Dark Redemption chapter 47: Business Luncheon

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Strephon MacKenzie, a semi-immortal half-fae, has been commissioned by the Queen of the Faerie to investigate fae activity in the city. To that end, he has cultivated the acquaintance of Melchior, a powerful faerie lord who has taken over a computer company.

"I recommend the Veal Frommage a la Asteroth," Melchior Aesermann said. "Not up to the standards of the Faerie Court, of course, but quite passable for mortal viands."

Strephon had never been to the Chez R'lyeth before. It was a trendy restaurant occupying the top floor of the Trinity Building in downtown Redemption. It served only the hautest of cuisine and offered a spectacular view of the downtown skyline and of the castle in the Old Town.

"I've become quite accustomed to mortal food," Strephon said after the waiter left with their order. "The problem with faerie food is that after a century you're hungry again." Melchior chuckled politely and Strephon then added, "May I ask why you invited me here?"

"Right to business, eh?"

"I gathered this was a business lunch."

Aesermann put his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. "Have you considered my offer?"

Actually, Strephon had nearly forgotten about it; the last few days had been so crammed with events and distractions. "Well," he said, "it is intriguing, but I'm a little bit vague on a few important points. Not to seem gauche, but what exactly are you offering me? What do I gain by joining with you?"

If he expected Melchior to be offended, he was disappointed. "You gain my patronage," he said. "That is no small matter."

"In the Faerie Court I'm sure it is not, but I make my home here in the Mortal Realm. I'm afraid I have little use for Fae politics."

"But my dear Strephon, I have influence in this world too and am gaining more. I understand you had some difficulty with a witch named Morrigan last night. I could have helped you with her. I would have been happy to take care of the matter."

Strephon colored. He should have known Melchior would hear about that sooner or later. "It was a personal matter," he said. "I preferred to deal with her myself. Perhaps I should say more importantly, what do you expect from me in return for your patronage? I know nothing of computers. I rarely even use the telephone. I have no experience in marketing or management. I can offer nothing to your company."

Melchior laughed. "I can hire technicians and programmers. But you have a unique position in this community which could prove useful to me. You are familiar, of course, with the Council?"

He did not have to specify. The Council was an group of werewolves, vampires and the occasional god or two, which informally governed the magical beings of the city. "I have had dealings with the Council, but not for many years."

"Lady Kurayami is on the Council and she has nominated me for membership." Melchior permitted himself a self-satisfied smirk.

"Congratulations," Strephon said.

"I have yet to be approved. As you no doubt know, there currently are no Fae sitting on the Council. Some of the members are outright hostile to us."

"Well, the Fae have traditionally held themselves above such petty mortal concerns as parliamentary procedure. I take it you do not."

Melchior's smile became more wolfish. "The Fae are going to become a presence in this city. It is only right that they be represented. And who better to represent them?"

Strephon nodded thoughtfully. "A reasonable ambition. And how does my unique position fit in with your goals?"

"I want you to accompany me to the next Council meeting. Speak a few words on my behalf."

"I have not had contact with the Council in decades! I hardly know who is on it anymore!"

"You met some of them at my party last week. And the Council knows you. You are respected as a long-time resident of the city and regarded as an honorable man. You carry more weight than perhaps you suspect."

Strephon pondered. Shallow flattery, of course, but how should he respond? The notion of nominating this cad for even a library card repelled him. On the other hand, Melchior was going to proceed with his plans with or without the Council's blessings; perhaps it would indeed be better to have him out in the open within the Council's sight rather than plotting in the darkness. And how better to gain Melchior's confidence enough to uncover those plots than to aid his social-climbing.

"Since you put it that way..." Strephon said, "...I accept."

Next:  Dangerous Dreams 

Dark Redemption chapter 46: Fume, Fume, Fume

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Cassandra True, plucky girl reporter, has survived her first assignment for the Redemption Morning Star, having been imprisoned by the sweet old lady she was supposed to be interviewing. Now she faces an even more harrowing ordeal...

