“Moonlight”

“Come now, little one.” I leaned in closer to the squirrel chittering on my windowsill, backlit by the waning sun, a single acorn held tightly in his paws. “Remember how important it is to share?”

He wrapped his tail around the acorn, looking up at me defiantly. I looked down at him, trying to convey my loving disappointment.

Finally, he squeaked, then nuzzled his precious treasure once more before setting it on the aged wood. He kept a paw on it for a moment before turning and hopping through the window to the branch that lay gently against the outside wall of the hovel. Once he had scampered to the trunk of the tree, he looked back at me. I smiled, conveying my gratitude. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. I knew Jacues had pounds of acorns in his hideaway only a few trees over. Rounding the tree, he was lost to view.

I breathed a sigh of relief, then lifted the acorn by the stem and crown, careful not to touch the nut itself. I placed it in a small wooden box, independent of other ingredients, then secured the lid. 

“Well Benedict, that’s one more.” Napping on a pile of blankets on my bookshelf, the old gray cat swished his tail and flicked an ear in response rather than deigning to open an eye. I stepped over to the old dry tome propped up on the small table next to my hearth. “One acorn, willingly offered and untouched by human hands.” I read aloud. “They don’t make it easy, do they?” Benedict’s only response was to shift his body to face the inside of the bookshelf rather than face me. This exposed the stripe of dark green fur that ran along his spine. His sigh was profound and taxing. I ignored him as well, speaking more for my own benefit than his.

“Two ingredients missing.  One snake fang, powdered. . . and one tail from an angry amphibian, intact.” I pressed my lips together. The fang wouldn’t be a problem: I should have some in the attic. If not, I could locate one easily enough. The amphibian, however, was less obvious. There were angry bullfrogs aplenty in the area, but they had no tails. I had met a few salamanders, but they were mostly kind. “I’ll have to ask around.”

The entire concoction needed moonlit water. I had barrels of it, but higher saturation was always a way to increase my control of the effects. I didn’t plan to complete the spell until after the next full moon for this very reason.

I brushed my long brown hair from my face, looking around my home. It was lived in, but tidy - everything in its place. I moved to the hearth and put my kettle on. A cup of tea would be nice. Tomorrow, I could head to town and then into the woods. With any luck, I’d have all I need soon. 

In minutes, the water was steaming. I poured it carefully into my mug, the water steaming and turning color immediately. I found myself smiling as I watched the flavors emerge from the dried plants and join each other in the warm medium. 

I had just replaced the kettle on the bar when the knock on my door arrived. I frowned, wiping my hands on my apron. “Who is it?”

A cough sounded, then a response. “Oh, it’s Alton. Alton Nusker.”

“One moment.”

I looked around, ensuring that nothing too interesting had been left out. Ambrose should have been milling around, but I didn’t see him. I navigated my way to the front door, smoothing my blouse and skirt as I moved. The door protested, but opened when pressed.

“Hello magistrate.” 

Alton Nusker grinned at me, a missing canine in full display. My brow knit, then I looked down, seeing my charm bracelet on my wrist. I had forgotten to remove it, and so was seeing a future version of this man, though he wouldn’t know that. He removed his wide-brimmed black leather hat, revealing his sparse blonde hair, or what was left of it. Raindrops ran from the hat onto the covered stoop. Bowing, he provided an even better view of his naked scalp. Red spots peppered the surface, probably from having his hat on too often. “Ah, Miss Moonlight. You are looking lovely as ever.”

“Thank you.” I deadpanned.

“I hope I am not disturbing your important and interesting endeavors?”

“Not at all. I was just about to have a cup of tea, would you like one?”

His eyes widened, as if the act of kindness came as a shock. “Oh, I would be delighted. How awfully generous of you.”

“It’s no trouble. Please, have a seat.” I stepped back, gesturing at the table  near the door. I retrieved the mug I had poured for myself and set it before him, then prepared a new one. The first would be properly steeped by now and ready to drink. This would encourage him to leave a little sooner. I tried not to notice his eyes roaming over everything. My kitchen. My bookshelf. My hanging spices. My hearth. My body. 

