. ¡°And we still haven''t encountered the fire omen that you showed. Neither have we encountered the hammer omen.¡±


    ¡°Except we did,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°Hopper used the candle in his apartment to burn the sealing wax he put on his report. The hammer omen was the judge''s mallet that came down when you both were put in the clear.¡±


    ¡°But what if those weren''t the things that the omens were pointing towards?¡± I asked. ¡°We thought the urn was a symbol of death while it was literally pointing towards another urn. What if this time the candle wasn''t leading us towards a literal candle but¨C?¡±


    ¡°Execution?¡± Asmod said. All eyes turned to the short man. He shrugged. ¡°This might very well be a trap. Maybe Hopper is trying to lure you into a sensitive situation to arrest you at the right moment. He is still the witch hunter general.¡±


    ¡°He isn''t,¡± Lily said. ¡°He said he resigned.¡±


    ¡°And you believe him?¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°I don''t. But I want to see what this is all about,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe he wants to make some kind of arrangement? All I know is that he is aware of the knife test being idiotic. And I don''t want him to use that to get our names back on the list.¡±


    ¡°If that ends up happening then the Inquisition will be after us again,¡± Lily said. ¡°And then the candle omen will turn out to be a symbol for fire they will burn us in.¡±


    ¡°If we can change the cause and effect then why not do it now rather than wait for the future to become something bleak?¡± I said.


    The cat glared at me. Asmod looked hesitant. Then Smokewell shook her head and brought her paw up to her nose, rubbing it anxiously. ¡°I can''t believe I''m agreeing to this,¡± she muttered. ¡°I swear, if you two get caught I''m not going to rescue you.¡±

 21. Rosas public house

    "Before we go, there''s something I need from you." I turned to Lily. "I want to see one of your potion bottles."


    Lily brought over her hefty suitcase and pulled out a little wooden box. There were leather slots stitched into the inside of the box to hold the vials and bottles, containing liquids of all different colors and viscosity. I scanned every bottle carefully, trying to access the information that old Elsa''s memories had on them.


    I learnt none of those bottles were all that special. "Do you have more spare bottles like these?" I asked.


    Lily looked puzzled. "Just empty bottles?"


    "No, the bottles lined with azure varnish," I said. The varnish was what allowed basic containers to hold magical contents. "And I want at least three of these."


    Lily obliged with my request and I thanked her for it. Then I turned to Smokewell and Asmod and said, "You all can head over to the tram stop, I''ll meet you there." I said as I slipped the bottles along with my knife and hexonomicon in my reticule.


    "Where are you going?" Smokewell asked.


    "I have to test something," I said as I left the apartment.


    ****


    It took me about half an hour to carry out my experiments, but I was glad at least nothing drastic happened. I met up with them at the stop as we''d decided.


    "What even took you so long?" Smokewell asked.


    I just gave a coy little smile and remained quiet.


    "Miss Elsa, why is there mud on your skirt," Lily said.


    "Let''s just say that I succeeded in what I was hoping for," I said as I kept smiling.


    The tram ride to downtown was fairly peaceful. But I could tell Smokewell had to make an effort to keep her mouth shut most of the way. Her tail kept twitching back and forth anxiously and she made quiet grumbling noises that managed to attract a few curious stares from the fellow passengers.


    After boarding off, we asked around for directions to the Ursus Lane. We had to walk through two market streets and several high brow stores to get to our destination. I got a strange feeling as we made our way down the roads. The blind man had said the public house had been burned. But it was still in a place as busy as the downtown of Orowen.


    "It''s cursed, isn''t it?" Lily said, voicing the question that was swirling in my mind.


    "I wouldn''t rule out the possibility," Asmod said.


    "If we are really going to take a blind man at his words, then yes, the place might be cursed," Smokwell said after hopping onto Lily''s shoulder. "If it hadn''t been cursed, someone would''ve broken it down and built something new in its place."


    I couldn''t help but frown. If it really was where the blind man said, then the curse was probably real and not just some rumor. "I''m wondering why didn''t anyone come to cleanse it? Any witches in particular," I said.


    "Probably because someone is benefitting from letting the hex remain on the property," Smokewell said. "Or maybe the local regulated coven is too incompetent to handle hexes. Not everyone is going to be a gifted genius." She raised her nose to the sky with an almost aristocratic arrogance.


    I shook my head. Asmod, who was leading our little party, came to a halt. So did the rest of us. We''d arrived at the public house.


    And it wasn''t a surprise why anyone hadn''t dared to destroy the property. The concrete walls were cracked and bare but their bases still had a charred look to them. Whatever windows remained were either broken or coated with dust. Half of the roof had crumbled away. And the door at the front entrance was a blasted piece of wood, dangling from a rusty hinge. An equally rusty metal sign hung from a rod. It simply read: Rosa''s House.


    I looked around, scanning the up and down of the street, observed a few pedestrians who passed us by. No one met my gaze with their own, they didn''t seem interested to.  It didn''t feel like anyone was watching us. The air outside the ruined building certainly felt more foreboding but it didn''t feel like we were about to get ambushed. But the question still remained evident in our heads.


    "Of all the places in Orowen, why this one?" Lily asked.


    "It''s just very convenient," a man said behind me. It was Hopper.


    I almost jumped at his sudden appearance.


    "I was convinced you weren''t going to come," he said, walking ahead of us and by the entrance of the ruined public house. He was dressed quite formally--in a three piece double breasted suit, a pair of white gloves, a pair of brogues, a walking cane and a top hat. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "We almost didn''t, trust me," I said and gripped the strap of my reticule a bit tighter, reminding myself I still had those bottles with me. It gave me some confidence I didn''t know I needed.


    "We weren''t going to, but you know how that old saying about curiosity goes." Lily shrugged.


    "The one where it kills the cat?" Hopper said with a small grin.


    "No, the one where the Witch hunter General gets his butt whipped for interfering where he isn''t needed," she said.


    Hopper''s grin vanished. "I haven''t heard of that one."


    "I think we are digressing," Asmod said. "Now that we are here, shall we proceed?"


    Hopper looked at the little man as if he was noticing him for the first time (which he probably was). "I agree with the gentleman." He tipped his hat at Asmod and then he turned to lead us into the public house, "Shall we?"


    My grip on the reticule turned tighter, "Why do you want us to come inside?"


    "For privacy, you know?" he said, his grin had returned. "I would rather discuss the matter at hand while we are far away from prying ears."


    I turned to look at my companions. Lily didn''t look even slightly scared, Smokwell was a bit wary but a restrained feral glare swirled within her eyes. Asmod looked at the dark entrance with a careful expression. They all looked at me and I gave a nod. Then we followed Hopper inside.


    Rosa''s House was as desolate from the inside as it was from the outside. Tables and chairs lay in a burnt and dusty mess, rats and lizards slithered in the shadows. The only thing intact was the counter at the far end of the big chamber. Hopper walked around as if he had been there a dozen times, as if he owned the place.


    He certainly didn''t seem to sense (or just didn''t care) what the rest of us could. There was a heavy sulfuric stench in the air. My instincts told me that this was what an accursed territory smelled like. Maybe that was also the reason why I felt like other than the five of us, there was a sixth person present in the public house.


    Hopper kept his walk just as casual as before and stepped behind the counter. "Let''s cut to the chase," he said as he lit a single candle that had been sitting on the countertop. "The green blood theory being false, I''m sure, that''s the main reason why you came here." He looked up from the candle flame and at each of our faces. "Ignoring the threat of an ambush."


    Before I could answer Lily said, "Your threats are as weak as the walls of this place. We are free people now. There is no case you can use against us."


    Hopper raised his hands. "I don''t intend to. Unless you leave me no choice, of course."


    "I''m asking again," I said, "What do you want?"


    After a short pause he said, "I want you to help me rescue someone."


    "Why us?" I asked.


    "Because, you have the talents I need for my little mission," he said.


    "The last time I heard someone say that to me I found myself in quite a bit of trouble," I said.


    "I''m glad to know that you have prior experience for things like these," he said.


    "What''s in it for us?" Lily asked.


    "You don''t get arrested," Hopper said. Then he laughed. "I''m kidding, that''s just half of it. There is a prize for you at the end of it. For all of you. If you succeed, you''ll be quite happy with your reward."


    "Didn''t you say you just resigned?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "It''s not like you can actually get us arrested."


    "The ink on my resignation letter is still warm," he said. "And I was the general of the witch hunter division. My word is still going to carry more weight than any of yours."


    "Even if you go and tell them the truth about the knife test, aren''t they going to hold you accountable for all the executions you carried out previously?" Lily said.


    "They will. I''ll be thrown in the jail for my deeds," he said and then he smiled a ghastly smile against the candlelight, "But, I''ll take you all with me. Even the written confession that you provided can be proved to be forged."


    For a moment, no one said anything. For a moment, I could hear the searing thread of the candlewick that was burning.


    "Who is this person you want us to rescue?" Smokewell said, hopping up on the counter.


    Hopper gave a small smile and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it and laid it next to the candle. "He was arrested in Orowen before they transported him to the Pallport Penitentiary. His name is William Hammer."


    The man''s last name hadn''t gone unnoticed to me or my companions.


    "Why does he matter to you?" Asmod asked.


    "You see, he belongs to quite a prestigious family in Stonebarrow city." Hopper ran a gloved hand over the sleeve of his coat. "He had been living under an alias when he was arrested. So no one knows of his origin except for me and a few others. His family is going to pay quite handsomely to anyone who brings him back." He smiled at each of us.


    ¡°How handsome are we talking about?¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°About thirty thousand steambolts,¡± Hopper said.


    The number was followed by a silence. I could tell by the looks on everyone''s face--they were trying very hard not to drool.


    "Yes, we all like the shine of a bag full of steambolts, but why are you after this man? You want some extra money for your retirement?" I said.


    Hopper nodded. "You can say that."


    I pulled all my companions aside in a huddle. "Just so we all are on the same page¨C"


    "Yes," Smokewell interrupted. "We are taking up the job. I''ll drag that man out of the depths of hell just to buy a house with a room of my own."


    "I wouldn''t mind adding some new furnishings to my Nook," Asmod said. "Actual furnishings. No enchanted fa?ade."


    "I want to eat the barbecued basilisk in Volcano Lane!" Lily hopped up and down.


    I couldn''t help but grin at their enthusiasm. "Well, until we find a safe way to sell off those bones, this might be our chance to get some real income for now."


    We turned back to Hopper. "We''re in!"

 22. Prison in Pallport

    Pallport city was two hundred miles from Orowen if we were to take the road. And the ticket for the air carriage was expensive enough to buy us all meals for a week. So we took the cheapest route--the steamboat that was travelling via the Fallstone river. Since Lily and I had our gear with us, we left for the port with Hopper right away. By half past seven in the evening, we were on the boat.


    The vessel was as big as a two story building, made of steel plates and wrought iron rivets. Just behind the foremast was a thick frosted glass cabin filled with blue steam that writhed in ghostly shapes. Exhaust pipes ran out of the glass chamber, emitting the steam that propelled the boat forward.


    We took our seat in one of the benches in a quiet corner. As we sailed further from the shore, the captain pulled out a whistle from his coat and blew into it. That meant  we were out of sight of the shore.


    Smokewell got on my lap and pulled out her ivory pipe. She turned to Asmod who was next to me. ¡°Can I get a light?¡± she said.


    I held back a groan and took the pipe from her. The cat glared daggers at me. ¡°Not here,¡± I muttered to her, gesturing to the other passengers who had snuck a glance at the cat when she pulled out the pipe. ¡°And keep your mouth shut. The only thing weirder than a cat that talks is a cat that smokes opium.¡±


    Smokwell narrowed her eyes at me before turning to Asmod again. ¡°How long is the journey?¡± she said.


    ¡°About three hours,¡± the man said.


    Smokwell gave a quiet hiss and hopped onto Lily''s lap, making herself comfortable before closing her eyes. I let out a sigh and slid the pipe into my satchel.


    Then I noticed Hopper who was shuffling in his spot next to me. I expected him to be nervous, sitting alongside a bunch of witches. But it was a surprise to find him sitting cross-legged, his gloved hands resting calmly on his walking cane. His leather hold-all (that he had pulled out from under the counter at Rosa''s House) was next to his foot.


    For someone who was rumored to be genuinely scared of witchcraft he was quite relaxed. And that reminded me something else¨Creminded me of the way he had carried himself at Rosa''s House. The place was very obviously cursed, yet he walked around with barely a shred of nervousness.


    ¡°This is not a trap,¡± Hopper said, looking at me from the corner of his eyes. ¡°I know that¡¯s what you are thinking.¡±


    I held back from perking up at his sudden attention. I kept a straight face and looked straight ahead. ¡°I would be lying if I said I wasn''t a little suspicious of your offer.¡±


    ¡°I don''t blame you,¡± he said. ¡°I would be careful of me if I was you. I''m careful even now.¡±


    My eye twitched a little. I couldn''t help but think of what Clyde Desmond''s Abyss had told us. Hopper was supposed to be scared of us. Why was he being this calm? And he had even gone as far as to work with us.


    "I''ll just say it. What''s making you want to offer the job to us?" I asked.


    Hopper leaned ahead on his cane and looked out over the gunwale of the boat as if counting the passing buildings. "Time," he said quietly.


    I felt my eyebrows coming together as I stared at him. "That sounds very cryptic and intriguing, I admit. But it also seems like a blatant attempt to evade my question."


    Hopper''s face remained calm and serious. "The time, Elsa Grimly. The time is changing. The first big change happened when we befriended the Steam Elemental. Yet, that''s not the last big change that this country has seen. A much, much bigger change awaits us," he said, "The happenings that will lead to that change are already in motion. We are one of the pieces that will be making that change happen."


    The frown still hadn''t left my face. I knew I was puzzled and confused but a part of me, for some reason, also felt scared of Hopper.


    ****


    We arrived at Pallport around half past eight. Hopper led us away from the docks and paid for a steam carriage to a place none of us had heard of. As I looked out the window, the difference between this city and Orowen was quite obvious. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Where the latter was a hybrid of stainless steel and concrete, Pallport on the other hand seemed to be just bricks and wrought iron¨Cmaking it look a bit more foreboding and the density of architecture gave everything a lot more claustrophobic feel. The one thing that was visibly common between both the cities, however, was the steam.


    There were almost double the numbers of carriages running down the roads. Not just for passengers but also cargoes. The sidewalks were also bustling with people (your regular homo sapiens alongside those who obviously weren''t the same species). And they looked like they were either on their way home or to a sleepless graveyard shift at whatever work that paid them.


    That realization came as a prelude to something else that I noticed about the city--there weren''t as many independent businesses as there were in Orowen. Pallport looked like the home of factories. And it was to a degree that I felt convinced that if I flung a brick without taking an aim, I¡¯ll probably end up shattering some industry window.


    We got off at a street that was just as crowded as the others we had passed by. As the carriage drove away, Hopper led us inside an apartment building and up the stairs straight to the roof.


    He locked the door behind us as we entered and set his hold-all down on the floor. He walked over to the edge of the roof and took in the sight of the city where commerce and steam throbbed within its urban heart.


    I decided to bring up the question that had been gnawing at me. ¡°Let''s just say we succeed in breaking out Hammer, have you considered how we are going to get away with him?¡±


    ¡°He is going to leave that part to us,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°That¡¯s why he brought us along. So we can deal with the tricky parts.¡±


    ¡°The cat is certainly smart,¡± Hopper said, looking at us over his shoulder.


    Asmod scratched his chin. ¡°While I can''t really turn the people completely invisible but there''s something that I brought along that can help.¡± He dug into his pouch and pulled out a mask that looked like it was made of paper but had an unnatural shine to it. With a pen that had a brush on its tip, he made a symbol on the front of the mask and handed it to Lily.


    The girl shrugged and put on the mask. I frowned. Because the mask disappeared. And Lily''s face had been switched with a woman whom I didn''t know.


    ¡°The symbol will trigger a memory of a face you saw in a crowd and the mask will appear like that face,¡± Asmod said.


    Lily took off the mask and her face was back. ¡°Wow!¡± she said looking at the mask.


    ¡°Unfortunately, I can''t make them look a certain way,¡± he said. ¡°We won''t appear like prison guards to the other guards.¡±


    ¡°This is still more than helpful,¡± I said. ¡°We can give one of those masks to Hammer to hide his face. Now how are we actually going to break them out? That''s still your job to explain, Hopper.¡±


    Hopper gave a quiet nod and pointed a gloved finger at a building a couple of blocks away from us. I noticed the pointy spire above the gate archway. ¡°That''s the prison,¡± he said. ¡°We''ll go in there, wearing our disguise. I know the way to the cell where they have kept Hammer. I''ll lead you to him. We bring him out, put a mask on him. Then we escape.¡±


    ¡°Okay, you make it sound too simple,¡± Asmod said. ¡°What about the guards?¡±


    ¡°I can use one of my familiars to keep them at bay,¡± Lily said.


    ¡°What about the gates?¡± Asmod said.


    ¡°I''ll take care of the gates,¡± Hopper said.


    ¡°And if things get dire, Grimly and I will use our powers as a last resort,¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°Yeah, Miss Elsa can just squash the enemies with one of her Abyssal servants,¡± Lily said.


    I swallowed hard and gripped my reticule tighter, remembering the bottles I''d borrowed from Lily and the contents inside them. ¡°Let''s hope it doesn''t come to that.¡± I said.


    ****


    We walked our way to the prison, heads down, even though our faces were hidden behind Asmod''s enchanted masks. We came to a halt on the street opposite to the main gate. Uncertainty drummed within me.


    ¡°You were going to handle the gate,¡± Lily said, turning to Hopper.


    The man lifted his head, tipped back his hat and pulled out a glinting stainless steel pistol from his coat pocket. He aimed at the gate. My eyes went wide. Asmod''s jaw went slack. Smokewell whistled as she took in the shine of the weapon.


    Hopper pulled the trigger.


    What came out of the gun wasn''t what I expected. It was a bar of neon green energy, fizzing with electricity. It hit the thick iron gate and made the kind of sound that lightning would''ve made if it struck the thing instead. For a moment, there was a brilliant flash of light, like the sun was taking a peek at the earth for a moment and then there was darkness.


    We had to squint our eyes for a few minutes before vision came back to us. Then the alarms were going off and people were running around, screaming.


    As for the gate¡­there were a few scraps of burnt metal sticking at jagged angles from the hinges in the archway. And a curtain of smoke was hovering in its place.


    Hopper slid the gun back into his coat and adjusted the hat on his head again. ¡°Hammer is in the third wing of the prison,¡± he said. ¡°Let''s go and get him now.¡±

 23. Hammer

    "Good luck," Smokewell said, hopping onto Asmod''s shoulder before the man rushed off, mixing into the crowd of fleeing pedestrians. They were going to keep a lookout on the outside while Hopper, Lily and I went in to get Hammer.


    Lily pulled out a card from her pocket and summoned the big direwolf. The three of us hopped onto its back and the beast took off, maneuvering through the frantic crowd and bounding through the burnt gates of the prison.


    The alarms started going off within the facility, the prison guards were rushing out with their guns and taking aims. Lily was the one steering the wolf. "Hold tight!" she snapped at us and pulled at the right side of the creature''s fur. The wolf turned before one of the guards'' rifle bullets struck him.


    Lily pushed her glasses further up on her nose. A golden tint came over the lenses. And the next thing I knew, she was guiding the beast as if it was a limb attached to her own body, deftly weaving our path through the flying projectiles.


    "Try not to kill any of the guards," Hopper yelled behind me.


    "I don''t plan to," Lily yelled back as the wolf took off into the air when another bullet flew at it. The beast landed heavily onto the guard that had fired the gun. There was a loud wet crunch like a boulder dropping into a muddy pit and a fountain of red spurted around. "I might''ve guided the wolf slightly wrong," she said sheepishly.


    "I told you to keep the guard casualties to a minimum!" Hopper yelled again. "We''re not here to kill!"


    "Just tell me which way we were supposed to go again!" Lily yelled.


    "It''s the C-Wing! To the east!" Hopper yelled.


    Lily steered the wolf eastward. Now the flurry of bullets were even more frenzied. The guards kept trying to kneecap the creature but it was swift as the wind. We entered one of the prison buildings.


    Hopper pulled out his gun and pushed a pin that was on its side. Something clicked inside the weapon. He aimed at the entrance behind us and pulled the trigger. A wall of flames erupted in the guards'' way just before they could follow us through the hallway. "That might buy us some time," Hopper said.


    I dug into my satchel and pulled out of the bottles I''d borrowed from Lily. A dark substance was swirling within. I pulled off the cork on the bottle''s mouth. Black mist rushed out of the container and floated right next to us, keeping up with the wolf as it carried us down the long hallway.


    The black mist materialized into the shape of a man. He gave me a subservient nod, as if waiting for my command.


    "It''s time to do your job!" I snapped at the Abyssal being. "Fly ahead of us and keep alerting me of any obstacles that come our way."


    The man gave another nod before he turned back into a ball of black mist and whizzed right ahead of us.


    "What is that thing?!" Hopper yelled behind me.


    Before I could say anything Lily yelled, "Which way to go next?!" We were coming up to the end of the hallway which cut in two opposite directions.


    "The corridor on the right," Hopper yelled back.


    "No, there are guards coming from that side," I said when I heard the abyssal being''s voice in my head, alerting me of the danger.


    "To the left then," Lily said and steered the wolf the other way.


    Hopper grabbed onto his top hat as the beast took a hard left. Guards were storming in from the right. Hopper shot another screen of fire behind us to throw off the men in pursuit. "We need to get to the C-Wing before its too late. I only have three more fire-screen bullets left," he said.


    "Where to next?" Lily cried out.


    "We''ll have to jump out that window over there and get to the courtyard on the other side." Hopper pointed at one of the tall bay windows at the end of the corridor. He fished another gun out of his coat. This looked more like a regular pistol. He was about to fire at the window when the wolf shrieked in pain and Lily was shrieking along with it.


    The beast tumbled ahead, disappearing mid air in a floury mist and the three of us slammed onto the ground.


    "Whatever happened to that creature?" Hopper said as he stood up and straightened his jacket. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Lily was still on the ground, groaning in pain and clutching her ankle. An arrow lay a few feet away from her. She looked at it and grit her teeth. "Someone managed to buck Pearl in the ankle." She rose to her feet and stomped down on the arrow, snapping it in half.


    I suddenly remembered Lily''s familiar''s were made of flour, so the arrowhead wasn''t stained with any blood.


    "Can''t you summon the beast again?" Hopper asked as he led us to the bay window.


    "Can''t. My wrath reserve is currently busy healing me," Lily said as she followed with a limp.


    "Wrath?" Hopper asked.


    "No time to go into details. I''ll just say that when my familiars take damage, they are significantly weakened by the impact. It will take at least fifteen more minutes before I can summon one of them again," Lily said.


    Hopper grimaced. ¡°Is your leg hurting?¡±


    "A bit. But don''t worry, I won''t slow you down."


    The man nodded before retrieving his pistol and firing at the window. The glass shattered but I heard the Abyss''s voice in my head. I sprang forth and tackled Hopper and Lily to the floor and away from the window.


    ¡°What in the¨C¡± Hopper stopped in the middle of his curse when he noticed a cluster of arrows flying in through the window.


    The abyssal being I had released from the bottle appeared from the broken window. ¡°At least two dozen guards are waiting outside in the courtyard, master,¡± he said. ¡°It''s dangerous out there.¡±


    The hallway we were in didn¡¯t have a door to any other room. Nor were there any other windows. I looked at Hopper. ¡°Now what?¡±


    The man frowned deeply. But he didn''t get a chance to come up with a plan. The screen of fire he had shot in the hallway behind us suddenly disappeared. Around ten gun wielding guards walked through.


    The three of us took a hesitant step back. ¡°Uh, I think we need to reconsider our strategy,¡± Lily said.


    My abyssal servant was still hovering in the air behind me.


    The guards trained their guns on us. ¡°You are under arrest for trespassing on government property!¡± one of them declared in a heavy baritone.


    ¡°Hopper,¡± I whispered. ¡°Use that fire-screen bullet. Now.¡±


    ¡°Put your weapons down,¡± the guard said, aiming his pistol at us.


    Hopper nodded and stepped forward and reached into his coat. The guards watched him with vigilant eyes. ¡°I''m putting my weapon down,¡± he said as he pulled out his gun and crouched low. When its muzzle was just a few feet off the ground. He pulled the trigger. The cartridge exploded on the floor and another wall of fire rose between us and the guards.


    I didn''t waste any time to whip out my ritual knife. I carved a pentacle on the ground and a broken chain at its centre. While chanting the dismantling spell, I plucked a couple of my hair and laid it on the five headed star. Since I hadn''t cleansed the ritual area with a broom, the impurities in the surface exerted a force against the force of the ritual. I could feel it within me as my teeth rattled slightly in their gums.


    The ground cracked and crumbled under our feet. ¡°Brace yourselves!¡± I said as the three of us fell through with two hundred pounds of brick and mortar on the lower floor.


    The room that we landed in seemed to be the warden''s office. The chunks of roof fell on top of the desk, shattering it instantly. I certainly felt the pain of the fall in my back. Hopper and Lily felt the same--it was evident from their grimaces. But there was no time to sit and moan.


    I scrambled up to my feet and helped them up too. Then I reached into the pocket of my skirt and produced a small glass ball filled with a translucent blue liquid.


    Asmod had given it to us in case there was an emergency. There was a small label on the ball that read: ocean orb.


    I heard the footsteps of the guards converging towards us from the hallway outside the office. And from the roof above us. The door to the office was thrown open. Guards were rushing in.


    Lily hurled the ball at the floor, smashing the glass and splashing the blue liquid onto the floor. A colorless mist rose from the liquid. Its sickly sweet odor quickly spread throughout the room. It wasn''t going to affect the three of us, though.


    The guards paused, their faces pale with horror and they all screamed and crouched low with their hands over their heads. Some of them tried rushing away.


    Hopper pulled out his pistol and shot at another window. We climbed out and into the garden outside. The sweet scent of the blue liquid followed us out. The guards who had been loosing their arrows at us got a whiff of its scent and they gave the same shocked and horrified reaction as the guards who had come to the warden''s office.


    We kept running as Hopper led us to the holding cells. The blue liquid in the glass ball was one of Asmod''s enchanted inks. It evaporated faster than rubbing alcohol and gave off the odor that affected the unguarded senses in an intense manner.


    As soon as the guards caught a whiff of the ink''s smell the first thing they saw was a huge tidal wave, moving towards them like a divine flood. As long as the scent was in their nostrils, they would keep seeing the ocean.


    The smell didn''t affect us because of the masks that we were wearing.


    So while the guards were distracted we made a dash for the C-Wing and once were inside, we came to a halt in front of a particular cell.


    The room didn''t have any lights so it was engulfed in shadows. All we could see were the iron bars of the cell door and nothing else. Hopper leaned forward and said, ¡°William Hammer, it''s time to go home.¡±

 24. Do we finally get rich now?

    "How do you know my real name?" said a voice from the dark shadow in the cell.


    "There''s no time to explain," Lily said as she stepped forward and grabbed at one of the bars of the cell door in a death grip, she pulled with terrifying strength. Her face was twisted with anger and her jaw was clenched. The metal groaned in her hold, veins popped on her forearm. And I could see a clear bulge forming under her sleeve. Then something inside the lock of the cell door snapped and whimpered before Lily yanked it open.


    A man stepped out of the shadow. He was slightly taller than Hopper and had dark brown hair and a thick beard of the same color. He was slender and slightly slouched in his moleskin jacket and trousers. Hopper took off his jacket and gave it to the man. "Put this on, good sir," he said. "We wouldn''t want to have the pedestrians report a man dressed like a convict walking around the city."


    Hammer still looked quite puzzled and a bit baffled with the entire situation but didn''t question Hopper''s reasoning. He put on the jacket that the man offered and looked at the rest of us.


    Lily''s wrath reserve seemed to have been restored by then, she pulled out a card from her pocket and summoned the massive frog. We got on the creature''s back before she made the large amphibian leap right up to the roof of the C-wing prison building. The next leap that the frog made, took us past the perimeter wall of the prison.


