Transmutation and Conjuration
Location: Lost Haven University – Lost Haven, Maine
Time: 8:30 p.m.
Time: 8:30 p.m.
The final stop on their evening quest was the one Charlie dreaded the most, returning to Lost Haven University. With the majority of LHPD guarding and picking up after the latest damage to Sherman Square, clean up crews at the University were on a day shift. They had a clear view of the memorial as they approached, placed up the stairs toward the main entrance of the university; flowers, candles, and pictures carefully set up and undisturbed. The alchemist relit a string of dead candles with her lighter, using a little bit of alchemy to reform the melted wax.
Digging her fists deep into her pockets, Charlie stood at the front of the memorial looking over the pictures, brow furrowed. A familiar sight for Lost Haven, collateral damage from supes and their bigger enemies picking fights around civilians. Willingly she joined them, the big superheroes at Sherman Square, only having survived the attack on Lost Haven University a few days before. Charlie knew, deep in the marrow of her bones, this wasn’t black and white. With no idea how strange things would feel once they entered the school grounds, Charlie wordlessly led the way inside.
Similarly to Sherman Square, there had been pockmarks from bullets on the floors and walls. All the broken glass was cleaned up, along with the bullet casings. It was quick work, patching up the drywall; nothing had been repainted as of yet. The tiles in the floor had been removed.
The heavy smell of chemical cleaners made Charlie’s nose twitch, she made a face, bitterly remarking,“This is a sanitized graveyard.”
Can you feel them, Holt appeared in Marie’s mind as he slithered intangibly over each dimly lit memorial, their spirits are restless, vengeful even. What further mischief might befall this institution, I wonder?
Keeping a few paces behind Charlie, Marie nodded in response to her familiar’s silent comments. Not only could she feel that forlorn stare of icy desperation and panicked remembering of fear, her eyes caught glimpses of shades wandering solemnly in her periphery. It would be easy to dismiss them, those caught in the weight of their misery, were it not for their numbers, how close they lingered as a despairing mass. Holt was right; in the years to come, Lost Haven University would see even greater strife from those it left behind.
Madalena did her best to keep her chin up as she followed closely beside Charlie. She too could feel the restless dead, hear their silent sobs of anguish and rage. She shared in their hatred and lamentation, having experienced the full force of the Hounds twice now, as had Charlie.
She reached over to touch Charlie’s shoulder before turning her attention to their weathered guide, Puck’s enigmatic cypher. The alchemist patted Maddi’s hand, no smile followed but a light squeeze let her know it was appreciated.
”Where the place, upon the heath?” Maddi read the clue aloud, scanning the entryway for anything of note, referring to the third and final illustration of the set.
A giant two-pronged stang dominated the foreground, rising from the earth with a half-opened eye hovering at its center. A serpent coiled around its base, forked tongue gesturing to a pile of bones, atop which sat a single skull with a foreign mark engraved onto its forehead. Two figures danced around the stang, one man, one woman, both with features that reminded Madalena of “The Lovers” card in the Rider-Waite deck.
”Any natural places around the university that this might be? Maybe a football or intramural field?”
Charlie thought, the University was surrounded by the city, there wasn’t really any green space save for the sports fields and the empty grass field behind the science buildings, mostly where chem and bio students would go to smoke or get some fresh air out of the labs. There were picnic tables back there and ashtrays. Charlie figured that’d at least be a place to start. “Follow me, I have a place in mind that might be good to check.”
She led the way through the halls, the steady tap of her staff against the ground and their quiet steps kept them company, “You guys must be picking up something different from all this, all I’ve got is a chill and a lot of sadness.”
Pushing on a pair of doors out to the outside, Charlie held them open for Marie and Madalena to go through, continuing her thought, “Haunted places ain’t for me, but there’s a few places around the city that are. I guess. . . The University is among them now.”
Charlie pointed to the left. They followed the walking path, which looked about the same as it did inside. Little scars, upturned patches of grass, jutted piles of earth summoned by Terra Firma. “Can you let ‘em know I’m sorry?”
”They know,” Marie was quick to respond, catching up to Charlie and Madalena, walking alongside them instead of behind. ”The dead are remarkably perceptive. And so long as they receive the respect they’re owed, you should have no problem from them.”
”But neither of us are mediums,” Madalena chimed in, ”we might see the odd shadow or two, but talking to the dead is an entirely different skill set . . . not to say that they can’t hear us normally, but, well, necromancy is complicated.”