It didn’t bother me too much. Well, it did. He was a pathetic serpent. I wondered briefly if he could be classified as a snake or an amphibian. I shook my head. It wouldn’t be worth the grief to ask for a tooth or find out if he had a tail. Despite his leering, his true goal wasn’t to get close to me exactly, but to acquire my unique services.

I heard a tentative sip and turned to see him pressing his pursed dark red lips to the cup, slurping the tea. 

“Ah, delightful. Thank you. It feels good to warm myself - the weather has been quite foul lately as you know.” He gripped his pale fingers around the mug. They looked pallid and cold.

“Yes, I have.”

“Mmm but I hope your services will. . . remedy the situation soon, yes?” 

I suppressed a sigh. “Yes. As I said, my spells take time. I am working at the proper pace.”

He nodded, the toothy grin splitting his face. “Brilliant! I would hate for the town outskirts to sink into the swamp, as we fear, should the rain continue.”

I turned my back to him strategically so that I could roll my eyes. 

“The new development growing there will house many of the towns’ elite. My own home is included there, you see.” His voice took on a mock-humble tone as he took another slurp. “And not just mine. Dozens of them.”

“Last time you visited, you said there were nine homes. Before that, you said five.”

He laughed, “Oh! Forgive me, Francesca. Pardon, may I call you Francesca?” Before I could respond, he continued, “You see, I said those numbers to put your mind at ease. However, given the urgency of the situation. The inevitability of property damage and lost resources, I feel the need to impress upon you the urgency of the situation I’m in. That is- the town. The situation the town is in, and those building their futures there.”

“Magistrate-”

“Please, call me Alton.” he grinned, revealing browning teeth. I removed my bracelet, tucking it into a pocket. The teeth appeared brighter now, less sickly. The canine had reappeared. The bracelet must have been showing me a long-distant future for him to be in such a state. The skin of his hands grew healthier as well.

“Magistrate, if I were to visit the new development this evening, perhaps to collect artifacts from the earth to target the spell I am working, how many homes would I see exactly?”

The toothy grin faltered. “Eh, is that really necessary? For the spell to work?”

I folded my arms in response. 

“It’s only. . . Well, you know how the local populace would react.”

“React to what?”

“If you were to. . . visit the town. It may not be very pleasant. I’d hate for you to not receive a warm reception. It would be best for me to escort you whenever you’d like to visit.”

“Do you think I’ve never entered the town before, magistrate?”

He set down the tea with a clack. “You. . . you’ve gone in town?”

I let the silence extend, then leaned in closer. “Magistrate, I first visited the town when it was still called a village. I probably met your grandparents there, toddling around and hanging to their mothers’ pursestrings.” I’ll admit his widening stare gave me the urge to laugh, so I continued. “In fact, you may remember receiving a letter from a ‘concerned townsperson’ urging you not to build that new development. That the land was unsafe for habitation.”

Eventually he regained the power of speech. “That was you, then?”

“Oh, yes.”

“How old are you?”

I laughed, “Now now, that’s not a question to ask a lady, now is it?”

He shifted in his seat, a frown dominating his expression for the first time. “We. . . we needed to expand, you see.”

“Not in that direction, you didn’t. My letter urged you to expand to the north rather than the southwest.”

He waved his hand. “The north is too rocky. Constructing strong homes and businesses there would have been very costly. Very difficult.”

“Yes, but now you’d be enjoying tea with a wonderful view from the hill there. Instead, you’ll be walking home in the rain to the swamp basin I warned you about.” I stood, moving some dishes around in my kitchen. “Additionally, the ecosystem would not have been so disrupted. I had to save an entire family of flamingos and relocate them to a safe place. You stole their home, you see.”

He laughed, but stopped when I gave him a look. “My dear, they are merely birds. They can fly where they like.”

“And yet they seem to prefer the environment they thrived in.”