    Fortunately there was no one around while we landed. So no one saw four people getting off a big frog before making the creature disappear and walking off into a dark alleyway.


    Hammer was still visibly perplexed by the sequence of events that had just unfolded. I felt lucky since I had gotten used to the weirdness of this world and this new life quite quickly. Hammer had probably been part of a bit more conventional side of reality. So, his brain was still busy processing everything.


    When we arrived in the back alley, Asmod and Smokewell were already waiting for us by the cul-de sac at its end.


    "I''m surprised it was quicker than expected," the cat said, smoking on her pipe.


    "I hope no one followed you all?" Asmod said as he handed Hopper''s hold all back to him.


    "I''m positive that no one did," Hopper said and opened his bag. He pulled out a long coat from within and held it towards Hammer. "Put this on, good sir."


    Hammer absently took the coat, his eyes were intent on the black cat that was taking another leisurely puff of opium from her pipe. The befuddled look still hadn''t left his face. But he decided to remain quiet. After he put on the coat, Asmod offered him an enchanted mask to hide his real face. The rest of us took off our masks to reveal our real faces.


    Then with a sigh or relief we left the alley and walked back into the street, blending into the crowd of pedestrians. In a silent, secretive voice, Hammer said, "Um, can anyone tell me what really happened just now?"


    "You became a free man, Mr. Hammer," Hopper said. "That''s what happened."


    ****


    We took a tram to the dockyard and once we got off, Lily brought up the matter of everyone''s interest. "So, are we getting paid now?"


    "Not yet," Hopper said. "There''s some time for that."


    "You still haven''t told me what''s going on," Hammer said.


    "We did. Also, can''t you figure out what''s going on?" I said.


    "Yes, yes I get it. I''m free now," Hammer said. "But why? Why me? And why does this man know my real name? I wasn''t even arrested under my real name."


    I frowned when the rescued inmate brought this up. Now this was something suspicious. If he really was arrested when he was living under an alias, he could''ve simply used his real name to escape the law enforcement. Why had he let himself get arrested and serve his sentence? Also, why did he even need an alias in the first place?


    That made me wonder if there even was a payment waiting for us at the end of this thing. I couldn''t help but feel like Hopper had tricked us in some way. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I''ll answer all your questions," Hopper said as he led us towards a steamboat. "But first we need to leave the city before the Internal Police calls for any kind of help."


    ****


    We took the steamboat to Stonebarrow city which was another hundred and eighty miles from Pallport. It was going to be near dawn by the time the boat came ashore. I took a deep breath and organized my thoughts.


    We had succeeded in rescuing Hammer but the man had a wary look on his face and he kept stealing glances at me and my companions suspiciously. But Hopper was the one he kept looking at with narrowed eyes and suppressed scowl.


    Even though the other man seemed fairly unbothered by the attention, it was quite visible that Hopper''s entire demeanor had gotten more guarded since we had sailed off from Pallport. I readjusted my satchel on my lap. I had two more bottles of Abyssal beings I''d collected from the graveyard. I''d liberated the one that I''d used at the prison soon after he had served his purpose. I felt a bit reassured that I still had two left.


    And besides that, I''d learned certain valuable things about the liberation ritual. Firstly, I learned that I could contain them after separating them from their source. In order to do that I had to make a single job deal with them--in this case I''d asked the abyss to wait inside the bottle until I asked them to come out and do what I asked them. And I would only ask them to do one thing and after that I won''t make them go inside the bottle again.


    Secondly, the abyssal beings had their full physical forms because I had extracted them from the corpse itself and not a personal belonging. I still had the theory that maybe I could extract abysses from a single remain of the corpse and not the entire thing. Maybe the resulting abyss might be weak but that was still just speculation. What I was certain about, however, was the fact that I could extract an abyss that had a full body by committing the ritual on their corpse. And they were capable of some semi-impressive feats. The abyss that had been guiding me was like a ghost that could fly at super speed and was capable of turning invisible.


    The last thing that I learned was that I could command them mentally. So the liberation ritual probably connected the abyss with me temporarily until they finished a job for me. I could hear their voices and communicate with them telepathically. That had also allowed me to set them free even though we weren''t face-to-face with each other.


    I pulled out my journal and noted these things briefly. Later, I would transcribe them in my hexonomicon. The act of writing makes a witch''s capability to carry out that ritual much stronger. And I wanted to master the liberation ritual. Once this was all over, I would go back to studying other rituals in my hexonomicon and sorting through Old Elsa''s other memories. I made a brief note of that too and closed the journal.


    Then I leaned back on the bench and looked up at the stars as we kept sailing.


    A few hours passed. Conversation was minimal. When the night grew colder, Hammer spoke up. "I finally remember who you are." He was regarding Hopper with a piercing gaze.


    "Took you long enough," Hopper said, tipping back his top hat.


    "I wanted to make sure you were whom I thought you were," Hammer said. "And if you remember me as well as I do you, then you know that I think everything a lot more objectively than you or the people you work for."


    Hopper was silent for a while. Smokewell, who had been asleep on Lily''s lap opened her eyes with a snap as if she hadn''t been asleep at all. Asmod and Lily were throwing a curious stare at the two men.


    "For your information, I don''t work for them anymore, Mr. Hammer," Hopper said.


    Hammer scoffed. "That''s rich, did you finally learn that they were all just a bunch of dim-witted buffoons?"


    "I learned that and something a bit more unsettling. One of the reasons why I resigned." He looked at Hammer and held his gaze. "That''s why I decided to come and rescue you."


    Hammer scowled at the man. "If you think I believe that you came to rescue me out of guilt then you are still as dim-witted as you were back then. I know this boat is headed for Stonebarrow. My bloody home. I''m certain my family is offering some kind of reward for anyone who brings me back."


    "Okay wait a moment now." I interrupted with a wave of my hand. "Would you mind telling us what is going on?"


    Hammer looked at me with the face of a man who had just had a glass of fine wine only to realize someone had taken a piss in it. "This man didn''t tell you why he brought you along?" he said. My oblivious expression was enough to answer his question. "I figured that much. Well, for starters, I''ll tell you that this man, who just helped me get out of prison, is the same man who had arrested me."


    I raised an eyebrow. Lily''s mouth was agape. Smokewell and Asmod were still curious but obviously intrigued.


    "Why was that, Mr. Hopper?" Lily asked.


    Hopper''s eyes narrowed. He glanced at the other passengers before speaking in careful voice. "Our friend William Hammer here had gained quite some notoriety," he said. "He was on the Inquisition''s watchlist. He was trying to prove the green blood theory was false. I had to do my duty and arrest him for his heretical thinking and his aim of trying to propagate such thinking."


    That made my head spin for a second. I looked at Hammer. "I think you would find it interesting to know that now Hopper has admitted that the green blood theory is false."


    From the look on Hammer''s face, it was obvious that his head was spinning too now.


    Then all eyes turned to Hopper. Asmod leaned ahead and asked the question that each of us had in our mind: "What are you even playing at, Hopper?"

 25. Hoppers plan

    "Not now," Hopper said. "I''ll tell you once we reach Stonebarrow."


    "I refuse to put up with your lies." Hammer stood up from the bench. "I know you are going to take me back to my family estate for whatever reward they are offering."


    "You are quite perceptive, aren''t you?" Smokewell said.


    "I''m not playing along anymore, Hopper," Hammer said. "Either you give me some answers right now..."


    I raised an eyebrow. "Or else?"


    Hammer clenched his fists and said, "Or else I''ll jump off the boat."


    "I''ll just dive after you and pull you back out," Lily said, shrugging. "It''s not a good enough threat here, Mr. Hammer. But it doesn''t matter. Tell us why are you throwing a tantrum right now? Don''t you want to go back home to your mum?"


    Hammer glared at the girl. "There''s a reason why I wasn''t living under my family''s last name. It''s because I''d abandoned that damned place myself and I didn''t want anything to do with it now."


    "Why not?" Smokewell asked.


    "It''s none of your damn business." Hammer turned back to Hopper. "Are you going to spill now or not?"


    Hopper remained quiet for a while before looking up. "I wouldn''t risk talking about it now when someone might hear us," he said, gesturing at the other passengers on the boat.


    Hammer''s face was obdurate. He wasn''t going to back off.


    Hopper somehow remained unfazed. And then he said, "The lives you were trying to save are in danger."


    Hammer''s mask of anger and defiance slipped. "You don''t mean--"


    "Yes, Dr. Hammer, I mean just that."


    Hammer''s eyes twitched with uncertainty. "How close to danger are we talking about?"


    "If you don''t come to Stonebarrow with us right now we''ll lose them all," Hopper said.


    That''s when Hammer''s face strained with conflict. It was visible that he didn''t want to believe a word that Hopper said. But he also cared too much about whatever it was that Hopper was hinting at. As for the faces of my companions, I could tell their intrigue had turned into a a wretched curiosity to know the answers.


    Hammer finally gave up his resistance and sank down to the bench again. "When do we reach Stonebarrow?" he asked.


    "Three more hours," Hopper said after glancing at his pocket watch.


    Hammer sighed and leaned his head down until his chin was resting on his chest. He closed his eyes but the strain of his thoughts was still visible on his face. I could tell he wasn''t going to be getting any sleep. I didn''t blame him. And my curiosity got the better of me.


    I finally stood up from the bench and tugged at Hopper''s sleeve. I pulled him towards the big glass chamber within which the blue steam whirled. The noise that came from the box made our voices inaudible to anyone who intended to eavesdrop. I leaned closer to the man and said, "What lives were you talking about?"


    "Hammer knows," he said.


    I narrowed my eyes at him. "I know that you are lying. What beats me is that I can''t tell exactly whom are you lying to."


    "I''ve lied to all of you," Hopper said. "But not with my words."


    There he was talking in riddles again. I was ready to punch him in that smug face of his. He started to walk away when I grabbed onto his sleeve again.


    "This better not be a trap, Hopper," I said. "That thing I did at your apartment might''ve been an illusion. But I''m completely capable of doing much more drastic things."


    "I don''t doubt." Hopper nodded. "That''s why I''m going to keep the promise I made. You''ll be paid once we reach Stonebarrow. Then you can head your own way."


    "But isn''t it Hammer''s family who is going to pay us?" I said. "If Hammer keeps refusing to go home--"


    "He won''t," Hopper said, freeing his sleeve from my grip and readjusted his top hat. "That''s a fact. He won''t refuse once we get to Stonebarrow." And with that said, Hopper walked back to the bench.


    ****


    I didn''t know when I fell asleep. But I woke up when the large exhaust pipe blew a shrill, hot whistle. We arrived at the Stonebarrow dock a few minutes later. And it took us a few more minutes to get off the boat. The dock wasn''t as crowded as the dock at Pallport but the reason for that might''ve been the fact that it was too early in the morning. One thing that I noticed, however, were the large cargo ships that left the dock. And the workers that diligently loaded those ships. And the carriages that brought the cargo. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    If Pallport was the ¡®manufacturer¡¯, Stonebarrow was certainly the ¡®producer¡¯.


    We didn''t waste too much time sightseeing. Hopper hailed the first carriage he saw and we hit the streets. But it would be a lie if I said the ride into the city wasn''t picturesque. Less than a mile from the docks were the farms. Wheat and barley swayed in the gently humming wind. There was a scent of wet soil in the air. We rode while birds sang in the trees like they never had in my previous life.


    Stonebarrow wasn''t quite a city. Coming from Pallport, this place felt more like a suburb. The buildings were much shorter and built more to look like places where people worked and lived rather than something trying to eclipse the skies. The sidewalks also had more room to breathe as you walked. We got off on a street named Piper''s stretch. As I looked at the slowly opening businesses, I got an odd sense of nostalgia.


    Me and my companions followed Hopper down the road while the city around us gave a yawn, rubbed its eyes and got out of bed to start its day. For some reason, walking down the half empty streets with my friends made me feel like a little girl.


    I didn''t mind the feeling (even welcomed it) but I had to remind myself of the situation we were in right now. I looked at Hopper. ¡°Are you finally going to tell us what''s going on?¡± I said. ¡°Or are you waiting for a better time to open your mouth?¡±


    Hopper looked up and around us. Only a few other people were out and about, probably local businessmen on their way to open their shops and dust off the shelves. Then Hopper looked at Hammer. ¡°Why don''t you begin?¡± he said.


    ¡°Why me?¡± Hammer said.


    ¡°You are the reason they came to the prison to help me rescue you.¡±


    Hammer let out a tired sigh. He looked at us and said, ¡°I''ll begin by thanking you since I didn''t do it earlier. As for the explanations, well I know from Hopper when I''d left my family and came to Pallport to carry out my research to disprove the green blood theory.¡±


    ¡°Why were you bothering with it?¡± Smokewell said as she leaped up to Lily''s shoulder.


    ¡°Because I''ve studied natural biology and my research involves understanding the human blood and how it functions,¡± he said. ¡°And while I did that I was a doctor in this very city. Since my family was wealthy and owned several farms here, I was able to pursue such education. When I learned about Hopper and his theory about how witches had green blood, I found it an insult of everything that I''d toiled away to understand and a disregard for humanity itself.¡±


    ¡°You just felt¡­insulted?¡± Lily said. ¡°You didn''t care for the executions they carried out?¡±


    ¡°I was a lot more baffled by the utter stupidity on display,¡± he said. ¡°But yes, even though it was a joke on human intelligence, there was barely any humor in it. People died for no reason. It was nothing but sad.¡± He glared at Hopper again. ¡°You really think you can redeem yourself by just coming to free me?¡±


    ¡°My redemption will come, doctor. Soon,¡± Hopper said. ¡°But don''t let me interrupt your story. Do keep going.¡±


    ¡°When those executions happened, I became a lot more vocal about my studies on the subject of blood to disprove the knife test and the green blood theory,¡± Hammer said, picking up where he''d left off. ¡°But my family didn''t like me speaking up against the Internal Police. We had an ugly fight over it before I left them in a rage and picked up a different identity to keep raising my voice.¡±


    ¡°How exactly did you plan to prove the green blood theory false?¡± Smokewell asked, ¡°I just thought it was a stupid thing the government made up to show the commoners that they were doing their job.¡±


    ¡°It can be proven wrong quite easily,¡± Hammer said. ¡°It''s a condition that I¡¯ve termed as chloro-sanguia. It happens when a sulfur containing compound interacts with human blood, it turns the color of the blood green." Then with a scornful voice he said, "It isn''t because of something dumb like the spirit of darkness biting someone and cursing them."


    "Finally," Smokewell said. "A man with intelligence. If I was still a human, you could certainly have it."


    Hammer gave a bewildered look. "Okay, it''s about time I address this. How is that cat talking? I don''t think it is something even I can explain."


    "We gave her bread," Lily said.


    Hammer gave a thoughtful frown, probably wondering if bread was a code for some elaborate drug that graced the felines with the ability of speech. Poor man, his rational, scientific mind wouldn''t have believed us even if we actually explained what we had done to get the cat to talk. I put a hand on his shoulder and shook my head. "It''s okay, doc. Stick to your blood science. Bread and talking cats are something even we can''t explain in a way to make you understand."


    "Also, I''m not a cat. I''m a cat s¨¬th," Smokewell said.


    "Wait, my mother used to tell me stories about cat s¨¬th," Hammer said. "They are real?"


    "Forget it, doctor," I said. "Life is too short to try and comprehend it all."


    "No wait." Hammer shook his head. "I saw what you did back at the prison. That giant wolf and massive frog and that mask that made me look like someone else...you are all magic users. It is quite obvious but¡­Wow." Hammer gave a silent sigh. "I never thought that I would actually cross paths with someone who practices something that even I can''t explain. Let alone in circumstances like these."


    "Give yourself a break, Mr. Hammer," Lily said, pushing her glasses higher on her nose. "Science isn''t responsible for explaining everything that happens in this world. Even the field that we work in doesn''t answer each and every question we have about reality."


    "Some things do have an explanation," Hopper said. "Such as why they had to send you to prison."


    All eyes turned to the man with the top hat and cane.


    "Wasn''t it because I was saying things that went directly against what the government was proposing?" Hammer said. "Wasn''t it because you all didn''t want to be proven wrong by a mere human?"


    "Oh, if only the truth was that petty. Turns out it was a lot more cold and rational," Hopper said and came to a halt on the sidewalk. We had arrived under a bridge. The wall next to us had a big hand painted illustration of a child smiling and flashing a thumbs up at us. And above his head were big bold letters that read:


    WYNDHAM''S APOTHECARY. ''WE WISH FOR YOUR GOOD HEALTH''.


    "It was them," Hopper said. "They are the ones who have caused so many deaths because of the green blood theory."


    Hammer''s face was pale with shock. "That can''t be true. The Wyndhams have been friends to my family for a long time. They can''t be--"


    "I wouldn''t ask you to trust me on anything else, Hammer. But trust me on this one. Wyndhams are the real criminals here. People who were meant to cure other people''s ailments were the ones who led all those people to die. If you want to save lives, you¡¯ll have to send the Wyndhams to the prison first."

 26. Voice from beyond

    It took some time to convince Hammer about the Wyndhams. But after considering it for a few minutes he was ready to give Hopper''s suggestion the benefit of the doubt. But then Hopper suggested something even more egregious--or at least that''s what it seemed like when we looked at Hammer''s face.


    "Wyndhams aren''t alone in this business. The one who helped them was none other than your own father, Mr. Hammer," Hopper said.


    "What?!" Hammer snapped.


    Now that I think of it, yes, it was indeed egregious.


    "That is preposterous, Hopper!" the man said. "If what you are suggesting about the Wyndhams is true then that would mean..." his voice broke a little before it disappeared. The fear of saying it out loud was evident on Hammer''s face.


    ¡°It would mean your father had a hand in getting you arrested.¡± Hopper took off his top hat and gave him a solemn look of sympathy. "I''m afraid that it might be a possibility."


    Hammer ignored Hopper''s apologetic tone and clenched his fists. ¡°If they wanted me to get arrested then why did they put a reward for finding me?¡± he said. ¡°Your facts aren''t lining up. So tell me why are you saying this? Who told you that they were involved?¡±


    "I''m sorry but I can''t tell you that," Hopper said. His voice was still as calm as before.


    "I don''t care if you aren''t allowed to tell me or not! I want answers, Hopper!" Hammer bared his teeth at the man.


    Hopper regarded the other man with serene eyes and said, "It''s not that I don''t have the permission. It''s just that you won''t believe me even if I told you."


    Surprisingly, Hammer''s anger disappeared in a blink. His fists loosened. "Why wouldn''t I?"


    "You are just that kind of person, Mr. Hammer," Hopper said. "You were the only one raising your voice against the green blood theory when the government declared it. Other people probably found the theory and the knife test as outrageous as you did. Yet it was only you who spoke up and voiced your skepticism. That''s why I brought you back home. So you can see this for yourself and believe it for yourself."


    "Wait a minute," Smokewell said, pointing a paw at the man. "I thought you brought him here so we can get paid."


    "Yes!" Lily said. "If what you said is true, then Hammer''s family can get arrested. Who will pay us then?"


    "Precisely," Asmod spoke up as well. "What''s the point of making the girls risk their lives to break Hammer out of the prison in the first place?"


    Hopper looked at me and said, "I told you that you''ll get paid. I wasn''t lying. The four of you can escort Mr. Hammer back to his residence and claim that you brought him with you for the reward. Mr. Hammer can insist on his father to pay you in cash right there and you can be on your way. We''ll be done then."


    "What about you?" I said, cocking my head. "Didn''t you say that you were after the reward money yourself."


    "Well, I lied." Hopper shrugged. "You made it obvious that money was the language you all understood so I just spoke your tongue. I made it look like we had a shared common interest in this. And it drew you all in."


    ¡°You sneaky bastard,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°I can¡¯t believe someone managed to fool me.¡±


    ¡°Your cat brain is making you dumber,¡± Lily said.


    Smokewell looked ready to claw the girl in her face.


    Hopper ignored them and said, ¡°But your job here is done. You can go and ask the Hammer family for your reward.¡±


    Smokewell sighed in relief and turned to Hammer. ¡°Shall we get going now? I have to get a hold of some coin from your parents.¡±


    ¡°You should probably keep your mouth shut in front of them, Madam,¡± Lily said.


    Hammer looked exasperated but gave a nod. He looked at Hopper with a wary look and said, ¡°Aren''t you coming along?¡±


    Hopper shook his head. ¡°I have to take care of something important. But I¡¯ll meet up with you before evening.¡±


    Listening to the exchange, I decided to interrupt. ¡°I''m going with Hopper,¡± I said.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    My companions gazes turned to me. ¡°What is this about?¡± Asmod said.


    ¡°Let''s not waste our time here. You should go with Mr. Hammer to his family''s place. I''ll meet with you at the docks,¡± I said.


    Asmod looked suspicious. Lily was puzzled. Smokewell was visibly annoyed. But we parted ways under the bridge.


    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Hopper said after we turned a corner in the street.


    I remained quiet for some time. I was thinking. I could tell my silence was making Hopper more tense. We walked quietly for a while before I decided to speak. ¡°Let''s ditch the charade now,¡± I said. ¡°You aren''t the real Lloyd Hopper, are you?¡±


    That gave him a pause. The man came to a halt in his steps. I was standing behind him, staring holes into his back. ¡°Why do you think that?¡± he said.


    ¡°Because you don''t seem anything like you were back at your apartment.¡± I shook my head. ¡°When we invaded your house, you were pathetic and afraid. But now you seem quite cunning and intelligent. People had an impression that you were terrified of witchcraft. Yet you didn''t have any problem shaking hands with us for this job. And not to mention you didn''t hesitate even once to use the magical items Asmod had to offer. His magic is also dark magic.¡± I narrowed my eyes at him. ¡°Either your scaredy-cat persona is just a facade or you''ve done something to the real Hopper and replaced him.¡±


    Several beats of silence passed. ¡°Now I understand why it had to be you,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s no doubt that you are smart.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I cocked my head.


    ¡°There''s something that I was supposed to give you,¡± he said, looking at me over his shoulder.


    ¡°Will you stop talking in riddles and say something like a normal person?¡± I said.


    He turned to me fully and said, ¡°It was the Voice who told me to approach you. It gave me something and said that I had to hand it over to you. The Voice also said that in order to accomplish my goal, I had to get you involved in this mission.¡±


    I won''t lie, his ramblings did give me a slight chill. He really sounded like someone who was off his rocker. But I wasn''t just an ordinary girl from a boring world anymore. I was Elsa Grimly. Mad ravings weren''t going to scare me.


    I gave an inquisitive look before a thought came to my mind. ¡°This voice¡­did you have to perform a ritual to hear it?¡± I asked.


    His expression turned cautious, his body language became a lot more guarded. ¡°What if I say yes?¡± he said.


    ¡°Was it the voice that told you about the big change that was coming?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Why yes,¡± he said.


    I leaned closer towards him and the volume of my voice dropped almost involuntarily. ¡°Did you use some kind of spiritual primer to look at the world beyond the veil?¡± I asked.


    Now Hopper''s eyes went wide with surprise. ¡°How do you know that?¡± he said.


    I leaned back and focused on Old Elsa''s memories to dig up something that might tell me something more about the situation. I learned that rituals are a powerful method of performing magic. And witchcraft, alongside some other branches of dark magic made it easier for their users to perform rituals. Users of other types of magic needed a ritual primer to be able to have the desired result from a ritual, unlike witches.


    That''s why Smokewell needed the s¨¬th bread to carry out the ritual of reading omens now that she wasn''t a witch anymore. I guessed Hopper (or whoever this man pretending to be him was) was using something similar to look into the future using the world beyond the veil.


    I looked at Hopper. ¡°Forget how I know it, tell me what it is that the¡­the Voice told you to give me.¡±


    ¡°Now that I think of it, I¡¯m not going to give it to you right now.¡± He shook his head.


    I looked at him, deadpan. ¡°Seriously? What¡¯s wrong with you?¡±


    He gave a wry smile. ¡°Since you decided to come with me, you should accompany me on my task. And then I can give you the thing the Voice told me to.¡±


    ¡°Why should I come with you at all?¡± I said.


    ¡°Because I don''t want to be alone in case there''s a fight,¡± he said. ¡°My method of solving problems usually involves blowing things up. And now that I think of it, I leave behind a big pile of destruction after these incidents. Having a partner coming along with me will make me feel more responsible for my actions and think more rationally.¡±


    I folded my arms across my chest. ¡°I don''t have to come with you.¡±


    ¡°Then you don''t get that mystery gift.¡±


    I huffed in frustration, a few loose strands of hair fluttered on my forehead. The new information really had me eager to see what it was that he was supposed to give me personally. And it was some kind of ¡®voice from beyond¡¯ that was directing him to do that.


    I paused for a second. A question I''d had earlier presented itself again. If I inherited Elsa''s body, where did Old Elsa''s soul go? Could this voice from beyond be hers?


    I looked at Hopper. ¡°Do you hear this Voice often?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not this one specifically. I hear different voices on different occasions. They tell me things about future or something that needs to be done to maintain a balance in the universe,¡± he said.


    Okay, he was sounding crazier the more he talked about it. But it also seemed to make sense in a way. It freaked me out a bit. But I was also getting eager to dig more answers from him.


    ¡°What else can you tell me about this ritual? Or the Voices?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Honestly? Nothing,¡± he said. ¡°The reason I haven''t told you anything clearly and have only spoken in riddles is because I don''t want to accidentally break the terms of my binding vows that allow me to use my powers.¡±


    I held back a groan. ¡°Well, there''s still time before my friends return!¡± I said, feeling more irritable. ¡°Instead of standing around waiting, let''s just go to Wyndham''s Apothecary and do what you were going to do.¡±


    ¡°Perfect,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°We¡¯ll be in and out in a minute.¡±

 27. Wyndhams Apothecary

    Wyndham''s Apothecary wasn''t what I expected an apothecary would be. It was a cinderblock building that was three storeys high and the second storey had a stained glass window of red, yellow and blue colors, depicting angels rescuing a bunch of wretched humans from a fire of some kind. Hopper led me into an alley next to it.


    ¡°Was it the Voice that also told you about the Wyndhams?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Actually no,¡± he said. ¡°It was my own investigation that led me to the Wyndhams.¡±


    ¡°Investigation?¡± I said as we came to the back of the building.


    ¡°About the green blood theory, the knife test and what was the connection between people who were executed for ¡®being cursed¡¯.¡±


    The alley behind the building was fairly cluttered with crates full of dark tinted bottles and broken ceramic basins and large cylinders with pipes that pumped something inside the buildings.


    I paused for a second as I looked up at the building. ¡°That reminds me, you still haven''t told me who you really are,¡± I said. ¡°And what you did to the real Hopper.¡±


    Hopper gave a thoughtful frown.


    ¡°You''ve already told me enough,¡± I said. ¡°What''s wrong with telling me your name?¡±


    ¡°I''m just wondering which name I should tell you,¡± he said. ¡°They call me a lot of things.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Criminal. Menace. Threat to Society. Spawn of Hell. Destroyer of Morals. Violator of Justice.¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°How about something that your friends might call you,¡± I said.


    ¡°I don''t remember,¡± he said.


    I gave him an exasperated look that I would''ve given a highschool edgelord who carved sad poetry on classroom desks. ¡°You don''t remember what your friends used to call you?¡±


    ¡°I don''t remember if I ever had friends,¡± he said. ¡°It''s been a long time since I stayed in one place long enough to make friends. Too long.¡±


    My look didn''t change. ¡°Dude, are you gonna tell me what your name is or¨C?¡±


    ¡°Let''s just stick with Hopper for now,¡± he said.


    I sighed and looked up at the building. ¡°How were you planning on stealing documents from here?¡± I said.


    ¡°Oh, simple.¡± He fished a pistol out of his coat pocket. It was the same one he had used to blow up the prison gate.


    ¡°Woah, woah, okay, easy there.¡± I waved my hands anxiously. ¡°I think it''s better to be a bit more sneaky.¡± I dug into my satchel and pulled out one of the bottles filled with the dark matter.


    I pulled off the lid and as if a genie was summoned, a woman''s shape materialized out of the black mist. ¡°Is it time to do my job, master?¡± she said.


    ¡°Yes, we are looking for¨C¡± I turned to Hopper and asked him what we were actually looking for.


