Chapter Seven
Willow clutched at Hunter's arm, biting her lips with excitement. It had taken a few days, but they were finally in sight of the Owl House. It was just as Luz had described it — the archetypal mage's tower loomed behind the large stone house with its white-stucco walls and blue tile roof, the huge stained-glass window above the door resembling the eye of a massive beast. Thick woods surrounded the house on three sides, leaving only a wide corridor that meandered back to town.
In a blur, Luz came rushing out the front door, followed more sedately by Eda who carried her cat, King, and her owl, Owlbert, on each shoulder. Willow waved with joy, unconcerned with hiding her emotions as Hunter was with just a tip of his hat. She released her grip on Hunter and leapt from the wagon, landing lightly before racing across the grass to meet her dear friend halfway and wrap her in a tight embrace.
"I can't believe you're here!" Luz shouted.
"Me either!" Willow squealed.
Hunter chuckled at the display as he descended from the wagon and began unhitching the horses, Eda moving to join him. "Need a hand?" she asked.
"I've got it," he said. As part of his noble upbringing, Hunter had been taught to respect the tradition of guest-host hospitality — a host would provide food, shelter, and protection as if the guest were a member of their own family; in return, the guest would act civilly and offer no trouble to their host.
"Too late," Eda snarked, snapping her fingers and directing the horses to a pen. The tack and saddles floated up and into a shed for such things that locked itself. "There we go," she said smugly. "You're welcome."
Hunter rolled his eyes and shed his coat. He was on vacation and he refused to give the wrong impression to people if he wasn't on business for the Corps. "And how's it been around here?" he asked, a bit quieter than before.
"Chaotic, just how I like it," Eda said, both smugly and fondly, looking at her apprentice. King hissed at Hunter before hopping off Eda's shoulder and rubbing against Willow's boots.
"The rat never liked me," Hunter groused.
"Maybe because you keep calling him something he eats," Luz quipped as she and Willow approached. "It's like calling a wolf a sheep or a fox a chicken." She winced. "Actually, everyone hates that one, so … a rabbit. Yeah, that works!"
Willow chuckled and took Hunter's hand, her wings spreading from beneath her cloak and wrapping him in an embrace.
"Blegh," Eda mocked. "Gross, lovey-dovey biz. I get enough of that from this one," she gestured at Luz, "and her new girlfriend. I'll be inside making potions if you need me." King flicked his tail at them and followed Eda back into the Owl House.
"So …" Luz said with a wide grin. "Tell me the story!"
"I wrote it to you," Willow pointed out.
"Yeah, but that doesn't have the same punch, you know?" Luz rebutted. "C'mon! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"
Willow smiled wickedly. "You heard her, Dear," she said, her voice lower and smoldering with feminine appeal. "You tell it better anyway."
Hunter leveled his unimpressed gaze at her, just to show that he could and was not doing this because she said so, and sighed in resignation. "Okay," he stepped out of Willow's wings and shook his limbs. "Here we go …"
The port town of Larissa was a perfect example of duality.
On one hand, it was the site where the Sunder river, the great river that bisected the nation of Rasmos from the Borean Mountains to the eastern coast, poured into the sea. This made it a prime location for trade of all kinds, with farmers and merchants boating, ferrying, or rafting their crops or goods downriver or simply following its path down the land to the city where it could be sent all up and down the coast or to other countries. The reverse was also true, with goods coming into the port from far-off lands to furnish Rasmos.
But while the town was prosperous, it was also infamous as a refuge for criminals fleeing or entering the city, a den for smugglers and crooks plying their trades, an entry point for illegal goods brought in with the flow of commerce, and so much more. It was bright and lively during the day … but the night brought the less savory facets of such a place. A side effect of illegal or less-than-legal goods flowing through the port town was that it made simply locating and purchasing such goods easier.
One such purveyor was simply known as Grant, a reedy man with large glasses and a scribe's smock and gloves. He owned and operated a small bookstore, but in the shadows he "collected" rare books gathering dust that were "liberated" from nobles and other too-rich fat cats and sold them off to high bidders. Particularly books on magic, demons, and the otherwise supernatural.
Grant was jotting down some figures from his side business in the back room when the bell above the door to his shop jingled. He looked up in shock at the usually delightful sound. He'd locked and triple-bolted his front door, just as he did every night at closing. He placed his writing quill down and smoothly took out the large knife he kept behind his desk.
"Who's there?" he called. "Don't bother hiding."
Out of the shadows and into the light of his candle strode a pair of lithe figures, a handsome young man and a lovely young woman. They resembled each other quite strongly, and one would be correct in assuming they were twins. Both had fine features, fair skin, and hair dyed dark, the man's cut short and the woman's a waist-length plait. They were dressed in regal purple clothes, very obviously expensive. Identical golden brown eyes watched him with the languid amusement of a predator, and a beauty mark sat mirrored beneath one of their eyes.
