Spring 21, 1388

  Madeleine pursed her lips, watching her reflection in the silver mirror. She slowly applied her red berry dye atop of her lips and gave her reflection a soft air kiss. Her warm breath fogged the glass, as she turned her attention back to her mortar and pestle.

  Thyme. Blood of an Innocent. Tears of a Mermaid. Mandragora roots cut with a silver knife. All ground with bonemeal from a criminal that was hung during the fading moon. Oh, and some lemon and mint to make it taste better.

  She slowly ground the mixture in the pestle until it was a fine paste, and spread the herbal smelling concoction on some crackers. They were simple saltines, and she had even paired it with milk tea with lots of sugar.

  She flicked her hand upwards and the tray floated, following behind her in the stuffed and crowded abode. Her eyes looked over the many Dimensional Boxes. “Hats”, “Dresses”, “Tableware”, “Reagents”.

  The tenement she acquired was far too cramped and far too expensive for what it was. But in Flowers-By-The-River, this small home that was located in the heart of the city was considered upper-class. It didn’t even have enough space for her broom collection!

  Yet, it met the requirements. Discreet being the most important, as she entered the guest bedroom.

  Evangeline had moved off the bed and onto the rocking chair, her frail arms locked around her knees, cradling herself as she rocked. Her once vibrant eyes were now the color of rainbows, and twitched and moved erratically around the room. Her mouth whimpered and drool spilled out.

  Madeleine took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She held it there for a moment, before releasing, and then forced a smile upon her face. She approached Evangeline, and set down the tray of crackers and tea on the messy nightstand.

  “Evangeline, mon amour, I am so pleased to see you out of bed. Are you hungry?” she asked, leaning forward to summon a handkerchief and wiping the spit from her lips.

  Evangeline’s eyes didn’t focus, still racing around the room. The rainbow specks within shimmered. She leaned back as the handkerchief wiped her mouth, and for a moment, the rainbow spiral disappeared.

  “Sister!” she immediately said, closing her mouth and her eyes returning to the stormy-blue Madeleine had loved. She stood up, but her numb legs gave out, slipping out of the rocking chair.

  Madeleine immediately grabbed her, wrapping her arms around the frail woman’s form. Evangeline had definitely looked far better just months ago. She was as tall as she was, but all the fat and muscle Evangeline once had had wasted away. Her brown hair was becoming thin and wispy, with some strands even turning gray. Her appearance was haggard, and as much as Madeleine tried, she couldn’t be kept clean for too long.

  Madeleine rested her head atop of Evangeline’s shoulder, again taking in a breath. She smelled unwashed and stale, filled with damp air and crusty skin. Madeleine’s chest burned, and her eyes began to tear, but she quickly hid it. Instead, she pulled back and looked at Evangeline’s eyes before they would return there again.

  “I’ve prepared you something to nibble on with the mixture Sister Benize had concocted. And some Tea too.”

  Evangeline nodded, leaning on Madeleine as her legs tried to force themselves up. She grunted with the exertion, before steadying herself up in a sway. She weakly reached for the crackers and placed her hand atop of a few. Her fingers shook, unable to fully grasp one.

  Madeleine watched, preventing herself from feeding Evangeline. She knew of all the things her sister wanted, it was just her dignity back.

  Evangeline grasped atop of a few crackers and held on, her shaking hands causing one or two to fall off the nightstand to the cleaned floor. Madeleine smiled, as her fingers waved, floating her sister's small meal back onto the tray. It also had her medication, and she had to eat all of it.

  Evangeline’s shaking hands brought it up to her nose first, and her face scrunched in disgust. “Sister, must I… it smells like grass.”

  Madeleine’s head shot to Evangeline’s, and stared into her eyes. “You ask me this every time, mon amour. You must, unless you want to return to the maze.”

  Evangeline’s body shivered, and she shoved the crackers into her mouth. Her mouth greedily chewed, swallowing as soon as she was able too. Her hands grasped at a few more, shovelling it into her mouth. Evangeline’s body trembled, and Madeleine saw the fear in her stormy eyes.