    ¡°Just tell her to find the keys to a filing cabinet,¡± Hopper said.


    ¡°That''s just vague,¡± I said. ¡°How is she supposed to know which cabinet you are talking to?¡±


    ¡°This is an apothecary not the town Council. How difficult would it be to find a file cabinet?¡±


    I groaned. If I told the Abyss to find something like the keys to a particular cabinet, she might bring the wrong keys or maybe just not find the keys at all. I was still figuring out how to command these things. And the danger here was too big to test to see if I could get them to do a complicated job just yet. I looked at the Abyss who was still hovering in front of me, her eyes were patient. ¡°Change of plans,¡± I said, ¡°Just go through this wall and unlock this door from the inside.¡± I pointed at the back door in front of us.


    ¡°Yes, master.¡± The abyss nodded and made her way through the wall in the back of the building like a ghost. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    And in a few minutes, we heard a click of a lock turning. The back door swung open.


    I gave a mental command to the Abyss that her job was done. Then I liberated her as we walked inside.


    The back of the apothecary was some kind of storage room. There was a musty smell of unopened cardboard boxes that sat on multiple rows of metal shelves. There were more shelves by the opposite wall, filled with bottles and containers full of chemicals and whatever else these people needed to make their medicine.


    We walked towards the door at the opposite side of the room and out into a dimly lit hallway. Small pipelines ran back and forth overhead, humming monotonously as they carried whatever it is they were carrying through their veins. There were two doors at the end of the hallway.


    One led out to the business end of the building where the workers were probably attending to their customers. Another opened on a stairway leading upstairs. We went through the latter door.


    We climbed the metal staircase to the second floor and peered through the keyhole of the door at the top. Of course, I didn''t get to see everything that was inside but I did see people moving back and forth.


    ¡°There might be at least ten of them,¡± I said.


    Hopper nodded and set his hold-all on the floor and dug into it. He pulled out some kind of syringe and a vial. He loaded the cylinder of the syringe with a crimson red liquid. And handed it to me. ¡°Hold this for a second, please.¡±


    I obliged. He took off his coat and laid it down by the door, covering the crack below it with the cloth and making sure he didn''t leave any visible space. Then he took the syringe from me and pushed the needle through the keyhole in the door. He pressed down on the plunger, emptying the red liquid onto the other side of the door.


    Then he put the syringe away and grabbed onto the door handle tightly and started muttering something under his breath. A few seconds passed and I heard something from the other side. Coughing.


    And it sounded like a lot of people were coughing at once. The door latch started to rattle as if someone was frantically trying to unlock it. Hopper held onto the latch, restricting any and all movement.


    ¡°Hey, open the door! Open the damn door!¡± the man on the other side rapped at the door, coughing helplessly.


    Hopper didn''t let it distract him from his muttering. It took me a moment to notice that he was actually counting seconds.


    The coughing and the sounds of struggle to get out got louder on the other side of the door. Hopper kept counting. ¡°Five¡­four¡­three¡­two¨C¡±


    There was a sound of a muffled thump from the other side and then the coughing stopped. Hopper waited a few more moments before letting go of the handle and the latch. He took his coat off the floor, dusted it and put it on. Next he held the door open for me and said, ¡°After you.¡±


    A little hesitantly, I walked in, only to find that the room was some kind of lab. On one end was a long desk where two people must''ve sat and put all the bottles of medicines in their respective boxes. The rest of the room was where they produced the said medicine at the desks where all the burners and flasks and pipettes and all the other science equipment was set up.


    But there was one more thing--all of these people were now unconscious. And there was a hint of a thin red haze in the air.


    ¡°Extract of the somnia plant root. It evaporates rapidly when exposed to the air,¡± he said. ¡°And its effect¡­well you can see it for yourself.¡± He waved his hand over the unconscious people as we made our way through the lab and onto the door on the other side of the room.


    Past the door was another stairway that led us up to another corridor. And at the end of this corridor was another door. It was locked so I had to use the dismantling ritual to open it.


    We walked inside. Hopper didn''t waste any time and got right down to ransacking the place. He went through the drawers in the desk across the room and through the files and notebooks that were on top of it.


    I was about to join him when a map on the wall grabbed my attention. Copperwall province. The very province in which we lived. Certain cities on the map were marked with a ¡®W¡¯. It didn''t take a Sherlock to figure out the W stood for Wyndham.


    ¡°Do the Wyndham''s own any other business?¡± I asked Hopper as I scanned the map.


    ¡°As far as I know they have been running this apothecary for generations,¡± he said.


    ¡°How many generations?¡±


    ¡°At least the past three ones,¡± he said.


    ¡°Business must be good since they are¡­opening franchises across Copperwall,¡± I said as I kept looking at the map.


    ¡°Oh, their business has been magnificent,¡± he said.


    I searched through Elsa''s memories, trying to remember if there was any other business that had a chain of offices and manufacturing lines across the country. But I couldn''t find anything. Also not to mention, the Wyndhams only ran an apothecary. This wasn''t a proper pharmaceutical company from my world. And corporate companies were probably a century away in the future of Ravenwind, if they were going to be a thing at all.


    But it seemed like the Wyndhams had already put together the bare-bones of capitalism in this world. To open franchises they needed some investment to mass produce and move their product across several vendors so they could reach new buyers.


    So they probably had agreements with other apothecaries in the neighboring cities. The question was, what kind of product were they selling to get multiple businesses on board?


    It certainly had to be something very much in demand to convince other businesses and potential customers to want to buy the product. I looked at Hopper. ¡°Under the bridge you said that Hammer''s father is working with the Wyndhams. What does Hammer''s family actually do?¡±


    ¡°They run a fertilizer business,¡± he said.


    Then the door at the end of the hallway was thrown open and there was a sound of storming footsteps. The Wyndhams had discovered the intruders.

 28. Rules of the business

    They were three men and all of them had pistols in hand. And they weren''t shy to use it. There was a barrage of gunfire at the office we were in. Hopper and I dove to the side, taking cover behind a cabinet. I whipped out my knife and started carving a pentacle on the wall.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Hopper said.


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°What do you think? I''m trying to escape.¡±


    ¡°No, we aren''t done yet. I still didn''t find the document,¡± he said, sneaking a hurried glance at the hallway outside.


    ¡°If we don''t get out now, then even our corpses won''t be found,¡± I said as I finished drawing the pentacle for the dismantling ritual.


    ¡°Now isn''t the time to run!¡± he snapped at me and pulled out his own pistol from his coat.


    He leaned out and fired at the doorway where the men were standing. A wall of fire erupted out of the ground. ¡°You idiot,¡± I said. ¡°How long is that fire supposed to keep us safe?¡±


    ¡°Long enough for me to get a hold of some somnia.¡± He was about to look into his hold-all when a loud fizzling noise caught our attention.


    One of the men at the door stood with a large can in his hand and the fire had disappeared. It took me half a moment to realize that the can in the man¡¯s hand was the fire extinguisher.


    Of course, this place also was a science lab. Of course, they would be better prepared in case of an accident.


    The men at the door burst into the room the next moment and grabbed a hold of us. One of them twisted my arm behind my back and gripped the back of my neck, like a chicken that was about to be slaughtered.


    One of the other two tackled Hopper to the ground while the last man confiscated Hopper''s hold-all and my reticule.


    ¡°You both really thought you could just break into the main office and get away with it?¡± the man who had Hopper pinned down said with a scoff.


    ¡°A boy can dream, you know,¡± Hopper said with sass.


    While the two men who had restrained us checked our pockets for any weapons another set of footsteps rang out down the hallway. A man in his mid-forties entered the room. He had black hair that were turning gray at the temples and a cleft chin. He wore a navy blue waist coat over a shirt and trousers of the same color. His shoes were shiny black and they gave him air and authority of a man who owned things and did with them as he saw fit.


    It didn''t take much effort to deduce that this man was probably a Wyndham. He showed a sense of mock surprise when he looked at Hopper.


    ¡°My, oh my, of all the people, I wasn''t expecting to find General Hopper himself, sneaking through my humble establishment.¡± He casually pushed his hands into his trouser pockets and smirked. ¡°Last I heard, you were transferred off to Orowen after your magnificent stint of witch hunting here.¡±


    Hopper grit his teeth and said nothing. Wyndham held his gaze with his smug look. The man next to him who still had my bag was pointing his gun at Hopper and I.


    Wyndham crouched in front of Hopper and cocked his head. ¡°You still haven''t told me why you are here,¡± he said. ¡°If you answer me like a gentleman, I won''t have to do anything drastic.¡±


    Hopper smirked. ¡°Just remember if anything happens to me, questions are going to be raised. There will be an investigation. You need to be really delusional to think you could actually get away with it.¡±


    Wyndham scoffed. ¡°You really think I''m that reckless?¡± he said. ¡°We won''t kill you, Hopper. We will hand you over to your own friends. And they will execute you for the good of everyone.¡±


    Hopper frowned, puzzled.


    ¡°You didn''t get it?¡± Wyndham said, grinning like a school boy who was about to reveal the most scandalous gossip he''d heard. ¡°We¡¯ll turn your blood green, Hopper. The Inquisition will not let you walk among the masses with that tainted blood. Then they''ll burn you. Did you forget the drill, my friend? You sent so many people to their stakes to be burned.¡±


    Hopper just glared at the businessman.


    ¡°Tell me what you were doing up here!¡± Wyndham snapped.


    ¡°You can kiss my ass.¡±


    Wyndham''s muscleman dealt a diligent punch to Hopper''s face for the insult. The blow cut a line on Hopper''s lip, blood oozed.


    Wyndham leaned closer to the prone man. ¡°I''m a very cautious person, Hopper. And I don''t take unnecessary risks,¡± he said. ¡°I gave you a chance to live. But you chose to sign your death warrant.¡± Then he rose to his feet and turned to leave. ¡°Take him to the storage and dope him up with sulfutrin.¡± He gave a dismissive wave. ¡°Then report him to the Inquisition.¡±


    ¡°What about the girl?¡± the man holding me asked.


    Wyndham paused and looked at me, as if he was noticing me for the first time. He only spared me a momentary glance before shrugging. ¡°She is a girl. Do what you want. Just make sure you don''t leave any traces after.¡± He started walking again.


    Gotta hand it to Wyndham. His words had scared me for a moment. But then I remembered something. I looked at the man who was still holding my reticule. I yelled, ¡°It''s time to do your duty. Come out!¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    There was a sound of glass bursting inside the bag and black mist issued out of the crack in the closing flap. The mist materialized into the shape of a woman with a subservient look.


    ¡°Save me from these three men!¡± I snapped.


    The woman nodded and zipped at the man holding me. The men were still stunned at what had just transpired. The man holding me fired his gun. But the bullets merely passed through the Abyssal being''s ethereal body.


    My servant phased through me and disappeared inside the man. He gasped and then he winced, his grip on me loosened and I pushed him off me. The man stumbled backwards, gripping his chest, as if suffering from a severe heart attack. His gun fell out of his hand. And then he was puking blood on the floor.


    The sight made my stomach churn but adrenaline was coursing through me. I grabbed the gun and turned to the man who was holding Hopper. He was still weirdly mesmerized by what was unfolding in front of him. But the sight of the gun in my hand jolted him back to reality. He fired at me. And I fired back. The only difference was, I fired three times in succession, right into his stomach. He was thrown backwards, blood spurting out of his gut.


    I looked at Wyndham who had already taken off running. I took aim and pulled the trigger, managing to stop him before he could escape the hallway, but since this was my first time holding a gun, the bullet I fired got him in his left buttcheek.


    ****


    Yes, I did feel sick in my stomach at first. The man I''d ordered my abyssal servant to attack had died from some kind of intense internal hemorrhage, apparently. The man that I''d shot had gone unconscious and had been bleeding like a stuck pig. As for Wyndham¡­


    Well, he couldn''t stop crying. I didn''t blame him.


    Even though I was feeling nauseous, getting flashbacks of Yazara in heaven, I still forced a sense of balance upon myself. With slightly trembling hands I reached into my reticule and dug around for a healing ointment.


    The man who had puked a gallon of blood was beyond saving. But at least I could use the ointment on the guy I had shot.


    And no, I didn''t care for him one bit. If he was a stranger dying on the street, I would''ve probably kept walking. God knows how many homeless junkies I''d passed by in my previous life, not giving them a second glance or a thought. Carelessly assuming that they were just blacked out while it was obvious the suckers had overdosed themselves to death.


    Yet, I used to keep walking on.


    This wasn''t anything like that. I wasn''t a paragon of morality. Nor was this my first encounter with death. No, this was a step of caution.


    I didn''t want nightmares of guts spilling all over the floor because I pulled a trigger. I didn''t want to hear the thunder of gunshots in my head. I didn''t want to be a murderer.


    And so I emptied half of the ointment on the man''s Swiss cheese belly. Since I shot him point blank, the bullets had passed clean out of his back. So there wasn''t any need to worry for the projectiles to get trapped in his body if the wounds were sealed.


    The ointment did its job. The man was still unconscious because blood loss was blood loss. But at least his torso wasn''t looking like a tennis racket anymore.


    My heart stopped racing a bit. And I decided to ignore the other corpse that was lying behind me. I took their guns away and turned to Hopper instead, who was now interrogating Wyndham (his name was Ernest, by the way).


    ¡°If you want me to make the pain go away, then open your mouth, Wyndham,¡± Hopper said, grabbing the man''s waistcoat and giving him a firm shake. ¡°Wasn''t it you who created the whole green blood hysteria?¡±


    Even though Ernest Wyndham was still in the middle of crying, he looked at Hopper, befuddled. ¡°It was you.¡±


    Hopper slapped the man across the face. ¡°Answer my damn question!¡±


    Ernest cried harder, gripping his bleeding butt tighter. ¡°Yes!¡± he nodded. ¡°It was me!¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Hopper said in a cold, ruthless voice.


    Ernest sniffled and looked at the man, terrified and stunned by the intensity of Hopper''s penetrating gaze. It was enough to get him to start singing.


    He told us that he got the idea from Alistair Hammer, William Hammer''s father when they had been enjoying some ale one evening. Alistair had told Ernest that William had been researching the nature of human blood and he had made an interesting discovery. The phenomenon where the color of blood changes for some reason.


    Ernest had dug further into the concept and with the resources at his apothecary he had tested out that Hammer''s theory actually had some merit to it. Ernest had been fascinated and decided to take advantage of the fear of getting bewitched that had slowly spread through Ravenwind.


    Destiny had been on his side since a lunatic like Hopper (the real Hopper) had been stationed at Stonebarrow at the time. So Ernest had managed to convince Alistair with promises of expansion of their respective businesses to become an investor for this project of his.


    Since Hammer''s family manufactured fertilizers, it meant they had a good amount of sulfur in their stock, since it was one of the ingredients in some fertilizers. And sulfur was what caused the green blood condition.


    Wyndhams made the drug that would cause that condition only after a few doses. They smuggled these into the medications of their regular customers. While the drugs were taking effect, Wyndham and Alistair Hammer paid a few people to spread the rumors of the green blood being a sign of a curse among the lesser educated parts of the Stonebarrow society.


    And like it went with most rumors, they became more and more embellished as they started going around. And thus, the Spirit of Darkness was a thing that caused the green blood.


    Once the rumors had spread well among the masses, Wyndham lodged a complaint about several people being cursed. Since the real Hopper was an idiot, he bought into the narrative of the green blood being cursed. And just like that more than thirty people had been executed.


    ¡°And then William Hammer was put on the watchlist because he was ardently trying to debunk the green blood theory,¡± I said.


    ¡°William was the only obstacle in our way,¡± Wyndham said. ¡°Since, he actually knew the science behind the green blood. Alistair knew that if his son managed to convince the government that the green blood wasn''t a real curse, he would lose the share of revenue that he was going to make.¡±


    ¡°Where was this extra revenue even coming from?¡± Hopper said. ¡°From what you''ve told, I can only see that you just spread the rumor and sleazily slipped your sulphur spiked drug to the oblivious people. Where is this other money coming from?¡±


    Wyndham hesitated before saying, ¡°You are right, spreading the rumor and smuggling the drug is all that I told you. But after¡­after you were transferred and William left town after an ugly fight with Alistair, we released a medicine that would make people immune against getting cursed or affected by the Spirit of Darkness. Of course there was no Spirit of Darkness. Or any immunity boosting elixir. It was just a sugar pill.¡±


    For a moment, I was baffled. ¡°And people believed you? Are they actually buying this?¡±


    Wyndham nodded sheepishly. ¡°Fear is a great motivation, you know? Thanks to Hopper, thirty people of this city were executed just because the color of their blood was different. No one wants that to happen to themselves. We just¡­played by the rules of the business. To sell your product, you sometimes have to create a demand for that product yourself.¡±

 29. Lonesome Ghosts

    Hopper cuffed Ernest to a table and went down to find someone to summon the nearby Internal Police folks. ¡°The next course of action is to write down Wyndham''s confession that he gave us and have him sign it and put him on immediate trial,¡± he told me as we walked out of the apothecary. ¡°All the people who were arrested for testing positive with the green blood test need to be released too. It''s going to be a long day for me.¡±


    We stood out on the sidewalk and watched the carriages passing by. ¡°Why are you worrying? Didn''t you retire? You can just hand over the case to someone at IP and walk away. Also, you aren''t even the real Lloyd Hopper.¡± I said the last part a lot quietly.


    The man looked down at the ground, his eyes focusing on something that was way beyond his gaze. ¡°I think I''ll stick to this role a while longer,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe I can carry out my mission a lot better as Hopper than anyone else that I had been pretending to be.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Mission?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°The mission to change things,¡± he said. ¡°Even though I have caused some ripples in this society, I still haven''t been able to bring a noticeable change in this country. Maybe as a part of the system, I might bring a more concrete change.¡±


    I considered it for a while and it seemed to make sense. At least a little. ¡°Also, we managed to reveal a big plan that might''ve cost a lot more lives. The government probably won''t be as harsh on you for sending all those people to be executed. Or more like the people that the real Hopper sent to be executed.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I will probably be pardoned,¡± he said.


    I cocked my head. ¡°I''m curious though, what kind of ripples have you caused in this society?¡±


    ¡°The last of my adventures involved blowing up the temple of the Steam Elemental.¡±


    My jaw went slack. ¡°It was you? I remember Lily telling me about it.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°It created quite some ripples but on a larger scale it really didn''t lead anywhere. And so I took Hopper''s place to get to the bottom of the entire green blood matter.¡±


    ¡°That reminds me now,¡± I said. ¡°Are you going to tell me who you really are? Or how exactly you became Hopper?¡±


    The man was silent for a long time before he finally opened his mouth to say something. ¡°The closest thing to a real name that I have is Eidolon. As for the latter question, I simply took over Hopper''s body.¡±


    I just stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to say. Not because I was baffled by what I''d just heard. But because of the information that his statements had triggered in me.


    Eidolon, the lonesome ghosts, Old Elsa''s memories told me. They once lived in the world beyond the veil but in order to experience mortal life, they abandon that world in exchange of never having one real identity or a real place of belonging. The gates of the immortal world are closed off to them forever after that and they are invisible in their true forms to everyone who lives in the mortal realm. The only way they can exist in this world is as a passenger in someone else''s body.


    It made sense why Eidolon didn''t remember his real name or anything of the sort. His memories were probably wiped out in order to let him use his powers in the mortal realm.


    I didn''t pry him with any more personal questions after that and gave a single nod.


    ¡°You helped me out with this mission well. I would even say it wouldn''t have been a clean job like this without you,¡± he said. ¡°And so I''ll keep my promise.¡± He dug into his coat and pulled out a dark, gleaming object. It was a key, made of obsidian and textured with white specks that swirled within it like stars.


    I''d never seen anything like that before. ¡°The Voice told me to give it to you. Where it can be used? It didn''t tell me anything about that. But since it was meant to be given to you, you''ll be able to figure it out.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I pocketed the key and wished him good luck with his mission. We parted ways.


    ****


    I hailed a carriage and asked the driver to take me to the Hammer''s estate. My mind was still spinning with all the information I had absorbed in the past few hours.


    I looked out the window and tried to focus on the streets we were passing by, looked at the people who were all headed their own different ways in life. I tried to give my mind a break from all that I had learned about this new world and the people living in it. The rules that it followed and the rules that it broke.


    I also felt lucky that I wasn''t alone while I witnessed all this. Things could''ve been a lot, lot worse if I had been going through all of this by myself.


    The carriage came to a halt outside Hammer''s manor. I walked past the main entrance gates and up the gravel pathway that led to the building. To my surprise, Lily, Asmod and Smokewell were all sitting on the porch steps at the front.


    Lily seemed to be crying while Asmod comforted her and the cat was next to them¡­counting the steambolt coins that she had laid out in front of her.


    ¡°What is going on here?¡± I asked, puzzled.


    Lily sniffled. ¡°I''m sad.¡±


    ¡°I''m so happy.¡± Smokewell laid another coin in front of her.


    ¡°I''m confused.¡± I frowned. ¡°Again, what happened?¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Asmod opened his mouth to say something but the cat gleefully interrupted him. ¡°We got paid!¡±


    ¡°Then why is Lily crying?¡±


    ¡°Because¡­because¡­Mr. Hammer¡­¡± Lily managed between her sobs.


    Asmod gave her a few pats on the shoulder and said, ¡°Turns out Alistair Hammer passed away a week ago. The funeral was two days ago.¡±


    ¡°He never got a chance to say goodbye to his father!¡± Lily sobbed.


    ****


    It was almost as if my feet moved on their own and I walked inside the manor. A maid was dusting the curtains and asked me whom I was looking for. I told her.


    ¡°But Master William left to visit late Master Alistair''s grave,¡± she said.


    I asked her where the grave was.


    She said it was on the estate itself. Putting it more bluntly, what she meant was that the man had been buried in the Hammer family''s personal graveyard in the back.


    ¡°Can I meet him?¡±


    ¡°He said he wants to be left alone while he is there,¡± the maid said.


    ¡°Just take me to him. This is a matter of grave importance.¡± After a while I said, ¡°No pun intended.¡±


    The maid led me to the graveyard on the estate. It was a little patch of land with squat brick walls surrounding it and a small metal gate at the entrance. I walked inside, weaving my way through the short maze of graves.


    I saw William Hammer on his knees in front of a concrete burial vault. Staring at his father''s epitaph that read: A man with many regrets.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± he said, not looking at me and probably having heard me approach. ¡°Didn''t the maid tell you¨C¡±


    ¡°She did,¡± I said. ¡°I wanted to offer something.¡±


    ¡°I don''t feel like I need anything right now¡­¡± he said.


    ¡°What if I said¡­you could talk to him?¡±


    A loud gust of wind passed between us, raising unanchored blades of grass off the ground. ¡°How is it possible?¡± he said.


    ¡°Do you want to or not?¡± I asked.


    He agreed.


    I drew the pentacle on the burial vault and smeared a drop of my blood over it. Black mist seeped out of the edge of the vault, gathering up into the air before materializing into the shape of a person.


    The Abyss was about to bow in subservience and ask me to command him but I stopped him before he could speak. ¡°I don''t want anything from you,¡± I said. ¡°Just¡­Just talk to your son.¡± I stepped aside.


    William Hammer rose to his feet behind me. Tears were rolling down his face. ¡°F-Father?¡±


    ¡°William¡­¡± Alistair Hammer''s abyss whispered.


    For a long time his son just stared at his father''s shadow, hovering in the black mist in front of him. Then he asked, ¡°Is it true¡­that¡­that you wanted me to be arrested so that I wouldn''t get in your way?¡±


    Alistair¡¯s abyss frowned. ¡°Why would I want such a thing, son? In fact I regretted having that fight with you after you were gone. That was why I even offered the reward to anyone who would find you. I was desperate to see you just one last time before¡­well, this¡­¡±


    More tears streamed down William''s face. ¡°I-I''m sorry¡­I-I abandoned you, father.¡±


    ¡°Don''t apologize, son. I feel like I deserved it. I pushed you away with my stubbornness and greed. I hope you can forgive me for it,¡± Alistair said.


    Hammer couldn''t stop crying so he just nodded. But after catching his breath he said, ¡°I forgive you, father.¡±


    Alistair smiled a sad smile and reached out to his son and wiped his tears. ¡°I hope I¡¯ll get another chance to have you as my son. So that I can be the kind of father you deserved.¡±


    Hammer swallowed hard and embraced the man in front of him. After pulling back he gestured to me that he was done. I set the abyssal being free.


    While Hammer was wiping his tears, he said, ¡°Thank you. If it wasn''t for you¡­I would''ve had to live with the regret of¡­never getting to see him before he left¡­¡±


    I just nodded. I still wasn''t used to people saying such heavy and intense stuff to me.


    We started walking back to the manor. ¡°May I ask¡­why did you take the effort to¡­do that for me?¡±


    I really wanted to say something profound at that moment. But I couldn''t come up with anything. So I just said what had been on my mind. ¡°I''ve realized something recently. It is that everyone deserves a second chance. Even someone who believes that they can''t do anything good with what they have.¡±


    ****


    And so we made our way back to the docks to board the ferry home, our purses filled with coins. I couldn''t help but smile. ¡°I think all of the unresolved omens that we had read are now real,¡± I said as we sailed back into the Fallstone river. ¡°The coin, the hammer. Everything.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lily said and groaned, leaning back on the bench. ¡°And it sucked the life out of me.¡±


    ¡°Well, at least we were paid,¡± Asmod said.


    ¡°And our names are completely cleared,¡± I added.


    Lily looked at me skeptically. ¡°Really? Hopper won''t cause us any trouble?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°No, he won''t. Quite the opposite in fact,¡± I said. ¡°He said we''ll get recognized as the team that uncovered a viscious scheme and saved dozens of lives.¡±


    Lily frowned. ¡°But we didn''t.¡±


    I sighed, thinking of what Eidolon said to me before we parted ways. ¡°You won''t have to worry about your cases being brought up again. After this incident, your names won''t just be cleared but taken with respect for exposing Wyndham''s plan.¡±


    ¡°We did, Lily,¡± I said. ¡°You''ll see it when the newspapers will have our names in there. Also, William Hammer is going to be our alibi in any case we have the problem with the Inquisition again.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Asmod said. ¡°That''s¡­quite a powerful contact actually.¡±


    Lily frowned again. ¡°But he didn''t say anything like that to us.¡±


    ¡°He said that to me,¡± I said.


    ¡°Now that I''ve inherited everything that my father left me, I''m going to put it to good use,¡± he had said as we walked out of the cemetery in his backyard. ¡°I''m going to use my background as a doctor and his contacts with the government to form an entity that stops idiocy like the green blood theory before it causes problems like these.¡± Then he looked at me and said, ¡°I owe you a special favor for helping me talk to my father. Don''t hesitate to call on me, if you ever need help with something.¡±


    ¡°Hm, so it wasn''t a bad idea to help out Hopper it seems,¡± Smokewell said in a quiet voice so the other passengers couldn''t hear her.


    I smiled and gave her a little scratch behind the ear. She purred and then she glared at me. ¡°Don''t ever do that again.¡±


    ¡°Wait, but we forgot to ask,¡± Lily said. ¡°What did you and Hopper do when we parted ways?¡±


    I sighed as I watched the buildings passing by. ¡°That''s a story for another time, Lily. Another time.¡±

 30. Volcano Lane

    The boat halted at Pallport. That''s when Lily remembered something. ¡°Barbecue!¡± she cried out. ¡°How could we forget it?!¡±


    Smokewell scratched at her own ears and let out a hiss, baring her teeth at the girl.


    Asmod leaned towards Lilian. ¡°Keep it down, Lily¨C¡±


    The girl grabbed ahold of my sleeve and tugged like an enthusiastic child. ¡°Remember what we''d decided?¡± she said. ¡°We''ll celebrate at Volcano Lane once we make enough money.¡±


    I gave a little hum and then a nod. ¡°Yeah, we did decide to do that,¡± I said. I turned to Asmod and Smokewell. ¡°How about we board off for now?¡±


    Smokewell hopped onto Asmod''s shoulder. ¡°Do you know of this place that they are referring to?¡±


    The man nodded. ¡°I''ve heard of it.¡±


    ¡°Alright, it''s time to celebrate!¡± Lily hopped out of her seat and made her way towards the exit of the steamboat.