A single emerald streak flowed through their hair.
"Grant, isn't it?" the boy asked, eyes flashing.
"We hear tell that you have a certain book that our lord has been searching for," the girl picked up.
"Perhaps," Grant said, removing his glasses. "I come across many varied and valuable works."
The young lady strutted forward, eyes lidded as she leaned over his podium. Grant, a man well into his years, couldn't help but lean closer as well. "Well, then I do hope you can help. I've heard that it's called … Blood and Sulphur: A Treatise on the Lords of Night?"
Grant lurched backward, nearly toppling from his stool. "What would you want with such information?!" he squeaked.
"Academic curiosity," the lady said, her sultry, carefree smile unchanged. "And because our father asked us to acquire it." Father, not lord. Unless this man were one and the same.
"It doesn't matter," he said shakily, returning his elasses. "That particular volume is exceedingly rare, and I have no copies in stock."
"Weird," the young man said, "then how'd I find one?" He strutted into the light of Grant's candle, holding a leatherbound book with silver filigree up in one hand. The title was clearly displayed in green ink.
"T-That was locked up!" Grant stammered. "How did you get it?"
"Locks have never really been a problem," the man said with a snap of his fingers, a gesture that trailed cyan sparks … and his nails looked darker for a brief moment, as if they'd been burned.
"Now, I believe a certain lord from the north was searching for this book that was stolen," the young lady said, a delicate finger placed along her jaw in thought. She gasped. "And whoever had taken it would be executed!" She placed her hand on her chest and the back of the other against her forehead. "Oh, how horrible!" Then she dropped the melodrama and fixed the bookkeeper with a sinister smile. "But if you keep your lips closed, we will too." The young man removed a pouch from his belt that jingled with coin. "We'll even pay you for it."
She extended a hand. "Deal?"
Grant's eyes flicked to the book in the young man's grip. He'd told the truth when he said it was rare, and that made it expensive to part with. But the lady was right, in that said northern lord had issued the edict that it was to be retrieved with extreme prejudice. And the money these twins offered was real, unlike any future offers.
"Deal," he said, reaching to take the shake. Just as the young lady's hand touched his, blue flames wrapped her hand and she gripped his hand like a vise. Grant yelped in shock as heat seemed to pour into his flesh and the bones of his forearm ached as if burned. He jerked his hand away and tore at his sleeve to find a string of eldritch symbols glowing like hot iron on the skin of his arm, before they faded away.
"The deal is struck," the lady said. The man tossed the coin purse onto Grant's desk. "Have a restful night, good sir." With that, they turned on their heels in perfect unison and left, the chime of the door's bell the only indicator that they had left.
Grant ran to the door and tried to lock the deadbolts … but they were already in place. What …? Who were those two?!
Down the street, said twins were strolling along as if they hadn't just taken a book of dangerous supernatural lore from a helpless crook. The young man snapped his fingers and a bat fluttered down from a rafter. He tied a small scroll to its leg and whispered in its ear before tossing it into the air to fly north.
"Oh, Edric," the young lady said, "you and your pets."
"I have my animals, you have your Bargains, Emira," Edric replied.
"Yeah, mom's little 'gifts'," Emira groused. She looked up at the faint stars. "We should be able to get back to the manor late tomorrow."
"Good," Edric said. "Messing with that book thief or whatever was fun, but Mittens is so much more animated."
"Not since she finally got together with her little witch apprentice," Emira giggled. "She's mellowed out a lot. Plus there's the demon girl that saved your life."
"Did we ever thank her for that?" Edric asked.
"Not sure," Emira said with a shrug. "Maybe we'll meet her again to make it happen."
Willow was brushing her hair as she prepared for the night when she heard a commotion outside the window of her room in the Owl House. She set her brush down and crossed over to push the stained glass open, and her eyes widened with surprise. Hunter was working out behind the house by lantern light, his heels balanced against a tree trunk as he performed pushups in a handstand.
Willow purred at the sight of her beau's defined muscles drenched in sweat, absently curling a lock of hair around her finger. In the time they'd been traveling together, she'd caught Hunter during his frequent exercise only a handful of times. The first had been awkward for them both with red faces and lots of stammering; after that, she was pretty sure he timed his regimen for when she was busy with something else.
"Damn, he is goodlooking," Luz said from right beside her.
Willow yelped and looked outside to find Hunter falling to his feet, only to look up at her window and wink. Willow's cheeks bloomed with red and she swung the window shut in mortification. "Luz! Why would you scare me like that?"
"Hey, I tried knocking," Luz laughed. "But you didn't respond. I opened the door a little to see what was happening and found you, y'know-" she hooked a thumb toward the window, "-enjoying the sights."