  “Slowly, slowly. Drink some tea as well,” Madeleine instructed, letting Evangeline eat as she got to work cleaning her room. There wasn’t much here save for Evangeline’s taxidermy collection, her quilts, a bed, and anything dangerous having been removed for her fugue states. Madeleine had been slowly working on removing some of the sharper fanged animals out, and replacing them with herbivores.

  It didn’t take long for either of them to finish. Madeleine sat on the rocking chair as Evangeline curled up on her bed. Evangeline took the cup of tea in her hands and brought it up to her lips, slowly sipping.

  “Sister, where are we? This doesn’t look like the other room…? Am I going mad?”

  Madeleine’s hand flicked and the curtains opened, flooding the room with sunlight. “No, we are in another city. I… did not have a caretaker I trusted in Oakheart for you, and we moved.”

  Evangeline nodded, looking out the window to the streets below. The paved paths of Central Street were filled with people moving about, and the noise of city life created a soft background noise for her. Evangeline looked down at her feet, and her overgrown toenails.

  Madeleine followed her gaze before noticing as well. Her smile faltered; she had in fact missed something, but it was getting hard to take care of her alone. Marigold was meant to find a cure, while Madeleine took care of Evangeline, and hopefully made the money for an [Interdiction] or a house away from others.

  “I’m sor-,” Evangeline began, but Madeleine hushed her.

  “You will be cured soon enough, mon amour. I am in conversation with a magnifique [Necromancer] to help with our money issues…” she started, and then forced herself to stop. She couldn’t admit she was also in contact with the Druid that cursed her, and was being forced to aid him to have the curse called off.

  Evangeline would not understand.

  “The walls are so pretty…. But they’re moving. Wait, do you hear that?” Evangeline began, and then yawned.

  Madeleine only ever had a few minutes with her sister in any moments of lucidity. She looked outside, as Evangeline collapsed atop of her bed. The Dreamless Tincture Sister Benzine made wasn’t a cure, but it let Evangeline sleep without dreaming.

  And dreams belonged to the Fae.

  She finally looked back when she could hear Evangeline snore, and got up to tuck her sister back into bed. She took the unfinished tea cup and drank it down.

  She still had a business to run, and if all went well, hopefully Evangeline would be helping her sooner rather than later.

  She had walked downstairs from the loft. A store with an apartment atop had a rent of 2,000 gold a month. It had to be clean money as well, and not just the common coinage she would have gotten from clearing a lair. That money would be taxed before being exchanged for properly minted ones at a terrifyingly bad exchange rate… and then taxed again with a service fee.

  Her smile faltered again as she looked at the empty shelves. Odd doodads and knickknacks were a hot commodity in a farmer’s village, but here, some of the people actually were able to discern the real thing. Her specialty was in the Black Market, which she had no access to in this city.

  Potions were always in demand. She wasn’t nearly as talented as her sister was, but a simple Health Potion or Symphony Restorer was something she could make. She also had the recipes, but it wouldn’t be nearly as good as a proper [Alchemist] would be able to make.

  Her fingers tapped on the empty shelves. Books were also in demand, but that would be at the smallest profit margins. Hexes and charms were mostly illegal, and she couldn’t offer those indiscriminately unless she wanted to be on the wrong side of the law.

  She glanced out the window, looking at the villagers walking by. Ms. Carnwich, although very chatty, had done wonders for her marketing – simply having her around made some of the villagers of Oakheart come in to chat with her as well, and they’d often buy something small. The false smile Madeleine had slowly reached her eyes, as she looked over to the back, where the store's oven was.

  Bread and pastries!

  Cooking was a hobby for her, one that she took up to pass the deadtime between shifts. Yet, here, with how many people there were, she could easily sell treats. While it was initially useful to acquire innocents for their blood – they’d often give a pint or two for some cookies and juice – here, she wasn’t able to sell Potions of Youth.