    We got on the boarding dock and entered the city street. Then we hailed for a carriage.


    ****


    Volcano Lane stood out like a sore thumb in an industrial hub like Pallport. It was a long stretch of a broad alley flanked with nothing but restaurants of all kinds for half a mile on either sides. The rest of the lane was nothing but apartments and a few row houses where entry was forbidden to non-drakes. The buildings were unlike anything that humans built. Most of them were monolithic rocks carved like caves for rooms to operate businesses in. Their surfaces were jagged and the windows didn''t have any panes or glass. They were just holes in the stone-walls.


    The street was paved with thousands of white pebbles that looked like something I would''ve seen inside a fish bowl in my world. But these stones weren''t ordinary, I could tell. They radiated a weird warmth and despite their texture they weren''t slippery to walk on.


    And yes, all of these things were interesting to look at. But my attention was still drawn towards something else. The restaurant names. They were¡­


    ¡°Ooh, ooh, I want to try out The Charred Princess!¡± Lily said, pointing excitedly at a certain two story joint on the right.


    ¡°I think I find The Blasted Wedding more intriguing,¡± Smokewell said, hopping onto Asmod''s bald head.


    ¡°What about the Skewered Knight?¡± Asmod said.


    ¡°Those are some interesting names.¡± I nodded.


    After walking around and asking around for a bit, the names made a bit more sense. The Blasted Wedding was a family restaurant with a wider range of dishes. The Skewered Knight specialized in spit roasted options of various animals. And The Charred Princess was the one where they didn''t allow teenagers for some reason.


    We decided to go for the Blasted Wedding because it offered a lot to choose from. We were greeted with a storm of fire blowing in our faces the moment we entered.


    Smokewell shrieked and jumped onto my shoulder, her back arched and her tail went rigid. Asmod hid behind me and Lily charged at the drake that had spat the inferno at us.


    She soon halted in her step when another drake appeared between her and the attacker. ¡°It''s okay, there''s no need to panic, the situation is under control,¡± the drake said. ¡°Grandpa is just having a digestion problem. Mom, get him back upstairs! He almost obliterated another customer.¡±


    Once the initial panic of the situation wore off, I got to take in the view of the drake girl. She was covered in emerald green scales and two horns were sprouting out of her forehead. She didn¡¯t have any hair or eyebrows or lashes. And even though her face remotely resembled a velociraptor, there was something very friendly about the way she talked and carried herself around. She wore a blouse, a skirt, an apron but no human shoes. Her hands and feet had three solid silver talons and it made me wonder how the drakes managed to cook without thumbs.


    What surprised me more was that she was just a few feet taller than humans and there were no wings coming out of her back. Maybe they were retractable and she could hide it?


    Her name was Alsyrra and she led us to a table for four. Like the rest of the establishment, the furniture was also made of stone but the chairs were upholstered. And the walls were etched with drawings of creatures that resembled dragons.


    Alsyrra took our orders and then poured us all some ale. I told her that we hadn''t asked for it.


    She gave a nervous chuckle and shook her head. ¡°It''s on the house¡­for that inconvenience we caused earlier. Your meal will arrive in a bit.¡± She left in a hurry. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Smokewell scoffed and pulled out her opium pipe. ¡°She is a little darling. For a drake,¡± she said as she used the candle on the table to light the tobacco. ¡°I mean, she''ll have to be or else they''ll kick her entire family out and close this joint.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I said, taking a sip of my ale.


    ¡°All these drakes have signed the Regulated Practices Agreement,¡± the cat said. ¡°Or else no one would''ve let them run their business here. And because they are all on a leash, they have to bend over backwards to not offend the humans.¡±


    ¡°That''s rather a harsh judgement, Smokewell,¡± Asmod said. ¡°Drakes aren''t monsters. At least not these ones who are living alongside us.¡±


    Smokwell rolled her eyes as she blew a cloud of smoke. ¡°If they weren''t monsters, they wouldn''t have needed to sign the agreement. Them signing that agreement means that they accept they are monsters. That little fire puking geezer by the door didn''t have any digestive problem. He probably hates humans and hates the fact his kids have to cook and serve for them.¡±


    ¡°That''s just rude, Miss Smokewell,¡± Lily said. ¡°They want to live a peaceful life so they came here. There''s nothing wrong with not wanting to be dangerous all the time. And come to think of it, we are no different.¡±


    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°I decided to¨C¡±


    ¡°Change your human form because you wanted to get the Inquisition off your back, we know.¡± I rolled my eyes as I interrupted her. ¡°But either way, the drakes are doing it right. Regardless of what they were like before they came here, it seems like they have a decent business running.¡± I scanned the other tables with my eyes and they all were taken by diners that seemed to be enjoying their meals. ¡°I would even say we should learn a thing or two from them.¡±


    Smokewell scoffed. ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Other than the occasional fire hazard, their overall service might be good.¡± I gestured at the other tables. ¡°Most of these diners are humans and what''s the one thing we all know about humans?¡±


    ¡°They are idiots?¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°They die easily?¡± Lily said.


    ¡°They are scared easily,¡± Asmod said. ¡°Isn''t that what you are implying?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yes, humanity''s fears have shaped cultures and civilizations and helped them form the laws that human society functions upon,¡± I said. ¡°If the drakes have managed to convince these same humans to come to their restaurants with their families and enjoy their meals, doesn''t that mean the drakes are doing something right?¡±


    ¡°That just means humans trust their own dumb law system,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°They think it''s enough to pacify drakes. They come here because they feel powerful about getting served by the distant cousins of dragons.¡±


    I smirked at the cat and said, ¡°Or maybe, the drakes just know how to run their business?¡±


    That''s when Alsyrra arrived with a large tray of food. Lily had excitedly ordered a leviathan fillet and Asmod was having basilisk stew. Smokewell was given a bowl of raw fish called Grokish. I had been more uncertain about my choice since everything on the menu were just creatures from the fairy tales from my world. In the end I''d settled for the one that had the most pedestrian name. Magma Steak.


    Alysrra said that the meat came from a creature called a pyro boar. ¡°Its body is forever inflamed and forever healing. So the meat has a natural smoky texture and we douse it in our special sauce,¡± she had said. ¡°It''s a recommended beginner dish around here.¡±


    And when she served it to me, it didn''t look bad. The meat was actually smoking hot and had a bright flaming red color to it. A slightly lighter red color of sauce had been drizzled over it and garnished with a small blue flower that had an almost ethereal scent.


    I took a bite. And all I could say after swallowing was, ¡°Wow.¡±


    I ended up having seconds. And then thirds. I would''ve had fourths if my stomach wasn''t the size of a normal human''s. I leaned back in my seat and let out a breath with some labor.


    Asmod ordered a round of ale after everyone was done eating. I took a sip and looked at everyone at my table. ¡°God, I lost my train of thought for a second there.¡± I rubbed my temples and looked away. I saw other people at the table, smiling, laughing and having the kind of time with their families that I didn''t remember having in mu previous life. Then I saw Alsyrra, going from table to table, asking if anyone needed anything, fetching orders and delivering meals. She was nimble on her feet and good at her job. People kept coming in and Alsyrra was swift to attend to them. I turned back to my party. ¡°We need to start a business,¡± I said.


    ¡°Business?¡± Lily said.


    ¡°You inspired by the drakes to open a restaurant?¡± Smokewell said.


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°I don''t know, are you gonna be a super waitress like Alsyrra?¡±


    The cat threw a silent glare which I ignored. I leaned forward. ¡°The payment from Hammer might last us a several weeks even after we find a place to live for ourselves,¡± I said. ¡°But we''ll need a steady source of income. A business that won''t bite us in the back like¡­¡± I lowered my voice several notches and said, ¡°like commissioned witchcraft. So no divinations and fortune telling in my case.¡±


    ¡°What about selling potions?¡± Lily asked.


    ¡°How the potions are crafted can be determined by a detection ritual,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°But that''s only if the potion you make gets scrutinized by the government. So as long as you aren''t selling lock burning acids to thugs and thieves, you should be fine, I believe.¡±


    ¡°Don''t forget the Ministry of Arcane Regulations,¡± Asmod said, ¡°They have a Healthy Safety Division that conducts inspections on the products that the potion crafters and such sell.¡±


    ¡°What about the underground market?¡± Lily said quietly. ¡°I''ve heard that it''s a thing.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± Asmod said. ¡°But after all that you''ve been through just to get your names cleared, I don''t think it''ll be good for you to get involved with that.¡±


    ¡°There are also the bones,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°We still haven''t taken care of those.¡±


    ¡°So the business needs to be something safe, steady and doesn''t make the government suspicious of us,¡± I said. ¡°We''ll put a pin on that. There''s still time to come up with an idea like that. Let''s talk about a more urgent need now.¡±


    All three pairs of eyes turned to me. ¡°We have to find a place to live.¡± As soon as I said that, the ground began to shake.

 31. Hunt for a home

    Three days later.


    Earthquakes pretty much became a thing by the time we returned from Pallport. The first one came when we were at Volcano Lane. But the other one struck almost the moment we boarded off at Orowen.


    The next one came the next morning. Then the morning after that. And also today. After the whirlwind week that was behind us, we weren''t really affected by a little shaky ground. So Lily, Asmod, Smokewell and I had simply walked out of the Nook and waited under the open sky for the tremors to stop.


    They stopped after about five minutes.


    The cat stretched her back and gave a yawn. ¡°I''m going to go and resume my nap.¡± She started back towards the store.


    I didn''t let her get too far and lifted her off the ground. ¡°Forget it. You are coming with us.¡±


    The feline looked puzzled. ¡°Coming where?¡±


    ¡°To find an apartment!¡± Lily hopped up and down excitedly.


    Smokewell didn''t share the enthusiasm. ¡°You are the ones who are supposed to go and find the house. I''ll come when we will be ready to move in.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Then we''ll make you pay the rent.¡±


    ¡°Cats don''t have to pay rent,¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°Okay. Then we''ll just take your share of the reward that Hammer gave us,¡± I said. ¡°Lily?¡±


    ¡°Already did.¡± The girl waved a pouch full of steambolts. The coins chimed inside the fabric.


    ¡°I''ll snatch your soul!¡± Smokewell snapped.


    ¡°That''s enough whining for the morning.¡± I held the cat under my arm like she was a bundle of blankets. ¡°It''s time to get moving now.¡±


    We waved our goodbyes to Asmod before we left to hunt for a home.


    ****


    Lily and I had circled some advertisements for apartments on rent in the newspapers. We weren''t looking for anything fancy. But now that we had some real money in our hands, we also wanted something more than a place to squat.


    According to old Elsa''s memories, the places we lived in weren''t really something we could''ve called a home. They were places to sleep. Places to hide from the Inquisition. Places to lie low in. Places to operate from. But no homes.


    I wasn''t sure if this place we were headed towards was going to be any different. But it was certainly going to be more than what we''d had until now.


    Our first stop was a tenement in Hobvale Avenue. It looked like a respectable neighborhood with a coffee shop a few paces down the road and a tram stop that was a few paces from the coffee shop. The building was owned by some kind of real estate tycoon of this time and world.


    That meant the price was going to be higher than usual but we also had an agent to give us a little tour. He was a guy named Louis Porter who looked like a candidate for a science experiment that had gone wrong. Big, bulging bloodshot eyes that watched our every movement with almost terrifying attentiveness, a nose that was slender as a breadstick and a pair of rodent buck teeth sticking out from under a pale upper lip. He had a non-existent chin and a neck long enough to make an ostrich proud. And when he spoke, the words were breathy and thin.


    "I''m Mr. Porter and you must be the ones that put in the request for a tour?" he said, shaking our hands. He was dressed in a business suit that mostly hung limp on his scrawny frame. And a smoky glass ball was hanging by a chain around his neck like a pendant.


    "Yes. I''m Elsa Grimly. I sent the telegram," I said, not letting his handshake linger.


    "A pleasure to meet you all," he said. "You ladies can rest assured that this is the safest neighborhood in Orowen." He swept his arm across the street. "It''s all thanks to the Steam Elemental and the work of our diligent Internal Police."


    I could hear a muffled sound from Lily, which was probably a groan. And Smokewell gave a soft hiss on my shoulder.


    Porter''s big eyes bulged even further at the sight of the black cat. "Is that your house pet?" he said, a little uncertain.


    "She is a part of our family, yes." Lily said defensively.


    "Oh, I see."


    "Are pets not allowed in this building?" I said.


    "No, no, that''s not the case." He shook his head. "It''s just...black cats are an odd choice for a pet since--"


    "No, we don''t care. Can we just begin the tour?" Lily said.


    "Certainly, certainly." Porter nodded nervously, his hand going to the glass ball on his chain.


    He led us inside the building and up the flight of stairs to the third floor. His sales pitch involved listing the nearby grocery stores and restaurants and how only all the respectable people frequented these places. "Also, lets not forget the Holy House of the Steam Elemental that is just two streets down the road. A person needs to be in touch with the divine to be truly happy."


    "Another Steam Elemental house?" I said. "Isn''t there one on Eternity Square too?"


    Porter nodded. "There are four such Holy Houses in Orowen. And for good reason, afterall--"


    "No, we still don''t care," Lily said as she pushed the apartment door open and walked inside. I followed. Porter hurried after us.


    "As you can see, the sitting room is spacious," Porter waved his scrawny arms again to show how big the room was. "You can have a couch here, a few more chairs and a coffee table to host more than a few guests."


    "We don''t get many guests," Lily said.


    "Also, look here." Porter moved to the corner of the room. "You can put a piano here to liven up the evening or even put your cat''s bed for her to lounge in."


    "None of us plays piano," I said.


    Porter took us to the kitchen next. "The counter is big enough for two people to cook together, there''s also that small nook in the wall that can be a mini-pantry. You get drinkable water throughout the day. Also, look at all these cabinets for your fancy crockery and cutlery."


    "We don''t have either of those," Lily said and wandered over to the bedrooms.


    "You''ll get two bedrooms. Both of them are the same size. Both of them big enough to have a king sized bed, dressing screen over there and a dresser mirror to admire your beautiful faces in." Porter gave us a smile that had my soul cringing inside me. "And look here!" he pointed at the window. "Isn''t the view beautiful?"


    "Uh...it''s just more buildings." Lily shrugged.


    "No, but look over there, can''t you see the steam rising in the sky?" he pointed at the pyramid of the Holy House in a little distance. "Now, isn''t that just the view to wake up to? Just waking up and feeling so close to a god that actually exists?"


    "No, I want to see the bathroom first," Lily said and left the bedroom.


    "Yes, yes. Let me show you to the bathroom." he opened the door in the hallway leading to a fairly big bathroom. "All the fittings are made of brass and look at that gorgeous little bath tub for you beautiful ladies to soak yourselves in." Porter showed us that he took his job seriously and actually laid down in the tub to show us just how relaxing it was. "Now, tell me you wouldn''t want to be down here with me--I mean, in my place?"


    "Heavens no," Lily and I said in unison.


    Fortunately, he kept the toilet tour a lot more brief and lot less demonstrative than the bathroom tour and led us back to the sitting room. "And I can guarantee you that you''ll be happy and comfortable in a place this big and safe at the rent of just five hundred steambolts a year," he said. "Other than that you get a chance to be a part of the neighborhood associations that host all kinds of gatherings. One of which involves a weekly visit to the Holy House to cleanse the spirit and soul."


    "Isn''t there a way to opt out of that thing?" I asked.


    "Of course, you can." Porter nodded. "But I won''t recommend it. As you see, dark magic is a danger to our humble society. We live in a world where anyone can be bewitched or cursed. It''s important to stay in touch with the divine so that we may not lose our way."


    "Um, you do know that there are witchcraft covens that work along with the government?" Lily said. "They just had to sign that agreement and they are living with everyone else. Like everyone else."


    "Yes but that doesn''t mean that the dark magic is any less dangerous." Porter''s voice was deep with a paranoia that people of faith often had when they spoke of things that their faith deemed dangerous. "As a man in a business of housing and people, I''ve seen too many families that have succumbed to the dark magic. Too many homes destroyed by humanity''s sinfulness. We need to build a strong community around our faith to battle the forces of the dark."


    Lily and I just watched the real estate agent. "You know what? Give us a moment so we can discuss if we want to sign up for this place," I said.


    "Certainly, certainly. I''ll wait outside," he said and walked out of the apartment.


    Smokewell hopped off my shoulder. "Before you decide to take a vote, let me tell you, no," the cat said. "We aren''t buying this place."


    "But it looks so good!" Lily said.


    I raised an eyebrow. "Weren''t you acting uninterested for the entire tour?" I said.


    "That''s a purchase tactic, Miss Elsa" Lily said in a conspiratorial tone. "I was acting uninterested so he would feel more eager to sell the place to us. That way the ball will be in our court and we could bargain a price we want."


    "That''s clever," Smokewell said, "We''re still not buying this."


    "Why not?!" Lily said. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    "Because I don''t want to be a part of any Steam Elemental masturbatory group," Smokewell said.


    I lifted the cat off the ground. "Keep your voice down. And yes, this may be one of those times I actually whole heartedly agree with you. That agent is creepy at best and a cuckoo in the head at worst."


    The cat nodded and turned to Lily again, "Also, stop calling those agreement covens ''witches''. They aren''t. They are dogs on the government''s leash. We are the last witches in Ravenwind, remember?"


    Lily rolled her eyes. "I get it! We aren''t buying this house. Let''s just get going then."


    And so we did.


    ****


    Next stop was an apartment building on Mingate Street. The area wasn''t as high profile as the previous one. The apartment building was also a lot smaller--only two-stories tall and all brick and mortar.


    The landlady was some old woman who was rumored to be a baroness of some time. She had sold off her dead husband''s fortune and come to live in the city to be along with people rather than living on some big estate alone.


    Her name was Beatrice Dalley and she looked like something out of a children''s fairytale. Silk dress, walking cane, half moon glasses and a cotton bonnet on white hair. "Would you kids like some cookies?" she said in a motherly voice, opening a jar full of biscuits when we told her the purpose of our visit.


    "Of course!" Lily snatched a cookie before anyone could stop her.


    "Oh, its always a pleasure to host such lively young women," Beatrice said, her friendly wrinkled face wrinkling further as she smiled.


    I gave a polite smile in return and said, "You are very kind, Miss Beatrice. If you don''t mind, we would like to see the apartment right away."


    The old woman nodded and led us to an apartment down the hallway. She told us that the building used to be her late husband''s office that she had renovated to what we saw. "He was a man who liked to support the community he lived in. I think this is what he might''ve wanted too."


    "That sounds very nice, Miss Beatrice," I said.


    Smokewell was rolling her eyes on my shoulder as the old woman kept monologuing.


    "We mostly have families living here," Beatrice said. "I love the sound of children playing in the hallways. We also have a playground in the back with a swing and slide for them."


    "That''s very sweet, Miss Beatrice," I said. Smokewell rolled her eyes again.


    Even though the building wasn''t that big, the apartment that she showed was bigger than the one we''d seen in Hobvale. It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms and it came pre-furnished. The furniture looked vintage and expensive. I felt a bit uncertain as I looked at the place she was showing. "Are you sure the rent here is just 300 steambolts a year?" I said.


    "Of course, dear. Why would I lie?" Beatrice said with her motherly smile.


    "But, this place looks quite big--"


    "Bah." She waved a wrinkled hand at me. "It won''t be big enough once you bring the children."


    Lily cocked her head. "What children?"


    "Your children of course," she said.


    "Um, Neither of us are married, Miss Beatrice," I said.


    "So?" the old woman said, "It''s not like you are going to die a spinster, are you?"


    "Trust me. I, at least, am not looking to fall in love anytime soon," I said.


    "That''s what I used to say at your age, too, young lady," Beatrice said. "But then I met Mr. Dalley and I wanted nothing more than to be with him."


    "That''s nice but--"


    "Let me give you some wisdom I''ve acquired over the years," she said. "Everyone falls in love. Everyone! Especially the ones who are sure they don''t need love. In fact, they are the ones that fall the hardest!" She stamped the ground with her cane as if to emphasise her point.


    "Woah, okay. I get it, you don''t have to--"


    "You should listen to your elders. The best thing that can happen to a girl is marriage. And bearing lots and lots of healthy children."


    "You know what? Maybe we''ll come back in the evening and tell you if we want to buy the place or not." I took a step back, gesturing Lily to follow.


    Beatrice followed our movements with her eyes that were set deep in her wrinkled face. "I hope you do buy this place. You shouldn''t waste your beauty like that by dying alone. You can even offer this house to your husband as a dowry. Nothing convinces a man into marriage more than a promise of a stable home." She started moving towards us.


    I frowned. ¡°How can I sell this place? You are the legal owner.¡±


    ¡°You can buy it if you want to settle down here along with your husband and children. You can buy it for just fifteen hundred steambolts.¡± She took another step forward.


    "Okay, we''re out." I grabbed Lily''s hand and yanked her after me, out of the apartment and down the hallway.


    "You can''t keep running forever!" the old woman called out in a shrill voice. "Love spares no one! No one!"


    ****


    Lily groaned when we halted a few yards down the road. ¡°Are we going to buy a place or just run around?¡±


    ¡°Really? You were ready to live there?¡± Smokewell said. ¡°I was older than that goat when I died and even I found her ideas to be ancient.¡±


    ¡°But she was offering separate bathrooms!¡± Lily said.


    ¡°Not worth it, Lily.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Not worth it.¡± I heaved a sigh and looked up at the sun, squinting my eyes. It was almost afternoon now. ¡°Let''s check one more place and stop somewhere for a coffee.¡±


    We hailed a steam carriage and rode it to Lillcairn street. The building was three stories high and the landlord was a tobacco chewing, monocle wearing, tweed jacketed clerk type guy.


    His office was a small room to the right of the entrance door. The wall behind his chair was covered by bookshelves that held up thick leather tomes. On top of his desk was a plaque that read: Wesley Ainsworth (Owner).


    ¡°So you are looking for a place to live?¡± He said, his mouth perpetually busy chewing on tobacco as he leaned back in his chair and took in each of our faces. ¡°Can I see some identification?¡± he asked.


    I showed him a provisional ration card I''d gotten myself yesterday. Hopper knew some officer at the city council who knew the ration department guy so the rest of the process was carried out swiftly.


    Ainsworth went through the document and gave a brief nod. He didn''t seem very pleased. Then his monocled eye turned to Lily. ¡°What about her?¡± he asked.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t bring her documents,¡± I said. ¡°We were hoping to get only a tour of the apartment for today.¡±


    ¡°She must have some other kind of identification,¡± Ainsworth said. ¡°A driving license. A passport. A birth certificate.¡±


    I was about to respond when something gave me a pause. Lily. She was gripping her skirt. Her movement was anxious.


    I held back a frown and looked back at the man behind the desk. ¡°We don''t have a carriage so naturally we don''t have a license either,¡± I said. ¡°As for the other documents, we didn''t feel the need to bring those since we are only looking through the apartments, as I already told you.¡±


    ¡°Perfectly reasonable.¡± Ainsworth shrugged. And then he leaned ahead, putting his arms on the desk and interlocking his fingers, his eyes intent on Lily. ¡°Maybe you should just tell me your name.¡±


    ¡°Lilian,¡± she said.


    ¡°Miss Lilian, can I know your last name?¡±


    ¡°Stark,¡± she said in a heartbeat.


    Ainsworth raised an eyebrow. ¡°Lilian Stark? That''s a nice name.¡± He leaned back in his chair. His eyes were even colder now. ¡°Are you from around here?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Lily said.


    ¡°Where are you from?¡±


    ¡°Ironfort,¡± Lily said.


    Ainsworth nodded. ¡°What does your father do?¡±


    ¡°He passed away in an accident.¡±


    ¡°What did he do when he was¨C¡± Ainsworth paused, scrunching up his nose. ¡°What is that smell?¡±


    After he mentioned, I noticed it too. A really pungent odor had invaded the crampy office. Then I realized. Smokewell was not on my lap anymore.


    ¡°This damn cat!¡± Ainsworth shrieked. ¡°She pissed on my shoe!¡±


    A black shadow leapt up from behind the desk and hopped on top of it. The man looked ready to smack her with one of the thick tomes on the shelf behind him. But he was no match to the cat''s agility.


    The feline launched herself at him and swiped her paws against his face before jumping out of the window above the shelf. Lily, who had been squirming and nervous in her chair a few moments ago, was now smiling.


    She rose up. ¡°On the second thought, Mr. Ainsworth, we don''t want to get a house here. We''ll get going.¡±


    She started on her way out. I followed her.


    Smokwell was on the sidewalk, licking her paw. She looked at us and rolled her eyes. ¡°Finally, you decided to get out of there,¡± she said. ¡°If I was that patient with nosy pricks like that when I was a human, then I''m glad I killed myself.¡±


    Lily giggled. ¡°You know, you are the best teacher I had, madam?¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Lily''s giggles turned to laughter. Then she yawned. ¡°I''m tired. Let''s get some coffee, girls.¡± She started walking.


    Smokewell and I watched her as she moved down the sidewalk. ¡°What even happened in there?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Don''t act like you don''t know,¡± the cat said, hopping onto my shoulder.


    This time I actually didn''t. Old Elsa''s memories didn''t help me remember anything about Lily that might explain why Ainsworth''s questions had made her so nervous. Or why seeing the man in agony had pleased her so much. As I focused on memories of her, I remembered that Lily''s last name wasn''t Stark. In fact, she had never told me what her last name was.


    ¡°I won''t blame her for it,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°It''s hard for her to live with what happened to her. I wouldn''t want to tell anyone about it either if I was her.¡±


    ****


    The waitress at the coffee shop brought our orders. Compared to my world, the options for beverages were way more sparse. But that was also a good thing. It meant, if you had to order a coffee, a coffee was all you got. And that''s what I''d ordered. Lily was having hot chocolate. And we''d asked for a bowl of milk for Smokewell. And the cafe owners were kind enough to oblige.


    I was still curious about what had happened at Ainsworth''s place. But seeing that Lily was back in her usual cheery attitude, I decided to refrain from prying. I took a sip of coffee and Lily let out a heavy sigh.


    She was looking out at the sun. It was close to evening now.


    ¡°So, did we just waste our day today?¡± Lily said.


    ¡°Things like these are bound to happen, Lily.¡± I took a sip of my coffee. ¡°The time and place that we are living in isn''t very¨C¡±


    ¡°You!¡± someone chirped out of the blue, making me almost choke on my drink.


    I turned to look at the person and it was the woman who had been about to jump out of the clock tower when we first met her. Lenora Desmond. ¡°I thought I would never get to see you again!¡± she cried out in joy.


    Everyone at the coffee shop was staring at us now. ¡°Keep it down, woman,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°We are busy mourning our bad luck.¡±


    Lenora gasped in wonder. ¡°The cat still talks!¡±


    I groaned and pinched Smokewell''s ear. ¡°Stop talking in public places, you''re grabbing a lot more attention than her,¡± I warned in a hushed whisper.


    Lenora dragged a chair from a nearby table and made herself comfortable alongside us. ¡°You wouldn''t believe how happy I am to see you,¡± she said. ¡°Also, I''m not Lenora Desmond anymore.¡±


    Her smile got smaller but her eyes looked a lot more serene as she told us about her divorce with her husband. ¡°Ever since I became Lenora Griffin again, I just feel¡­at ease,¡± she said. ¡°It feels so weird now that I think about what I was putting up with in my marriage. The constant interrogation, the constant suspicion. But, I don''t have to live through any of that now.¡± Then she looked at each of us. ¡°And I have you all to thank for that. For making me realize what I was doing to myself.¡±


    I cleared my throat nervously. What was I supposed to say to that now? ¡°You''re welcome.¡± I nodded.


    Lenora nodded back and leaned ahead. ¡°Also, I feel terrible right now because you all didn''t even tell me your names the first time we met.¡±


    ****


    So we told her our names. She brought everyone another round of beverages and also cookies to go with them. Then she asked us about what we were mourning before she barged in on us.


    I was still hesitant to speak. But Lily wasn''t. So she told her about our adventures since the morning and our bad luck with finding a good house.