”And not to add fuel to an already somber fire, but the university was likely already haunted before recent events. Universities are-”
”Oh yeah!” Madalena interrupted, ”liminal spaces, I didn’t even think about that. It’s like a spiritual/psychic crossroads, all the people that come and go wears thin on the veil.”
Charlie considered that and nodded, grateful for the insight. “That helps. Makes sense too, old grounds like this always have a long string of ghost stories from janitors to music professors. Even had this one dude from my graduating class claim he found ectoplasm from the old rez building out back.” Charlie snorted, “Brought it into the lab to test. I believed him, but everyone else called him nuts.”
“I had gotten drunk a few times at keggers and let slip I could do alchemy but nobody believed me either. Science students are a bunch of skeptics,” She said laughing, “Who knew?”
Madalena chuckled, thinking back on her brief college career as a history student. It was a boring existence, much as she expected, and despite her generally extroverted appearance, she wasn’t much of a party girl. But there were times, even then, when she tested her skills, made acquaintances who believed, and found the ire of quite a few skeptics.
”Reminds me of this church group that wandered into Shadow of the Moon last year.”
”Oh my god, I remember that!” Marie perked up, ”It was ridiculous, Charlie. This guy comes in with a handful of pamphlets and starts passing them out to customers about ‘the dangers of Satan’s secrets’ or something like that.”
”Yeah, and his friends, like three of them, start putting little crosses and Jesus figurines in odd places. I was about to call the police on them but one of their little wooden figures fell off a table and they all ran scared.”
Marie laughed, ”You’re welcome, by the way.”
Maddi’s eyes went wide, ”That was you!? God, I should have figured.”
Charlie snorted a laugh, “If only they knew about the devilish portal in the back. Easy to spook ‘em, at least.” Scratching her nose, “I like to think I did pretty well for meeting Puck the first time.”
“’Satan’s secrets’ ain’t all that bad afterall.”
”Just wait until you meet The Man in Black.” Marie nonchalantly replied, combing her fingers through her hair, instinctively tying a few loose strands into simple braids out of what felt like habit. ”You haven’t had the pleasure yet, Madalena, have you?”
”Not yet,” Madalena sheepishly replied, considering what it means to “meet” The Witch-Father. ”I was actually starting to wonder whether or not I’d ever see him. I only know bits of pieces of lore, same with Puck, but I know it won’t compare to actually seeing him in person, or, in spectral-whatever he is.”
”Don’t worry,” Marie smiled, ”he comes to all witches following the old currents. It’s sort of our rite of passage. The Witch-Mother is more elusive, but our Father comes to us when we ask.”
The alchemist’s stare lingered on Marie, thinking about Puck and the Witch-Father. She remembered how excited Carrie was when she met the Witch-Father, but never went into detail about the experience, shuttered away with her coven to discuss it at length. Even after talking to her Gramps about it, he knew about as much as Charlie did.
“It’s a relationship between the witches and their patrons. Not for the like of outsiders to truly understand, curious as we are.” She remembered Nathaniel had said.
Her eyes didn’t leave Marie, remembering meeting her the other night speaking so directly with Puck, meeting with him privately afterward. Frustratingly tagging along, helping sure but taking delight in their test, talking about their patrons as if she knew them personally.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance to, which is fine by me.” Biting her tongue, mystery women liked staying mysterious. Charlie also couldn’t help but open her mouth. “The more time I spend with you guys the smarter I’ve been feeling about witchy stuff.” She began, “Firstly, I think I finally figured you out, Marie. This whole old soul thing of yours is probably more apparent than you can tell. How fast you’re settling into the 600 year old shoes. ”
She turned about walking backwards, easily sidestepping upturned bits of pavement as if she had eyes on the back of her head. “So much so I wouldn’t even be surprised if you told me that Puck and the Witch-Father are related. Two devilish entities working closely with witches? That ain’t a coincidence.”
”Funny you should mention it,” Marie replied, ”they are, in fact, brothers. The five brothers, the Pwcca, founding members of the Tylwyth Teg, the faery tribes of Wales and the children of former Queen Mab.” Marie let out a quick sigh, taking a moment to consider whether giving out the following bit of information would harm her in the long run. Ultimately, however, she trusted Madalena, and Charlie wasn’t involved enough in the affairs of Puck and his brothers to cause her serious injury.
”It’s also worth mentioning that Mab is my grandmother.”
Madalena stopped dead in her tracks.
