“He was here, he sent that creature into my space,” Simone said, her anger making the cottage windows rattle.
Lisette held her hand up a moment. Closing her eyes, she pulled the creature's scent into her head, picking it apart, using every strain to piece together what had happened.
Laying her head against the wood door frame, she let her magic pull her, taking mere aromas and adding sight and sound to them.
Her mind flooded with the image not of the man she had seen in the shop, but an elderly neighbor, even though the scent was the same. That was how he got through both barriers meant to stop skin riders and all previously met shadow puppets. He didn’t simply possess the body of people using them as a means to an end; he sucked in their souls, absorbed them entirely, wearing their skin and discarding it as he chose. It seemed that Bastian’s side had been infusing shadows with demons and this monstrosity was its result.
She shook her head. She had used up too much of the scent to see why it had not entered the house. Reading aromas was tricky. If you exhausted it before you were finished, you were out of luck. The more you focused, the more quickly it was used up. She had pushed so hard to find the creature’s origin that she had forgone the chance to see a weakness. She exhaled, her nose twitching from the sooty after tones.
She opened her eyes to find herself staring directly into those of her Aunt.
“Oh Mutant, we are in trouble,” she whispered, crossing herself forwards and then backward.
Simone nodded, the chalky pallor that had settled over her mocha skin was more than enough to convince her.
Wrapping her arm tightly around the young woman who she still saw as a twelve-year-old child far too often, she pulled her inside their home. With a flick of her finger, Simone had a fire roaring in the stone fireplace and the chicken fixins in the pot.
Lissette gave her a weak smirk from her armchair by the fire.
“Show off,” she said, letting her eyes droop. It had been a deep reading and an odious presence to take in. Her limbs felt as if they were made of lead.
Simone shrugged, a smile trying to tug her expression away from its deep-set worry.
“I am sorry I did not listen. I guess I hoped that given our past, he would not want us. I’m afraid if they find out about you . . .” she said, busying herself with the nightly candle ritual, one usually led by Lisette, but its routine calmed her.
Lisette inhaled deeply as the soup made itself.
“I know, and we’ve kept it quite a long time, but Oliver thinks perhaps it’s time to stand up to the factions and I know I could help. I know how hard you and mother both worked to hide my talents, but you know, you can only hide so long,” she said, watching the tension as it bunched up her Aunt’s shoulders.
“Oh, so that’s why you went to the Baron’s Gate then. Oliver Pedesclaux. He still preaching the same stuff?” She asked this as she moved to the stove to help the soup that needed no help, but it kept her from facing Lissette.
“He’s not preaching, he’s just . . . you know, tired of the factions and the fighting. We are ten years away from a new millennium. It would be nice if we could all learn to get along in this one.” she said, accepting the mug of broth from Simone without meeting her eyes, she knew the pain that was to be found there.
Simone snorted.
“It will be a cold day in lanfè when Bastian Croix and Madame Sepion learn to get along,” she declared, easing herself into the chair opposite Lisette. The chair rocked in time with her breath as she allowed the comfort she had created in her home to sink into her bones.
She’d kept her head down for coming up on twelve years now. Her mind sank further, her consciousness meandering down a dark path she seldom allowed.
They had both been young, drunk on the idea of power and the whispered rumors about them.
Solange had been such a starlet. They adored her. A bright beautiful smile and a personality to match. No one knows for certain which Doc she snapped up to father Lisette, but the speculations had run wild for years.
The smell of the soup reached her, beckoning her back to the present. For a moment she considered ignoring it, sinking into the past and the heartache she nursed. Yet, it was not the time for that; it was time to protect her.
Opening her eyes she saw that Gravy had made his appearance and had wrapped his body protectively around her feet. The silence hung like a shroud, and it reminded Simone of the heaviness caused by the creature in her shop.
Critical eyes noted the color returning to her niece’s cheeks.
“Nothing like my pi popilè chicken soup to call back the soul!” she exclaimed, her fake cheer falling flat.
“Can you tell me what you saw in your vizyon, Chéri?”
“Yes, I’m ready- ". Before she could speak a low growl emitted from Gravy, who now stood, his back arched.
“Ase!” Simone shouted, her fear and uncertainty erupted into anger at yet another bombardment by that soulless bastard.
Lissette sniffed but then smiled.
“It’s ok Mutant, it’s a friend.” Standing stiffly she walked to the door, opening it enough to reveal the soulful eyes of a black lab.
“Oliver!” Simone said, shaking her head. Relief was palpable in her tone.
“I never thought I’d be happy to see such an unkempt dog at my door,” Lissette said, her eyes sparkling.
The dog sniffed the air cautiously a moment before letting himself all the way in. Once the door was closed behind him the Labrador began a swift transformation in the blink of an eye. Where the dog once sat now stood a young man clad in dirty jeans and a black T-shirt. His black shaggy hair an indication of his chosen animal form.
“Expecting someone else perhaps?” His dark eyes looked serious. He tried to put on a smile.
“You know very good and well what's been going on as does half the city by now, so you might have passing respect and not give an old lady a heart attack by announcing your presence. I would appreciate it.” Simone sternly said, a touch of the smile reaching her lips.