Cassandra had been working for the Morning Star less than thirty-six hours and already she had come to dread her editor's Kindly Voice.

"This is not the Daily Oracle, Miss True," Mr. Johnson said like a soothing parent explaining that This Will Hurt Me More Than It Hurts You. "We have a certain obligation to our readers. We can't have these unsubstantiated wild fantasies, no matter how imaginative."

"Unsubstantiated? I have quotes from witnesses!"

"Then there is the matter of your allegations against Mrs. Morrigan."

"The witch kidnapped me!"

A pained expression crossed the editor's face. "That word. It has certain negative connotations. You must understand, the Wiccan Anti-Defamation League is very powerful in this city. It is the policy of this paper not to disparage anyone's religion."

"Religion has nothing to do with it! She locked me up in a bloody iron cage!"

Mr. Johnson shut his eyes with a saintly patience and when he opened them said, "I can see that you are too close to this story. Your emotional investment is too great. I suggest that you turn your notes over to one of our more experienced reporters and let him write it."

That was the end of the matter. Cassandra spent the rest of the morning proofreading wire copy and sizing photographs -- something any halfway competent intern could do -- and fuming.

Mostly, she fumed at Strephon. She had saved his life the night before; or at least saved him from whatever that Morrigan woman had planned for him, and how did he react? Clever girl!  Like she was a cocker spaniel who had brought him his newspaper. Well, it hadn't seemed quite so condescending at the time, but then the police showed up.

As soon as the police arrived, Strephon took charge. He explained how a messenger had told him that Mrs. Morrigan was holding a friend of his and demanded he come to negotiate her release, which was true as far as it went, but he described Morrigan's servants as purely human agents. He explained that Morrigan had once been in love with his grandfather and had developed an irrational obsession with him. It all sounded so reasonable, except...

What about the Banshee? What about the Wisp? What about Morrigan's certainty that Strephon was the same man she had loved years ago?

She told the police her story, but they seemed skeptical. "The tea she offered you, you thought it was drugged?" Strephon offered. "Perhaps some of the things you thought you saw..." "But I did see it!"

Finally, Cassandra grudgingly accepted Strephon's version of the night's events and that was the version she wrote in her story; and even that was too unbelievable, apparently.

"Hi, Cassie. How's it going?" Cassandra shook herself out of her self-pity and saw Saul Taylor leaning on her desk. He flashed her a charming smile.

She was not in the mood. "How does it look like it's going?"

Saul shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Um, listen. I hope you're not mad. Billy gave me your story to re-write."

Cassandra growled.

"It's a good story. Well-written. It's just, well... it is a bit fantastic."

"Hah!" Cassandra grumbled. "I didn't write the half of what happened."

"Well then. Would you like to tell me about it... over lunch, maybe?"

Cassandra softened. She was feeling peckish and Saul did have a nice smile. "Hmmm... I suppose I could be persuaded."

* * * * *

"He talks to me like I'm a child," Cassandra said through a mouthful of Thai beef. "I've noticed that everyone else he yells at, but with me he uses this smarmy, soothing, patronizing voice like he's explaining to me why I can't have a lolly until after dinner."

"Well, I'm afraid you're a victim of your own success there," Saul replied. "Billy likes to hire his own reporters. He doesn't like it when the Celestial Mister Knox graces us with new employees by Imperial Decree. Until you can prove otherwise, Billy's going to assume you're incompetent and only got your jobs through nepotism. It isn't fair, but there you are."

Cassandra grumbled and stabbed at a water chestnut with her fork.

"You have to also remember, this is a very conservative paper. Billy believes that reporters should report the news, not make the news."

"It's not like I asked to be kidnapped!"

"I know, I know," Saul said soothingly. "Listen. Let me try to talk to Billy. Maybe I can persuade him to cut you a little slack." He reached across the table and put his hand on hers. "And then maybe we could talk it over at dinner?"