    Lenora gave it a thought before I saw a flicker of something in her eyes. She looked at us. ¡°You know what? I''ve been in a similar situation for a while now,¡± she said. ¡°I do have a place to live right now but well¡­it''s not really a home, if you know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we get what you mean. We get it very well.¡± Lily nodded.


    ¡°But there''s a solution to our problem,¡± Lenora said.


    ¡°Our?¡± I said.


    Lenora grinned. ¡°Let me take you to a place I had my eye on since before my divorce.¡±

 32. Getting along with housemates

    Lenora took us to an Orowen suburb called the Burning Bend. The house she showed us was made of stone and it stood alone on a nearly bald patch of slightly upraised land. The structure was two stories tall, had a stone walkway leading up to the main door and the windows were completely dark. And since the sun was almost down, the place looked even more gloomy.


    It wasn''t hard to guess that no one lived here. The landlord lived in a smaller house on a slightly lower ground a few hundred metres from the first building.


    Lenora took us down to the second house and knocked at the door.


    The door didn''t open but an old man¡¯s gruff voice called out from inside. ¡°Didn''t I tell you I''m not renting the place to¨C¡±


    ¡°Yes, I got two other people who are going to live with me,¡± Lenora said. ¡°The condition is met. Will you let us live there now?¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence before a small window opened within the door and a bundle of papers slid out of the gap. ¡°Read the papers, sign it and slide it under the door tomorrow when you come with your luggage,¡± the man said. ¡°You''ll get the keys to the place once you sign the documents.¡±


    Lily, Smokewell and I exchanged glances. ¡°Just like that?¡± I said.


    ¡°What, you want me to throw you a banquet cuz you rented the place?¡± the man scoffed. ¡°Just come tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Um, we don''t have much luggage, so can we move in today, maybe?¡± Lily said.


    ¡°I told you to come tomorrow morning!¡± the voice snapped.


    ¡°Okay, okay, we''ll come tomorrow,¡± I said.


    We left with the papers. Lenora and the three of us stopped at a restaurant on the way for dinner. We read the documents while we were having desserts.


    Lenora paid for the food because she still felt too grateful for the advice we''d given her to leave her husband. We parted ways after our bellies were full and slept like logs till the sun was shining in our faces.


    Next morning, I packed everything up and so did Lily. I packed Yazara''s golden bones in a separate bundle and stashed it in my suitcase.


    We had one last round of ale with Asmod before we got up to leave. The short man shook our hands with his usual fatherly smile. ¡°Just don''t forget to show up when you need any kind of help,¡± he said.


    ¡°Oh you won''t be getting rid of us anytime soon, Asmod,¡± I said, smiling back.


    ¡°I hope not,¡± he said.


    Then Smokewell stepped up to the man and bowed her head. ¡°I appreciate everything you did for us. The girls and I wouldn''t have been safe in our current predicament without your help. So remember that you can ask for help whenever you want too.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes I will,¡± he said, nodding.


    And then we left for the Burning Bend. ¡°I forgot to bring this up last night,¡± Smokewell said as we got off the tram that took us to the suburb. ¡°You two are fine with living in this middle of nowhere place?¡±


    ¡°Wouldn''t it be better to maintain a low profile for now?¡± I asked. ¡°Our names are off the list. But we shouldn''t try to do something just yet that might call attention to us. One of the reasons why I didn''t try contacting Hammer to help us with the housing situation. Now that he is the heir to his father''s fortune, he is going to have people keeping an eye on his activities. We need to establish some kind of stability for ourselves before we start getting more indebted to other people.¡±


    ¡°Stability like starting a business?¡± Lily said.


    ¡°Yes, that idea is still on the back burner,¡± I said. ¡°But we don''t have to worry about it at this moment. Let''s focus on getting settled in our new home first.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of getting settled,¡± Smokewell said, ¡°What about Miss-newly-divorced-sunshine-and-rainbows? Are we really going to share the place with her?¡±


    ¡°How about you try being nicer for once?¡± I said. ¡°Lenora has been nothing but nice to us. And she is the one who showed us the place. Let''s try being nice in return, shall we?¡±


    ¡°I wasn''t talking about that, you nimrod,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°I was asking if I''m supposed to talk in front of her or not? What about when she catches me talking to you both?¡±


    I sighed.


    ¡°Yes, Miss Elsa, I was wondering about this too last night,¡± Lily said. ¡°Because when we met her for the first time, she was about to--well you know what she was doing. And we told her Madam Smokewell is actually the Spirit of Darkness. Are we still sticking to that storyline? But if we do then there¡¯s also the news that came a few days ago. About the green blood theory being false and there not being a Spirit of Darkness.¡±


    ¡°You do know where this is headed, right?¡± Smokewell said. ¡°We''ll only have one real answer to give her.¡±


    ¡°We are witches,¡± Lily said. ¡°That''s the only real answer that we can give her.¡±


    ¡°And that woman had been soiling herself at the thought of being cursed or bewitched when we first met her,¡± Smokewell said.


    I groaned, rubbing my forehead. ¡°What are you two suggesting then? We just tell her that we are witches?¡±


    ¡°No, I have a better idea,¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°I have an idea too!¡± Lily raised her hand. ¡°I''ll go first.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The cat hissed at the girl. ¡°Have you forgotten who taught you witchcraft? If I say I go first, I will go first,¡± Smokewell said.


    I groaned again. ¡°Madam, with all due respect, I know whatever you are going to say is going to be unhinged so I''ll let Lily go first.¡±


    Smokewell hissed at me next. ¡°Who are you to decide?!¡±


    Without another word, I pulled out my hand mirror from my reticule and shone the reflected sunlight on a tree bark. The unsteady spot of light grabbed the cat''s attention right away and she jumped at it just as quickly.


    Lily got the signal to put forth her idea. ¡°We''ll put a hex on Lenora,¡± she said. ¡°Each time she tries to bring up the topic of Madam being able to talk, she''ll get diarrhoea.¡±


    ¡°Bad idea.¡± I put the mirror back in my reticule.


    Smokewell was back to being a human in a cat''s body. She glared at me. ¡°You dare distract me with¨C¡±


    ¡°Just tell your damn idea, already,¡± I said.


    ¡°My idea is quite simple and way more effective than Lily''s juvenile hex,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°I''ll just snatch her soul and trap it in this.¡± She brandished her ivory opium pipe. The blue light was still swirling within the well of the pipe.


    ¡°No, we aren''t doing that either,¡± I said, unamused.


    ¡°That idea has merit, I won¡¯t lie,¡± Lily said. ¡°There are ways to reanimate a soulless body with witchcraft. We can turn her into a flesh puppet so no one will get suspicious. I know it''s a despicable thing to do but its a choice between the risk of getting arrested and, well, doing the right thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I like your thinking,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°We can make her do all the housework too.¡±


    ¡°We aren''t doing any of that!¡± I snapped.


    ¡°And who are you to decide?!¡± Smokewell hissed again.


    ¡°We are not going to curse or de-soul someone who literally helped us find a house to live in, period. We are still humans here. Let''s act like humans.¡± I said.


    Smokewell scoffed. ¡°Speak for yourself. I don''t have to follow human etiquettes anymore.¡±


    ¡°No you don''t.¡± I pulled out my hand mirror again.


    Smokewell started chasing the reflection of the sunlight again.


    ****


    As we¡¯d decided, Lenora met us at the stone walkway of the house in Burning Bend. In the broad daylight I got to see the sign at the entrance of our neighborhood: Ashmeadows.


    I still couldn''t get the logic behind these names. There were maple trees lining the road. Birds were singing their songs through the leaves. Everything looked bright and sunny up to that barren plot where our new house was situated. Why were all the names so¡­edgy?


    ¡°I hope we didn''t keep you waiting for too long, Miss Lenora,¡± Lily said.


    ¡°No, I only arrived a few minutes ago.¡± She shook her head. She was wearing a floral summer dress and a straw hat. ¡°I submitted the papers and look what I got.¡±


    She waved three keys on a ring. She handed two of them to Lily and I and kept the third one for herself.


    We lugged our bags up the steps and to the door. In the broad daylight, I got to take a better look at the house. It was all made of stone but it looked a lot less spooky now. The windows looked like they would give great ventilation. Lenora unlocked the door.


    The lower floor had the kitchen, sitting room and the pantry. The level above it had the bedrooms and bathroom. There was also a balcony.


    From what I''d seen yesterday, I expected the house to be covered in grime and dirt and riddled with cobwebs. Yet there was barely any sign of filth anywhere. The furniture was spotless, the rugs were clean, the dishes and pots in the kitchen looked ready to use. The air was fresh. There was no musty scent of old, restricted places. It was as good as it could''ve been.


    And the rent was just three hundred steambolts a year.


    ¡°The one problem I''d point out is that,¡± Lenora said as we explored the rooms, ¡°we''ll have to commute a bit for groceries.¡±


    We went out the backdoor and looked out at the grassless backyard. ¡°But who knows, maybe with the landlord''s permission, we might even be able to plant vegetables here in the back.¡±


    I gave a nod and looked at Lenora. She looked really happy. Really relieved. The relief that one has of coming back home after a long day.


    Lily stepped up next to me, Smokewell was in her arms. Their faces were uncertain.


    ¡°You know, Elsa?¡± Lenora said. ¡°There was another reason I wanted to see you.¡±


    I swallowed hard. ¡°What was it about?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking about you all after I left Clyde''s home,¡± she said. ¡°I wanted to see you all. I wanted to ask all the questions I''d had. A part of me was still convinced that I could curse people to death. I was even reckless enough to try it out again. Of course, I failed. I was just a regular human being. That''s when I thought of you. Thought of your cat that could talk. Thought of how your friend, Lilian, had used her doll to knock Clyde unconscious in a heartbeat.¡± Lenora turned to us and regarded us with undivided attention. ¡°Then that news about the green blood theory being false came out. Which means the Spirit of Darkness was also false. That just means one thing, doesn''t it?¡±


    Oh no, she was getting too close to the¨C


    ¡°You are all fairies, aren''t you?¡± Lenora said.


    ¡°Wait what?¡± I said.


    Lenora''s expression faltered. ¡°F-Fairies. You appeared when I was at a depressing time in my life. You helped me out and disappeared. It''s just like the stories my mum used to tell me.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Lily shook her head. ¡°You can''t be any further from the truth.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­what are you?¡± Lenora asked.


    Lily hesitated. Smokewell still looked uncertain. I sighed and said, ¡°We are witches, Lenora.¡±


    The woman paused. I was surprised to see that she looked more disappointed than offended or disgusted or even scared. ¡°You¡­you really aren''t fairies?¡±


    ¡°No, Lenora,¡± I said. ¡°We aren''t fairies from your mom''s bedtime stories. We are witches. We have a black cat with us for God''s sake. Why do you think we carry her around with us? She isn''t even cute.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Smokewell snapped.


    ¡°I brought my own broom with me. You think I have it with me to clear the cobwebs? No.¡± I shook my head.


    ¡°You can fly on a broom?¡± Lenora asked with wide eyes.


    ¡°No. She can''t even make it hover,¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°We are witches, Lenora,¡± I said. ¡°Not fairies, not elves and certainly no monsters. Just witches.¡±


    Lenora paused and looked between me and Lily and Smokewell.


    This time, Lily broke the silence. ¡°Does that fact¡­make you uncomfortable to live with us, Miss Lenora?¡±


    A faint smile, curled Lenora''s lips. ¡°I don''t think so. Even if you aren''t fairies, I''m still indebted to you. And still very grateful.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Lily said.


    Lenora nodded. ¡°You are good people. I can tell.¡±


    Lily winced. ¡°Oh no. Now I feel bad for considering turning you into a flesh puppet.¡±


    ¡°Turning me into what?!¡±

 33. Talking bones

    ¡°Ha ha ha ha!¡±


    Lenora took a deep breath and brushed away a strand of hair falling in her face. ¡°I can''t believe your conversations are that unhinged,¡± she said, ghosts of her raucous laughter still lingering in her words. ¡°It must never be a dull moment with you all.¡±


    ¡°You bet there isn''t,¡± Lily said and took a big gulp of the expensive champagne Lenora had brought along for housewarming.


    We were in the sitting room, getting drunk and laughing like idiots. I couldn''t tell when we ended up here. But I certainly wasn''t complaining.


    ¡°Your ability to enjoy a joke like that is commendable,¡± Smokewell said to Lenora. ¡°I think you''ll eventually grow on me.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit, Smokewell just gave a compliment!¡± I said. ¡°And to a non-magic user!¡±


    ¡°I mean, what can I say? It''s hard to resist my charms.¡± Lenora gave a drunken smile and shrugged. She reached out to scratch the cat behind the ear.


    The feline purred and then she glared at the woman. ¡°Don''t you dare do that again.¡±


    Lenora chuckled and pulled back after giving Smokewell another scratch. ¡°So you all are on the run from the Inquisition?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Not anymore,¡± Lily said. ¡°Without going into too many details¡­let''s just say we are now at a stage where we can sign our real names on documents without the government raising their eyebrows in suspicion.¡±


    ¡°So it means, you still aren''t out of the woods yet?¡± Lenora said.


    ¡°Yeah, I mean, the Inquisition won''t come after us just because we exist now but if we start a business that centres around witchcraft then they have a good reason to,¡± I said.


    ¡°So, you''ve put a stop on all your practices?¡± Lenora asked.


    ¡°Well, we aren''t offering any kind of services anymore,¡± Lily said. ¡°But we do use witchcraft for the kind of things that make everyday life easier.¡±


    Lenora leaned in curiously. ¡°Oh, like what?¡±


    Before any of us could answer, the ground began to shake. Another earthquake. I rolled my eyes and helped Lenora to her feet. Lily lifted Smokewell in her arms and we stepped out of the house.


    ¡°If I give you some flour, eggs and milk, can you turn it into bread?¡± Lenora asked, still a bit tipsy.


    ¡°Yes, but I think anyone can do that. And you don''t need witchcraft for that,¡± Smokewell said.


    ¡°If I gave you that piece of brick, can you turn that into gold?¡± Lenora said.


    ¡°First of all, that''s not witchcraft, that''s transmutation magic that alchemists do,¡± I said, using old Elsa¡¯s memories. ¡°And secondly, if we could just snap our fingers and turn stones into gold, we would''ve been living in a bigger house.¡±


    ¡°Can you snap your fingers and turn a person into an animal?¡± Lenora asked.


    ¡°The only person I know who has turned a human into an animal is Madam Smokewell,¡± Lily said, raising the cat. ¡°But she only did it to herself.¡±


    ¡°And the process was more complicated than snapping fingers,¡± I said.


    ¡°And I didn''t literally turn my human form into an animal one, you fools,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°I transferred my soul from my human body to this one.¡±


    Lenora squinted at us, confused. ¡°Then what can witches do?¡±


    By the time she asked that question the ground had stopped trembling. And while Lily and I were still thinking of an answer for her question, Lenora heaved and puked on the ground, right there on the doorstep.


    I braced the woman before she could fall in the puddle of her own vomit. Lily clicked her tongue and let go of the cat. She lunged inside the house to avoid stepping on Lenora¡¯s handiwork on the ground. Then she came back with a glass bottle filled with an orange liquid.


    She emptied the bottle on the filth on the ground and then she said, ¡°Mundare.¡±


    And the threshold was spotless once again, as if no one had ever thrown up there. ¡°See Lenora? That''s what¨C¡± I stopped when I saw the woman had passed out against me.


    I sighed and said, ¡°Yeah, that''s what witchcraft can do.¡±


    ****


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    We put Lenora on the couch in the front, letting her sleep until she woke up with a hangover. I went to check the pantry and it wasn''t surprising to find that it was nearly empty. So I made Lily and Smokewell go and get some from the market.


    ¡°Why me?¡± Smokewell said when I told Lily to take the cat with her.


    ¡°Because we know you''ll just stay in and sleep and eventually you''ll get used to staying and sleeping all day,¡± I said.


    ¡°That''s the worst excuse¨C¡±


    ¡°I''ll get going, don''t worry, Miss Elsa.¡± Lily hauled the cat off the ground and started on her way out.


    I managed to make them leave while I stayed at home because I told them I was going to prepare the beds for everyone. Since when we checked, the mattresses had been stowed away in the closets. And they needed to be dusted before we could use them.


    But that was only an excuse. The real reason was that I wanted some privacy for what I wanted to do next.


    I pulled out the obsidian key Hopper had given me.


    I knew I wouldn''t be able to uncover everything I wanted to about this object right away. But I also had been thinking of ways to understand its purpose ever since it came into my possession.


    Hopper had said the key was given to him by a ¡®voice¡¯ from beyond the veil. I didn''t know what the key was supposed to unlock but Hopper told me that since it was supposed to be owned by me, it meant I could figure out how to use it.


    I did have a theory that maybe the key allowed me to enter the world beyond the veil. And the only reason I had that theory was because I felt it was old Elsa who had communicated with Hopper and she wanted to see me so she gave me this object that could allow me to pass into that world. Either it would help me get a passage or maybe help me communicate with her. This theory also depended on the fact that old Elsa''s soul had gone to the world beyond the veil and not anywhere else.


    But I also had another theory which was much less complicated and pointed towards something much more dangerous. The key was a passage towards a trap. And it was someone dangerous who had made Eidolon give me the key. What would this stranger want to do with me, I wasn''t sure.


    Still I was curious. But since the danger of invading the world beyond the veil was quite real, I had to be more cautious about it.


    I had to find out as much as I could about this key and its purpose before I decided to use it how it was supposed to be used. So I set about doing what I''d decided.


    ****


    Old Elsa had been making some milk money from doing divinations for people before the Regulated Practices drama began. So one of things in her possession had been a book named ¡®A Fool¡¯s Guide to Divination¡¯.


    It talked about several methods of divining things. Methods that involved witchcraft and also methods from other schools of magic. I had been going through the sections of the book for a few days before I finally settled on one.


    It was called the ¡®Osteodial¡¯ method. It involved building a device that you could use to seek certain answers using divination. I preferred this method because the device was handy, easy to use and it was quick to build.


    Witchcraft rituals drew power from a witch''s ¡®malice¡¯. It was present in a witch''s bones since birth. It was what allowed her the capability to perform witchcraft.


    Malice could take various forms and made different changes in different witches. Like in Lilian¡¯s case, whose malice was wrath, so her inherent powers centered around physical aggression. It made her stronger than an average human. It was what allowed her to bend steel with bare hands and throw people around like rag dolls.


    How a child was born with malice, no one had figured out yet. But this malice was what the common folk called a ¡®curse¡¯. And that''s where the popular misconception of being cursed led one to being witches came from.


    When we returned from Pallport, I''d deliberately dug into all the questions I had come up with over the course of the week. About all the new things I''d learnt and the people I knew and the world I was living in. That''s when I managed to learn about malice from old Elsa''s memories.


    I''d also figured out what old Elsa''s (and now my own) malice was. It was knowledge. That''s what it was called at least. It had gifted old Elsa with an above average intelligence and a higher speed of understanding concepts and things. That had also explained why I had been able to carry out the liberation and the dismantling ritual so spontaneously.


    And that was also the reason why I understood the principle behind the Osteodial just after giving it a single read.


    The device had three parts: the base, the substratum, the pointer.


    The base and substratum were supposed to be made of materials that were frequently used in rituals of witchcraft. The pointer was the main functional part of the device. Bone of a creature was the ideal material to make a pointer since malice can be infused easily into a bone and charge the device to carry out the divination.


    I chose to make the base with the root of the ghost sage tree. We still had some left from when we made the s¨¬th bread. The substratum was going to be the water from the moon pond. Its purpose was to neutralize the flow of malice in the device or else the excess malice would burn the device. And I was going to use one of Yazara''s bones to make the pointer.


    I chopped about half an inch thick slice of the ghost sage root with my ritual knife and made a small groove on its diameter, dividing the disk. I carved the symbols instructed in the guide on either side of the groove. And another symbol on the lower side of the disk.


    Next I pricked my finger with my knife and spread some of my blood on the grooved side of the disk. Then I took a small digit from Yazara''s bone and carved one end of it to be sharper than the other. I placed it on top of the disk painted with my blood and then it was time to pour some water from the moon pond.


    That¡¯s when something weird happened. Instead of spreading and sliding off the disk, the water seemed to solidify into a kind of jelly. And the golden bone remained fixed in its position.


    Once finished, the Osteodial looked like a poorly made sailor''s compass with just two directions. But it pretty much resembled the illustration in the guide.


    The reason I''d picked the ingredients I had was because the bread crumbs that Smokewell puffed on were made of these same ingredients. And they didn''t just allow her a glimpse into the future. But also it allowed her to make use of the world beyond the veil in the process. And Yazara wasn''t from the mortal realm. His abyss had been the strongest one I had ever extracted. Which probably meant his bone might bring a much more accurate divination result.


    ¡°I hope these factors will help in trying to understand what this key from beyond the veil does,¡± I muttered as I pulled out the obsidian object from my pocket.


    It was time to get some answers.

 34. Questions

    "It''s time for some answers," I mumbled as I drew in a breath, my eyes intent on the Osteodial.


    According to the guide, this method of divination was much more advanced than the usual ones that old Elsa used to conduct for a price. What made this method more advanced? The fact that the diviner had to interact with the world beyond the veil.


    While the divination results carried out like this were more accurate than the regular ones, they never gave a single definite answer. The reason for this divination being cryptic was the same reason why Smokewell''s bread puffing only gave us omens of the future rather than a clear vision of what is going to happen. That reason was the fragility of a mortal mind.


    Mortals are weak compared to whatever lies beyond the veil. It is not that it''s not possible to lift the veil and look beyond. It''s that you either have to hate living your life or be out of your mind to actually do it.


    I took another deep breath and focused my mind on the obsidian key in front of me. Then I focused on charging the osteodial with malice. I felt the device grow slightly heavy in my hand as my malice flowed through the symbol I''d carved on the lower side of the device. I focused on my first question.


    ''Is the place where the key comes from nearby?''


    The guide had instructed to start with a simple question to establish a stable link with the world beyond the veil. So I focused on that question and kept pushing my malice into the device.


    Then the golden bone fixed in the semi-solid, pinkish substratum started to hum. Then it started to move, slowly rotating like the needle of a compass. The pointer stopped on the symbol that represented "No" in the witchcraft symbology.


    I knew that was going to be the answer. That meant I''d formed a link with the world beyond the veil. Now I had to push a little deeper.


    I kept the flow of malice into the symbol at the bottom even and focused on my next question.


    ''Is the place where the key comes from physically reachable?''


    The device became a little heavier. The golden bone hummed softly and began to move in its place. It rotated once, twice, thrice...and then a fourth time before becoming parallel to the line I''d carved in the middle of the two symbols.


    That meant the answer could be both yes and no and neither. That answer was also expected. I could feel a slight tingling in my head as I kept charging the device with malice. My connection to the world beyond the veil was getting clearer.


    It was time to get to the real questions now.


    ''Do I know the person that sent the key into the mortal world?''


    This time the pointer moved twice before it stopped on the symbol that represented ''yes.''


    My focus almost faltered at the answer I received. I wasn''t expecting it to say that. I didn''t let my mind get too distracted and focused on the flow of my malice and moved onto the next question.


    ''Is it dangerous to use the key?''


    The pointed moved only once this time. The answer that came was ''yes''. I felt my throat running dry. I was starting to feel a bit dazed. I had to end the divination soon or else I might break the barrier between the mortal realm and the veil that separated the world beyond. The guide hadn''t gone much in depth about the dangers of it happening. But its warnings had been grave. They had to be taken seriously.


    I focused on my last question.


    ''Does the owner of the key mean harm to me?¡¯


    The device got heavier in my hand. My eyes started to feel a slight sting as I kept gazing at the pointer. The thing started to rotate again. Once...twice...thrice...then it stopped.


    The golden bone was parallel to the groove again. Neither a yes or no.


    I quickly severed the link between me and the world beyond the veil. I put the osteodial down on the coffee table and took a few steps back. My feet trembled a bit and sweat had broken out on my forehead. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.


    I poured myself a glass of water and downed it in a single gulp.


    Once my mind had cleared up and the feeling of dizziness had left me, I gathered my thoughts again.


    The conclusions that I drew from my little experiment were as follows: Firstly, the osteodial had said that I knew the person who had sent the key to the mortal realm. It might''ve also meant that maybe it was old Elsa who knew this person beyond the veil. Because I couldn''t imagine how my insignificant self might''ve formed a bond with someone from another realm in my previous life. Not like I could remember any instances of conducting a stereotypical black magic ritual just for laughs and ending up getting entangled with a real monster or deity. So, it was safe to assume that this person beyond the veil was someone old Elsa knew and not me. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Secondly, I wasn''t surprised that using the key being dangerous was a possibility. I was still quite new in this world. Even though I had the liberation ritual under my belt. There were more than a few things about witchcraft and this world that I didn''t know yet. So, that answer made complete sense.


    Thirdly, I still couldn''t comprehend what to make of the answer to my last question. Either the person who sent the key meant harm to me or they didn''t or they were uncertain about what they wanted to do to me once they found me.


    My theory about this person being old Elsa asking for help through supernatural means began to feel less plausible. Maybe it was possible that it was someone Elsa knew and maybe this person wanted to settle some old score with her. That brought up another question. "Do I even want to get involved with this stuff?"


    Currently, the answer was an obvious no. I didn''t know half of anything that was happening and I was half-unaware of all the stuff that I was capable of. The final verdict was clear though.


    The black key wasn''t something to be fucked with for now. Maybe, once I knew more about the world beyond the veil or at least after I''d learnt or "re-learnt" all the spells and rituals in my hexonomicon, I might think of dealing with the key.


    "But right now, you are going somewhere I or anyone else can''t see you," I said as I put it in a small pouch and shoved it into my suitcase. I''d shove the pouch under a floorboard once I picked which room I wanted to sleep in.


    That''s when I heard a soft grumbling from behind me. Lenora had woken up.


    I felt my lips turning into a grin even though I felt slightly bad to find her pained expression amusing. I stepped up to her and said, "Let me guess. Headache, inability to focus, scrambled thoughts and a sense of fatigue?"


    Even through her mask of pain, Lenora managed to show a look of surprise at my deduction. "Um...precisely." She let out a breath. "I guess being perceptive comes with the perks of being a witch."


    "Not at all," I said. "It''s just that I''ve been in your place more than a few times."


    "My sympathies are with you." Lenora squeezed the bridge of her nose, wincing a little.


    "You should go out and get some fresh air," I said. "I have a few things I need to take care of." I turned and went upstairs to where the bedrooms were.


    I looked at the mattress that had been folded and put in the closet in the first bedroom. I pulled it out but my steps staggered as I carried it out before I lost my balance. I was ready to tumble to the ground with the thing cushioning my fall. But the fall never came.


    Someone had already braced me. It was Lenora. "I''m the one hungover but somehow you are finding it hard to keep standing," she said playfully.


    I grinned and backed off, letting her hold up the mattress on her own. She didn''t have the same difficulty holding it up as I had. "You know, I''ve done this kind of thing almost all my life." She carried the mattress out into the balcony and put it out on the banister.


    While she was at it, I brought the second mattress from the other room and she took it from me and set it next to the first on the rail. We did the same for the third one. We then took turns smacking at the mattresses with my broom to knock off all the dust. "Your head isn''t hurting anymore?" I asked as I stepped back and handed the broom to her.


    "Not now that I''m busy with something," she said. "I''m quite good at ignoring my problems by getting busy with chores."


    I gave a wry smile and leaned back and watched her as she dusted the mattresses. "Are you sure about this?" I asked.


    "About what?"


    "About this arrangement," I said. "You living with us--a bunch of witches. Are you really sure you don''t feel scared? Or uncomfortable?"


    Lenora stopped and sighed. "I don''t, but I''m curious. What if I said no?" she said. "Would you leave the house? Or would you make me leave."


    I pursed my lips and looked away when a gust of wind blew into our hairs. "I don''t know. That would be a complicated situation, though."


    "Why would it be complicated? You would just be on your way and I would be on my own." She shrugged.


    "No, the complicated part would be wondering if you would go to the Inquistion and report us. I''m not saying that you are going to do that. But if things happened the way you just said, it would put me and my friends in a situation where we would have to worry about getting snitched on."