”Wait, so you’re . . . you’re Puck’s niece? How many more bombshells are you gonna drop on me in the span of two days, Marie? Not that it isn’t infinitely fascinating and I’m super happy to see you again, but my God woman, you’ve been busy!”
Marie laughed and nodded, ”It’s certainly been an adventure.”
Charlie made a face, lifting her finger, opening her mouth then shutting it. Not slowing down in her backwards walking, “There’s a first time for everything, my guess being right.”
“I thought my family was old.” Charlie commented, “Time to find the final piece and put this whole treasure hunt to bed.”
She turned around once more leading them across the grounds, heading toward the old residence buildings. One stood apart from the others, sheets covering the windows, doors locked when Charlie tested it, cleared out from the summer and after the attack. It had been renovated of course to fit more students into housing who needed it, but nobody particularly liked living in this one. The ectoplasm story was only one of many strange things happening there. It was faster to go through it as opposed to going around.
Digging in her pocket for her wallet, Charlie pulled out her library card, plastic and thin enough to slip into the door frame. Jiggling it a little, she used it to slice through the steel deadbolt opening the door a second later for her witchy cohorts to enter, propping it open with her foot while she fixed the bolt back into place, cupping the missing piece to the rest of the bolt.
It seemed far darker in there than the other buildings, missing a lot of light from the moon and street lamps just outside. Charlie licked her lips, entering behind them. While there was a heavy sense of dread earlier, this felt like a vibration in the air buzzing at their arrival as opposed to oppressing it.
“I think we’re getting close. Things feel different here than anywhere else.” She said checking her arm, seeing the goosebumps raising the hair across her arm. “Weird shit is here.”
Checking her back pockets for her flashlight, “Light incoming,” she said, clicking on her flashlight. The beam illuminated the floor and a. . . tail, brow furrowing the light found the long nearly transparent body of a serpent wearing a white featureless mask. The flashlight clattered to the floor, Charlie shrieked with alarm gripping her staff, it rolled across the floor taking the light with it.
“What the fuck!”
Madalena jumped at the clattering flashlight, searching the dark for whatever Charlie had seen. ”What, what was it?”
There was definitely a strange air to the building, more tangible than the entrance closer to the front of campus. The odd ghost or wight was enough to make one’s hair stand on end, but it was rare that anything inhuman manifested so openly without being summoned. The university, it seemed, held greater mysteries than previously believed.
”I saw it too,” Marie assured Charlie, taking a few steps ahead of them, scanning the room with her eyes closed, opening herself to whatever might be lurking. Indeed, whatever it was felt excitable, jovial even.
”The effects of the final effigy, I suspect.” Holt offered, calmly pacing alongside Marie as an ethereal cat. ”There is magic in this place, or the remnants of it.”
”College kids love to dabble,” Madalena replied, taking hold of herself and moving forward with renewed confidence. ”I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few other spirits roaming around besides ghosts, called up in a botched conjuration or seance.”
Charlie patted her chest, breathing through her nose. Stooping to pick up the flashlight once more, she checked if it was still there, relieved that it disappeared. “It was a huge snake wearing a creepy white mask, Maddi. This shit doesn’t dial down ever.” She said, walking on - shoulders hunched, an iron grip on the light.
It wasn’t the last of the strange spirits that appeared on their walk through the building, crawling at the edge of their peripheries, shyly hiding behind doors and walls, more snake inspired spirits followed behind them. Much to Charlie’s dismay and increasing discomfort the more she saw but her surprise dwindled away. They passed several first floor apartment rooms, common areas like a kitchen and living room, it wasn’t a straight forward front to back. Cork boards of student council events, residence building potluck posters lined the walls outside the common areas. It was seemingly untouched by the Hounds, no students would have been found in here past graduation. Following the emergency fire exit signs to reach the other side of the building, Charlie disabled the fire alarm switch on the door allowing them to exit without an issue. The residence building backed on a wild edge of brush, a small pathway cut into it for students to make a shortcut off campus.
It was dark, nature looking ready to overtake the pathway, new grass growing in patches, bushes obscuring the way through the further they tried to see.
“This is probably the most wild place the University has.” Charlie gestured to the seemingly dense forest, it crept closer every year as if to spite the University’s groundskeepers.
Madalena peered into the night, straining her eyes on the hunt for a visible sign, some shared imagery between the journal entry and their surroundings. She could just make out a fallen limb about staff height with four dry spikes at the end. With a bit of trimming, Madalena fashioned the branch into a stang, mimicking the two-pronged staff in the illustration. She pierced the ground with one end, forcing the staff to stand straight.