Cassandra thought it over for a moment. "You know, there is one other thing you could do for me..."

NEXT:  Business Luncheon 

Dark Redemption chapter 45: Things Base and Vial

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Aoi Kurayami, a powerful vampiress, has entered into a partnership with Faerie Lord Melchior Aesermann. She also runs the Club Cyba-Netsu, a popular cyber-cafe frequented by many denizens of the night. Some of them are even human...

Kurayami turned the slim vial of liquid over and over in her fingers, allowing the light to play in the lavender colored solution inside. "I will have you know that I do not do business with your kind," she said.

The person seated across from her desk leaned back with an insinuating smile. He clearly suffered under the delusion he was in control of this situation. Seymour, the club bouncer who had brought this visitor to Kurayami's attention, glared down at him, radiating silent intimidation, with no apparent effect. "Is that so, Mistress Kurayami?" the visitor purred with insulting politeness. "I was given to understand you had no problems dealing with the Fae." He gave a glance over at the other table where Claude sat mutely in front of a computer terminal.

"Him?" Kurayami said. "He is a gift from Lord Melchior. He is pretty to look at and adequate in bed. He also has other uses." Claude was one of Melchior's people, what he called the 'Silicon Fae': faerie with a special affinity for technology. Claude tilted his head slightly, revealing the cable running from his computer to an input jack in his skull, just behind his perfectly-formed ear. Yes, Kurayami found Claude to be very useful. He made her system run 65% faster.

"But you misunderstand me," Kurayami continued. "It is not your species I object to, but your occupation." She tossed the vial back at her visitor. "I was referring to drug dealers."

"Please. I have no desire to cut into your profits. Indeed, I am more than happy to offer a percentage for your patronage."

"I run a legal establishment. I permit no drugs" She smiled, just enough to show her teeth. "Besides, they leave an unpleasant taste in the blood." It was time this fool realized his position.

"But surely, Mistress Kurayami, a powerful vampire lord like you is not afraid of mortal law."

Now the fool was becoming tiresome. The blatant play on her vanity suggested a lack of respect for her intelligence as well as for her power. "It pleases the police that they not look too closely at my affairs and it pleases me that I never give them a reason to wish to. The first rule of control is to never give others a reason to challenge your control. Surely you know that."

Kurayami rose from her desk and walked around it to her visitor. Seymour stepped back to give her room, recognizing the quiet menace in her mood. The visitor seemed not to realize his danger; or perhaps he didn't care. He was clearly either very confident, or an idiot. It was time to end this game.

She leaned over the visitor, cradling his jaw tenderly in her fingers and bringing her lips close to the side of his neck. "I know what you are thinking," she whispered. "You are thinking that I will not dare bite you. You are thinking that your blood protects you; that the raw magic of your faerie nature would destroy me as surely as sunlight would; and that even if I were powerful enough to survive drinking of you, that the magic in your blood would bind me to you and make me yours. For that reason you think you have nothing to fear..." She felt the muscles in his throat tense in anticipation as her teeth hovered so tantalizingly close.

"You are mistaken!"

Her fingers abruptly closed upon his trachea and she wrenched his head to meet her gaze. Her nails dug into the flesh of his neck and her eyes transfixed his like a pin holding a butterfly. "You will tell me," she hissed, "what manner of drug do you sell?"

"It - it's not a drug!" the person stammered. "It's Essence of the Fae, distilled from faerie blood!"

"Poison!"

"No! Not poison! It enraptures mortals, true, but their blood transforms the essence and makes it safe for your kindred!"

Kurayami knotted her brow and kindled twins sparks of malice in her eyes. In a moment or two, the fae would realize that he could simply turn into a moonbeam or a cloud of thistledown or something equally poetic and escape her grasp, but for now she held him fast by her will. Beings of fancy rather than substance, the Fae were immune to most physical attack, but not to domination by the will. Kurayami possessed will in abundant quantity.

