It had been one month since the worst day of her life. Since it happened. Since all of her family and her home were taken away from her in one fell swoop.
She’d always known that they could fail, that Harken could win, but some part of her had always believed that everything would be all right. That Lyell would defeat Count Harken and save the city. So discovering that it had all been for nothing, that Harken had won and everything and everyone she knew and loved was gone, well, it had broken her heart so much that she doubted it would ever heal again.
For a month she had sat and wasted away in Mr Singh’s cabin, her heart aching unbearably, her tears stinging her eyes and streaming down her face. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lyell and Charlie and Maisie and all the other people she loved who were either dead or at the mercy of Count Harken. It pained her to know that they were likely in trouble, and that she would never see them again.
Then, one day, Mr Singh had finally convinced her to go for a walk, and she’d come across a cottage in the woods, with a sign reading “Witch for hire—services available, for a price”.
A witch…her curiosity piqued, she’d stepped inside the cottage and marvelled. It was full of potions and ingredients varying from ordinary to exotic and strange. There was a large cauldron perched on a table in the middle of the room.
The witch was also in the centre of the small space, dusting the floor with a broom. She looked up and stared at Amy when she heard her come in.
“I take it you are in need of my services,” she said in a gravelly voice.
Amy stared back at her, surprised despite herself, but then nodded. “You know, I think I am.”
“Mrs Bone,” Mr Singh said to her with worry in his eyes. “I should warn you as a friend, that what you are about to do could go very wrong for you. You do not know what kind of effect this spell will have, or what price it will ask of you.”
“I don’t care about any of that,” Amy told him. Tears stung her eyes. “Nothing matters anymore without my family. Without my home. What does it matter what happens to me if they are all lost to me?”
Mr Singh sighed. “I know you are grieving, but—”
“Stop.” Amy touched his arm gently. “I know you mean well, but I’ve made up my mind. I must do this. For them.”
Tears stood in Mr Singh’s own eyes. He had tried his best to support her over these past weeks, even though he was dealing with his own grief. His son had been in the city when it disappeared. He had tried everything possible to help her, but he couldn’t fix the deep scars in her heart. She doubted anyone could.
She knew that he disapproved of what she was planning to do, but he didn’t say anything else to dissuade her, which she was grateful for. This would be hard enough without him voicing more of his doubts and concerns.
He walked with her to the witch’s cottage and embraced her when they were standing outside its door. She then almost felt guilty about what she was about to do, for it would leave him completely alone. But not for long, she told herself. If what she did worked, everyone would be back where they should be, and he would have his son back.
“Farewell, my dear, and good luck,” Mr Singh said to her. “You will surely need it.”
“I know,” she whispered. She hugged him back and kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve been such a true friend to me, these past months. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.”
“You can repay me by staying safe, wherever you are going and whatever happens to you. Do not forget your goal and the people who love you.”
“I won’t forget. I promise.” Amy blinked back her tears and turned toward the cottage door, toward her fate. Swallowing hard, she forced her herself to take those final steps and entered the cottage, where the witch was waiting.
“Are you ready?”
Amy stood with the witch in the centre of the small room, next to the large cauldron she had seen the last time she’d visited the cottage.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m ready.”
“There’s going to be a price,” the witch reminded her. “There always is a price. Are you still willing to pay it?”
“Yes,” Amy told her firmly. “I’m willing to pay any price for this.”
After all, nothing could hurt more or be worse than the deadened despair and grief she was feeling right now.
“Very well then.” The witch began to add ingredients to the boiling water in the cauldron, until she finally turned to Amy and said, “I will need a drop of your blood.”
Amy held out her hand without asking any questions. The witch pricked one of her fingers with a needle. Amy watched entranced as blood welled on the tip of her finger and then fell into the boiling concoction in the cauldron, turning it a deep purple.
It almost reminded her of the night she and Charlie had woken Lyell up from his trance, all those months ago. Manfred Bloor had shattered the bottle of the Red King’s Tears that would have broken Lyell’s trance, and she’d thought all was lost. But Lyell had pricked his finger on one of the jagged glass remains of the bottle, had put his finger to his mouth, had looked at her and Charlie and had remembered them at last. The drop of Red King’s Tears on the jagged glass had been enough to wake him up.
Hopefully what she was about to do would also be enough to bring her loved ones back.
The witch began to chant. Amy listened, mesmerised, but as it went on and on she began to feel a bit queer. Her pricked finger began to throb painfully. And then the world fell away and she was suddenly surrounded by clouds of beautiful colours of red, green, orange, indigo, yellow…
“What’s happening?”
She turned to ask the witch, but the witch was nowhere to be found. Neither was the room she had been in. There was just the never-ending clouds of colour surrounding her. Was anyone else there? she wondered anxiously. Or was it just her in this strange place? Had something gone wrong with the spell, or was this to be her fate, to be trapped here while her loved ones and her city returned to the real world?