”This feels too simple, but we’ll give it a shot.”
She pulled the key from her back pocket, balancing it on her index finger and waiting for a response. To her surprise, the reaction was immediate. Spinning in what was now a familiar motion, the key began to levitate a few inches above her hand, then a few feet, until it reached enough height to align itself with the central gap between the stang’s horns. A faint light fell over them, called up from the forest, ushered in on the wind, riding the whispers of leaves and other hidden creatures.
Madalena felt a strange compulsion then, an urge to dance around the staff, one she questioned only for a moment before letting go of herself, giving in to that primal desire.
Marie felt it as well, recognizing it for what it was, the pull of the Sabbath. Where witches and spirits congregate, the Sabbath inevitably takes hold. She joined Madalena, taking her hands, dancing as a pair to the invisible choir, the echo of voices long past, the air of bewitchment. And with every turn, with every leap, every strange and contorted motion, the key began to glow brighter and brighter, burn hotter and hotter, until it became like the light betwixt and between, an image of the cunning flame.
Hunching up her shoulders, hugging her staff, Charlie watched them dance, feeling as if she really did not belong there or was even allowed to watch what was happening. Nonetheless, she watched both of them exude a wildly free energy as they danced, even if Charlie didn’t understand it she thought it was beautiful. Her cheeks touched with colour.
Squinting at the light of the burning key, she shielded her eyes once more.
An eerie presence presented itself, one that loomed over the trio upon their arrival, finally manifesting itself in the form of a serpent slithering up from the earth, coiling around the stang, reaching up to the light. After a moment’s hesitation, where all the world seemed to stand still, the serpent swallowed the key, its flesh burned away until all that remained was an ornate chest, just like the others, the alchemic key protruding from the lock.
Both Madalena and Marie collapsed, though neither were injured. Instead, they laughed, as if driven mad.
”The MOST dramatic finale to this whole deranged scavenger hunt,” Maddi exclaimed, righting herself and offering a hand to help up Marie. ”Is that what it’s always like? The Sabbath, the nocturnal meetings, all of it?”
Marie nodded, steadying herself with Madalena’s help. ”And that was just a small taste. The longer you practice, the greater the pull, until finally your spirit is called away at night to join the revelry.”
Hesitantly Charlie joined them, “Th-that was a Sabbath?”
Looking over their shoulders at the chest, “This is the final one right? If you guys don’t mind, could I keep the key afterwards? If it doesn’t burst into flames again.” She poked the key and it was hot to the touch, popping the tip of her finger into her mouth fanning at the key with her other hand to try and cool it.
“I can probably make a makeshift oven mitt.” She offered.
”That was only the beginnings of the Sabbath.” Marie replied, bending down to take a better look at the ornate wooden box, not really having seen the other two. She turned to Maddi ”And I suspect you won’t need anything like that. Go ahead, try it.”
Cautiously, Madalena kneeled down and touched the key, entirely cool to the touch. Smiling, she turned it, listening to the satisfying clicking of the final piece of the puzzle. Once opened, she passed the key to Charlie, placing it at her feet to allow it to cool off.
Inside the little trunk was the third of the effigies, tucked away in the indented space, carved with the same craftsmanship, a wooden snake with a placard beneath reading “Robin.” Next to the effigy lie the tool used to call the spirit into it, a small switch fashioned from a willow tree.
”It’s been a long day, but we’ve done it!” Madalena beamed with enthusiasm, looking between Marie and Charlie.
Charlie smiled next, “Yeah! One witchy puzzle after the next but we figured it out!” Draping her arm across Maddi’s shoulders, a comforting squeeze, “We’re that much closer to being able to tell the Witchfinder to fuck off!”
The smile turned to a big grin.
”Do you have everything you need to perform the conjuration?” Marie questioned Madalena, eyeing the bag she’d used to hold the other effigies.
Maddi nodded, flashing a quick smile to Charlie before fishing through the small duffel she’d brought along with a few other mystical supplies. Along with the containers holding each effigy, she also produced a large offering plate, a small flask of high-proof alcohol, a bundle of dried herbs, and a matchbook. She arranged everything on a picnic table set up outside the residence hall, weathered and not well taken care of.
”I deciphered the invocation a little while ago, right before we figured out the map. It’s fairly straightforward. Let’s not waste any time!”
