Diplodoc’s Hideout
West VirginiaMarie looked in shock as the sorceress and her doppelgangers hovered above the factory. Three of them departed, flying down through the hole in ceiling while three more stood in her way.
Dammit! Marie thought, landing on the roof and readying herself for another attack. She could combat the sorceress’s magic all day, but that wouldn’t stop her from wreaking havoc when possible. Even if she managed to take out these duplicates, there’s no telling what other tricks she had up her sleeve. Marie knew that she needed to end this, but how?
“At a loss?” the Silver Sorceress taunted, her words echoing between the three copies. They raised their arms and, with a flash of white, sent an array of mystical bolts at Marie. They crackled with energy, but dissipated as they neared. The amulet around Marie’s neck shook violently, it didn’t have much juice left. Marie would have to take the sorceress down now or risk taking some serious damage.
Marie held out an arm, a small bit of rubble raising from the ruined ceiling and launching itself at the sorceress and her copies. With a similar motion, they halted the debris and sent it back at Marie, who dodged at just the right time. The three sorceresses began to spin around one another, chanting and conjuring. At their center was a great, wispy sphere, growing in size with each pass. They meant to destroy Marie’s protections!
Marie acted without thinking. She grabbed her broom in both hands and began tapping the hilt upon the roof while whistling a steady note. To an onlooker, she might appear insane, but there was a method to her madness. As she went about her ecstatic ritual, the wind picked up and the sky clouded over. Marie lifted the bottom of her mask long enough to bite her thumb and draw blood. She offered up her crimson essence to the winds, who graciously accepted and came to her aid. The outside was swallowed in chaos. Marie’s winds threatened to level Diplodoc’s base, and the sorceress’s mystical cyclone was still growing.
With increased force, Marie spun the winds around the sorceress and her clones in an attempt to lessen their focus, but they were determined to perform this spell. They grabbed each other’s arms and spun about, but their chanting went uninterrupted. A few moments later, they broke ranks and released their own mystical storm, a violently whirring vortex of energy that would overtake Marie if she didn’t act quickly. It fought against her wind and barreled towards her unabated.
Is there nothing else I can do?Something came over Marie then, something she had never felt before. Her vision blurred, her consciousness shifted, and she fell into a trance-like state. She heard a voice in the depths of her mind. It sounded like her own voice, but it was shadowed by another, a familiar voice that she could not place.
Fight! it urged her, and with that Marie’s body responded, not entirely under her control. She held out an arm and with a power she had never before experienced, ripped through the sorceress’s spell.
Just then, her amulet shattered, its pieces lost to the great winds. The Silver Sorceress smiled, despite having her spell broken. The three of them sent forth a barrage of mystical bolts, but to their surprise, none of them connected. Instead, Marie issued a forlorn stare that cut through the sorceress’s magic. Now was her chance to destroy these clones! Marie quickly took a pinch of witches salt from her cloak and released it into the wind. It flashed and sparked, attacking the sorceress’s doubles. Their forms seemed to burn away and before long, all three of the clones had been destroyed. Marie hopped on her broom, her actions still not entirely her own, and descended upon the rest of the heroes.
Inside the base, the real Silver Sorceress, along with two other clones, stood near the ceiling entrance, ready to stop Marie, but she was determined. With an odd sort of strength, she charged through the clones, knocking them out of her way.
“It’s useless!” The Silver Sorceress shouted. “You’re defenseless without that amulet of yours!” She charged forward, her hands glowing with power, but Marie was quicker. With an outstretched arm, Marie forced her will upon the sorceress, focusing all of her malice into a single motion. The sorceress stopped, her own magical defenses suddenly breaking with a visible and audible shatter. With a second wave of her hand, Marie took hold of the sorceress’s body.
“No,” she struggled. “I-I can’t lose here, you don’t know what he’ll do!” She was powerless now, unable to escape Marie’s grasp.
Marie ignored the Silver Sorceress’s pleas, and with a strange coldness, sent her flying into an adjacent wall, the force of the impact knocking her out. The other clones faded with their mistress’s consciousness. Marie shook her head, waving away whatever force had taken over during her battle. She felt light headed and stumbled away from the others, momentarily collapsing in a far corner of the factory.
The Red Devil
Lost Haven“Will you stop your worrying!” Puck called to Joseph, who paced up and down the hallway leading to his office. The large red door flew open in response to Puck’s voice. “Get in here,” he commanded. Joseph drudged through his heavy emotions and did as told, taking a seat at Puck’s desk. The room was exceptionally messy this evening, scrolls and parchments littering all corners of the candlelit room. Puck’s own worries had cluttered his office, he didn’t have time to deal with the sulking of his employees.
“Have I not assured you that she will be safe?” Puck’s voice was both nurturing and harsh.
“I’ve just got a bad feeling about this. She’s never gone up against something like this, and your unwavering confidence in her abilities has no doubt given her a big head.” Joseph responded with an equally harsh and questioning tone. He had a closer relationship to Puck than most, given him the ability to speak to him with more contempt than respect. “She needs help, I know it.”
Joseph’s feelings toward Marie were only a secret to him. Puck was well aware of them, as was Joseph’s familiar, Holt. In fact, all the regulars at The Red Devil knew that they had chemistry, but he refused to admit anything.
Puck rolled his eyes as the boy spoke, knowing that the spark of young love had also kindled the fires of worry. “Do you doubt Marie’s abilities?” he mocked Joseph.
“Of course not, but neither do I hold to the false notions that she can face anything thrown at her. It’s just not realistic. I mean, she’s only been practicing for like 16 years, and she’s only been White Witch for one and a half. I’ve got 300 years of experience and you don’t see me running about Lost Haven, scantily clad and trying to save the day.”