    Lenora nodded with a surprising amount of understanding to my statement. "I think that''s a valid concern to have if one was in your shoes," she said. "But you don''t have to worry about me snitching on you. The only scenario in which I would do that is if you were serious about turning me into a flesh puppet." She winked and passed the broom.


    I couldn''t help but chuckle as I took the broom from her. "Don''t mind Lily and Smokewell. They are just...well, they are weird people but I know that neither of them wants to hurt anyone." I began dusting the third mattress.


    Lenora stepped aside and leaned against the banister. "It must be nice to have someone you could rely on, right?" she said.


    That caught me a bit off guard but I gave a nod.


    "You really do care about each other. I can tell," she said. "It''s a scary thing, being alone, I mean. I realized when I finally divorced Clyde. I knew what he and I had wasn''t a good thing but I couldn''t deny that I had started to depend on his harshness and his...his control on my life. I know it was bad but...it was something. Even though I felt relieved of ending it, I still felt really alone. And empty. Have you felt that way?"


    There it was, another heavy subject. I held back a sigh. I had to learn to answer questions like these. I decided to give it a try. "I''ll say I know what it feels like. To come to rely upon something that''s not good for you," I said.


    "Did you get rid of that thing?" she asked.


    I scoffed at that. "Oh I did. Not with my own hands but one day I woke up and I just...didn''t have to rely on that thing anymore."


    "That sounds impossible," Lenora said.


    "I know. But it happened. There was a point in my life where I was convinced that I didn''t deserve it and yet I got a chance to start over," I said. "Even though what happened to me feels like a miracle now, it has really made me believe that...there are not a lot of things that are truly impossible."


    "This is why I want to live with you all," Lenora said. "These things you say...they make me trust you. They give me hope. Even that advice you gave me at my apartment. No one agreed with that. My colleagues, even my own parents tried to make me stay with Clyde. But it was your words that gave me the courage to...take control of my life again." She took a step forward and said with a determined look, "I trust you. I know you won''t do anything bad to me. The question is, do you trust me the same way?"

 35. Future Plans

    Lenora¡¯s question silently hung in the air. I thought about it for a minute before answering her. There was no point in doubting someone like her. She had been an emotional wreck when we first met her, stuck in a bad marriage with anxiety and self-esteem issues. My cynical old self would have argued that it was all a trap and this woman was just a poser. But it was obvious. Lenora wasn''t capable of hurting anyone. She wore her feelings on her sleeve and was afraid of being alone. She wasn''t someone to be afraid of.


    I smiled and said, ¡°Yes, I trust you.¡± (Later that evening, I would also divine with the osteodial if Lenora was trustworthy. And it pointed towards ¡®yes¡¯).


    Then there was a sound of the front door opening. Lily and Smokewell had come home. We went downstairs. Lily was lugging two hefty shopping bags in each hand while the black cat sat leisurely on her shoulder.


    Lily obviously didn''t break a sweat throughout all of this. ¡°You bought a lot of stuff,¡± I said.


    The girl put the bags down. ¡°I mean, it has to last us the whole month, right?¡± Then she looked at our housemate. ¡°How are you now? You went down like a tree after all that drinking.¡±


    Lenora groaned, rubbing her temples as if she just remembered she had a headache. ¡°Why did you have to remind me?¡± she said. ¡°I was almost distracted from the pain.¡±


    I grinned again. ¡°I think I have just the remedy for what you are going through.¡±


    I dug into the shopping bags. ¡°Did you get everything from the list?¡± I asked Lily.


    The girl nodded. I took a few things out of both the bags and walked into the kitchen. I spent several minutes in there while my housemates waited in the sitting room, puzzled.


    I came back with a glass half-filled with a reddish yellow liquid. I handed it to Lenora.


    ¡°What is this?¡± she asked, uncertainly eyeing the drink.


    ¡°It''s called a prairie oyster,¡± I said. ¡°It should help you with your hangover.¡±


    With the uncertainty still on her face, she raised the glass to her lips but winced, as if catching a foul whiff of something. ¡°This stinks!¡± she said.


    ¡°Just pinch your nose and gulp it down.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°You don''t have to savor it. Or even taste it. Go on, do it. Bottoms up!¡±


    The girl forced the drink down her throat in a single swallow. She put the glass down with a look of disdain. I was almost surprised with how well she took it. Even Lily and Smokwell--who weren''t aware of what a prairie oyster actually tastes like--looked astounded by the girl.


    ¡°What in God''s name was it even made of?¡± Lenora said, after rinsing her mouth at the sink with water.


    ¡°Some vinegar, some hot sauce, a pinch of salt and black pepper, one crushed tomato and a raw egg,¡± I said. I hadn''t mention Worcestershire sauce in the grocery list I¡¯d given to Lily because it probably wasn''t invented anywhere in Ravenwind yet.


    ¡°What?!¡± Lenora gawked at me. ¡°That''s supposed to help with a hangover?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded. ¡°Aren''t you more focused on the taste of the remedy now than your hangover?¡±


    Lilian folded her arms. ¡°Why did you make that weird drink, Miss Elsa? You could''ve just given her the lightbrain elixir.¡±


    ¡°What''s that supposed to do?¡± Lenora said.


    ¡°It¡¯s a focus enhancing potion that is supposed to be drank before conducting a long and complicated ritual,¡± Smokewell said and smacked Lily¡¯s arm with a paw. ¡°That would make a non-user catatonic, you idiot.¡±


    ¡°It''s supposed to clear one¡¯s head,¡± Lily said. ¡°It should also cure hangovers.¡±


    I could tell an argument was about to break out between the two when Lenora laughed. All eyes turned to her. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°What''s so funny?¡± Smokewell said.


    It took Lenora a minute to stop laughing before she wiped a tear and said, ¡°You all are such intelligent witches. Yet none of you have found a way to cure a simple hangover.¡±


    ****


    Then we had lunch. Nothing too fancy. A simple slow cooked stew of meat and vegetables, seasoned with thyme and served with toast. And I made some lemonade to wash it down. Smokewell sat at the head of the table and had some raw lamb that we served her in a bowl.


    ¡°So, it is confirmed that she doesn''t have a problem living with us?¡± the cat asked, looking at Lenora.


    Before Lenora could answer I spoke up. ¡°Yes. It is. We are living together. So we need to trust each other if we want to be happy in the process,¡± I said.


    Smokewell''s face became unreadable again. ¡°I guess we''ll find out how much she trusts us anyway.¡± She shrugged.


    A silence descended upon the table. This time Lenora was the one who broke it. ¡°So, you all said you won''t be able to offer witchcraft services for money, have you decided what you guys are going to do?¡±


    ¡°We''ve discussed it before,¡± Lily said. ¡°But we are not sure.¡±


    ¡°I don''t have to do anything to live,¡± Smokwell said, ¡°one of the best things about being a cat is that I''m not a human.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°We know and trust me, we envy you, but we''ve had this talk before. Sooner or later we''re going to have to start something.¡±


    ¡°Have you considered going to a¡­university maybe?¡± Lenora said. ¡°You can get a degree in any course you want and if you are good at crunching numbers I can give a refferral to you at some business as an accountant. I have a few contacts that can help you out.¡±


    ¡°I''m not too good with numbers,¡± Lilian said. ¡°Maybe, Miss Elsa might be good at it.¡±


    They both looked at me. Smokewell was busy with her lamb.


    ¡°No, I''m not really interested. I have a better alternative for us,¡± I said. ¡°I suggest we become adventurers.¡±


    The cat finally raised her head. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± she said.


    ¡°Adventurers,¡± I said again.


    ¡°You mean like¡­we go and ask people for a job that the police or the government might not be ready to do and we do it and get paid for it?¡± Lily said.


    ¡°That sounds dangerous,¡± Lenora said.


    ¡°And not to mention,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°There are no guilds or associations for it. No formal institution for adventurers in Ravenwind. A place where you can operate from so people can approach you and ask for help.¡±


    I knew all of that. I''d meditated over that fact since we had returned from Pallport. I leaned ahead and steepled my fingers. ¡°Right now, we don''t need a formal institution,¡± I said. ¡°We have been acting like a quasi-adventuring party already. We did that job for the Malcolms. And then helped Hopper in Stonebarrow. What''s wrong with doing this thing more seriously?¡±


    Everyone went silent with contemplation. The best thing about choosing to be adventurers was that Ravenwind''s legal system wasn''t very developed. Which meant no one was going to question us how we made our money unless someone actively snitched on us. ¡°All we have to do is pay the basic taxes and keep on living a modest life to not catch unwanted attention. And then we are golden,¡± I said.


    Lenora raised her hand and said, ¡°I can second that. As long as you don''t do anything that is obviously against the law or well, don''t get reported by someone, no one is going to pay much attention to you.¡±


    ¡°What kind of clients would we take up?¡± Smokewell asked.


    ¡°The high profile ones,¡± I said. ¡°People like Hammer. They are the ones who will be more likely to need something done in secrecy. I don¡¯t trust the common folk to use our talents and shut up about it later.¡±


    ¡°I agree with Miss Elsa,¡± Lily said. ¡°Also, there''s more money in that approach.¡±


    Smokewell''s tail twitched a little at the mention of more money. ¡°Now isn''t that something I like to hear?¡± she said and then with a more serious look, she said, ¡°How will we get to such clients though?¡±


    ¡°We can worry about that later,¡± I said and finished the last of my stew and rose up to leave. ¡°Money isn''t a problem for us just yet. So we don''t have to worry about details right now.¡±


    After lunch was done, we picked our bedrooms and carried our luggage to our respective rooms. I took a shower after I''d unpacked my bags and my closet was all set.


    It was almost evening by then. I put the pouch of the obsidian key under a floorboard and laid a small rug over it. I kept old Elsa''s books on witchcraft and other ritual gear in the suitcase and stowed the bag in the corner of my closet.


    Feeling the day''s sense of fatigue and tiredness settle over me, I climbed into me bed and pulled on the covers. I let out a soft breath as I looked at the moon outside the window.


    My mind drifted back to the discussion we¡¯d had at lunch. ¡°Covert adventuring was the best job for us,¡± I mumbled to myself.


    It would allow me to test my capabilities at witchcraft and maintain a fairly low profile. It would also help me learn more about this new world I was now living in. Money would just be the cherry on top.


    All of it would help me get stronger before I decide to use the obsidian key.


    I felt a swell of hope in my chest as I pondered over these thoughts. From tomorrow onwards, I would dive into my hexonomicon and meditate more over old Elsa''s memories.


    I closed my eyes and reminded myself: ¡°I''m Elsa Grimly. And I''m going to live a great life.¡±

 36. In the cards

    Next day, Lenora had left for work after breakfast. Lily had gone back to her room to meditate and Smokewell was taking a nap somewhere in the house. I had come to my own room after I was done eating. I had to hit the books.


    I spent several hours going through old Elsa''s journal entries and my hexonomicon. It didn''t take long for me to figure out that there was too much to uncover in a few study sessions.


    Since my malice was knowledge, old Elsa had been nothing short of a witchcraft nerd. Her journal had little to talk about what she did in her daily life and more about what she had managed to pull off with her studies.


    There were observations and inferences and almost randomly trivial facts that she had jotted down in the pages of the notebook.


    No, sitting down and reading it wasn''t going to do the trick. Reading the rituals and the entries made me feel like there was a time when I knew how this stuff worked but without practical experience, all of it was just scripted gibberish.


    So around afternoon, I decided to fill my reticule with my hexonomicon and my journal and left my room. Smokewell was napping in the living room.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± she asked as I headed for the door.


    ¡°Weren''t you asleep?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not anymore.¡± the cat said. ¡°Now, where are you going?¡±


    ¡°I need to buy a few things,¡± I said. ¡°For my witchcraft studies.¡±


    The cat stared at me with cold, inspecting eyes. And then she shrugged. ¡°Don''t be out too long,¡± she said before closing her eyes again.


    I sighed inwardly before leaving the house. I hadn''t really lied to her about wanting to buy things for witchcraft. What I was going to practice today needed a few upgrades to my gear.


    So I headed out to the market. I took a walk to the Pickville street that was nearby. I kept my head down and didn''t waste too much time wandering around. I bought some goatskin parchment from a book binder and next I bought a crowfeather quill from the pawnshop.


    I, then, boarded the tram to Orowen. From another pawnshop in the city I bought myself a silver nibbed quill. I boarded the tram and went downtown. I walked until I was at a familiar place. Rosa''s Public House.


    It was just as foreboding and abandoned as the last time I''d been here. I walked inside. The air was still dense with that same sulfuric smell. There was still the feeling of being watched by someone, feeling of having someone invisible standing right behind you.


    Before I began my experiment, I took out the two quills I''d bought and switched the nib on the crowfeather with a silver nib from my other quill.


    Ever since the practices of witchcraft had been slapped with regulations, selling items that could be used by witches was also regulated. A crowfeather quill with a silver nib was one such item that could be used in rituals relating to curses.


    These quills weren''t completely illegal to sell. But you had to show some documentation as a regulated witch before buying such a thing. For fugitives like me, we had to rely on improvising gear like this. I could''ve bought both the quills from the same pawnshop instead of two different ones but I didn''t want to risk raising suspicions.


    ¡°Perfect,¡± I muttered once I was done making the silver nibbed crowfeather quill. I put it down on the old half-burned counter in the public house and snuck a glance over my shoulder.


    I didn''t see anyone peering in from anywhere. People just walked past the entrance without even noticing the ruined public house. That was how non-users usually acted around accursed territories. Especially to a place where the curse was as strong as this one.


    I pulled out the goatskin parchment from my reticule and laid it out on the desk. I created a mark on its surface with my crowfeather quill--a pentacle with a flame at its center.


    As soon as I was done making the mark, the air inside the building grew heavier. The sulfuric smell had turned into the smell of burnt hair. The invisible presence seemed to grow slightly less invisible.


    I took a deep breath and waited for my heart to stop skipping beats. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    One common principle that the curse branch of witchcraft believed was that no one or nothing in the mortal realm ever completely died. No one ever truly disappeared after existing for a while. And everyone left something behind after dying.


    When people died with strong, resentful emotions, they left behind shadows of that resentment in places and objects they held dear. Curses.


    The stronger these curses were, the more visible they were, even to a non-user''s senses. The curses claimed the most vulnerable individuals. Imagine a toddler who kept getting sick for no reason after sitting on a park bench where a pregnant mother was brutally killed. Or a lonely man who was hit by depression after coming to live in an apartment where another lonely man had committed suicide.


    The curses would keep gnawing away at these unfortunate souls until their will to live deteriorated completely. And when that toddler or that lonely man had passed away, the curse would get stronger.


    Now, why did curses function that way? Because that''s what they were born to do. A curse was nothing but a well of hatred. You could either cleanse and extinguish it or harness its hatred for your own use. But a curse wasn''t going to become anything kind.


    Reading this in old Elsa''s diary made me wonder if curses existed in the world of my past life. Since the conditions required to cast a curse could be achieved by anyone on the verge of death and with enough hatred in their heart. Then I wondered if there were people who knew how to deliberately use its power. So many crimes could be committed with such powers and no one would be able to imagine the means one had used to make them happen.


    ¡°I want to make a trade,¡± I said, taking the goatskin parchment with the mark and setting it aflame with a lighter. The paper hissed and shriveled in the fire.


    Just before the parchment became ash, the flame turned blue. That meant the curse was ready to listen to my offer.


    This was the Accursed Exchange Ritual. Witches used this method to communicate with curses and come to a mutual agreement of some kind.


    ¡°Tell me what you demand first.¡± I took another marked parchment and set it on fire.


    The flame turned green and then it turned grey before the paper became ash. Green was the color of life. Grey was the color of death. Of course, the curse was hungry to consume mortal lives.


    I took another parchment. ¡°I''ll let you have a set amount of lives if you promise to leave this place.¡± I burnt the paper.


    Before the paper became ash, the flame turned red.


    Red was the color of finality. That meant the curse had agreed to trade.


    I tore five pieces of the goatskin parchment to the size of playing cards and marked them all with pentacles that had a smaller pentacle at their centre. I infused the symbols with my malice and spoke in a clear, stern voice. ¡°That which exists in death and that which remains after death. I call upon you to serve me after your last breath.¡±


    Wind blew by my ear and ruffled my hair. The goatskin parchments on top of the half-burnt counter rustled like autumn leaves. The symbols on them glimmered for a second before the yellowish white color of the paper turned a metallic grey.


    I picked up all the pieces of paper. They weren''t thin and frail as parchments anymore. They were solid as plastic coated cards, all printed with the pentacles I''d drawn.


    Five cards. Five deaths that I would decide to deal to someone in the future if push ever came to shove. Since we returned from our recent little adventure, I''d meditated over what I''d done at Wyndham''s apothecary to save myself and Hopper.


    I''d remembered the guilt that had overcome me after killing someone. The worst thing was that I felt guilty for killing someone who had been about to kill me or do something much more terrible.


    That had me wondering, would I have felt the same way in my previous life? My answer was still muddy with doubt but chances of me feeling guilty about such a thing seemed to be quite low in my original identity. This remorseful attitude was probably a gift that came with Elsa¡¯s body.


    I looked at the mark of the liberation ritual tattooed on my hand. ¡°If you left your humanity with me, I wonder what your soul must be like right now.¡±


    ****


    I packed up my belongings and turned to leave the ruined public house. The oppressive, foreboding presence wasn''t there anymore. The silence inside the ruin didn''t feel haunting anymore. The smell of burnt hair. The sulfuric stench. All of it was gone.


    There were at least two ways of cleansing curses that I knew at the moment. One of the methods involved getting rid of the curse right where it resided and the second one was what I had done--make a deal with it.


    All the hatred that Rosa might''ve felt when she burned to death in this place had now transformed into a weapon that could be put to some good use. Liberation ritual was strong but I still wasn''t too good at commanding the abyssal beings. They were subservient but too brutal with their actions.


    But with Curse Channeling I could be more precise in times of danger. And there would be times like that if we were going to be adventurers.


    This time, I won''t let myself feel guilty for choosing to survive. Due to my actions in my past life, I''d never been able to experience true empathy or compassion. Now that I had a chance to feel those things I wasn''t going to waste it on someone who was trying to kill me.


    As I stepped out into the street again, the sun was shining in my face. I''d successfully carried out an Accursed Exchange and now I had Curse Channeling cards in my possession. The day so far had been quite productive.


    The only way the day could get better was if I got a chance to test out one of the cards. I smiled to myself. I knew where I was going to go next.

 37. Unusual Suspects

    When I arrived at the Internal Police Headquarters, it was their lunchtime. Hopper had just walked out of his office when his eyes happened upon me in the hallway. I waved at him.


    ¡°I wasn''t expecting to see you here.¡± He stepped up to me and shook my hand. ¡°But I was hoping I ran into you somehow.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Run into me?¡±


    He grinned and gestured to me to follow him. He led me into his office. He grabbed a newspaper that was on his desk--Orowen Daily--he flipped through the pages before pointing at a column.


    It was an article following the story of green blood theory being debunked. ¡°This is the conclusion of that incident,¡± he said. ¡°It talks about Wyndham and his plans. And even has an interview with Hammer and I. And look who we both mentioned.¡± He laid his finger on the line that talked about my friends and I helping out the Internal Police in uncovering the conspiracy.


    I just gave a little smile. ¡°I bet Lily will be excited to see the news,¡± I said and asked him if I could take the newspaper with me. Hopper didn''t mind.


    ¡°So, what brought you here today?¡± he asked me once I''d slipped the newspaper into my reticule.


    ¡°That news you showed me about how I helped you out in Stonebarrow. I would like to like do that again,¡± I said.


    Hopper looked. ¡°There really isn''t anything of that scale right now.¡± He shook his head.


    ¡°It doesn''t need to be,¡± I said. ¡°Actually, I''d prefer something that is way less complicated than what we did a week ago.¡±


    ¡°I''m curious. Why the sudden urge to help?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I want to test something out,¡± I said. ¡°My strength, if I was being precise.¡±


    Hopper chuckled. ¡°The Internal Police department isn''t a playground.¡±


    ¡°Don''t be coy with me, Hopper. You and I both know there are more than a few cases that go unsolved here. So many criminals who wander free even when they don''t deserve it.¡±


    There was a glint of something in Hopper''s eyes for a second. His face sobered up completely and he was alert. It was the same look he''d given me when he revealed to me that he was an eidolon.


    ¡°Have you had lunch yet?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No, why?¡±


    ¡°Let''s head over to a restaurant for a bit. I think I have just what you are looking for.¡±


    ****


    It was just an excuse to get me away from the headquarters and away from the faithful uniformed servants of the Steam Elemental. Because he and I both ended up ordering little food and eating even less.


    The topic of conversation was even more captivating. ¡°Nine brutal murders within the span of a month,¡± he said, passing me his personal diary over my dish of steak and potatoes. ¡°All the victims were women in their mid-thirties and not very well off. Four of them were prostitutes. Other five were widows or divorced.¡±


    I went through the page he''d opened the diary on. It had names of the nine women along with their ages and a brief background on each of them. ¡°Here it also says that the murder weapon is presumed to be a meat cleaver,¡± I said.


    Hopper nodded. ¡°And all the murders happened late in the night. All nine bodies were discovered sometime at early dawn. In most of the cases, the person reporting the bodies would either be a newspaper boy or a milkman or a housemaid. And in one particular case it was a lady who had opened her window in the morning only to spot a mutilated body in the alley down below.¡±


    ¡°So there were no witnesses at all,¡± I said.


    Hopper nodded again. ¡°And thus no description to follow either. Also, all the victims are from different parts of the city and none of them are personally connected in any way. The only common factor was their age and their financial condition. And then something strange happened.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I said.


    ¡°Turn the page.¡±


    I flipped the page on the diary. ¡°Samantha Canning,¡± I read the words on the page. ¡°Twenty five years old. Daughter to Sydny Canning.¡±


    ¡°The tenth victim,¡± Hopper said. ¡°She is nearly ten years younger than the other women before her. And her father Sydny Canning is a renowned musician across Ravenwind.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°But that breaks the pattern completely. How is she connected to the other nine victims?¡±


    ¡°Just by a guess.¡± Hopper shrugged. ¡°The Internal Police Homicide Investigations might be grasping at straws but they guessed that there was a chance of her being connected. Because the way her body had been mutilated was¡­well more methodical than the other victims. It couldn''t have been the work of a first time killer. Someone planned and killed the poor girl in cold blood.¡±


    ¡°Her father is a celebrity. What if it was one of his enemies who had her killed?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be more beneficial to have her kidnapped and use her as a leverage against her father?¡± Hopper asked. ¡°Also, there was too much indulgence in what he did to her body. Even if someone had it against her father that bad, the job would¡¯ve been quick and efficient. I saw her corpse. The killer took his time with her.¡±


    ¡°Did you get any suspects in her case?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Only one,¡± Hopper said. ¡°Her boyfriend Oswald Gooding. The inspector from Homicide Investigations couldn''t really find any evidence beyond reasonable doubt. So they couldn''t even get him in court. But he had been the closest thing to an actual suspect in this case.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± I said.


    ¡°I''m not. That''s the problem. Everyone doubts Oswald but there''s very little to prove anything against him,¡± Hopper said.


    ¡°But where did the accusation against him come from?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It was Samantha Canning''s father, Sydny Canning, who brought up the doubt against the man,¡± he said. ¡°Why did he do that? I don''t know since I handle the Witchcraft investigations. Not Homicide. But this case had grabbed my attention and I was planning on talking to the father soon.¡±


    I nodded and shut the diary. ¡°Now seems like a good time to do that.¡±


    ****


    Sydny Canning looked older than he was supposed to be when we went to meet him. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes were sleepless and tired as if always on the brink of tears. His shoulders were perpetually slouched and his arms hung so limp by his sides they looked ready to fall off.


    He was a pianist and the number of important people he had played in front of was far bigger than I could count. The sitting room wall of his mansion was covered with medals and framed certificates of his achievements.


    Yet he walked past them like a ghost in a graveyard. He sank down in a settee and regarded us with those sad tired eyes of his. On the side table next to his chair was the picture of a young smiling girl. His late daughter, Samantha.


    ¡°I buried her two days ago,¡± Sydny said. His face was desperate yet resigned. Angry yet defeated. ¡°What do you want from me now? The man who did this got away, didn''t he? What can you even want now?¡±


    I looked at Hopper from the corner of my eye. I caught a glimpse of his fingers twitching nervously. Seriously? He was also going to shut down at an emotionally tense moment like this?


    I took a silent yet deep breath and stepped forward. I had to appease the old man before he called in his guards to kick us out. ¡°Mr. Canning, we aren''t here to waste your time,¡± I said. ¡°I know you are mourning deeply for your loss. I won''t pretend to understand what it''s like to be in your place. But I can offer you something that might give you some kind of closure at least.¡±


    For a split second, I saw a glimmer of interest in Canning''s eyes. But the interest was soon cloaked by caution and wariness. ¡°What kind of closure?¡± he asked.


    ¡°We might know who killed your daughter and we may be able to bring him to justice,¡± I said and nudged Hopper forward. ¡°Tell him.¡±


    ¡°Uh yes, right.¡± The witch hunter general pulled out his diary. ¡°This is about the man that your daughter had been seeing¨C¡±


    Canning raised his hand with a jerk. His fingers were long and almost delicate. ¡°I''d already told the police about him and they did nothing. They think I''m crazy.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Canning, no one thinks you are crazy,¡± Hopper said. ¡°This is a matter of not having evidence to prove that Oswald is the murderer.¡±


    ¡°If you don''t have that kind of evidence then what did she just say about bringing that man to justice?¡± Canning pointed a long finger at me.


    ¡°I meant I''m going to deal with him personally. There will be zero involvement of the Internal Police,¡± I said.


    Canning seemed bewildered. ¡°You are just going to let her do that?¡± he said to Hopper.


    Hopper gave a wry grin. ¡°I suffer from a bad memory, Mr. Canning,¡± he said. ¡°I probably won''t even remember having this conversation with you.¡±


    I held back a grin myself and kept my gaze intent on the grieving father. ¡°Isn''t this what you want, Mr. Canning? For your daughter''s killer to suffer.¡±


    Canning stared at me for a second before leaning ahead in his chair. ¡°But¡­if you know Oswald did it. Then why are you here? What do you want from me?¡± he said in a cautious voice.


    ¡°That''s the thing, Mr. Canning,¡± I said. ¡°We don''t know if it was really Oswald.¡±


    ¡°But you kept insisting on it,¡± Hopper said. ¡°We want to know why. Why were you so sure about Oswald being the killer?¡±


    Canning''s long delicate fingers clamped down on the armrests of his chair. ¡°Truth be told, even I can''t tell if it was really him.¡±


    Hopper and I both frowned together.


    Canning sank back in his chair. ¡°Sometimes I think if I was just being stubborn because I didn''t like him the moment my daughter introduced him to me. Or had I really managed to see through the facade of his smile and gazed upon the devil behind it. I shouldn''t have felt that way but Oswald never gave me the impression of what a normal man looks like.¡±


    ¡°Why do you say that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°He was always too cheery, always smiling. Always making jokes. I''d even tried intimidating him with my social standing and achievements when Samantha brought him home. But it seemed to have no effect on him. I wouldn¡¯t say that he was confident. It just felt like he didn¡¯t care. Yes.¡± Canning nodded. ¡°He seemed like a man who cared about barely anything beyond himself. But my daughter seemed to love him. It had been eight years since her mother passed away. And I still feel like I couldn''t do as much for my wife as she deserved in our marriage. So I tried to redeem myself and didn''t try to object Samantha¡¯s relationship with that man. But I was still a cautious father. So I hired multiple private detectives to dig up information on Oswald''s past.¡±


    ¡°What did those detectives find?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Disappointment,¡± Canning said. ¡°Oswald was like a ghost. There was very little to find out about his past. His parents had died due to strange illnesses while he was a child. He grew up at his single aunt''s house who also died of unknown reasons when Oswald entered his teen years. He had his first job by age twenty three. And he came to Orowen last year. Yet he owns his own two story house while working as a clerk. His parents and his aunt weren¡¯t rich so he couldn¡¯t have got enough of an inheritance to buy a house like that. Neither did he have any other relatives. Despite having grown up mostly alone, he hadn¡¯t seemed to get into any kind of trouble. His past was so plain that it raised suspicions. I was going to bring up my doubts to my daughter but¡­before that I had the police coming to my doorstep to tell me they found her¡­found her dead¡­¡±


    Tears welled up in his eyes but he choked them back, swallowing hard.


