Deborah LeBlanc - Witch's Hunger

Esmee hissed in pain, lowered the coverlet of the sackcloth to examine her left shoulder and saw the mark of 8. The absolutus infinitus, at first red, faded quickly to black.

Julianne and Lisette huddled closer to Esmee, but it did not stop Magda’s mission. She aimed the bloodstone at Lisette, who let out a shriek of pain and clutched her right hip. Julianne came next, only hers Magda placed on her right ankle. Julianne bore the pain through gritted teeth.

“Now,” Magda continued, “to minimize the chances of this occurring again, each of you will compile separate tomes. Your tome must include every spell within your knowledge, whether innate or taught. You are to identify each spell, its purpose and the consequences that occur with use of each spell. These tomes will be known as Grimoires. Once they are completed, you will bind each Grimoire in Elder-wood for preservation.”

Magda waved the bloodstone over the stone table that separated the triplets from the Elders. Three palm-sized mirrors appeared on the table, one in front of each triplet. “Behind the front cover of your Grimoire, you will notch out an indention in the wood. One large enough to securely hold one of these mirrors. Understood?”

The triplets only stared at her.

“I said, do you understand?” Magda said loudly.

Esmee nodded slightly, and Lisette and Julianne quickly imitated her acknowledgment.

Seemingly satisfied, Magda continued. “You and every generation of Triads to follow must review your Grimoire daily. The first thing you will see upon opening your tome, however, is the mirror. It will reflect the death and destruction that will befall the world should you or any Triad not live up to her duties.”

Signaling the triplets closer, Magda pointed at the mirrors. “Come closer now and look at what your irresponsibility has set into motion, and why the consequences besetting you are so severe.”

All three sobbing now, the triplets drew closer until they stood at the edge of the stone table. Bayonne and Palmae leaned over to look within the mirrors themselves.

With another pounding from the staff of judgment, the reflective surfaces began to dance with a myriad of colors, swirls of red, purple, green, black. Within seconds, the colors settled into indescribable scenes so vivid it was as if they were seeing them firsthand.

Reflected in each palm-sized mirror was a sea of blood, dead bodies, some mid-decay, some fully decayed. Men, women and children, all strewn about the land like garbage. Blowflies, maggots and buzzards fed on the little bits of flesh that remained on corpses. From within these images, they heard great wailing and gnashing of teeth.

When Magda waved a hand over the mirrors, erasing the images, the triplets fell to their knees, sobbing. Bayonne and Palmae looked visibly shaken.

The shadows within the cave deepened, casting purple and dark gray lattices over each triplet. They were in shock, lost, a terrified look in their eyes.

Although her position as head of the council made it necessary for Magda to execute such punishment, she couldn’t help the pain she felt in her heart for the young women. She had handed down a life sentence that would change not only their lives forever but every generation of Triads to follow.

* * *

Still squatting near the mouth of the cave, Tenebrus, frustrated, strained to understand the words being spoken inside. From the occasional sob he heard coming from inside the cavern, Tenebrus assumed the punishment meted out was harsh. That angered him. Whatever limitations had been imposed on the triplets would limit him, as well.

He had known the three sisters since they were babies, and even back then he’d known something was different about the tiny witches. Triplets in any race seemed an anomaly, but in a tribe of witches, they were nearly nonexistent. So it only made sense that the three held special powers.

The day the triplets were born the Elders of the Circle of Sisters seemed perplexed as to what to make of the unusual birth. It was the beginning of a new race within their tribe. From each set of triplets, one triplet would bear triplets of her own, and so it would be until triplets no longer existed, which probably meant until the end of time.

Tenebrus had been right about them having special powers. All three girls had needed little training from a very young age. Most of the spells they conjured as children took many witches years to learn. Each triplet had special gifts in her own right, but he’d often wondered about what might happen if their powers were melded together. Well, he had to wonder no more. He had witnessed it firsthand the other evening.

The night of the incident, the one that resulted in the trip to this cavern, happened at Lord Chermoine’s castle. A prenuptial gathering prepared for the intendeds of the triplets—the wedding scheduled for the following day—and Tenebrus had garnered an invitation, which came as no surprise. He’d cast a simple yearning spell to make certain his name appeared on the roster.

An unfortunate delay, or fortunate depending on one’s point of view, caused Tenebrus to arrive at the castle late. Just in time to see the triplets standing outside the castle beside their intendeds, screaming about unfaithfulness. Women Tenebrus knew to be of ill repute ran out of the castle and scattered from the estate on foot, obviously not wanting any part of the tumult taking place outside.

Tenebrus hid behind a tree and watched as each triplet pointed to her intended, railing him unabashedly with obscenities.

Then the girls quickly gathered, joined hands and uttered words Tenebrus had never heard before. They swayed and chanted and from where he hid, Tenebrus felt the air thicken and begin to vibrate. Even with so much distance between him, he saw fear in the eyes of the men meant to marry these women.

Suddenly, Esmee pointed to the man she was to marry the next day and proclaimed, “You blame the drink for your actions, for your unfaithfulness. So let it be. From this day forth, you will thirst from your very core. You shall thirst for that which does not come easily and you will never know satisfaction.”

No sooner were those words uttered than the man’s face began to contort, widen and turn white. The hair on his head fell away as if someone with shears had been working behind the scenes, waiting for this very moment. His scalp was now white and bulbous with a large vein running up from the center of his forehead then branching out on top of his skull like tree branches. His mouth opened wide as he cried out in pain. His two front teeth became thin and sharp, incisor-like, and grew to unimaginable lengths. His eyes turned ruby red. The tips of his ears grew long and pointed. He stood frozen for only a moment, watching, feeling his own transformation, then ran for the woods behind the castle.

The two other men looked on in bewilderment and fear. Lisette pointed to her intended and proclaimed, “If you want to act like a beast, then you shall be a beast for all eternity. Your nights will no longer be your own. You will crave flesh like an animal.”

Her words caused an immediate transformation in the man. Her intended cried out in pain as fur covered his entire face, and his mouth and nose elongated, creating a snout. His body seemed to explode in width and height. His teeth were no longer those of a man but the fangs of a wolf.

The sisters appeared unaffected by the transformations taking over the men.

The man-wolf howled, confusion obvious in his eyes, and he, too, ran for the woods.

Julianne’s intended had evidently seen enough for he, too, began to run. Even if he had gained twice the speed, it would not be fast enough to escape Julianne’s spell.

She pointed at him, “You claim your excuse for unfaithfulness to the mindlessness that comes with drink, so you shall remain mindless. Always controlled by another. No longer will you have a mind of your own that allows free will, and you shall hunger for the bone marrow of the man you once were before engaging with that harlot.”