Viscaria Drabble
Prompt: If someone knew Molly's name and that's how he learned it
or if chapter 8 ended differently
He glances up and meets expectant crimson eyes peering at him through thick lashes. Brain suddenly catching up, his heart skips a beat when he realizes how close they are. “Mollymauk…”
Exhaling softly, he closes his eyes and leans in.
The sudden sound of the door to the roof opening has the two of them jumping apart. Immediately wary, they exchange glances and poke their heads out to see a sole figure emerging. A woman with long black hair done up in an elaborate crown and a beautiful cinched gown approaches and looks directly at them, her eyes locked onto Molly. “Lucien, is that you? Answer me.”
“Yes.” Mollymauk jerks to attention as the response leaves his mouth, confusion and panic colouring his crimson eyes. “That’s…my name?” he whispers under his breath. “No, that’s not possible.”
Caleb glances over at the fey, feeling his own adrenaline pumping through his veins. “She’s human. I don’t see any magic. How can she see you?”
“A medium,” is the only explanation offered. Quickly gathering himself, Molly steps forward, doing his best to hide his wariness. “Yes, my dear?”
The woman smiles excitedly and takes another step forward. “It is you! I apologize for using your name like that. I know you shared it with me solely for emergencies, but I kept calling you and you never responded downstairs. I had to be sure.”
The fey returns the smile uneasily. “No trouble, friend. Perfectly understandable. The music was quite loud and I had quite the lovely distraction with me.”
“Of course,” the woman says, giving Caleb a nod. “Forgive my interruption, I was just overcome with excitement and couldn’t hold myself back. The ritual worked then?”
Seeing Molly trying to work out an answer, Caleb steps forward and says, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we have met? I am Caleb Widogast.”
“Apologies, how rude of me,” the woman returns. “Cree. Cree Deeproots. Always a pleasure and privilege to meet Lucien’s acquaintances.”
He nods slowly. “Bitte, the pleasure is all mine.”
Taking the opportunity to change the subject, Mollymauk smiles his most charming smile. “I do love seeing people meet through me. I hope you won’t mind, Cree dear, but I was just about to see Mister Caleb off.”
Excitement wearing off, something akin to suspicion arises in Cree’s expression. “Lucien, the ritual did work, didn’t it? Forgive me but answer.”
“I don’t know anything about a ritual,” Mollymauk blurts out before stepping back toward the ledge of the roof and pulling Caleb with him.
All happiness drains from Cree’s face. “Your memories have been scattered, then?” She scowls to herself. “We should’ve never trusted her! We can fix this, Lucien. I will find a way to fix this. Come to me.”
Even as his feet start moving against his will, with a shove, Molly pushes Caleb off the roof and hisses, “Go to the storm! Find Yasha!”
“Mollymauk!” For a moment of weightlessness, Caleb’s stomach flips and he braces himself for the fall but it never comes. Instead, he slowly drifts down until he lands safely on the ground. Looking up the side of the estate, he sees no trace of either person on the roof and curses under his breath. “Go to the storm,” he mutters to himself.
Quickly scanning the skies, he hears the rumble of thunder and sees distant roiling clouds hovering above the town. “Find Yasha,” he repeats. Running for the nearest carriage, he grabs the driver by the leg and shouts, “This is an emergency! Take me into town! I will pay you!”
On the way there, his vision suddenly darkens as Mollymauk’s spell fades. Whether it’s due to proximity or duration or some other variable, he dare not speculate.
When the carriage comes to a halt, Caleb throws a handful of coins at the driver and runs down the street with his adder stone to his eye. He nearly trips over himself when he sees a hulking monochrome figure by the library and skids to a stop. Hand braced on his knee, he takes a moment to catch his breath before calling out, “Yasha?”
The woman freezes and turns around, mismatched eyes immediately honing in on him. “The hunter.”
“Caleb? The fuck? I thought you were at the party.”
Caleb blinks uncomprehendingly for a moment at the sight of Beauregard stepping around the large fey. “Beauregard? I, what? No, it doesn’t matter. It’s Mollymauk. He needs help!”