    Hopper and I gave him a minute to gather himself. Then I asked, ¡°But you told this to the homicide inspector, right? If he wasn''t able to find anything by traditional investigation then did they call in a regulated magic practitioner? Did they carry out some kind of divination or something?¡±


    ¡°They did,¡± Hopper said. ¡°They called a witch from the Blind Oracle coven. The divination result was negative. That''s the reason why the investigation has gone back to square one. Because any semblance of a suspect they had also turned out to be a dead end.¡±


    ¡°But it is him. Those eyes. They couldn''t have belonged to a human. Such absolute disregard for anything. That''s not human!¡± Canning clenched his fists. ¡°Oswald is the one who lured my daughter before he¡­he¡­¡±


    This time, the man couldn''t hold back his tears. They came forth in unforgiving streams of sadness. I took a slow step forward and crouched in front of him. I looked into his eyes and said, ¡°I made you a promise that I would personally give the killer what he deserves. I will keep my promise, Mr. Canning.¡±


    Then I turned to leave. Hopper was right after me. ¡°So you also suspect Oswald Gooding?¡± he said.


    I thought about it as we walked down the porch steps and the main gate of Canning estate. According to the grieving father, Oswald showed signs of absolute apathy yet he had managed to lure Samantha in a trap. Other than that, he had grown up mostly an orphan but he hadn''t been born an orphan. A childhood with that many deaths is usually unsteady. And I knew a thing or two about what an unsteady childhood can do to a person. Yet Oswald¡¯s life seemed spotless according to what Canning had told us. ¡°I would be lying if I said I thought he was innocent,¡± I said. ¡°Yet, I won''t deny that the deaths of each of his guardians might still be a coincidence and he might just be an unfortunate individual. But he also owns a two story house in this city after being here only for a year. That''s enough to raise suspicions.¡±


    ¡°Are we going to go and see him now?¡± Hopper said.


    ¡°Yes, paying him a visit won''t hurt,¡± I said.

 38. More than meets the eye

    Oswald Gooding lived in a place called the Werner Housing association. It looked like a wealthy neighborhood protected by tall perimeter walls and two guards at the wrought iron gates at the entrance. Hopper flashed them his Internal Police badge and they let us in.


    We made our way up to Gooding''s house. It was flanked by palm trees on either sides, had a lush green lawn at the front and a steam carriage in the driveway.


    ¡°I can see why Canning¡¯s detectives found Oswald suspicious,¡± I said. ¡°This place looks like it belongs to a merchant. Not a clerk.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Hopper said.


    I knocked at the door. The door cracked open in about two minutes. A man¡¯s pale blue eye peered through the gap. ¡°Yes?¡± he said.


    ¡°I''m General Lloyd Hopper from Internal Police. We would like to ask you some questions, Mr. Oswald.¡±


    ¡°Oh, alright.¡± Oswald slid the chain off and opened the door. We walked in.


    The furniture in the living room looked just as expensive as the rest of the house. But as tasteful and pristine the decor was, there didn''t seem to be any kind of personal touch to add flavor to the living space. No photo frames, no tapestries or any other addition that would''ve given the place more of an identity. It didn''t look like the kind of place where someone lived. It was more of a movie set modeled after a pretty painting.


    ¡°What brings you here, officer?¡± Oswald said. ¡°Is this about Samantha?¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Hopper dug into his coat and pulled out a leather pouch that people sometimes used to store tobacco in.


    ¡°I thought the internal police were done with questioning me,¡± Oswald said. His arms were on his sides and his entire demeanor was relaxed and confident.


    ¡°Just a moment please,¡± Hopper said and shook some silver colored powder from the pouch and onto his palm. He looked at Oswald and blew the powder into his face.


    The man coughed and waved away the remnant dust that was hovering around him. ¡°What was that for?¡±


    I frowned.


    Hopper looked puzzled. ¡°Oh no,¡± he muttered and grabbed the porcelain vase that was on the coffee table and swung it towards Oswald''s head.


    The man tried to dodge but Hopper''s movements were quicker and the vase smashed against Oswald''s skull, making him stumble back. He gripped his head, wincing and whimpering before he crashed into the chair behind him, unconscious.


    I watched the scene unfolding with bewilderment. ¡°What was that for?¡± I asked.


    ¡°This is the dust of Ederanth seeds.¡± He waved the pouch full of silver powder.


    ¡°Its purpose was to make Oswald more compliant and vulnerable to some minor hypnosis,¡± he said. ¡°But it didn''t seem to work.¡±


    ¡°Wait, did you use that powder to control that blind man who gave us the address to Rosa¡¯s public house?¡± I said.


    Hopper nodded. ¡°Indeed.¡±


    ¡°Is that powder always effective in doing that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°In some cases, it doesn''t work as intended.¡±


    I cocked my head. ¡°Which case may that be?¡±


    Hopper gazed at the unconscious Oswald with a half-puzzled, half-intrigued look. ¡°When I use it on a magic user.¡±


    I didn¡¯t waste any time in pulling out my osteodial and focused on the question: Is Oswald Gooding a dangerous man?


    The golden bone pointed at the symbol of ¡°no¡±. I frowned. It was supposed to be a simple question to create a stronger link with the world beyond the veil. Yet this was the answer it gave us.


    Next I focused on the question: ¡°Is Oswald Gooding a magic user?¡±


    The answer was no once again. I was frowning once again. ¡°Did we do the right thing by taking Sydny Canning''s word of Oswald being suspicious?¡± I said. ¡°Didn''t you say that this man was only connected to the case because of an instinct?¡±


    ¡°But if ederanth didn''t affect him then that means he is a magic user.¡± Hopper said. ¡°And if he is also the murderer, wouldn''t it be easier for him to cover his tracks with whatever kind of magic he uses?¡±


    Hopper slid the pouch of ederanth in his coat pocket and straightened his lapels. ¡°Maybe we should just ransack this place while the man is still unconscious,¡± he said.


    ¡°You can do that. In the meantime I''ll try something else,¡± I said and pulled the curse chaelling cards from my reticule.


    At first Hopper was worried that I was going to kill the man. I reassured him that it wasn''t going to be as bloody as Wyndham''s apothecary.


    He snapped a pair of handcuffs on Oswald¡¯s wrists and bound the man to a dining chair with a rope. Then the witch hunter looked at me with an uncertain face. ¡°We are still operating against the law,¡± he said. ¡°Coming after a man who is more or less deemed innocent. I hope your test of strength doesn''t involve killing.¡±


    Only if he deserves it. ¡°No, it doesn''t.¡±


    Hopper gave a nod and dug into his coat to pull out a cigarette case. He looked at me and said, ¡°You should pinch your nostrils. You don¡¯t want to smell this.¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    I did as he said. He opened the case but there were no cigarettes within. The little box just had a few seeds the size of a peanut. Hopper pushed the case towards Oswald''s face.


    The unconscious man opened his eyes, coughing again. ¡°God, that smells atrocious! Take it away from me!¡± he snapped.


    Hopper closed the case and slid it back into his coat. ¡°He''s yours,¡± he said and left the sitting room.


    ¡°Where did he go?¡± Oswald asked as the witch hunter entered deeper into the house as if he had been invited.


    ¡°Don''t worry about that,¡± I said, the curse chanelling card still in my hand. I just kept watching him, trying to gauge how he reacted under my scrutiny.


    I knew asking him any direct questions about the murder was pointless. He would only deny or try to distract me from the topic of discussion. I decided to ask him something else instead.


    ¡°What was your aunt like?¡± I took a seat opposite him.


    His face was blank. His eyes were vacant. He didn''t say anything.


    ¡°What happened?¡± I said. ¡°You don''t want to talk about it?¡±


    ¡°Not with you,¡± he said tonelessly.


    ¡°Who else would you talk to about it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Samantha,¡± he said. ¡°If she was still alive.¡±


    ¡°I wonder what Samantha would say.¡±


    ¡°She would console me. She certainly wouldn''t treat me like I killed my own parents and my aunt,¡± he said. ¡°She knew I wasn''t the kind of man who could kill anyone.¡±


    I kept my face straight. He had figured out what I was trying to hint at. Well, Hopper and I hadn''t really been subtle with how we had treated him so far either. I mean, we had quite literally put him in handcuffs and I was interrogating him.


    ¡°I guess I''ll have to believe Samantha then.¡± I shrugged and decided to take another approach. ¡°How much did this house cost?¡±


    ¡°Five thousand steambolts,¡± Oswald said without hesitation.


    ¡°Must''ve been hard, saving up that amount with your job,¡± I said, not without a hint of sarcasm.


    ¡°I won a lottery of ten thousand steambolts last year,¡± he said. ¡°I even have the newspaper that announced the prize and the receipt of the lottery office. It''s in the bureau in my bedroom. Next to the dresser. Second drawer from the bottom.¡±


    I called out to Hopper to check for what Oswald had just said. And of course there was the newspaper and the receipt in a file where he had told me. ¡°You are a lucky man, aren''t you?¡± I said.


    ¡°Not really,¡± he said without missing a beat. ¡°I lost my parents. Then my aunt. And now the love of my life. That''s far from lucky, if you ask me.¡± His eyes were still vacant, still numb. I found his relaxed state to be very unsettling.


    The curse channelling card was still in my hand. I was starting to feel slightly uncertain about whether or not I wanted to use it on him. On the surface, Oswald did look like a man stuck in the cycle of misfortune and bad luck.


    But it was also hard to ignore the fact that Hopper''s ederanth powder hadn''t affected him. I looked down at the card in my hand again.


    This was the only way to find out the truth now. I set the curse channelling card on fire. ¡°Ostendo.¡±


    Oswald frowned. ¡°What?¡±


    The flame that was eating up the card turned white in my hand. I threw the burning card towards the man. As the card passed over Oswald¡¯s head, the entire room turned pitch black.


    But I could see him clearly, sitting in the chair a few feet away from me. But then I also saw something else that made me forget how to breathe.


    Great red appendages were sticking out of Oswald''s torso and reaching down into the inky black ground below us, as if his lower body was a trunk of a grotesque tree and its roots were reaching further below.


    The crimson appendages pulsated in a way that made my skin crawl. For a moment, I was convinced that some invisible force was sucking the life out of Oswald. I followed the path of the red outgrowths that were buried deep under the dark ground. As I focused harder, I made out a shape at a great depth below. All the red roots converged like multiple rivers meeting into a bloody ocean.


    Except the ocean in this case was a large structure shaped like a teardrop. As I kept watching, I realized something else. The structure was actually an eye.


    A terrifying red eye with a black iris at the center. And it didn''t stop staring at Oswald even for a second. The red roots pulsated and fed something into the eye and the eye pulsated in response, drinking up voraciously whatever it was consuming.


    Then for a split second, the focus of the black iris shifted. The red eye turned to me.


    I gasped loudly.


    Clap!


    The blackness disappeared as soon as I clapped. The red roots were gone, so was the great red eye that had just stared into my soul. The curse channelling card was back in my hand. The white flame had extinguished and the card was half burnt.


    I didn''t realize that I was breathing heavily as I stared down at the card. And my hand was trembling as I held onto it.


    Curses liked to feed on human souls in multiple ways. One of their favorite methods of doing that was by triggering the most intense fear one feels about something.


    When I casted the ostendo curse, I triggered Oswald''s deepest fear, revealing his most vulnerable aspect to both him and I. That''s why when I looked up at Oswald again, his face was pale and perspiration dotted his forehead. For the first time since I had arrived here, I saw an emotion in Osawald''s eyes--fear.


    Once my heart stopped racing, I took another deep breath. Whatever that red eye was, it certainly wasn''t killing Oswald. But there was no doubt that it was draining something out of him.


    Those red roots that were growing out of his body looked like blood veins. But it wasn''t blood that was running through them.


    I thought over it for a few seconds before another idea struck me. Sin. Those pulsating red roots¡­were feeding Oswald''s sins to the giant eye.


    I focused on Oswald¡¯s halo. It was green. Not even a drop of red was visible anywhere on the ring.


    ¡°Miss Grimly,¡± a voice called out.


    I jumped in my chair. But it was just Hopper calling for me. He was standing in the hallway behind Oswald, beckoning me towards him. I scrambled out of my chair and followed him inside.


    ¡°I checked both the floors of the house. There was nothing incriminating or suspicious to be¨C¡±


    ¡°There won''t be!¡± I snapped in a hushed whisper.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°There''s a reason why the ederanth didn''t affect Oswald,¡± I said. ¡°Something is looking out for him. Something very dangerous. That''s why even the divinations weren''t able to prove him guilty.¡±


    ¡°You shouldn''t have come here,¡± a familiar voice spoke up before Hopper could say anything.


    We turned to look. Oswald was standing at the mouth of the hallway.


    Both his hands were hanging on his sides again. Blood was dripping from his wrists. The handcuffs were gone.


    ¡°You had a chance to leave¡­¡± Oswald said. ¡°You had a chance to live. But you missed it. Oh you missed it so close¡­¡±

 39. Made of sins

    Oswald''s arms snapped and contorted at weird angles before deep, crimson blades erupted out of his wrists. Hopper and I didn''t waste any time booking it. We ran for the back door. But before I could reach for the latch, the surface of the door erupted with a series of sharp red spikes, pointing at us.


    ¡°You are not going to escape today!¡± Oswald screamed as he bounded down the hallway.


    Hopper whipped out his gun and fired at the spikey door. It was the same gun that he had used to blow up the prison gate in Pallport. The familiar neon green energy zapped out of the muzzle and struck the door.


    I was expecting the impact to blow the door off the hinges. But the spikes just absorbed the lightning Hopper had shot. And then they began to melt and morph into a sleek crimson sheet that coated the door like a wall of blood.


    ¡°Nothing passes through the sins of a human,¡± a deep voice spoke behind us. Oswald was standing at the center of the room. ¡°You can''t escape them. Nothing escapes them.¡±


    Oswald sank his crimson blade-like arms into the floor and more spikes erupted from the walls, from the ceiling and from the door. Then they melted into impenetrable shields until the three of us stood enclosed inside a red box with no way out.


    Hopper fired his gun at Oswald. A crimson wall sprang out of the floor and soaked up the blow again. ¡°I told you, nothing can break through human sins!¡± Oswald screamed and flung himself over the wall, razor sharp limbs sweeping a lethal arch at Hopper.


    Hopper leapt backwards but Oswald''s crimson blades lengthened to cut a deep gash across the man''s chest. There was a spurt of blood but it didn''t seem to bother Hopper. He looked down at the injury with more annoyance than shock or panic.


    Even Oswald paused and looked at Hopper. ¡°Doesn''t it hurt?¡±


    Hopper clenched his fists as blood kept gushing. ¡°You stained the entire damn shirt.¡±


    Oswald broke out in the laughter of a crazy man. ¡°It really doesn''t hurt you? I would love to see how many ways I can cut you up before you die!¡± His crimson arms grew longer and he hefted them up like two greatswords.


    He looked ready to bring them down on Hopper who was still annoyed by the state of his shirt. This was my chance. I set the half burnt curse channeling card on fire and threw it towards Oswald.


    The burning piece of silvery card soared through the air. But before it could strike the target, a blood red spike, long as a javelin, snapped out of the ground and skewered the card right through the centre. Oswald''s attention was on me now.


    Oh shit.


    ¡°I was going to spare you for later since women are much more fun to play with right before they die. But you aren''t an ordinary woman now, are you?¡± he said.


    Hopper tried to fire his gun at Oswald again but a pair of crimson shackles zipped out of the red roof and snapped around his wrists. His arms were spread apart, forcing him into a T-pose and his body was lifted off the ground. Another crimson line came out of the roof and slipped into the muzzle of Hopper''s gun, plugging it shut.


    Oswald wasn''t even looking at Hopper anymore. His gaze was locked on me. His eyes that had been vacant when we had him in handcuffs, had been burning with rage a moment ago. But now those same eyes were sparkling with a twisted sort of excitement as they took me in.


    I felt a cold slither going down my spine.


    ¡°I asked you a question,¡± Oswald said with a playful lilt in his voice. ¡°Aren''t you going to answer me?¡± He took a step towards me.


    I took a step back, just to remind myself that my fear was very close to paralyzing me. And now was the worst time to freeze up. I ignored my racing heart and found my voice again. ¡°Yes¡­I''ll answer you¡­¡±


    Oswald stopped, his blood red arms casually hung by his sides. With his eyes still glinting excitedly, he showed me his teeth in what was supposed to be a smile. But there was barely anything human about that expression. ¡°Good girl,¡± he said. ¡°Now tell me, what did you see when you threw that card at me? I know you saw something. What was it?¡±


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    My eyes were instantly drawn to the curse channeling card that was skewered through the roof, still burning in a flame that kept changing colors. If that card burns out just like that, I''ll die.


    Because that was the deal between Rosa''s curse and I. One life per card. If I can''t offer a life after setting the card aflame, I''ll be the one that the card will kill.


    ¡°I''m still waiting,¡± Oswald said. ¡°Tell me what you saw.¡± His crimson arms were twitching impatiently.


    I nodded, taking a deep breath. I felt my throat burning up with anticipation, malice gathering up in my voice. I screamed: ¡°Absumo!¡±


    The card skewered on the red pillar burned fiercely in a gray flame. And the flame grew wild and spread, eating up the pillar that was holding it captive and then flooding up to the crimson roof and the ceiling that we were all trapped within.


    The excitement and curiosity in Oswald''s voice was replaced with shock. He stood frozen as he watched everything around him burn in the gray flame.


    For a moment I was sure Hopper and I were going to burn to death too. But the flame just passed right through us, burning only the crimson space holding us captive.


    ¡°No!¡± Oswald screamed. At first his voice sounded human. But then it grew deeper and distorted. As if a man and an unearthly beast were screaming together, but both of the voices were coming from Oswald''s throat.


    As his screams grew more tortured and anguished, the gray flames burned even brighter and a lot more fiercely. In the flames I heard the maniacal laughter of a woman.


    The inhuman part of Oswald''s voice grew louder and more desperate. A large red eye blinked open in the burning red ceiling, right above Oswald. Big red tears welled up in the eye and rained down on Oswald like a bloody rain. Oswald stood in its shower, getting drenched in its red downpour and then the grey flames engulfed him.


    I blinked once and then the fire was gone. The laughter of the woman had disappeared. And we were back in Oswald''s house. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when I realized something.


    I could still hear Oswald''s voice, now sobbing helplessly. And then I saw Oswald at the center of the room, his red blade-like arms were back to their human form. And he cried like a child, his face buried in his hands.


    For a moment I was confused. Then it struck me. One death per card.


    So I just used curse channeling on the creature that had been feeding on Oswald''s sins? I observed his halo, it was still completely green. So his sins died with that weird eye thing.


    ¡°You took Him away!¡± Oswald sobbed. ¡°You took Him away from me, you monster!¡±


    Before I could say anything, Hopper said, ¡°How ironic of you to call her a monster.¡± He whipped out his gun and pulled the trigger on Oswald.


    The gun didn''t fire anything. Hopper frowned. ¡°What in the¡­did that red thing just break it from the inside?¡± He glared at Oswald and lunged at him, fists raised. ¡°Do you even know what it cost me to build it?!¡±


    Oswald gasped in fear and tried to scramble away. But Hopper was a lot more nimble and landed a nasty right hook across his jaw, knocking him down. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry!¡± Oswald whined pathetically and tried to run off again.


    Hopper grabbed the man by the ankle and yanked him off balance. Oswald slammed face-first into the ground. I rushed at the two of them, whipping my ritual knife from my reticule mid-stride.


    I firmly planted a knee between Oswald''s shoulder blades, pinning him down to the ground.


    ¡°I''m sorry! Please let me go!¡± Oswald sobbed again.


    I grabbed him by his hair and lifted his face a little and held the knife to his throat. ¡°Not until you admit your sins!¡± I growled at him. ¡°You killed all those ten women, didn''t you? Also your own parents and your aunt. Right?¡±


    ¡°Y-Yes!¡± he cried out.


    I grit my teeth. ¡°I knew it!¡± I pulled the knife away and started to carve a pentacle on the floor right next to his head.


    ¡°W-What are you doing, Miss Grimly?¡± Hopper said behind me.


    ¡°What does it look like?¡± I carved an eye at the center of the pentacle. ¡°I''m giving him what he deserves.¡±


    ¡°Is this a part of the test of strength you mentioned?¡± Hopper said, holding down Oswald''s flailing limbs. ¡°I thought you said you weren''t going to kill him.¡±


    I turned to him, the gash on his chest, slowly sealing itself shut. But I didn''t pay much attention. ¡°What are we gonna do then? Put him on a trial?¡± I said. ¡°There¡¯s no physical evidence against him to prove his crimes. He managed to get away with nine murders, for god¡¯s sake,¡± I said. ¡°I know the justice system of Ravenwind is an idiot that burned people for having green blood. But at least, those people actually had green blood in their veins, even though they weren''t bitten by any spirit of darkness or whatever.¡±


    ¡°What about his confession?¡± Hopper said quickly. ¡°We can have him confess in front of the court.¡±


    ¡°He won a damn lottery, Hopper. He can change his statement. He can buy the best lawyer in Ravenwind to defend him. He can get away with it all. Again,¡± I said. ¡°Also, I don''t care. I made a promise to Samantha Canning''s father. I told him I would bring her murderer to justice.¡± I slashed my palm and smeared my blood across Oswald''s face. And before Hopper could say anything else I shoved Oswald''s face into the pentacle I''d carved on the floor.


    This was the first time I''d used the liberation ritual on a live person. I wasn''t sure if it was even going to work. But in the back of my mind, I¡¯d been curious from the very beginning. What would happen if I did this?


    To my surprise, everything just went dark

 40. Scarlet Gaze

    "Oswald, your parents are back to pick you!" a voice called out. The day was warm. There was a sound of children playing.


    I have to go home now.


    Wait what? I didn''t think that. Why did I hear it inside my head?


    They''ll make me stay in my room again. They''ll be having a fight again.


    I saw a lawn in the back of a building. There was a slide, a swing and a sandbox. A boy stood up from the grass. Soil had stained his trousers. And something was hidden in his pocket.


    A dead squirrel. I knew that because I could sense my excitement to go home and tear it open like a pack of chips, eagerly exploring what I had taken away from this sad little creature.


    I paused. These thoughts weren''t mine. I looked at the boy. He was standing in the middle of the playground. He turned to look at me. As if waiting for me to follow him. So I did.


    Oswald''s parents didn''t get along. It was easy to tell by the uncomfortable silence they shared wherever they went. Oswald had gotten used to not talking or smiling at his family. His father loved booze more than anything and kept smoking incessantly. He coughed like he was about to puke his guts but he never quit the habits. The mother didn''t care either.


    Home was an apartment in a noisy tenement. Days were spent in more awkward silence. Nights were spent fighting over things that didn''t matter. Oswald''s mother often walked into the boy''s room when he was asleep. She would often have a black eye. She would also have her husband''s belt in her hand. She would use it on her son.


    Oswald had gotten good at not making any noise. Mother would leave Oswald after she was done. Days would go on like they always did. The routine was set. Life was clockwork.


    Oswald had gotten good at trapping birds. He loved the way they fluttered helplessly in his hands. He loved how inevitable he was against them. He could pluck their wings with his hands and they couldn''t do anything.


    Elementary school. Oswald was a great artist. He drew pictures of animals. His teacher was impressed by his skills. She put his drawings up on the classroom wall. His parents couldn''t act like they cared when she told them about his excellence in class.


    Days passed. But the year hadn''t ended yet. Oswald couldn''t remember the last time he smiled like a normal kid. He didn''t find the sense of humor of his peers funny. Most children left him alone. They probably found his hands weird. They''d seen them stained with animal blood way too often.


    The year still hadn¡¯t ended. For the first time, Oswald''s prey slipped out of his hands. He ran after it. Only to run into a woman in a red skirt that tapered down to her knees. A circular black cloud was painted on the front of the fabric. It resembled a black iris. The woman''s face was hidden behind a large sun hat.


    She held a pigeon in her hand. She gifted it to the boy who was mesmerized by the sinful red color of her dress.


    Days went on. But Oswald had changed. He had a secret to keep now. He had gone from cutting up rodents and birds to strangling stray kittens. He had also learnt names and nature of chemicals that his classmates hadn''t even heard of. He also knew when a muscle tissue was injured in the human body, lots of potassium was released in the bloodstream.


    Days went on. The year finally ended. Oswald''s parents had passed away. His father died of liver failure. His mother had a heart attack. The causes of deaths looked natural. And Ravenwind forensics weren¡¯t developed enough to prove it otherwise.


    Oswald went on to live with his aunt. On his way home from school, the woman in the bright red skirt met him again. This time she ruffled his hair and said something no one had ever said to him before. ¡°Good boy. I''m so proud of you.¡±


    Years passed. Oswald was in his puberty now. Girls found him handsome. Boys found him creepy because he was too quiet and didn''t get bullied easily.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    He spent about a year with his aunt before he came home from school one day to find the Internal Police at his doorstep. His aunt had passed away at her office. Her coworkers found her asleep at her desk. When she didn''t respond to any of them, they called the police.


    The autopsy would conclude that she died of a heart attack too. Her blood vessels had been blocked by internal clotting. But she had been in fine health all her youth. So the cause of death had put the medical examiners in a state of confusion.


    Oswald reacted to the news of his aunt''s passing with a surprising amount of sadness. He had trained himself to tear up on cue and act like how most people did in situations like these. The police probably believed that the boy really saw his aunt like a second mother.


    When in reality, Oswald had never even considered his aunt as a human being. That''s what he thought of his dead parents and the rest of the society and everything that was sentient.


    Years passed. Oswald graduated high school a complete orphan. He sold off whatever he had inherited from the family he had killed and left without looking back.


    Years passed. Oswald graduated college. He still made no friends. Nor did he take any lovers. But more corpses kept appearing in whichever town Oswald lived.


    There was a knock at the dormitory door on the day Oswald was packing his belongings and preparing to move to another place. Oswald opened the door to a man in a blood red business suit and a devious smile.


    ¡°Look at you, all free and independent,¡± the man said. ¡°I¡¯m proud to inform you that you¡¯ve fulfilled all conditions.¡± He handed him a white colored box with a crimson eye on it, his smile not faltering for a second. ¡°You have my best wishes.¡±


    For the first time in a long time, Oswald felt a skip in his heartbeat as he took the box from the man. Inside the box was a vial of red liquid. The Scarlet Elixir. The same substance that had allowed Oswald to cause the clots in his aunt''s veins.


    But what he was provided with last time was a few measly drops. This vial however was what he needed to ascend.


    Another year passed. Now Oswald was in Orowen. The Scarlet Elixir gave him those powers that he had used to kill those ten women. And the people who gave it to him had made him wealthier. He just had to do their busywork for them. However, what that work was I couldn''t tell. That information couldn''t make its way to me.


    The last corpse fell at Oswald''s feet. This was Samantha Canning. And in a flash, the next thing I saw was Oswald pinned to the floor under me, my ritual knife at his throat.


    Then I carried out the liberation ritual on him.


    If my consciousness had come unstuck after carrying out the ritual on him, it seemed to return to its original place after that. I was back in my body.


    But I wasn''t in Oswald¡¯s house anymore. My surroundings had shifted into a lightless, formless space where time didn''t seem to exist like it did in the real world. However, it didn''t seem to hinder my ability to perceive things in any way. I was still reeling from a slight sense of whiplash when my eyes happened upon a tall black and white door in front of me, engraved with symbols that I didn''t understand.


    I was captivated by the sight of it when I felt a tug on my hand and a sound of clinking metal. I looked down to find a long obsidian chain coming out of my palm like a large blood vessel. The other end of this chain was locked onto Oswald''s wrist. Or was it Oswald''s abyss? I wasn''t sure since his body looked slightly more translucent but less darker than all the other abyss that I had extracted. He tugged at my chain again.


    ¡°You want me to set you free?¡± I asked.