Willow huffed a laugh and her blush faded from red embarrassment to pink infatuation. "It was a nice view, wasn't it?" she asked. Luz laughed before both of their attention was drawn to the door opening wider to reveal King.
"You girls are so weird," the cat drawled, his mouth not moving.
"You can talk?!" Willow asked in shock.
"Yeah, I'm a foremost familiar," King said as if it were obvious, padding into the room to sit and begin grooming himself. "Though, really I'm projecting my thoughts at you."
"Why haven't you spoken before?" Willow asked.
"Wasn't sure if you and Luz would stay friends when you first met," he admitted. "And we haven't seen each other since."
"What about earlier?" Willow asked.
"I don't like the other guy," King sniffed. "He's gonna have to earn the right to hear my voice."
"Alright, enough of that, Mister," Luz said, scooping the cat up. "Why don't I get you some snacks while we prep the washroom? My fire magic has gotten good enough to heat the water, and I think Hunter's gonna need a scrub."
"Snacks!" King shouted as he leapt from Luz's arms and ran out the door, presumably to the kitchen.
"Tell Hunter I'll have the washtub ready in ten minutes," Luz said as she closed the door. Then she opened it back up and gave Willow a mock-severe look. "And don't let me catch you two up to any funny business."
"As you wish, O wise hostess," Willow giggled. As Luz left with a wave, Willow crossed back to the window and opened it to continue watching. Hunter was punching the tree trunk now, his hands wrapped in rags as he methodically hammered away. He finished up with a spinning kick that took a bite from the wood before huffing a tired breath and leaning back against it.
"Luz says the washroom will be ready in ten minutes!" Willow called. "And they have hot water!"
"Hot water?!" Hunter asked in shock, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel. "We should have visited sooner!"
Willow giggled and waved her fingers before closing the window back. She made to leave the room and find Eda. With one of her letters to Luz, she'd sent a separate missif to the Owl Lady asking about something to … manage her condition. While she was here, maybe they could work on that.
As the sun was setting, a young farmer and his wife were finishing up the homestead chores. The wife was milking the last of the cows while the husband was portioning hay for them to feed on for the night.
"Dear, we should really hurry," the wife said. "The sun is setting."
"Yes, I know," he replied, his tone heavy. "I'm finished here, so let's get Bessy in her pen and we can-" He was interrupted by the lowing of frightened cattle. "What on Earth?" he asked.
"Dear, let's get inside," the wife said hurriedly. "Something's wrong."
"Hurry and lock up," the husband said, kissing his wife's forehead. "I'll be right back." He jogged for the barn door, picking up a scythe and a lit lantern as he went. Before he crossed the threshold, he paused and scooped up the rooster that protected their hens to tuck under his other arm.
As he prepared for what may come, the calls of the cattle had gotten louder, more fearful. Terrified.
The wife whimpered and did as her husband had said, her hands trembling. She closed the wide barn doors and secured them, then moved to a smaller back door to secure it. As she closed the padlock and pocketed the key, a hand clasped her mouth from behind. She shrieked in fear, the sound muffled, but then she registered her husband's scent, like damp earth and hay.
"You were right," he whispered in her ear. "We need to go now, quietly. We'll head for town. Can't even stop for supplies. Quickly."
The couple ran as quietly as they could, up the path that would lead to the main road into Gravesfield. As they did, the cattle's cries of fear slowly died down. And the wife feared that such a turn of phrase was very literal. She also realized that her husband's lantern was snuffed.
They were almost off their land when a wailing hiss sliced through the air. "Run!" the husband shouted in panic. They did, pumping their legs as fast as they could. As they ran, their footsteps were drowned out by the thumping crash of massive feet. And the sounds were getting louder!
The wife was weeping as the sounds drew nearer, whatever chasing them getting too close. It seemed it was right on top of them when her husband screwed his eyes shut and tossed the rooster he'd still been carrying behind them, the bird cawing with indignation and apparently darting in the opposite direction. The wailing hiss cried out again, but the crashing footsteps stopped and then drew away to chase the rooster.
As they ran, the husband and wife looked back to see a massive shadow chasing the rooster, indistinct and vile in the light of a halfmoon. Then they kept running with everything they had. If they could cross the townline into Gravesfield, the protections would keep the beast out.
And then they could plead for the Owl Lady's aid against this monstrosity.
The next morning, Luz cheerfully prepared a breakfast feast of eggs, bacon, toasted bread, fruits and juices, and milk that she kept chilled with a bit of ice magic. Hunter came in from outside, shirtless, coated in light sweat and brushing his face with a towel.
"Another workout?" Luz asked. "Is that normal," she grinned suggestively, "or did you up the pace since meeting Willow?"
"I've worked out almost every day since I was a kid," Hunter replied, his cheeks red now from embarrassment as much as the activity. "Willow's presence doesn't change that."