A moment passed while I finished organizing my dishes. That done, I placed my hands on the edge of the sink. “Listen, I want to help. I’ve aided the village dozens of times over the years. It’s just frustrating when the community takes… when it takes…” 

I gasped, grabbing at my throat. My airway was closing off as if I were being choked. I turned around to face the magistrate.

Nuskar was sitting where I’d left him, but his demeanor had changed completely. No longer leaning forward with pleading eyes, he leaned back in his chair, one leg resting over the other. In his hand he held a small object. A series of sticks strung together with threads.

“You like this? She called it a dream catcher. The witch that sold it to me.” His voice had lowered an octave, carrying deadly intent. “She passed by some months ago. I was able to invite her to my home and peruse her wares. She had lots of interesting things. Defensive tokens like this, for example. As for the other items, I regrettably lack the skill to use most of them.” 

He stood and stepped over to me. My vision swam as my airway cut off completely. I cast my eyes around, looking for options. I located a bone to my side and grabbed it. With both hands, I snapped it.

Nothing. The token he held was negating the spell, I fell to my knees, lights exploded in my vision.

“That’s why I need you, Francesca. Since you’ve decided to question me and become consistently disrespectful, I need to make this clear.” He used a finger to lift my face to meet his eyes. “You work for me, your magic will serve my purposes. None other.”

He stood and put the dream catcher in a hidden pocket. My breath returned and I gasped, feeling cold air burn down my throat and inflate my lungs. I gasped, relishing in the feeling. 

As my strength began to return, I attempted to stand. Nuskar stood by the door already, his black hat replaced on his head. “Well, that was unpleasant, but it’s nice to have things as they should be. I was getting tired of acting the fool. Have your spell ready soon. If we lose any infrastructure, I will have to show you more of the late traveling witch’s trinkets.”

He grinned as he turned to leave.

Several hours later, I donned my cloak to head into the woods. The rain had increased considerably, but this was the best weather to find what I was looking for. The warmth of my cottage clung to me, begging me to stay, but I wrenched myself away and trudged into the dense overgrowth, a lantern held aloft for light. 

I forced a few breaths into my throat, feeling the rush of cold air over raw skin. It was painful, but healing. I had spent some time digging through my tomes to find what spell had been cast on me with no luck. Frustrated, I had prepared a cleansing tea which seemed to help ward off the effects for now. 

The forest felt familiar and I hardly needed the lantern. Even so, I cursed when I landed in a puddle which splashed up into my left boot. Before too long, the trees began to give way and I could see the lights of the town in the distance. The warm feeling I usually had upon seeing it did not arrive, replaced by resentment for now. I made my way to the north, following the river until it collected in a large pond. I found my usual stone and sat, placing my back toward the town and pulling the hood down closer to ward off the cold. 

The walk had tired me, so I let a few minutes pass as I enjoyed the song of the toads. A grin tugged at my mouth as I watched those that came within the light of the lantern. They were such innocent creatures, seeking comfort in a dark, cold, and very wet evening. I marveled that their preferred environment was exactly the opposite of mine, and yet I could still find them agreeable.

Deciding I was half frozen, I removed the flute from my cloak, careful not to disturb the herbs and feathers carefully attached to the wooden surface. This spell was simple enough, but the placement of these items was essential to it working properly. Once I was satisfied that the placement was right, I began to play. The tune started very pleasant, a jaunty tune that may have been agreeable in a tavern or at a festival. As it progressed, the feeling changed to something more contemplative. The beat of the rainfall helped keep time, and soon the toads were turning my direction. 

Now, toads don’t care for music as a rule, but the spell on the flute helped connect the intended feelings my song portrayed into something they could instinctually understand. They gathered close, staring up at me with round, emotionless eyes. Eventually, other creatures arrived as well. I saw a trio of racoons a few yards away, peering out from the lowest branches of a tree, eyes alight with the glow of my lantern. I couldn’t see them, but I knew that the few fish in the pond would also be drawing closer. 