For a moment their gazes held. Then, she released her grasp and the visitor fell to the floor with an ungraceful thud. "Do something to him, Seymour," she said. "I care not what."

Seymour bent over to pick up the visitor, but the fae dissolved into a rainbow of mist and disappeared, leaving only the small purple vial.

He reached for the vial, but before he could take it, Kurayami crushed it beneath the toe of her shoe. The vial's lavender contents seeped into her carpeted floor.

"Claude, darling. Be a dear and clean that up. This way, Seymour." Kurayami strode out of her office, followed by her faithful shadow.

She felt a need for more pleasant company.

Next:  Fume Fume Fume

Dark Redemption chapter 44: The Banshee Sings

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Strephon MacKenzie, a semi-immortal half-fae, has learned that his friend Cassandra True has been abducted by Belladonna Morrigan, a witch of Strephon's acquaintance who harbors an obsessive love for him. Morrigan has enslaved two other fae, Mist and Banshee, and intends to do the same to Strephon. Now Strephon is coming to rescue Cassandra, accompanied by his cousin Devon, and his friend Tobias, a Jamaican cabbie.

"If your old girlfriend really wanted you to visit her," Devon grumbled as he forced Strephon's wheelchair over an obstructing tree root, "you'd think she'd make the effort to make her home wheelchair-accessible."

"Morrigan was never my girlfriend," Strephon replied peevishly. "Really, Devon, your remarks about my social life are becoming exceedingly tiresome!"

"Keep quiet," Tobias warned. He crept a few paces ahead of Strephon, watching and listening for any movement in the trees. He clenched a tire iron in his fist, just to be ready.

The three men had been advancing cautiously down the twisting path through Fellwood for five minutes. So far they had encountered no one, but Strephon knew they were being watched. He fingered one of his canes nervously.

"You realize, of course, that this is a trap," Devon said.

"Of course, it is."

"We should be going in with some kind of a plan."

"Since we have no idea what we'll find when we get there, any plans we make will be rendered moot anyway."

Tobias turned back to the two. "Maybe if you two talk a little louder the old witch won't have to turn up her hearing aid."

Devon and Strephon were silent for a moment. Then Devon added, "Uppity for a mortal, isn't he."

They proceeded in silence for a while, then Devon cursed. "Your wheelchair's caught on another blasted root." He shoved at the chair, but something held it back. "Hello! What's this?" Devon saw a tangle of vines growing up from the path and entwining themselves in the spokes of the wheelchair. "Earth magic. How typical."

Strephon twisted the handle of his cane, releasing the sword tip from the end. "Morrigan! Show yourself! We know you're out there!"

A shadow seemed to part like a curtain and the old witch appeared on the path before them, accompanied by a sullen-faced girl with leaden eyes. "You were told to come alone," Morrigan said.

"These friends are merely seeing to my safety," Strephon replied. "The forest at night is full of dangers. You wouldn't want any ill to fall upon me before you had the opportunity to inflict it yourself, now would you?" His tone cooled. "Where is Cassandra?"

"She is safe, for the moment."

"I will thank you to release her."

Morrigan smiled. "Tell your friends to withdraw."

Tobias glanced at Strephon. Strephon nodded, and Tobias lowered his tire iron and stepped back behind the wheelchair. Devon let go of the chair and moved aside to give him and the iron plenty of room. Then, Devon's body suddenly shifted into the form of a black panther which sprang at the witch.

"Devon! What are you doing?" Strephon shouted.

Before the panther could reach Morrigan, the girl stepped in front of her. A thin, piercing wail emitted from her lips. Devon shifted back into his human form in mid-spring and fell to the ground clutching his ears. Tobias charged to his aid, waving his tire iron like a club. The Banshee flinched at the cold iron of his weapon as he approached, but delivered another paralyzing scream. Before Tobias had crossed half the distance, his knees failed him and he too fell.