"Oh, Hunter, you'll break a girl's heart," Willow said from behind him.
Hunter flinched and spun around. "Ah, that isn't to say that- W-Well, it doesn't hurt that-" He huffed and ran the towel through his hair. "I'm just gonna stop."
Willow giggled and kissed Hunter's cheek, the contact brief and warm. As she pulled back, Hunter felt the faint tension in her frame, even from afar. She still had to hold herself back from feeding upon him, even from such brief, chaste actions.
"I'm going to wash up and get dressed," he said, eyes focused on Willow's eyes instead of the low neckline of her nightgown.
"Okay," Willow replied, brushing a lock of hair from her face behind her ear. Hunter moved around her, resolutely refusing to look backward as he climbed the stairs. Willow followed his progress with her gaze and sighed at the sight of his back muscles shifting as he walked.
"Girl, you got it bad," Luz jeered as she put more eggs on the table.
"No use denying it, I guess," Willow said, taking a seat and helping herself. "You didn't have to do all of this," she said.
"Oh, it's fine," Luz deflected with a flick of her wrist. "I mean, we've got plenty of people. And the leftovers can be lunch, too!"
Willow had barely sat to eat when Eda came thumping down the steps in her plum nightshirt, stitched skirt, and soft slippers. She gave a mighty yawn and plopped into a chair to begin serving herself. She glanced blearily at Willow before her gaze shamelessly lowered to her bosom and she smirked. "So that's why ole Hunty was so red earlier," she cackled.
Willow blushed and crossed her arms over her chest, which only made Eda laugh harder.
"Eda, leave her alone," Luz scolded. "It's not her fault she gets hot in her sleep."
"Whatever, kid," Eda deflected before stuffing her face with strips of bacon. She dug around in a pocket and placed a scrap of parchment on the table. As Willow took a bite of her eggs, she glanced at it to find Eda's untidy scrawl reading, No luck in potions. Poisons would kill before they worked. Still thinking.
Willow sighed and took the note to tuck into her dress where Hunter wouldn't see. And with good timing as he finally joined them in leather pants and a loose, white shirt with the laces undone to reveal some of his defined chest. Willow blushed at the sight before averting her gaze with a small smile. He knew what he was doing, and a quick glance at his small smirk confirmed it.
"You're not funny," Willow said dryly.
"If you say so," he drolled before spreading some eggs on a piece of toasted bread and folding it into a sandwich. At his heels, King wandered in and yowled for food of his own, and Luz rolled her eyes before putting down a bowl of undercooked bacon and overcooked eggs for him, which he dove into with zeal.
Breakfast was just wrapping up, Luz and Eda placing the respectable amount of leftovers in ceramic pots to put in the Owl House's icebox — magic was so convenient at times! — when a thumping knock echoed through the house.
Eda answered the door to find Morton there and Eda sighed. "What is it this time, Bud?" she asked.
"Hi, Eda," he said with a faint wince. "We had some farmers from outside town come running in late last night talking about a monster eating their cattle. They barely escaped by throwing a rooster at it and running for their lives."
"You talked with them about it?" she asked, mostly rhetorically as Morton knew the drill by now. Few people were comfortable talking to an infamous witch, even one who had time and again saved them from looming monsters and even several demons. So Morton acted as a middle man who was less scared of Eda than regretful about disturbing her.
"I did," he confirmed. "And I think it's a …" He swallowed and glanced around nervously, even knowing that Hooty protected the grounds from practically anything. "… I think it's a cockatrice," he whispered.
"A what?!" Hunter shouted from behind them, eyes wide with shock and fury. As he glanced between Eda and Morton, Willow and Luz came rushing in, the prior taking Hunter's arm in her grip to soothe him and Luz standing beside her mentor.
"What is it?" Luz asked.
Before Eda could answer, Hunter stomped between them, shoving past Morton and toward the wagon. "This is why I don't take time off," he called back bitterly. "It's always something!"
Chapter lucky number seven is here! A sweet, fluffy piece with a dash of suspense before a battle next time. Also, the most recent episode "Any Sport in a Storm" was PHENOMENAL!
*For those of you who noticed: Yes, the first part of this chapter was a faint remix of the epilogue to "Preying Upon Predators."
*In case it wasn't clear before, Ed, Em, and Amity are indeed children of both Odalia and Alador. Their heritage gives them powers that are different from human-mage magic. Edric can open any lock (based upon the scroll that opened the library in canon), Emira can make binding deals (think Bill Cipher who inspired the flaming handshake), and Amity ... well, her power will be explained later. But you had a glimpse of it in an earlier chapter.
*A foremost familiar is one with more power than the rest. It's usually a witch's first familiar, but King pouted until Eda had pity on him and promoted him.
As always, I hope this was fun to read. Leave a review if you liked it! And may your inspirations flow freely.