Oliver laughed as he folded his long form into a rocking chair beside the fire, his eyes only for Lissette.
“Now, if I were to call Mme. Simone ‘old,’ I’d find myself on the wrong side of a frog hex.”
Simone went to rebut him for a moment but instead closed her mouth before speaking, shaking her head with a smile. She knew that he was probably right.
“What is being said down at the gate?” Lisette asked.
The look on Simone’s face quickly turned from one of almost amusement to contemplation.
“Some toadies in Dauphin’s gang were clearing a portal gate for a, particularly stinky shadow puppet by the name of Nigila, who had been sent to secure your name on his roster. He didn’t come back bloody so everyone assumed you had acquiesced.” Oliver answered looking at Simone.
“I knew I smelled a shadow puppet,” Lissette mumbled.
“I would like to think it’s common knowledge, even in a place like the Gate, that Mme. Simone would never join up with the hoodoo hoodlums.” Simone said, a touch of fire in her words.
Oliver held up his hands in defense.
“Oh, I’m not said anybody believed him really well. Anybody who thinks, anyway. But since they sent a shadow puppet to your doorstep, I thought I might check on you and make sure you were both okay.” He said, turning to look at Lissette pointedly.
“Not that I don’t think either of you could handle anything, I just . . . you know, wanted to make sure if you needed help, I was here.” He said this sheepishly with a slight shrug.
Lisette smiled softly.
“So the two of you gonna make it official or we can all be pussyfooting around here for who knows how long?” Simone asked, putting three bowls of soup on the table.
She paused a moment before turning back to the stove to enjoy the cherry blossom pink blush that now graced her niece's face. Her amusement deepened when she noted that Oliver had a sudden fascination with his scuffed-up, high top gym shoes.
“But it’s not really anything that serious amine is it?” Lissette asked, turning to look at Oliver who was still very interested in the scuff marks on his shoes.
Oliver took a deep breath staring for another long moment. He looked up, glancing from one woman to the other. The bright orange firelight made his pale skin glow ever so softly.
“Not that this is actually the time or circumstances I was hoping to have this conversation in. But since we are here, now is a good a time as any.” Turning to Lisette he slipped his hand into hers and hers, twining his long fingers through hers.
“We’ve talked about this more times than I can remember and talked about all the reasons not to, and now you would tell me it’s an even worse time because of all the pressure being put on you by both sides. However, times are uncertain and I can’t imagine anything happening to me without you knowing that I love you. This is the point where you would stop me and tell me I’ve said it to you a million times and I will say it to you a million more. However, I wanted to say it out loud here in your home in the presence of the wise, brilliant, and might I add, lovely Mme. Simone.” He declared, throwing in a dashing smile for emphasis.
The light from the fire flared in acceptance of his declaration. Lissette, who at the start of his speech had looked dubious, was now truly and genuinely touched. Simone nodded her acceptance, pulling her chair out at the head of the table.
“Alright then, soup getting cold,” Simone said, waving the two over to the table.
The windows vibrated from the sheer force of the wind battering up against them. Its ferocity could hardly be explained away by mere hurricane winds, not this time of year. Simone took a deep breath and laid her palms flat on the table. Her lips moved soundlessly, quickly, her words as fast as the wind. No one could expect to copy her incantation. For a full minute, nothing changed. The house shook as the gusty assailant continued its relentless pelting of the unyielding building. Lissette took a deep breath, preparing to add her powers to those of her aunt when the sound around the house went from deafening roar to a mild breeze.
Simone opened her eyes, taking the proffered napkin from Oliver to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on her brow as she concentrated on her shielding magic.
“I can no longer deny that this has gotten serious. Both sides in one day! I cannot be the only holdout left they have to bother,” Simone said, looking at Oliver who always had more information than most.
“Oh, I’m sure there are still some swamp rats out there, but no one of consequence that I can think of,” Oliver said, shaking his head sadly.
“I am disappointed in this knowledge. I would’ve liked to have hoped that those of the old ways would not have fallen into this warmongering nonsense,” Simone said, laying her soup spoon down with the mild clunk.
“The pressure being put on most is intense. I assume they have laid off of you till this point as they are afraid of you, or out of respect for the price you have already paid the Shadow Lords.” He replied with a glance at Lissette.
For a moment, the silence in the kitchen was palpable. Closing her eyes, Simone saw her sister's prone, lifeless form, laying before a portal gate. The thick smell of sage smoke mixed with the copper scent of blood, wormed its way out of her memory, causing her nose to wrinkle.
“It would be nice to think some of the civilities and honor of the old ways are still found in our young rising star. But the only thing on Dauphin’s mind is the Maleficarum. He’s willing to risk the lives of everyone who 'serves' him to bring it back to this side.”
“But no one has ever even seen the Maleficarum. We're not even sure if it exists and he’s willing to risk all of this nonsense just to get his hands on it. Not to mention the only one we do know exists is also called the hammer of the witches. It was a book used to hunt us why would he want it. Lissette said, slamming her hand down on the table in frustration. The sound was louder than what she had intended, causing everyone to in the room to cringe.
“That’s not entirely true,” Simone observed, her voice only slightly audible over the persistent low wind.