  She wiped the counter down and looked at the empty shelves once more, before nodding. She wasn’t here for too long, anyways. Thinking of a permanent set of things to offer was pointless, since she was just away from home.

  Home.

  Madeleine snickered to herself.

  “Mon Dieu… Oakheart is home to me?” she muttered, and turned to look out the window. Her heart was heavy, wanting her chérie to just burst through the doors and talk about whatever inanity was on her mind and distract her from her own problems.

  And that sensation was off for her.

  “Oldest of the Coven, and looking forward to a visit from a teenager to talk about her problèmes. If Sister Aster was in her right mind, she’d scold me…”

  Yet, her eyes continued to stare out into the streets, watching people walk by. Her hand flicked upwards, and rags and sweepers got to work, cleaning out the shop of dust and dirt.

  Madeleine took position at the counter and opened her own ledger. She had enough savings to eat the cost here, and even the small loans – gifts – she had given to her non-witchy coven wasn’t a huge cost.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  And it seemed like her biggest expense was going to disappear on its own. Things were looking good, if a bit grim.

  Of course, she knew that ‘good’ was facilitated in killing Bazerie. Her hands slid across her head, stroking her hair as she stared downwards.

  Yes, just do the impossible, or make an impossible amount, or put your faith in an impossible woman.

  She groaned. Her hands weaved through her hair and tugged at it. She returned the hand to her face to inspect the coiled strands. She scowled at the sight, but it was expected.

  Her hand flicked up again, as hundreds of pre-prepared potions of healing and symphony lined the entry shelves. Behind it, she placed books, and in the glass cabinet at the counter, she’d put the baked goods.

  They only had to last for a while, a month or two at most. Then she could return to her lodgings at home. At Oakheart.

  For now though, she had to get some usable information to actually make a plan. And for that, she’d need a bit of help.

  Lyrelle forest.

  “Ah, Missus La Croix! Have ya met my new batty pal ‘ere?” Wizex said. The Lyrelle forest connected Oakheart to Flowers-By-The-River, and the Underhill Warren was located dead center.

  Wizex waved to his side to introduce a massive mountain of a man. He stood at 8 feet tall, and his face was scrunched into the form of a bat. His ears were extended, and his eyes were black and beady. Patchwork fur coated his face and arms and skin, but Madeleine’s eyes were drawn to the armor he was wearing.

  It was pale and white like ceramic, but Madeleine quickly corrected that into polished bone. On his back was a greatsword made of the same material, and all of it shined in green light.

  “I have not, verte,” she offered the beast her hand.

  The beast looked down at it, and did not move. “How very, very familiar,” she mused, but left her hand there.

  “Shake it, you big lug,” Wizex commanded, causing the man to growl. Madeleine’s hair immediately shot up, but she forced herself to remain calm.

  His hand landed atop of hers, and the strong grasp squeezed in. “Laertes Hawthorne, General of Hawthorne Manor.”

  “Madeleine La–” she began.

  “I know,” he interrupted, causing Wizex to click his tongue.

  “She’s being polite, bat-face. Lady Hawthorne wouldn’t enjoy finding out you're being rude to her guests,” Wizex said.

  Laertes snorted, then turned to her. “I apologize. Too many words. What did you need?”

  Madeleine’s eyes looked him up and down. “What are you?”

  Laertes puffed his chest. “I am a [Drakhuul].”

  Madeleine stared at him, her face scrunching up into confusion. Laertes said nothing, so she turned her gaze to Wizex.

  “The Missus herself made him for Lady Hawthorne, ya. Some kin’ of vamp, that one is. Ugly as sin, but loyal. Broke a man in ‘alf easily for me.” Wizex filled in, before pulling out two daggers made of bone as well. “Missus even made me some new weapons too! Ain’t it nice, Missus La Croix?”

  She ooh’d, inspecting the weapon. Equivalent of steel, so nothing too advanced when people could acquire adamantine from the ores or Phoenix-Alloy from the Manufactorium, but steel was still better than what most people had.

