Writer of Fantasy. Wielder of Red Pens.

Tag: marble witch

Life Seeds

This week continues the Marble Witch story.

Hayes could barely lift his head, and his hands were scorched from a combination of unfamiliar magics and dragon flame that left him no doubt he’d never pick a lock for fun again, let alone for a job.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Kea. His daughter, his second chance, now a withered husk of life and Fae magic spent. A half-melted hand he didn’t recognize reached for her, and he moaned in a pained roar that left his throat raw as he gathered the shell of the girl into his arms.

His hands were so clumsy, he feared he’d shatter what was left of her into the dust and rotted apple blossoms the Marble Witch had used to create his child. Days before felt like ages, and a drop fell onto her shriveled, frozen face.

“That’s it, child.” The wounded dragon in the corner wheezed the words. “She needs your pain.”

“Allies don’t enjoy each other’s misery,” Geo snapped at the woman. “Can’t you see he’s grieving?”

“Get him one of those disks.” Celia coughed, then pointed. “Our alliance doesn’t have to be temporary. He needs training. More than you can give him, frog.”

Geo leapt over the crumpled remains of the witch and pointed a finger at the dragon. “I’m no longer a frog.”

“And yet I just watched you hop. Yes, one of those. Actually—” she eyed the store of disks— “maybe all of them.”

“What are these, potting disks? What’d you do with these?”

“Exactly so.” Celia leaned forward and clutched her ribcage, ignoring Geo’s second question. She wobbled slowly to her feet, panting. “Put them in the tub there. Then the girl. And then it must be watered with all the pain he’s held inside.”

She staggered across the room, leaving smeared bloody handprints on the counter to mark her trail.

“Hayes,” Celia said, tilting his chin up with a forceful hand to peer into his eyes. It broke his stare from the horror of death by physically planting herself in his view. “You’ve heard of Jack and the Beanstalk.”

He clutched Kea’s body more tightly. “Magic beans. Of course.”

“Kea is a type of magic seed right now. If we act fast enough. If you can use your pain and channel it. Your tears must water the potting disks to make the ground grow enough to nourish her back to life.”

“Why should I believe you? Our alliance was one of convenience. I tricked you into hiring me.” He gritted his teeth and jerked his chin away, but couldn’t block her golden eyes. How had this woman ever passed as human?

Celia gestured at the Marble Witch’s body. “A life for a life, Hayes. I owe you the balance. And you owe me service after your deceit. I demand you heal and train. You owe me that.”

“That’s all of them,” Geo said quietly from behind her. “It’s time to decide.”

***

This week’s prompt was inspired by nother Mike (maybe Hayes can be a nickname?): Henry planted the free seeds that came in the mail before he realized they were supernatural seeds…

Mine went to AC Young. Check out what he did with it over at MOTE!

Temporary Magic

“Hayes,” the man greeted him, and set down his book. He peered over the edge of the counter with wide eyes. “Who’s this?”

“Jimmy, this is Kea, my – my daughter.” He stumbled over the word, and felt the sharp sting of a kick on his ankle.

Jimmy leaned back and gave him a look filled with regret. “I am sorry, but I can’t let her in the building. It’s not bring your daughter to work day and nobody told me, right?”

“It’s all right,” Kea said in a soft, clear voice. She gave the security guard a winning smile. “I can just stay here with you while Dad runs in and grabs what he needs.”

“That’d be lovely,” he agreed, turning to face her.

Just in time to get a handful of golden glitter blown into his face. She smacked her palms together, scattering glowing dust mites onto the floor where they faded against the uneven marble floor.

“Thank you for the guest all-access badge, Jimmy,” Kea said coolly.

He blinked and dug into a drawer filled with a row of badges in a wide rainbow of colors. “Of course.”

Hayes waited until they entered the elevator. “What was that?”

Geo poked his head out from underneath his suit lapel, where he’d hidden in Haye’s shirt pocket. “Jimmy’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”

Kea nodded agreement with the frog. “It’s leprechauns all the way down.”

He threw out a hand and rolled his eyes.

She laughed at his impatient confusion. “Temporary magic.”

The ancient elevator dinged onto his usual floor, for once cooperating with something resembling more speed than a snail on its reluctant way to a medieval battle. He suspected Kea’s silent assistance.

“You’ll be able to do that soon,” she added just as he exited the creaking box of doom.

He caught his stumble against the table, spilling Geo unceremoniously into a flowerpot, as she flounced down the hall toward his office.

***

I’m late! Just a quick snippet today (and apparently switching POV again, whoops – still drinking coffee). Becky inspired this piece with leprechauns all the way down, while nother Mike got my prompt this week, over at MOTE: “You don’t want to know what happens next.”

It’s been rather hectic here, for a number of reasons, but the goal is still to make LibertyCon. Who’s with me?

An administrative note: On the off chance someone reads this and wants to sign up for the newsletter — hahaha, no one signs up for the newsletter, I did it as part of a contract requirement and haven’t sent one in two years — for the time being, you will no longer automatically receive the free download of the Paladin University newspaper interview with June.

Why? Turns out, no one had downloaded it for two years. Plus, generating content is more important than getting all this set up properly as a business — I’m writing again, and Paladin’s Legacy is back in progress— especially since this is a side gig I do mostly for fun. It was enough of a pain to set it up that I’m not going to remove the option on the website, either, because eventually I will need it again and no. I am not going through that again.

The point being, if you sign up for the newsletter and want a copy of the (very) short story, just email me.

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