"That was very foolish," Morrigan chuckled. She stepped over the bodies of Tobias and Devon and advanced towards Strephon. "You are fortunate I am in a forgiving mood."

"What do you want?" Strephon asked.

"Why, you, of course! Many years ago I offered you my love and you rejected me. You crushed me, Strephon! You humiliated me!"

"I never meant to hurt you, Belle," Strephon said softly.

"Do not call me that!" Morrigan drew another amulet from the sleeve of her robe; the silver leaf and thorn amulet she had made, like the one the Banshee and the Wisp bore. Strephon raised his sword cane in defense. "Put that thing down," Morrigan scolded. "Remember, the trollop's life is in my hand. Submit to me and I will release her. Refuse me again, and she dies."

Strephon 's sword cane wavered in his hand. He considered a dozen bluffs, clever arguments and gambits. None of them would serve but to delay the inevitable. He lowered the sword.

"Put on the charm," Morrigan ordered, holding out the amulet to him.

Strephon hesitated. "Cassandra," he said.

"Yes," Morrigan cackled, "do it for Cassandra." The Banshee, however, turned in time to see what Strephon saw. Cassandra stood behind her. She made a grab for the Banshee's amulet.

"Cover your ears!" Strephon shouted. Cassandra ignored him and pulled at the Banshee's amulet. The Banshee gave another hideous cry that made Strephon's nerves want to crawl up out of his fingers, but Cassandra did little more than wince. She held a pair of tin snips in her other hand and pulling the amulet taut, cut the cord fastening it around the Banshee's neck.

The Banshee fell over backwards. She picked herself up and felt around her neck. The leaden look had vanished from her eyes.

Morrigan faced Cassandra angrily. "You trollop! How dare you interfere!" Magic crackled in her hair and she raised her gnarled hands to cast a spell.

"The amulet, Strephon!" Cassandra cried. "Get her amulet!"

Strephon lunged forward and grabbed the amulet around Morrigan's neck. The crone screamed. Cassandra ran up and cut the amulet's golden chain with the tin snips and the iron ring holding the golden thorn and leaf fell to the ground.

Immediately, Wisp and Banshee appeared on either side of Morrigan and siezed her by either arm. "What? No! Let go of me! You can't do this!" the witch protested.

"We serve you no longer," the Wisp said.

Banshee added, "Now you will serve us!"

The three vanished like like mist.

Strephon blinked. "My. That was unexpected." He turned to Cassandra. "How did you escape? And how did you survive the Banshee's attack?"

"What?" Cassandra asked. "Sorry." She put her hand to her ear and picked a small piece of material from it. "Mrs. Morrigan had some wax on her workbench; for her jewelry-making I guess. I remembered the story of Odysseus..."

"...And you stopped up your ears! Clever girl!" Strephon laughed. "Never underestimate the benefits of a Classical education!"

Next Chapter:  Things Base and Vial

Dark Redemption chapter 43: ...Nor Iron Bars a Cage

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Plucky girl reporter Cassandra True has been imprisoned by Mrs. Morrigan, the sweet old lady she was supposed to be interviewing. Morrigan, it turns out, is a sorceress with an obsessive interest in Cassandra's friend Strephon. Morrigan has already enslaved a pair of faerie named Banshee and Wisp to her will and now intends to use Cassandra to lure Strephon into a trap

For a while, Cassandra sat still in the suspended cage, trying to keep it from rocking. The Wisp sat in a chair at the other end of the room and watched her. Finally, she dared to speak.

"So... you're magical?"

"I am a Fae," the Wisp answered simply. "Your kind know us as faeries."

"Oh." He didn't look like a fairy. "I thought that fairies were tiny creatures with butterfly wings who sit on cowslips and such."

"You're thinking of pixies. We get that all the time." He folded his arms and grunted. "Edmund Spenser has a lot to answer for!"

"I... I never knew things like that were real."

"Well, they're not. They're quaint Victorian fictions. Arthur Conan Doyle has a lot to answer for too."