Madalena took a deep breath, drawing in each passing wind, falling into a meditative state. She placed each effigy in the order in which they were found, humming softly to herself as she recalled the words to the rite. As she spoke, she interacted with each of the offerings laid out before the effigies, ringing the bell, upsetting the bones, waving the switch, and adding the alcohol and herbs to the offering plate, pricking herself with the thorns of her cane and allowing a few drops of blood to spill onto the plate, nine in total, before striking the match and lighting it.
Black spirits and white, red spirits and grey,
mingle mingle mingle, you that mingle may.
Come, come in Malkin by chiming of bell,
bring in luck and I’ll treat thee well.
Come, come Hellawin by hollow bone,
give cunning sight to me alone.
Come now Robin by willow switch,
bring me the power to bewitch.
A part from me and a part from mine,
three times three to make up nine.
Round, around, around, about, about;
all ill come running in, all good keep out.
With the conclusion of the final word, after all offerings had been given and burned, the effigies began to shake violently, as if they might split apart under the weight of some unseen force. The wind howled, bringing in the call of each creature, the screeching of the grey owl, the mewing of the cat, the hissing of the red serpent.
And then all was silent.
Madalena opened her eyes, examining each wooden totem, wondering if her call had been heard, if everything had worked.
Then she heard them.
”Look who calls, dear ones,” Malkin’s voice came as a sharp prick on Madalena’s skin.
”Another to teach, another to serve,” Hellawin’s voice was a throbbing behind the eyes.
”For these gifts, all the world shall be yours,” Robin’s voice was a crawling chill up Madalena’s spine.
”Hail, Madalena Hawthorne!” they cried in unison, appearing from behind their effigies as elegant beasts, each with subtleties that betrayed their otherworldly presence.
“Holy shit. . .” Was all Charlie could manage, “Three full fledged familiars.”
Malkin the cat, Hellawin the owl, and Robin the snake. Packaged, no doubt powerful deal. Charlie wondered who they originally belonged to, a question they could probably answer if she asked nicely enough. While they were together they were individually giving off completely unique vibes, where she got a little taste of each as they found the chests. The alchemist turned to look at Holt then back to the trio, they couldn’t compare. There was no arguing how old each of them were.
Malkin’s coat was light gray in colour, it looked soft - impossibly soft - as if he belonged on a show stage to impress a row of judges. His eyes were pale yellow, nearly white, narrowed settled on Madalena. His shadow caught Charlie’s attention, it seemingly grew even in the dim light growing far larger than any of the humans present then it turned walking freely while Malkin remained still. Charlie dug a heel at her eye as she watched it move, passing over Hellawin next, as far as Charlie could tell a normal looking great horned owl - brown, white and black feathers smoothed down, large yellow eyes blinking - head bobbing slightly left and right. Squinting slightly at his beak, as his head moved she caught sight of teeth, serrated and hidden beneath the beak. Having enough of that she looked finally to Robin. The low light did his scales no justice, glittering bright red as he shifted, they shimmered with incandescent colours like staring down the length of a kaleidoscope.
Bumping Maddi’s elbow with her own, Charlie whispered, “You should probably say hi or something.”
Marie winced a little at Charlie’s voice, momentarily stunned by the utter lack of ceremony, the swift negation of time-honored, often necessary formalities. She quickly reminded herself that the alchemist was just as new to this world as Madalena, electing to keep quiet and hope that Charlie would mimic her silence.
Holt looked on in as much awe as he was capable. His powers alone were dwarfed by the Weird Trio, but combined with Marie’s experience, he wondered if he could outmatch them. A passing thought.
Madalena took longer to respond than she’d intended, desperately combing the ancient lexicons ingrained in her memory for a proper greeting. She settled on something simple.
”Welcome,” her voice was clear, her tone slightly elevated, scholarly, ”Malkin, Hellawin, Robin. I thank you for your swift arrival and the promise of service. May our bond last as long as your years of restful sleep. I offer my protection, in turn. Your totems will be well guarded, this I swear.”
Marie and Holt both nodded in approval.
The trio couldn’t truly emote in their bestial forms, but Madalena got the feeling they were satisfied with her response.
”Look there,” Malkin mewed.
”Look there,” Hellawin cried.
”Look there,” Robin hissed.
The trio disappeared, vanishing on a chilling wind and reforming from behind Marie, Robin coiling around her left leg, Hellawin perching on the shoulder opposite Holt, Malkin blocking Marie’s path. Their presence felt nonthreatening, more intrigued than anything.