She hadn’t said any of her thoughts aloud, but a voice suddenly answered her—irritated, frustrated and terribly familiar. She’d heard it in her dreams for the past months, ever since she had gone with Lyell on their fake honeymoon and began helping him in his quest to protect the city from Count Harken.
“This is the blood price you paid to alter reality. You foolish woman, you’ve trapped us both here for eternity because of your need for revenge and your grief. You have doomed us!”
She shivered. She would know that voice anywhere. It was Count Harken.
“Doomed us?” she thought aloud. “Oh!”
“I could kill you for this,” the enchanter snapped. “I had the Red King’s city in my grasp, and you took it away from me! Not only that, but you reduced us to being trapped together in this dimension! All my hard work, gone. Poof!”
That didn’t seem like a bad thing, but Amy didn’t dare say so to him. After all, he was still an enchanter, and what if he still had most of his powers? If she angered him he could turn her into a toad, or worse. But at least it seemed as if he couldn’t escape from wherever they were. He was just as trapped as she was.
Well then, if this was the price she had to pay, then she was okay with it, as long as her loved ones and her home were safe. She didn’t know exactly what had happened, but if Count Harken was here with her, then the Red King’s city must surely be back in the real world, and her loved ones along with it.
Lyell, Charlie, Paton, Maisie…
She smiled slightly at the thought of them. Her husband, her son, her uncle-in-law and her mother. All who she loved dearly, almost as much as life itself.
She would likely never see them again, but that was okay. Her sacrifice would keep them safe. That would be the hope she would cling to in this strange dimension.
Harken kept ranting but Amy ignored him and closed her eyes. If she was stuck in this place for eternity, then she might as well try and get some rest.
3. fight aliens with, fight zombies with, fight capitalism with
I'm not a huge fan of fighting things with other people, with very few exceptions. I'm very much a "I will do this myself so I will know it will get done the way I want it to be done"-person. Also, if something goes wrong, I like to only have myself to blame.
But that's not what you asked.
I would fight aliens with Mr Singh, because of his supernatural... tendencies.
I would fight zombies with Nyx, because I would want someone else's brains to be eaten.
I would fight capitalism (which is the most urgent thing) with Elliott because she's way smarter than I am and this doesn't come down to strength and stubbornness.
If they do not deserve your forgiveness then maybe getting rid of them is indeed another possible way for you to achieve Zen. Not that I’d condone murder in this case but...if the things they’ve done to you are never to be forgiven no matter what they deserve what’s coming to them. And...your enemies are my enemies.
Am I good at forgiving people? It depends on the gravity of the issue I guess. But yes, I have forgiven most of them. Even the ones who tried to murder me. Mostly because eventually it’ll all be inconsequential once I ascended fully. Their tiny insignificant lives mean nothing to me.
Should we actually meet up in the near future I might be willing to share more with you, though there are topics that are strictly for my acolytes and as far as I can tell you’re not interested in joining my group, right?
Just let me know when a timeslot would appear and I will see if I can fit it into my schedule.
“Your enemies are my enemies”!? Is this an... offer to take care of my Hating Hates that Hate, Mr Singh? I will admit that getting rid of them would make me very Zen indeed. But I’m not sure if killing to get Zen is the right way to go about this, to be honest.
In each case, it’s quite nice to have an ally, espeially now that the whole world is on my case about talking to you.
Also, genuine question - how do you recruit acolytes without being willing to actually tell them about your Goddess? I mean, no, right now I’m not interested in joining your cult group, because, think about it: why would I? I know absolutely NOTHING about your Goddess and/or what your group stands for and/or in what way it would benefit me to join your group. And if you’re unwilling to share these things, for whatever reason, this won’t change. I mean I can, sort of, understand why you wouldn’t want to talk about your Goddess on here, but I truly fail to see why you wouldn’t be willing to tell me about Her in a private setting.
As for when I’m able to come to London - I fear it won’t work until somewhere in October. I’ll let you know as soon as I can be more specific about this. I hope we can find a time that suits us both. Also, I keep forgetting, but: thanks for being willing to meet me face to face.
Mrs. Hib, I hope you have had a pleasant time since we spoke last. Are you still planning to meet me in London?
Good evening Mr Singh, and thank you for checking in. To answer your question: no, I did not. The time since we last spoke has been fraught with misunderstandings between me and friends and Team members others. Very un-Zen.
I hope that you have fared better and that sweet Mafdet is very well.
And, yes, I'm very much still planning to meet you in London if you're still willing to receive me. But, like I told you earlier, I won't be able to make this work until somewhere in October because of work and other obligations. I hope this is not a problem. As soon as I can be more specific I'll let you know. Why did you ask?