Finally, I found what I was seeking as a salamander wandered into the small gathering, moving slowly and ponderously. He was larger than I had expected. Some of the ambient magic from my spellwork had become part of the woods over the years. This had consequences, though they were most often trivial. This creature must have absorbed some, making his body as long as my arm and twice as thick. His tail dragged behind him, providing balance to his long neck and head. I continued to play, putting him and the other host of animals at ease with my presence. 

Confident now, I changed the tune again. Curiosity gave way to nervousness as the tempo increased, lower tones peppered throughout. The more nervous creatures started to stir, their flight instincts starting to overpower them. I let the feeling grow until it was almost unbearable, then I brought it down again, playing a calm tune. The muscles of the creatures around me eased their tension, assuming the danger was gone. 

My shoulders slumped, knowing what would come next. I played a high, fear-inducing note, bathing the area around me in fear and shock. To add to the effect, I stood suddenly, my shadow looming large thanks to the light of the lantern. 

The creatures all scattered. Toads hopping, raccoons chittering. The salamander got a particular fright, as my focus had been on him. His tail detached itself and wriggled in the mud and grass close by, fallen as a fear response to distract the potential predator. I nodded to myself, my goal reached, but I didn’t stop. I continued to play, finishing the story. The danger was met with tunes of joy and defeated, allowing me to leave the pond and its residents in a state of calm rather than fear. 

The tune died on my lips and I felt drained. The cold had permeated my flesh, making my very bones feel like ice. I forced myself up, collected the tail, and began to trudge back to my cottage. A shiver made me pause, though, and I turned toward the town, determined to find a tavern or something similar to warm myself before going home. It was far closer and the cold in my bones was relentless. 

The trees grew even more sparse as I approached the town. Frowning, I looked around at the acreage surrounding the main gate. Trees had been felled all around. Some trunks still lay on their sides among the dozens of stumps. “Now what is this all about?” I asked myself aloud as I hurried on. 

A squeak stopped me in my tracks and I bent close to one trunk. It had likely been felled earlier that day before the storm arrived. The inner wood was still bright and healthy-looking. Using the light of my lantern, I found the source of the sound. 

“Well, hello there.” I said, reaching out and scooping up the tiny mouse. “I’m sorry to grab you like this, but you look even more cold than I am. Why don’t we find somewhere warm to sit?”

The ball of fur shook in my hands, rolling in on herself and hiding her nose and face. I forced down the lump in my throat and began to move more quickly. 

Ten minutes later, I entered a tavern near the town entrance. I shook off the rain as best I could, though the floor inside was already filthy from other patrons. The seats closest to the fire were taken, but I managed to find a small table near enough to warm myself and my new friend. A few patrons looked up as I entered, but returned to their drinks without comment. I recognized a few, though not all would recognize me if I spoke to them. I did smile and nod to the baker a few tables over. She smiled her trademark grin at me, already warming my heart. She looked away faster than she usually would.

A barmaid approached me. Her wrinkled face scrunched up in concern. “My my, you look chilled to the bone. What can I get you, dear?”

“Yes, it is dreadful outside. Could I get a hot coffee? And some stew and bread would be wonderful, whatever is in the pot tonight.”

She nodded. “That I can do. Would you like an ale? Beer?”

“No, thank you. But if you have any cheese, that would be divine.”

She winked and left me alone. I cast my cloak on the back of the seat and checked on my mouse friend. She was still in my hands, shivering like a leaf. “It’s ok, my love. Take some time and you’ll feel all better.” I stroked her back gently.

I took another look at the patrons around me and frowned. Many were unfamiliar to me. This wouldn’t normally give me pause, but the most unfamiliar faces were all wearing the same dark tunic, a gray emblem sewn onto the front. I didn’t recognize the symbol.

In time, my meal and coffee arrived. The woman set it down carefully. “Oh, I see there are two at this table!” she said.

“Yes, I found this little one in the rain so I thought I’d try and warm her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get lost in the kitchens.”