”A creature of the old magic,” they said in unison. ”A wielder of the witch-fire, no, something more. Shall we unveil the mystery, mistress? We can see you are curious.”
Holt listened, uneasy. Of course the Weird Trio would sense the pull of the old current, recognize Marie for what she was. And yet, he too shared their curiosity.
Conversely, Marie was ecstatic, radiating nothing but enthusiasm. If the Weird Trio could reveal something else about her past, perhaps provide her with a memory, or a piece of one that might lead her toward the next of her lost possessions, it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.
”Do it, Madalena,” Marie smiled, ”Whatever they have to say, maybe it’ll help me with my own deranged scavenger hunt.”
”Um,” Madalena stared at them, mulling it over. Marie had helped she and Charlie locate the trio without asking for anything in return, it seemed only fair that she be compensated for her time. If Maddi could aid Marie in uncovering certain truths from her past, why shouldn’t she?
”Oh what the hell,” she smiled, ”go ahead, lovelies, work your magic.”
The trio nodded, their eyes glazing over, turning black as night. Soon after, Marie collapsed, sent adrift in her memories, pulling one to the surface.
Gwyneth paced about her cottage, tripping over stray spools and spindles spun the previous evening by she and her cohorts - soon to be initiated into her inner circle if all went accordingly.
Tick, tick, tick
She kept a watchful eye on a diminutive orrery, a mechanical wonder offered to her by a roaming philosopher, a pitiful soul seeking the love of a Parisian noblewoman. Love was not her stock and trade; Gwyneth much preferred the fickle curse to charms and bewitchments of lust and romance, but it was not beyond her skill.
The orrery had been so enchanted to spin, matching the motion of certain celestial bodies. It was the position of the moon that held Gwyneth’s attention. The first night of the dark moon was upon them, and her plans would soon be set into motion.
“Gwyneth!” a haggard old woman cried out through the window overlooking the garden, “I’m sure she’s done it, oh she must have! I watched from over the hill, conjured up the form of a cat to peek through night’s veil. I spied her at work, she’s done it!”
“Come away from there, Elspeth,” Gwyneth motioned to the crone, Elspeth Goudie, ushering her inside. “You’ll catch cold, come here.”
Miss Goudie nodded with a toothy grin, hobbling around the front of the cottage and bursting inside with force enough to startle thunder.
“Did she speak the rhyme? Could you hear it from your perch?” Gwyneth led Miss Goudie to the hearth, sitting her down on a crooked rocking chair and offering a cup of tea, mugwort and dandelion root.
“Aye, I could feel them. When she wrapped the wee bundle up, I could hear her heart. She poured herself into it, like an instinct. She’ll return in the morning with the little one to thank you, as well she should.”
Gwyneth smiled, everything was falling into place. She turned her attention to her workspace, a table adjacent to her sewing equipment that housed the tools of her craft. Towering above it was an ashen lectern, adorned with a thick book bound in white, a serpentine pattern slithering and weaving itself around the cover to form intricate knotwork surrounding a central symbol, a dragon’s head.
As Gwyneth neared, the book fell open, flipping to the page she’d conjured in her mind, the invocation of Azazel. The language was simple, rhythmic, better sung than chanted, with power to reverse even the cruelest of misfortunes - when in the right hands, of course.
“Her child lives,” Gwyneth spoke softly, her voice building, teeming with excitement. “Our spell worked and another joins our cause. Soon, dear Elspeth, we will have all we need to keep the good Christians of Wales at bay, and our real work can begin.”
Marie gasped, lurching forward and gripping her head, trying desperately to relieve the pain of her sudden memory.
Madalena shot forward, taking hold of Marie’s arm to steady her.
”Oh my god, are you alright? What just happened?”
”The truth hides in plain sight,” the Weird Trio replied, ”and the witch’s baleful Breath holds aloft the path to each brother, where two roads meet.”
Charlie rushed to Marie’s other side supporting her at the shoulder, concerned confusion stitching her brows together. “Those memories hit ya like a seven ton truck huh?”
It wasn’t long after the trio had spoken that the phone The Ambassador gave Marie rang with a text tone, the sound of glass being gently tapped by silverware. The text read:
Thank you for making me look like a sickly fool during rehearsals, that vision could not have been timed better than when I was attempting a Grande Jeté. You are extremely lucky I did not break my ankle.
I will call you to discuss the vision when I am no longer being fussed over.
Followed by multiple angry emojis below the text.