  And definitely better than goblins.

  “If those weren’t made of bone, I’d want to sell them too. Which is why I’m here. Any goods you acquired that you need to sell, legally?”

  Wizex grinned, before patting Laertes. “Aye! Bat-face and I have been taking care of the local things. You lookin’ for gear, potions, or what have ya?”

  Laertes crossed his arms. “Snot-nose.”

  Wizex ignored him. “Keep tryin’ buddy. You’ll get something that sticks eventually.”

  Laertes snorted in response, but Madeleine didn’t see any true annoyance on his face. “Potions and trinkets, if you have them. And I need information. What are your cur–”

  Wizex raised his hand. “Free. Ain’t messin’ with an ally of the missus here, and your goals are my goals. Just kick a little back this way, and let those searching for a joint to raid know about my warrens, will ya?”

  “Oooh~? You want more people to try raiding you, vert? That confident? Et, merci pour votre cadeau,” she chattered off.

  Wizex looked up at her and blinked. He pulled out a dagger to scrape out something between his teeth, before he talked. “Oui madame. Nous avons besoin de plus de viande et d’esclaves pour la tribu. Et entre toi et moi? La?rte adore rivaliser avec ceux qui atteignent la salle au trésor.”

  Madeleine tilted her head. Wizex didn’t speak with an accent at all, and his bright eyes were in stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.

  Laertes slapped him against the head. “Said my name?”

  “I jus’ tol’ the missus you like fighin’ the ones that get to the treasure room, bat-face!” Wizex snarled, rubbing the back of his skull.

  “Oh. I do, yes.” Laertes confirmed.

  “I see. And a clever goblin at that. That is startling… you are under the raggedy farm girl’s control then, yes?” Madeleine slowly stated. Her hands twitched, getting ready if anything was to shift.

  Wizex looked up at Laertes, then at Madeleine. “You got nothin’ to worry about, Missus La Croix. The Missus would have both of our heads if anythin’ happened to ya, and that’s not even accounting for Lady Hawthorne.”

  “Yes. My ears still sting.” Laertes said.

  Madeleine chuckled. “What, were you two scolded?”

  Wizex and Lartes looked at each other, and then said nothing. Wizex swallowed, and then stopped fiddling about. “Have you heard about the Lyric Bay Slaughter yet, Ms. La Croix?” His accent was dropped, and his posture shifted straight.

  Laertes also looked down at the dirt, the beast looking like a disciplined child. Madeleine crossed her arms.

  “Non.”

  “Well, bat-face would probably tell the story badly, so I’ll do it,” he continued. “Basically.. Uh….” Wizex stalled.

  “We helped Mistress kill a family.” Laertes finished for him. Wizex spat on the ground, clicking his tongue with annoyance.

  “Excuse me?” Madeleine froze in face, her body beginning to pale. Her fingers clenched into her arms. While that wasn’t something unexpected for a [Necromancer], it was exceptionally unexpected for her chérie.

  “Thanks, bat-face,” Wizex sighed. “Long story short, The Dark Mother had tasked Lady Hart with killing some innocents. We helped out, killed a bunch of nobodies in the Lyric Bay. Lady Hart…”

  “..played some games.” Laertes interrupted again.

  “No, bat-face! I think she was just trying to show some mercy and the like, and just killed four kids.”

  Madeleine said nothing, listening to the story. Her fingers squeezed and released her arm, and her nails dug into her fabric.

  “Anyways, the family was eight children, and two adults. Made them select who died, and paid them per head. And gave two messages ‘Mother comes’, and ‘Mother wants the Arbiter back in the flock’ or something.”

  “Do they know?” Madeleine said, changing her relaxed tone into a quickened one. Already, she was thinking of damage control.

  “Who the Arbiter is? Laertes and I was thinkin’ it’s that Inquisitor she’s always yappin’ about, but that makes no sense, since the message went to Flowers-By-The-River–”

  “I don’t care about that part! I mean, I do, but do they know it’s Ashley?”