She smirked. “She would just need to compete with the vermin already there.”

I laughed. “Thank you for the food. I wonder, could you tell me where this group is visiting from? The ones in the tunics?”

She frowned for a moment, then softened her features. “Ah, you’re that nice woman that lives in the woods, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Well, that explains it. They’ve been here for a few weeks now. It’s been good for business but I for one look forward to them leaving.” She rested a hand on her hip with practiced ease.

“Who are they?”

“Laborers sent from the capital. They are here to help with the expansion.”

“Expansion? You mean the neighborhood on the southern part of town?”

She sighed, wiping at the sweat on her brow. “That's where it started, sure. Now they have all kinds of projects going.” 

I tried to maintain the good humor in my voice. “Such as?”

“Well, they don’t tell me a lot, you know. But I overhear plenty. Sounds like they are building barracks. The magistrate managed to convince the king to house some of the army here.”

“Army? Why? Are they at war?”

“Heavens no. It’s just something the magistrate is doing to help the economy. At least that’s what he says. Between you and me, his clothes have gotten very fancy but mine stay the same.” She gestured at her old apron as evidence of her claim. 

I nodded. “Where will the barracks be?”

She laughed. “Everywhere, I guess.”

“Everywhere?”

“Yes, you must have noticed they are trimming back the forest? They say they will need every piece of wood out there for what they have planned.”

“What? How many soldiers are coming?”

She scratched her chin, “Can’t say, I’m afraid, but I think the bulk of the king’s army will be here. It will become a whole blooming fort before long. Hundreds and hundreds.”

I paused. “Hundreds.”

“Aye, hundreds.” She glanced back at the bar and I noticed a man glaring at her. “I better get back to it, love. Leave a few coppers on the table when you’re done, eh?” She shuffled away to go about her business.

I sat for a long time, my eyes on the fire and on my food. I tried to reconcile what Alton had told me with what I had learned. The woman had no reason to lie to me. I was just a patron asking for town gossip. The workers around me in the black tunics were proof enough of her claims. Alton Nusker, on the other hand. . . 

I felt my expression harden as I scooted closer to the table and began to eat. After a time, I set the mouse on the table. She had come out of her ball and was sniffing at me curiously. I broke off a piece of bread and set it next to her. She sniffed for a long time before nibbling at it. As soon as the taste registered, she began to devour it. I broke off another piece for her. “What do you think, little one?” I asked softly. She didn’t respond. 

My mood blackened with every minute as I contemplated the situation. Clearly, I had been misled and the spell I had been working on was not for what he had told me. How had he learned so much about magic spells? Must have been that traveling witch. 

I sat long enough for my cloak to stop dripping and the fire to burn low. The other patrons left, retiring in the wee hours of the morning. I left when I noticed the barmaid and bartender glaring at me, dropping an extra copper on the table as an apology. 

Seeing the rain still in force, I ensconced my mouse friend under my cloak, letting her roam in a roomy pocket. I was drenched again in seconds as I made my way not toward my home, but toward the south end of town. 

I arrived not long after to find that at least part of what the magistrate had told me was true: the newly erected buildings were sinking into the soft ground. One was a particular case, having lost much of its appeal with the odd angle. Taking them in, I could see that all of the structures were large and… opulent. I don’t say well-made as I hadn’t observed the process, but they were big and expensive-looking.

Of the dozen or so structures, only one had any lights shining in the windows. I started walking that way as I felt around at my belt, locating a tightly wrapped bundle of greenery about the size of my small finger. Any sight or sound of my approach was lost in the cacophony of the storm until I stepped carefully on the porch. Once under the awning, I stripped my cloak and set it on a chair. While I didn’t care about getting the floors wet, the drips would likely give me away.

Once I was confident nobody had heard me step onto the wood planks, I put the plant bundle into my mouth and began to chew. The taste wasn’t pleasant, reminding me of my compost pile, but the mint leaf I had added made it palatable this time around.