Cassandra decided she'd better change the subject before he started tearing into William Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde and Edward Bulwer Lytton as well. "So... you and that other girl are Mrs. Morrigan's slaves?"

"We are not slaves!" The Wisp composed himself. "The Witch compels us to serve her but we are not slaves! The fae are immortal and cannot be enslaved by lesser beings!" He rose from his seat and advanced towards the cage. "The Witch is a mortal. Every breath she takes brings her closer to death. When she is dust, then my sister and I shall be free!"

"Ah." Obviously she picked the wrong subject. Cassandra shifted her position which set the cage swinging again. "Um. would you mind letting me out so I could stretch my legs? It's kind of uncomfortable in here."

"Is the cold iron of the bars searing your mortal flesh?" Mist sneered.

"Um, not exactly..."

"Then you have nothing to complain about!" The Wisp returned to his seat sulkily.

A sudden understanding struck Cassandra. Wisp had once been imprisoned in this very cage. She dimly recalled that fairies had a problem with iron. She could envision the poor creature, trapped and terrified in the agonizing confines of the iron cage as the witch taunted him.

"I'm sorry," Cassandra said meekly. "It must have been horrible for you."

The Wisp only grunted in reply.

"I don't suppose you'd care to bring me a drink of water? Please?" She looked at him imploringly.

The Wisp eyed her suspiciously, but rose and ambled to the kitchen. A few moments later he returned with the glass.

"Um, could you come a little closer?" Cassandra pleaded. She had a crazy idea.

Wisp made a face and inched a little closer to the iron bars of the cage, holding out the glass of water. Cassandra held her breath. She would only get one chance to try this.

She lunged and made a grab -- not for the cup of water, but for the amulet around Wisp's neck. The Wisp gave a startled shout and tried to jerk backwards, but Cassandra had a firm grasp on the amulet.

"Let go! Let go! It hurts!" the Wisp shouted.

"Stop struggling! I'm trying to help you! Duck your head!"

Wisp did so, and Cassandra yanked the amulet off his neck. The Wisp fell to the floor gasping and panting. Cassandra tumbled backwards, sending the cage swinging wildly.

The Wisp gradually caught his breath. Then he grasped his chest and patted himself. He dissolved and reformed in a standing position. "You freed me," he said.

"Yeah."

"You didn't have to do that."

"It... it seemed like the right thing to do."

Wisp stared at her for a while. Then he turned around and left the room. He returned wearing an oven mitt. He used the mitt to take a large iron key from a nail on the wall and tossed the key to Cassandra. "I owe you nothing," he said. Then he dissipated again into a mist and fled from the cottage.

Cassandra knelt on the bottom of the cage staring at the key she clutched in her hands. Too late, she called out, "Thank you!"

NEXT:  The Banshee Sings

Dark Redemption chapter 42: Reconnaisance Report

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Plucky girl reporter Cassandra True has been imprisoned by Mrs. Morrigan, the sweet old lady she was supposed to be interviewing. Morrigan, it turns out, is a sorceress with an obsessive interest in Cassandra's friend Strephon. Morrigan has already enslaved a pair of faerie named Banshee and Wisp to her will and now intends to use Cassandra to lure Strephon into a trap.

Cassandra shivered as she watched the hideous old crone polish the silver amulet. The woman was mad, of course, but what could Cassandra do?

She saw a shimmering in the air which solidified into the pale, light-haired young man she'd seen earlier. "What is it, Wisp?" Morrigan asked.

"Strephon is approaching, Mistress," the Wisp replied. "He has just left his taxicab and is entering the forest."

"Good! Good!" Morrigan chuckled.

"He is not alone," Wisp added. Morrigan looked up at him sharply. He paused uncertainly, then continued. "There is another fae with him. And a mortal."

"Who are they?"