  “No, was wearing dress.” Laertes… helpfully explained.

  Wizex let out a breath, and rubbed his face. “Yes, she was,” he slowly continued. “The Dark Mother had given her a Harvester’s Robe to hide her identity. You should have seen it, she looked like one of the Dark Prophets! If I didn’t believe in the Mother of Monsters before… she wore it even better than Dr. Anise did.”

  Madeleine’s teeth clenched. “Who? Non, non. So, The Enemy is talking directly to ma petite fille now?”

  Wizex’s face scrunched and his eyes peered at Madeleine. “Yes? But I think she did it wrong too. But I can't tell anyone in the family that, not my place. Oh! By she, I mean Mother, not Lady Hart. She did her best.”

  “She played games.” Laertes responded.

  “Nah, mate. She’s still learnin’, poor girl. Mother shouldn’t have given her that task. That’s what you’re for. Or me.”

  Laertes considered this. “I do like killing. I do want to hear a child scream.”

  Madeleine forced herself not to shudder. At least when she did it, it wasn’t her first option, and she’d prefer to just drain a small amount of usable blood. “Is ma fille doing alright?”

  “We do not know.” Laertes said.

  “Lady Hawthorne has forbidden us from talking to Lady Hart directly without her involvement, and if Lady Hart were to approach us, we are to tell Lady Hawthorne immediately. And yeah, after that night, I can see why…” Wizex explained. “On the plus side, it means we get to bother our favourite [Witch] more. Want the goods, Miss?”

  “Oui. So you do not know who the Arbiter is? And you did not call her Lady Hart, did you?”

  “Nah, missus. No idea. All I know is Mother wants the Arbiter back into her flock. Arbiters a woman though. And nah, she’s called the Sweetest Daughter by us internally… I think everyone thinks her name is Death’s Daughter.”

  Madeleine’s eyes opened and she just let out a laugh. There was no humour in it, just fear and anxiety. “Your Mother - The Great Enemy - calls mon petite fille her Sweetest Daughter, and everyone else calls her Death’s Daughter. Vert, am I in danger?”

  Wizex looked up at Madeleine. “Are ya gonna buy her carrots?”

  “...Her carrots? Oui? I am acting as the broker.” Madeleine responded.

  “Then nah. Only thing she asked of me and Lady Hawthorne as well. Don' understand it at all.” Wizex shrugged, closing his eyes and then breaking his gaze. “Laertes, you wanna give her the loot.”

  “Do.. the people know she’s the Sweetest Daughter?” Madeleine asked.

  “Not unless they speak… I don't actually know.” Wizex continued. "I didn't call her that, and I don't know if she did. Laertes?"

  “Gravespeech.” Laertes immediately responded. “Language of Death. I did not.”

  “Magnifique! I am a member of a Death Cult! Mother Willow Bark, protect me.” Madeleine took the goods from Laertes and turned to the pair. “I will begin my investigation. If you need me, and I imagine we will be working together soon, do not hesitate to call upon me.”

  Wizex nodded. “Anyway, how? Not like we can enter that city. Laertes is too ugly and I’m too beautiful not to be noticed.”

  “I’m more attractive,” Laertes corrected.

  “Ya, keep tellin’ yourself that.”

  Madeleine watched the two. “Do you have a silver mirror?”

  “Nah, but I can get one.”

  “Get one. I’ll link it to our coven so we can speak like that.”

  “Wouldn’t that be more useful to give to the Missus herself as well?”

  Madeleine crossed her arms. “I had… gotten used to seeing her everyday. Mirror Communication is so… impersonnel. But I shall, next time I see her.”

  Wizex grinned. “Anything else, Missus?”

  Madeleine shook her head. “Non. I still… need to unpack this Death’s Daughter and slaughter news. I will see you tomorrow to enchant your mirror, and then we may talk more.”

  Madeleine walked away. She had goods and a place, and even some information. Now she needed a broker.