Swallowing, I placed my hand against the wood of the door and leaned forward. My body passed through the door as if it weren’t there. I did feel it. It reminded me of swimming, but only for a moment. I emerged on the other side of the door and moved to the shadows.

I stood in a large foyer. The space was vacant. Empty and sterile of any art or personality. This was definitely the right place. 

The light had shined through a second story window, so I continued up the stairs, listening often for others. I moved down a hallway and stopped outside the door with light shining beneath. I pressed my ear to the door.

Snores sounded on the other side. Reaching up, I plucked a pin from my hair. Holding my breath, I turned the handle and pushed. 

Alton Nusker sat in a chair with his head on a desk. He snored as drool eeked onto the documents he had been working with. Satisfied, I stepped in and closed the distance in a flash. His eyes opened lazily at first, then wide as the pin pierced the back of his hand. 

He stood, knocking over his chair, and scrambled away from me. He searched his pockets, likely seeking another magical trinket. He seemed to find one, but it fell from his hands as he took it out. He brought the hand up to look at it, but the fingers were bending slowly. He frowned, then stumbled. Finally, he fell to the ground in a heap.

I left him there and walked though the house to ensure nobody else was here. I saw evidence of others having visited recently, but there want another soul to be seen. Satisfied, I returned to the study and heaved the ugly pig man into his chair.

“You’re heavier than you look.”

He stared back at me, his eyes wide.

“Sandorian purple nightshade. That’s the poison I gave you. You can’t move but you can hear me just fine.” I stared down at him for a time, letting him wonder what I was going to do. “I learned some terrible things today, Mr. Nusker.” I held up my fingers. “I learned that you are every bit the sleazy pig I thought you to be. A man willing to use witchcraft to subjugate me. Do you know the penalty for using another witch’s charms?

I waited as if wanting a response, then continued. “I didn’t appreciate that. Second, I learned that there are some damn big salamanders at the pond between my home and the town. You wouldn’t believe it. Third, I learned that you lied to me.”

My voice lowered and I let any light heartedness melt away. “Not only are you building this stupid unnecessary expansion, clearly benefiting only the elite, but you’re actually preparing land for an army fort of all things.”

I brought my face inches from his, “You are cutting down my sacred forest to provide a place for the king to house his murder machine. Now, I’m not naive enough to think that a kingdom doesn’t need an army, but there are better locations. Ones that wouldn’t displace dozens of species, cripple the town's economy, and cast a blight upon the most beautiful part of this continent.”

I paced for a few minutes. “I wonder if you planned to tell me? Likely not. My guess is you meant to kill me once the spell was complete.” His lip had started to quiver, but his body remained slumped in the chair. “Fine. You know? A deal is a deal, Alton. I was contracted to cast the spell and I will do just that. I only need one more ingredient. I was hoping you could provide it. Once you do, I will leave and finish it.”

I stepped to his desk and rummaged around before finding what I was looking for. “Could I borrow your letter opener? Thank you.”

I stepped over and leaned forward, pulling his head back and making his mouth hang open. A soft whine escaped from his throat, but he otherwise couldn’t react. “Gods above, your breath is revolting.” Holding his head back, I placed the letter opener against his canine and pressed. The whine increased in pitch as I pushed back and forth. An awful grinding sound made me grimace as the metal hit bone. It didn’t take long before I dropped the bloody implement and made the final pull with my fingers, wrenching the tooth free.

The whine became a whimper as I wrapped it in a nearby neckerchief and tucked it away.

“Thank you. Now, before I go finish my spell, I should mention, this particular spell is very temperamental. It’s possible that the spell may work in the opposite way if I’m not careful and precise.” I shrugged. “I’ll do my best, but I recommend leaving the area just in case things go awry and all of these homes start to sink. Hopefully you can move in time.” I stepped to the door, ignoring his renewed whimpers. “In case you’re curious, do you know that we witches leave a part of ourselves in our charms? That’s right. I can feel the other one here - the one you killed. I certainly would not want to be entombed here with her lost charms. That does not sound like an enjoyable afterlife.”