The Wisp dissipated and re-coalesced into the image of Devon, Strephon's cousin. Cassandra gasped with recognition. "Ah, so you know him," Morrigan said. "What of the other?" The Wisp again dissolved and assumed the form of Tobias.

Morrigan hobbled over to the cage and peered at Cassandra through the bars. "Who are those people. Tell me!"

Something about the old woman's gaze seized Cassandra like the grip of a vise. She cried out involuntarily. "Devon! The first one's name is Devon! He's Strephon's cousin. And the other is Tobias Simms. He's a taxi driver."

The witch released Cassandra from that dreadful stare and she collapsed to the bottom of the cage. Morrigan turned back to the Wisp. "Simms... must be related to that Jamaican witch. No matter. I'll deal with her in good time. The mortal is inconsequential."

"But Mistress, the Moor bears iron."

"I said no matter! I will take Banshee with me to deal with Strephon's little friends." The witch narrowed her gaze. "You remain here and see that the girl does not escape."

NEXT:  ...Nor Iron Bars a Cage

Dark Redemption chapter 41: Witch at Work

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Plucky girl reporter Cassandra True has gone to the home of Belladonna Morrigan, a member of a community arts group, for an interview. But the sweet old lady who sings in Gilbert & Sullivan operettas has a nasty side and Cassandra finds herself captured by Morrigan's sorcerous servants...

Morrigan sang to herself as she worked, carefully removing the silver casting from its mold: "Things are seldom what they seem; skim milk masquerades as cream..." The charm had come out perfectly: A hawthorn leaf, impaled by a thorn, cast in silver. It was exactly like the amulet around her own neck, except that hers was cast in gold and set within an iron ring, of course.

She noticed the girl beginning to stir. That was good. Having her awake when Strephon arrived would provide him with that much more incentive. "Hello, ducks," Morrigan clucked as she threaded the charm upon a fine silver chain. "I hope you had a pleasant nap."

Cassandra moaned and tried to move. She was lying on something hard and cold which rocked as she shifted position. She saw bars before her. She was in a cage!

Morrigan smiled as the girl threw herself against the bars and the cage, suspended from a hook on the ceiling, swung back and forth. "Don't thrash about so, ducks. You'll make yourself giddy, you will."

"What do you want? Why have you done this to me?"

The old crone hobbled over to the cage and prodded the bars with her finger. "You have been touched by the Fae."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" Morrigan rocked back and forth on her heels and let her attention wander to the ceiling. "A great many years ago, when I was young and charming... I was once, you know; as fair and as charming as you are now... I too loved a fae; a handome faerie named Strephon."

"Strephon?"

Morrigan's gaze darted sharply back to Cassandra. "But he spurned me. He rejected my love. He crushed me. Do you know what that means?"

"If you mean have I ever been dumped before, yes, I suppose I have."

Morrigan grew angry. "No! I am talking of no mortal rejection. He was one of the Fae, and I loved him! But he spurned my love! Ever since, I have sought a way to win him back. And now I shall!"

Cassandra inched back to the far end of the cage.

"I have learned much about the Fae," the crone confided. "I have even managed to capture a few. You have seen my servants, Wisp and Banshee." She held the amulet she had made before her. "My sweet Strephon will come to rescue you. And when he does, I shall make him mine, just as those others are."

"There must be some mistake," Cassandra said timorously. "Your Strephon can't be the same person as my Strephon..."

"He's not yours!" Morrigan snapped. "He will never be yours!" She clutched the amulet tightly in her fist. Then she slowly regained her composure. "True, many long years have passed and I have grown old and grey while he still remains as youthful as ever. He is a Fae, did you not hear me? But tonight... tonight he shall become mine!"

The crone turned back to her table and resumed working on the amulet. As she did so, Cassandra heard her hum a delirious little tune.

"If that is so sing derry-down-derry
It's evident, very,
Our tastes are one;
Away we'll go and merrily marry
Nor tardily tarry
'Til day is done!"

NEXT:  Reconnaissance Report