    Oswald nodded and looked at the door with a longing in his eyes. ¡°It is time for me to go now. Not like you can keep me out of that door for long anyway.¡± His voice was as monotone as it was when he was alive.


    ¡°Answer my questions first,¡± I said. ¡°Who were those people dressed in red?¡±


    ¡°Scarlet Society,¡± he said briefly.


    I had never heard of that name. And old Elsa''s memories didn''t help either.


    ¡°What was that eye that was connected to you?¡± I said.


    ¡°I don''t know,¡± he said. ¡°But that¡¯s what the Scarlet Society had told me to do. To understand Him. To find the real Him.¡±


    ¡°Was killing people a way to understand Him?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I gave a single nod. ¡°How do you know it wasn''t the¡­real Him?¡±


    ¡°He felt incomplete. But now I''ll never know where He is.¡±


    ¡°What did the Scarlet Society want to do once they found Him?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know. They never told me that.¡± He looked at me. ¡°Am I free to leave now?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I''m done. I liberate you.¡±


    The obsidian chain disappeared. The black and white door opened. There was a big flash of light. The last thing that Oswald said before he disappeared beyond the door was, ¡°Thank you.¡±

 41. Choices

    And then the door closed in front of me. Its image began to distort and fade away in front of my eyes. But before it completely disappeared, I noticed something on its dual colored surface--a keyhole.


    I blinked for a second and I was back in Osawld''s house, straddling his corpse. I swallowed hard before moving off the dead man.


    Hopper was at the sink, busy trying to wash the blood off his half sliced shirt. He noticed me when I rose to my feet. ¡°I think I''ll need to borrow one of his shirts,¡± he said and then he asked me what I had just done to the man.


    While he rummaged through Oswald''s closet, I gave him a brief rundown of what I had done and what I had seen as I waited in the hallway outside Oswald''s bedroom. When Hopper returned, tucking in his fresh shirt, I asked him, ¡°So does any of it ring any bells?¡±


    ¡°Not in the slightest. I''ve never heard of an organization named the Scarlet Society.¡±


    ¡°And what about the elixirs that can put you in a close relationship with these weird entities?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Those do exist.¡± He nodded. ¡°What you described sounds like a protogod. They are fragments of real God like beings that are capable of forming close binding vows with mortals. They usually need mortals for a specific task. And thus they enter into a symbiotic relationship with them.¡±


    ¡°Power in exchange of¡­whatever the protogod asks for?¡± I asked.


    He nodded again.


    ¡°I believe you''ll dig up some information on the Scarlet Society now?¡± I said.


    ¡°Apparently, yes. But it''s going to be crafty, I can tell.¡± He put on his jacket and his top hat. ¡°Based on what you''ve told me, the Scarlet Society seems to be very deliberate and slow on whom they recruit. If they are that slow and secretive, it means there are going to be less clues to find out about them. But Oswald gave us a place to begin at least.¡±


    Hopper wrote down a brief note describing the situation at hand and passed it over to one of the two watchmen at the main gate of Werner Housing. ¡°Take this to a nearby police station and tell them that General Hopper has asked for assistance. Also, tell them to bring along a medical examiner,¡± he said.


    After the guard hurried away, I asked Hopper, ¡°What about me? Is my name going to come up?¡±


    ¡°Depends. Do you want it to come up?¡± he asked.


    I looked at him, a bit surprised by his leniency. He read my expression and answered me before I could voice my thoughts.


    ¡°Honestly, this case was none of your business in the first place,¡± he said. ¡°You helped me deal with it, I appreciate it. But involving you officially would only create more complications for me while providing evidence in the court regarding why I had to kill him.¡±


    ¡°Wait, but you didn''t¨C¡±


    He gave me a knowing look. I nodded, finally understanding his implication. ¡°So, you were onto Oswald. He attacked you. A fight broke out and you killed him in self defense. That''s the story?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°It''s less complicated that way.¡±


    ¡°What about the guards that saw me entering with you?¡± I asked.


    He waved the pouch of ederanth powder.


    I nodded again. ¡°So it''s all sorted.¡±


    ¡°No, it''s still very complicated,¡± he said. ¡°The serial murder investigation might''ve ended here but the whole Scarlet Society matter has opened a new door. The possibility of this organization carrying out more crimes for the sake of understanding ¡®Him¡¯ is very real now. The internal police is certainly going to be busy for a while with this.¡±


    I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, ¡°Also, you didn''t really see any of the things I told you about Oswald yourself. How are you going to prove those things actually are true?¡±


    ¡°I''ll handle it, don''t worry.¡± Hopper shrugged. ¡°Your work here is done. But thanks for helping me out with this investigation.¡±


    ¡°I would like to ask something more if you don''t mind,¡± I said.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Can you tell Sydny Canning about what I did? I mean, just tell him that I was the one who personally killed Oswald.¡± I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. ¡°And if one of his friends has something similar that needs to be taken care of then¡­he can refer me to them.¡±


    Hopper¡¯s face turned thoughtful and he remained silent for several seconds. ¡°If Sydny Canning does refer you to someone else for a matter like this one it would mean, you''ll be running as a vigilante.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I waved my hands frantically. ¡°It doesn''t just have to be something related to an unsolved murder. It can also involve a job that requires some special talents.¡±


    ¡°What if it involves more unsolved murders?¡± Hopper folded his arms across his chest. ¡°This case with Oswald was an exception, Miss Grimly. If something similar shows up you are just asking me to turn a blind eye to things. I know you and your friends have a good reason to not trust the law enforcement but the reason I decided to keep living as Hopper was to change the way things are done in IP. What are we supposed to do if someone else just takes the law in their own hands and makes us look like fools? And not to mention, the real Hopper has already left a bad impression on the minds of civilians.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    He was right. I was basically asking him and the rest of Internal Police to stand and watch while I played around with high profile crimes just for fun. ¡°If something like this does show up, you''ll be the first one I''ll inform about it before taking any action. I promise.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Hopper said after a little hesitance. ¡°Then I can act selectively blind towards other things you get involved in. You can rest assured that I''ll let Sydny Canning know about your work in this case.¡±


    And with that I left Oswald''s home. On the tram ride back to the Burning Bend I kept looking down at my hands. I had just killed someone.


    For once, I didn''t regret it. I''d put an end to a serial murderer''s rampage throughout the province.


    Yet a part of me felt that if only had Oswald been born in a different house with better parents, maybe things would''ve turned out differently for him. But in that case, he wouldn''t even be the same child that grew up to be Oswald. He would just be someone else.


    I didn''t ponder over that thought for too long. Another thought was already pushing its way in my head. The liberation ritual. According to Elsa¡¯s notes, an abyss can¡¯t be extracted from a live creature. But she hadn¡¯t specified what the liberation ritual might extract instead. I don¡¯t know why she had left that particular bit of information out of her entries. But it was not a secret anymore that if I targeted a living human being in the ritual next time, I¡¯d end up separating the body from the soul.


    And using the ritual on a living Oswald had taken me to that part of reality where souls passed onto the other side. I remembered the door that stood at the passage. I remembered the keyhole on its surface.


    Even if the obsidian key was the one that could unlock the door, it still meant that I would have to use the liberation ritual on a live person or maybe an animal in order to access the door. That thought alone made me wary of whoever it was that wanted the key delivered to me. And whatever it was that lay on the other side of the door.


    ****


    I arrived back home by afternoon. Smokewell was still lounging on the couch. "So, how was shopping?" she asked.


    "Good."


    "Show me."


    I showed her the crow-feather quill and the goatskin parchment. I also showed her the curse channeling cards. She examined each item before raising an eyebrow at the cards. "Seems like you had a productive day," she said.


    "I think I did." I nodded, keeping my face nonchalant.


    "Good," she said again. She stood up on all fours and stretched her back before hopping up on the mantle above the fireplace. "Now that we have a place of our own and since Miss Housemate isn''t home right now, it''s a good time to catch up."


    Smokewell''s statement almost made my mask of calmness slip off my face. The question itself was quite simple and innocent. But for some reason I got a wary feeling from the conversation that lay ahead of me. "Sure," I said and dragged an armchair close to the fireplace. "What''s this about?"


    "About the new skill that you have put on display in these past few days." The cat licked her paw. "The liberation ritual."


    There it was. That was the reason why I had got that wary feeling. Yet, I wouldn''t say I was caught completely off guard. This conversation was bound to happen, since old Elsa had prepared and studied the ritual secretly and without Lily or Smokewell''s knowledge. "Yes, I was wondering when you''d ask me about it," I said. I was fairly prepared for whatever the cat was about to throw at me. But I would be lying if I wasn''t a little nervous.


    "Why didn''t you tell me that you were working on something like that?" Smokewell said.


    "There didn''t seem to be a right time for it," I said. "At least not in the past couple of months. What with the Inquisition hot on our heels and there not being a safe haven for us to hide in."


    The cat nodded. "Where did you learn the ritual from?"


    I shook my head. "I created most of it myself," I said. "Based off of other rituals from the Dark Arcana."


    "Which rituals exactly?" Smokewell asked.


    "Reverse necromancy was one of them," I said, parroting off what I''d read in old Elsa''s journal.


    "The principle of soul chaining?" Smokewell suggested.


    I nodded in agreement. "Where necromancy mostly involves reanimating a dead corpse after separating its soul. Reverse necromancy involves separating and tethering the soul to the mortal realm temporarily."


    "But soul chaining only works if you are drawing power from a soul. A mortal soul gets connected to the spirit realm the moment it leaves the mortal body." The cat''s eyes were glinting with interest as she talked. "Making them act subservient towards you can''t be carried out simply by soul chaining."


    "That''s why I narrowed my focus down to the abyss instead of the entire soul," I said. "The abyss stays behind while the core of the soul gets summoned to the spirit realm after death. The abyss is also sentient enough to take orders. But its spiritual skeleton is more flexible than the core of the soul," I said. "Because of that flexible nature, I can bind the abyss to myself and even make fully formed abyssal beings pass through walls and doors and command them to solidify themselves at will. That''s also the reason why some of them can travel at really high speeds."


    Smokewell''s face was more thoughtful than impressed. "But since they are more subservient and only mildly intelligent, they do seem to fumble your orders," she said.


    "That''s a hurdle I intend to cross over the course of my studies," I said. "I think the fault lies in the way I communicate my orders with them."


    "The problem can be solved quite easily if you establish some specific spells for basic orders," Smokewell said.


    I paused before saying, ¡°How do you suggest I do that?¡± I asked.


    "That mark on your palm." She pointed at my hand. "Modify it just enough to incorporate some spells in them. Note it down in your hexonomicon under ¡®liberation ritual¡¯. You''ll be able to cast specific orders then. Did you forget what I taught you?"


    I raised an eyebrow. "Writing down the ritual...decreases its chances of failure," I said slowly, feeling dumber as the realization settled upon me. The solution to that problem sounded simple when Smokewell pointed it out like that. I tried not to look too embarrassed.


    "Don''t forget the axiom of relevance," Smokewell said. "If the method of ritual isn¡¯t relevant to the intended result, the ritual would fail. That''s why you can''t just write whatever gibberish you want in your hexonomicon and call it a ritual."


    I nodded. "Thank you, madam," I said with a faint smile. "You''ve really solved a problem that I probably would''ve spent hours on."


    Surprisingly, instead of reveling in pride Smokewell just shrugged. "I''ve said it before and I''ll say it again, clear thinking is a witch''s strongest weapon. Your malice is made of knowledge, Elsa. That makes you susceptible to get lost in the trivialities of witchcraft. I won''t deny that it makes you understand and process information much faster. But remember that the best way to enter a house isn''t always opening a portal in the wall. Sometimes, you can simply try the door."


    My smile got wider. "I''ll remember that."

 42. Way of the witches

    Smokewell nodded and stopped licking her paw. The cat raised her head and called out for Lily. "Get over here with your hexonomicon!"


    Footsteps rang out the next moment. The girl came out with the thick leather tome held under her arm. "Here, ma''am!" She was dressed in a blouse and skirt. Her auburn hair were tied up in a bun and she was wearing leather gloves that gave off a faint whiff of chemicals.


    The cat pointed the girl into a chair next to mine. Lily settled down and gave me a smile and looked at Smokewell, eyes brimming with eagerness and curiosity.


    "How many years have you been learning under me now?" Smokewell said, sitting upright on the mantle.


    Lily tapped her chin with a finger. "You took me in when I was thirteen. So, it''s been four years.¡±


    Old Elsa became Smokewell''s apprentice when she was eleven. "I¡¯ve been with you for six years," I said.


    Smokewell hummed. "By the time I was around your age, I was already flying the broom," she said.


    "Wouldn''t that mean, you haven''t taught us well?" Lily said uncertainly.


    "Shut up," Smokewell said. "My achievement isn''t anything to brag about. Just because I could fly when I was young, it didn''t mean I was the best witch in my coven."


    "You were a part of a coven?" Lily asked in wonder.


    "Only a temporary member." Smokewell nodded. "The hag that taught me rushed me through everything. I was a fast learner so she didn''t care to let me explore or experiment with anything. She was too eager to sign me up with a coven and be done with me."


    "Um, why was she so impatient?" I asked.


    "Because covens offer a scouting fee for bringing in pre-trained witches." Smokewell scoffed.


    Lily''s jaw went slack in surprise. "She sold you off to the coven?"


    "More or less." The cat shrugged. "Actually, I was quite relieved to be rid of her. I was almost happy to become a part of a bigger group. A group of witches who knew how to use their skills in the real world. They were professionals. And I was excited. But they turned out to be a real bunch of freaks."


    "What did they do?" Lily asked.


    Smokewell was quiet for a moment before she spoke again, "Because a coven isn''t a place where talented witches come together to test the limits of their witchcraft or even make some money." Her face turned grave. "It was just a big mountain, where the ones at the top kept themselves busy by keeping everyone else at the bottom. If you were good with your skills they worked you like a horse until your limbs were ready to fall off and your throat was dry from chanting spells."


    "Why did they do that?" I asked.


    "Influence," the cat said, "This was forty years ago when the covens were still quite small and trying to make a name for themselves. The only way to do that was to sell expensive potions to noblewomen¨Cstuff that cured infertility and other diseases. And of course, cleansing accursed lands. Once they gained the favor and confidence of nobles, they functioned much like stray dogs who scared away other strays from invading their territory. Once they had claimed an area for themselves, they spread their influence over to the commoners, selling things and doing jobs for them. I joined a coven in those earlier, much more hectic days. Since they made me work so much for so long, it was hard to not become a witchcraft scholar by the time I was seventeen."


    "I''m sorry, you had to go through that," Lily said in a gentle tone.


    "Did you just keep slaving away for them?" I said.


    The cat nodded. "For seven years. Then my talent really began to shine and get the attention of those at the top. They were about to promote me."


    Lily and I were both leaning in now. "You became a top dog at the coven?" I asked.


    "No. I ran away," Smokewell said, staring at the wall.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Lily''s jaw went slack again. "But why?"


    "Because I discovered what it was they did to you in order to make you ascend further," Smokewell said.


    I rolled my lips nervously and asked the cat what it was that she had discovered. No words came from her for an entire minute.


    "I never told you how potential witches develop malice, did I?" the cat asked.


    Lily and I shook our heads.


    "This is just more speculation on the part of scholars. But malice comes from children being exposed to something malign in their environment," she said.


    "I thought children were just born with malice at random," Lily said.


    "Children were born with the potential of a malice. But a child has to undergo certain conditions for the potential to get activated and form a malice. At least that''s what the theorists have speculated." The cat shrugged. "There are multiple factors that might influence the formation of a malice. A tortured upbringing, early exposure to witchcraft or entering a contract with a supernatural entity. But getting back to the promotion--" the cat paused, casting a deadpan look at the wall. "They make you undergo a ritual in order to help you climb up the echelons. One that is supposed to put you in close contact with a demi-god," Smokewell said. "They call it the Rite of Ascendance. They make you a slave to a demi-god who grants you power and knowledge if you can sate the demi-god¡¯s hunger."


    "What do they eat?" Lily asked.


    "Malice," Smokewell said.


    Silence descended over the room. Then Lily spoke up again. "Malice can be eaten?"


    I frowned. ¡°Wouldn''t their hunger drain the witch empty?¡±


    Smokewell raised a paw and said, ¡°One question at a time.¡± Then she looked at Lily. "Malice can only be devoured by divine entities, especially the Ravenous Ones. They keep devouring your malice and bestow you with ¡®blessings¡¯ that allow you to get better at witchcraft and keep your place at the top of a mountain at whatever coven you were slaving away at." Then she looked at me. ¡°You''ll never run out of malice. Witches always have just enough malice sufficient for their current level of witchcraft.¡±


    ¡°Then what do these demi-god¡¯s blessings do to a witch?¡± I asked.


    ¡°To put it briefly, they make you greedy.¡± The cat licked at her paw again. ¡°But the blessing can do many things for your malice and your skills. They make your progress easier and faster. For example, if Elsa makes a bond with a demi-god, then her intelligence would be boosted several times. Which in turn would make it easier for her to carry out rituals that she finds difficult. So she can start to tackle more complex rituals. Or if Lily got hurt in a fight then she won''t have to wait for her malice to heal her before casting another spell. If all of that sounds like something you want handed to you, then congratulations, the Ravenous One has managed to make you greedy too.¡±


    Then Lily suddenly gasped. ¡°Did you bond with a Ravenous One then?!¡±


    Smokewell laughed dryly. ¡°Not even over my dead body.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you so greedy?¡± Lily said with a genuinely puzzled look.


    Smokewell wasn''t amused. ¡°I''m only greedy for money. But I don''t need any hungry gods to make me a better witch.¡± Then she sighed. ¡°Anyway, I ditched the coven when I learnt that''s how witches at the top became strong.¡±


    Lily raised her hand. ¡°Call me weird but that sounded like¡­well, not such a bad deal.¡±


    ¡°If you like staying at the top of a mountain, then yes. It''s a good deal. But that wasn''t the reason why I became a witch,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°Truth is, mortals are the saddest creatures in any plane of existence. Not only are they the weakest but their lives are also awfully short. They spend half their time trying to understand the world they live in and the other half trying to conform to the rules of that world. That was the thing that I hated the most about being a human. Just when things were getting good I had to kick the bucket.¡± The cat rolled her eyes.


    ¡°But, you did it to protect us, didn''t you?¡± Lily said. ¡°That''s what you said that night at Asmod''s place.¡±


    The cat looked away with an air of what seemed to be arrogance but there was also a touch of shyness. ¡°Don''t make me repeat that stuff,¡± she said.


    I held back a little smile. Smokewell looked at us again after a minute. ¡°However, I didn''t tell you all that just because I was feeling nostalgic,¡± she said. ¡°I wanted to ask you, do you want to climb the witchcraft echelons?¡±


    ¡°We have a choice?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the cat said. ¡°We aren''t part of any covens so you don''t have to worry about bonding with any starving gods.¡±


    ¡°Wait, we can become better witches without doing all that?¡± I said.


    ¡°Of course, how do you think I became the Great Alana Smokewell?¡± the cat scoffed.


    ¡°If there''s another way then why do the covens insist upon their method?¡± Lily asked, scratching her chin.


    ¡°Because it''s easy and cheap and lets them maintain their hierarchy within the coven,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°My method is longer but it lets you live your life along the way. But because I am a good teacher I''m going to ask you what none of those covens ask their initiates or apprentices.¡± The cat''s red eyes settled upon us intently. ¡°Do you want to keep learning?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lily and I said in unison.


    ¡°I want to get better.¡± Lily nodded obstinately.


    ¡°Me too,¡± I said.


    ¡°Very well, then,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°Let''s start with assessing your current echelons first.¡±

 43. The Crowning

    First, Smokewell said we needed to go to another room. So we picked Lily''s bedroom. Then she made us draw a pentacle with a forty inch diameter on the floor. ¡°Now draw a crown at its center,¡± she said.


    We did as she instructed. She looked at the ritual pattern and gave a single nod. ¡°Now stand on top of that crown with your hexonomicons in hand.¡±


    Lily volunteered to go first excitedly.


    Once she was in the position Smokewell said, ¡°Now close your eyes and charge the ritual with your malice. Don''t let your focus waver.¡±


    While Lily focused, the cat hopped up on my shoulder and said, ¡°This is the crowning ritual. We use this to determine how far a witch has come since she began practicing witchcraft.¡±


    As Lily kept focusing, the pentacle began to glow a smoky black shade. Then a colorless ball of light flickered over her head before it took the shape of a crown. It was perched right above her halo. My gaze was locked on the crown and then it started to change its color.


    ¡°Wait, it looks like steel,¡± I said.


    ¡°Lily is at the Apprentice echelon,¡± Smokewell said. I was surprised she didn''t sound disappointed or sarcastic. ¡°That''s what a steel crown indicates. I was expecting that much. Your growth has been slow but I''m still glad to see you climbed above the Initiate echelon.¡±


    Lily opened her eyes and beamed at us with a big smile. ¡°Thank you!¡±


    Smokewell hopped onto Lily''s shoulder after she stepped out of the pentacle. ¡°Now, it''s your turn,¡± she said to me.


    Just as Lily had done, I stood over the crown with my hexonomicon. I closed my eyes and charged the pentacle with my malice. I felt a tingling sensation running up the back of my neck. Goosebumps rose on my arms and something tickled the roots of my hair.


    Then I heard Lily clapping her hands. ¡°Miss Elsa, you''ve gone up!¡±


    I didn''t let my focus dwindle and kept my malice flowing through the pentacle. I opened my eyes and looked at them. ¡°What happened?¡±


    Smokewell gave a nod of approval and said, ¡°Your crown is bronze. You are not an Apprentice anymore.¡±


    I stepped out of the pentacle and then we erased the ritual pattern on the ground. While we were at it, Smokewell hopped onto Lily''s bed and made herself comfortable. She told me my echelon was called Adept.


    ¡°Is this a tier at which I stop taking orders from you?¡± I said playfully.


    Smokewell scoffed. ¡°Keep dreaming. Even if you die, your ghost will have to take orders from me.¡±


    I smirked at the cat and to my surprise she returned the look. Then she looked out the window. A flock of birds was flying high outside but not high enough to go above the clouds. When Smokewell began talking again her voice had a grave tone. ¡°You two may be thinking that you aren''t high enough on the witchcraft mountain but I can tell you that you two are leagues better than every other witch that I worked with at the coven. I''m not saying that just because I taught you. I''m saying that because you two actually love what you are learning. That''s all I need to feel proud as your teacher.¡±


    We were done erasing the ritual pattern on the ground. When I looked up I saw that Lily had a faint smile of content on her lips and she didn''t feel the need to make a joke at Smokewell. To my surprise, Smokewell didn¡¯t seem to be in a hurry to start barking orders at us either. I realized I didn''t feel like asking all the questions I had about witchcraft just yet.


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    So just for those few minutes, the three of us sat there, basking in the comfortable silence.


    ****


    Lily and I were in the kitchen, preparing a fairly late lunch while Smokewell sat on the dining table and puffed on her opium pipe. ¡°So, how many echelons are there in witchcraft?¡± I asked as I chopped some onions and tomatoes.


    ¡°Seven,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°And as you go higher, the distance between each echelon grows bigger and more tedious.¡±


    ¡°How big?¡± Lily said as she set a pound of beef on the board and began punching it with her bare fist.


    Smokewell blew a cloud of smoke and said, ¡°Let''s just say right now the difference between your skills and Elsa''s skills is as tedious as climbing a stairway to the clouds.¡±


    Lily squinted and pursed her lips. ¡°Do I get to make meal stops along the way?¡±


    The cat shook her head. ¡°There are no restaurants on the stairway to the clouds.¡±


    ¡°What if I packed my lunch?¡± Lily asked.


    ¡°How many lunchboxes?¡± Smokewell said.


    Lily squinted again in thought and said, ¡°How about ten?¡±


    Smokewell blew another cloud of smoke. ¡°Then, when you have finished your tenth lunch box and burnt all your energy, and when you keep climbing even after that, you''ll get closer to Elsa''s level,¡± she said.


    Lily looked at me with astonishment and then she nudged my arm playfully. ¡°Don''t worry, Miss Elsa, I''ll catch up to you because I don''t get exhausted or hurt easily,¡± she said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°Malice of wrath can be useful to keep bruteforcing up the echelons. But you''ll also be hurting yourself in many ways if bruteforce is all you rely on.¡±


    ¡°What about me?¡± I asked. ¡°How do I go higher?¡±


    ¡°The tier above yours is Warlock,¡± Smokewell said. ¡°And since you don''t have brute strength like Lily, you''ll have to rely on taking creative risks and not get yourself killed along the way. Not to mention, the stairway between you and the Warlock echelon is also a lot longer.¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± Lily said, ¡°Are you implying that it''s more difficult to kill me as compared to Miss Elsa even though I''m on a lower echelon?¡±


    ¡°I mean, I can''t think of many physical ways in which you can die.¡± Smokewell shrugged. ¡°If someone were to stab you in the guts, you wouldn''t feel more than a pin prick at your current strength and you''ll probably crush the assailant''s skull before they take another stab at you. And since malice becomes stronger the higher you go on witchcraft tiers, you''ll eventually be at a point where knives won''t even penetrate you.¡±


    Lily''s mouth went agape. ¡°I''m invincible?!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Smokewell said bluntly. ¡°You are only invincible against non-magic users and their physical attacks. But witchcraft at higher echelons involves complicated soul manipulation. You wouldn''t be able to survive that if all you rely on is brute strength.¡±


    Lily frowned. ¡°I see.¡± She went back to punching the beef.


    Smokewell took a longer puff and blew out a bigger cloud of smoke. Then she said, ¡°But just because Elsa is physically vulnerable doesn''t mean it''s easy to kill her either. Malice of knowledge is a dangerous weapon. She is more intelligent than any average person and can see patterns and make conclusions that others usually miss. But it is also a double edged sword. You¡¯ll need to keep pursuing a deeper and deeper understanding of witchcraft in order to progress. And sometimes it might put you in contact with something dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Wait, let me get this straight,¡± I said as I started to stir the chopped onions with beef that Lily passed towards me. ¡°So for Lily to progress, she needs to keep using witchcraft to exert more strength. And I need to use witchcraft to¡­dig up information that might sometimes even be dangerous or forbidden?¡±


    ¡°Precisely,¡± Smokewell said.


    Lily put some rice and water in a pot and set it to boil on the stove. She turned to look at Smokewell. ¡°I''m curious, which echelon were you at before we came to Orowen?¡± she said.


    The cat blew another cloud of smoke before giving us a look that said, ¡®you don''t wanna know, kid¡¯.


    ¡°No, really,¡± Lily said, ¡°I find it weird that we never asked you how high up you were on the witchcraft mountain.¡±


    ¡°That''s because my reputati on precedes me.¡± The cat shrugged. ¡°About my echelon though, it was High Mistress.¡±


    I paused and looked at her. ¡°How high up is that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It''s under Arch Master or Mistress,¡± she said with a smirk. ¡°Which is the highest witchcraft echelon.¡±

 THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER

    I just wanted to inform all readers that I''m taking a short 2 week hiatus. No, this isn''t one of those breaks where the writer says he is gonna sit back for a while and then just disappear forever. No, I won''t be doing that.


    The main reason I''m taking this break is because, this arc finale has taken a turn I hadn''t expected. The plot is moving in a direction I didn''t see coming and I need to plan things out better in order to deliver the goods with this arc finale.


    To expand upon that further (without going into major spoilers), what happens at the end of this arc is going to determine what happens to every single character moving forward. The effects are gonna be far reaching (even in terms of world building) and some pretty important revelations are gonna be made. There are going to be some fairly crucial alliances formed and pretty big discoveries are gonna be made.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Basically, the end of this arc is the first time where I feel like shit is actually getting serious now.


    Okay, I won''t try to hype this up more than I can deliver upon. But I hope I paint a clear picture. I don''t wanna fumble the end of this arc because it''s a very crucial point in the story. And I need some time to really make sure when this ends, everything feels satisfying.


    That''s all. In closing I wanna thank everyone who has read the story thus far. It means a lot. And I don''t want to disappoint any of you and that''s why I need some time.


    So, I''ll see you with new chapters after two weeks.


    Thanks for being patient.