“Ah yes,” Puck replied, “the noble Joseph Mathers, son of Increase Mather and brother of Cotton Mather, who rejected the word of God as a young boy, cried to the Devil in the night, and became a member of his infernal flock.”
Joseph turned away, ashamed of the mention of his past family. He was lost to history, much to his dismay. Born to Increase Mather, famous witch-hunter of the 17th century, he refused to go into the family business of preaching and witch-hunting. He took an interest in witchcraft, just as his brother had, but instead of combatting it, he wished to learn it. Shortly after making his deal with the Devil, gaining great knowledge and power in return, he too was hunted by Increase, who chased him all the way to the New World, where he met with the dastardly Robin Goodfellow and entered into a contract with him in the hopes of having his name known worldwide. Unfortunately, he had made no such accomplishments.
“I see what this is about,” Puck continued. “You’re not worried that she’s in trouble, you’re worried that she’ll steal your spotlight.” He stood up, walking around his desk and kneeling behind Joseph. “My dear boy, you’ve had 300 hundred years to make a name for yourself. You amassed great fortune while working at my side, and yet your name was unknown to all but your clients, and even they forgot you once you had done their dirty work. It’s someone else’s turn, Joseph, and the magic that kept young expired three years ago. Our contract ended, yet out of the kindness of my heart, I let you stay here and mentor my newest employees, but if you continue to sulk and bring down my spirits, you’ll have outstayed your welcome.”
“But why her?!” Joseph shouted in anger. “What has she got that makes her so right for this job?”
“Well for one thing, an inside voice.” Puck taunted. Joseph huffed and slunk down in his chair as if a child being scolded by a parent. “And if you must know, birthright.”
Joseph sat up in his chair again. “What?”
“That’s right, unlike you, Marie’s powers come from her blood. In fact, she isn’t just any witch, she’s a witch reborn, though she does not yet know it.”
“Why haven’t you told her?”
Puck laughed. “It’s much more fun when they find these things out on their own.”
Joseph wasn’t sure how to react. It made sense now why Puck had given her so much freedom, so much attention. Her powers came from some long-dead ancestor. She really was something else, he’d known it from the moment he saw her.
“Now, if you’re so determined to meddle, then by all means go to the crystal mirror and divine her location and status, or that of some other trouble, but please, for the love of everything unholy, stop your sulking.”
Joseph nodded, lifting himself from the desk and descending the stairs to the second floor workspace. He would scry for Marie. And so, he took up a large crystal and peered into its surface. He expected to see Marie, but instead he was greeted with the image of a large underpass, along with a thick haze. He took a pen and paper and began an automatic writing session. Among the normal gibberish was a set of numbers, the latitude and longitude of an area in Lost Haven.
“Holt,” he called for his familiar, who appeared as soon as he was called.
“You rang?” he greeted Joseph with his normal sass.
Joseph pointed to the numbers. “I want you to go to these coordinates and tell me what you see.” he instructed.
“Does this have something to do with Marie?” Holt questioned.
“I’m not sure. It could, but I think it’s something else.”
Holt nodded and assumed the form of a raven. He gobbled down the paper with the coordinates and flew to the location. He appeared several yards above the North Bridge underpass on Tyburn Avenue. He couldn’t seem to fly lower as his way was obstructed by an invisible barrier. He peered down and saw only fog, but with his supernatural vision, was able to make out about three definite figures, as well as sense the presence of something else . . . the Fae. He disappeared in a puff of black smoke and appeared before Joseph once more.
“What did you see?” Joseph questioned him eagerly.
“Hard to say, but the entire area around the North Bridge underpass is heavily warded, and I felt the presence of the Fair Folk.”
“Faeries? Why would they be warding such large areas?”
Holt shrugged. “No clue. It’s probable that the outer wards were the weakest, but even if you managed to get through those wards, you’d be trapped inside several more layers, and the entire area was glamoured. I saw everything as a thick fog and could only make out a few figures.”
Joseph stood up and paced around the room, unsure how to proceed. He could just ignore it and go back to trying to find Marie, but now that he knew about her powers, he felt the need to prove himself. If he could uncover some faery mystery, maybe take down some villain of his own, he might finally gain the recognition he’d always dreamed of, but how would he combat such heavy magic?
“I’ve got an idea,” he exclaimed after several moments of intense silence. “Bring me a hawthorn blasting rod, an iron ring, and some rowan ash.” Holt nodded and disappeared for a few moments, returning with the requested items.
Joseph took the ashes and created an enchanting sigil on the floor. Next, he placed the iron ring at its center and, using the hawthorn rod, which was riddled with sharp thorns, he cut his hand and let the blood spill on the ring. He finally waved the rod over the whole thing while reciting an old Irish incantation, the ring shimmering red for a few moments, then returning to its normal sheen. Joseph took the ring and placed it on his finger.
“This should cut through any enchantments I encounter, especially those performed by faeries.”
“Let’s hope it does,” Holt replied.
The pair went down to the ground floor and to a large red door, intricately embroidered and bearing Puck’s symbol. Joseph knocked on the door three times, priming it. “Lost Haven, Tyburn Avenue, North Bridge.” Joseph instructed the door on its location as best he could. The symbol at its center spun wildly, then the door flung open, revealing a thick fog on the other side. Joseph and Holt stepped through, the door closing swiftly behind them and disappearing into the thicket of brush they had emerged from.
“Here goes nothing,” Joseph said, holding up the hand that bore the enchanted ring. Sure enough, his hand made contact with the outer barrier, and as soon as it did, the barrier began to visibly burn and retract, leaving a large enough opening for Joseph and Holt to go through. He continued to hold out his hand and eat through the enchantments until they had reached the center, where Lekh, Odette, and Racheli were doing battle.
