BOOK TWO IS READY FOR READERS!
***You will find the book on my profile.***
I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for reading!
Bedtime Story Book Two: Journey of a Girl
The Purple House: Chapter One
(First Draft)
The moon was high and the night still young as Credence ran through the woods.
She didn't know where she was going, but she trusted in Isolam's words that what she sought was ahead.
She stumbled over logs and rocks, falling hard many times, but fear drove her on, even as her arms and legs began to bleed from several scratches given by the dark forest. She would run all night if she had to, she'd run clear out of the woods if it meant getting away from the Collector.
The beast, the vile demon. Images of its monstrous form flashed through her mind, biting into her courage.
She heard the call of the Collector's minions, wicked beasts prowling in the night.
Roused, she feared, to find her and drag her back to their master.
Keep running, her mind screamed, no matter what roars at your back!
She cleared the trees and found herself in a moderately-sized meadow, a unique patch of soft grass surrounded on all sides by the woods.
In the distance, moonlight lit the familiar shape of a roof and walls sitting atop a small hill. The sight spurred her on though she feared she might collapse from fatigue before reaching it.
Desperate in her haste, she didn't stop upon approaching the house, but slammed into the faint outline of its door, and the sudden impact of her head crashing against wood made her stumble back, dizzy. She fell upon the door once more, beating furiously against it, screaming to catch the attention of whatever dwelled on the other side.
It was only then that she realized the door was purple.
A very specific shade, if she could tell in the limited light.
Credence took a step back, taking in the walls and roof.
Purple. The shade of Ma's book.
She might have been mistaken, or it could have been another trick of the night, but it did not matter now.
The only concern was that the door opened to let Credence inside.
"I seek the master or mistress of the house!" Credence called over and over, returning to the door to strike it. "Please! Help—please!"
There was rustling from inside, and a woman's voice called out.
"Who's that? Sprites?!"
"I'm a girl—Credence!"
"Human?"
"Yes!" The howling and chattering of night creatures was growing closer, the sound of leaves being trampled underfoot loud behind her. Credence looked over her shoulder and saw the tall grass of the meadow moving back and forth, as a long, unidentifiable shape slithered towards her.
"Please, let me in!"
The voice behind the door snorted. "Sounds like the lie of an imp."
"My Ma—she sent me to you! You're my aunt!"
Silence.
Credence whimpered and braced herself for an attack.
The door cracked open, and a grizzled face half-hidden in shadow peered at her.
"I'm your...what?"
A wave of exhaustion and relief washed over Credence, and she clutched the doorframe for support.
"Galeia's...child..." Credence panted, then added once more lest the woman hadn't heard, "Credence..."
The door opened fully, and standing in its place was a squat old hag, shorter than Credence by a head, her face a mass of wrinkles and her expression sour.
"You know Galeia?" she asked skeptically, looking Credence up and down several times.
"Her daughter..." Credence sputtered, "please...they're after me..." The call of an animal echoed her words.
"Galeia's daughter, eh? Should've said that sooner! Come on in now, 'fore the wolves et you."
The woman grabbed Credence's shoulder and pulled her roughly inside, slamming the door behind them and twisting numerous locks to secure it. Credence had no other thought than to catch her breath, and went obediently as the woman guided her to a chair in front of a small fire.
The woman stood back, watching unimpressed as Credence panted and gasped, waiting perhaps a little too long to offer the girl water, as if she'd forgotten a host's manners.
"You're in a spot," she said without a hint of care, handing Credence a mug of water at last, "mind tellin' me why you're knockin' on my door in the dead of night?"
The woman grabbed the empty mug from Credence's hands, not moving to offer a second, and waited for a reply. Credence took another moment to steady her breathing, as the old woman grew no less impatient, until she finally calmed enough to explain herself.
"Thank you," she said, but the old woman snapped at her.
"Save your thanks, girl! Answer my questions!"
"Ma sent—Galeia sent me to find you. I've been looking so long—"
"Why would Galeia send her daughter to me?"
"She said you would keep me safe until she came for me."
The woman snorted. "Prove it."
"Prove what?"
"How do I know Galeia sent you, huh? How do I know this isn't some trick?"
What trick? Credence thought with mild irritation, but held her tongue. The old woman shook her head.
"Got no proof, you'll go right back outside—"
"No! Wait! I have proof! I have—" Credence searched her skirt pockets for Ma's book, but was horrified to find them empty.
Had she dropped it, in her haste to get away from the Collector?
No. She'd left it behind when she went dancing in the woods. Credence could almost laugh at her foolishness. She'd kept the book so safe and secure, and now, perhaps when she needed it most, it had been carelessly left in the woods, probably still sitting by the lantern and fire, in a spot she would never see again.
Ma's book was gone. All her wisdom and guidance and spells...
Lost forever.
When Credence pulled empty hands from her pockets the woman nodded grimly.
"Just as I thought—now get up."
"There's something else! Another way!" Credence searched the frenzied chaos of her mind. Then it hit her. The gift she could never lose.
"Look at this!" Credence rolled up her sleeve to reveal the skin symbol Ma had given her children before sending them off.
"Ma gave it to me for protection. She did it herself!"
The old woman grabbed Credence's arm and pulled it sharply to her face. She produced spectacles from a hidden pocket in her clothing and slapped them over her eyes, then inspected Credence's arm, her mouth hanging open like a dumbstruck child.
"This mark..." the woman whispered.
Without further explanation she threw Credence's arm down and scurried away, but not before pointing a long, gnarled finger at Credence and warning, "Stay where you are."
Credence took this moment alone to look at her surroundings. She was in an entryway that opened into a long hallway, where several closed doors stood quietly on either side. The house had not seemed very big when she was outside, but Credence assumed the dark had obscured her vision, and her attention had been focused elsewhere. She counted six doors, three on each side, which was more than Credence had ever seen in a house before. She wondered if the house had two floors to it, something she had only heard of in stories of rich nobility.
On the walls hung several faded and ancient portraits, every face inside them painted with an expression of agony.
Was this really the house at the end of Ma's map? Had she finally reached the strange aunt that Ma had only bothered to mention right as she was shuffling her children into the woods? The one she and Josiah had—
Josiah.
A rush of sadness took hold of her, and she couldn't keep the tears from falling.
She'd lost Ma's book, but worst of all she'd lost Josiah. Her tears turned into quiet sobs, and even though the fire was warm, Credence shivered.
"Stop those tears, child," the old woman reprimanded behind her. A small iron pot landed with a heavy thud beside Credence's feet.
The old woman poured water into the pot, then set several small vials next to it. She tore the top off of a pink vial with her teeth and poured its contents into the water, which turned pale and murky. She spat into the pot and it bubbled, and she quickly added the contents of two more vials before turning to Credence.
"Your hand," she demanded, and Credence blankly offered it to her. The old woman withdrew a pair of sharp scissors from her pockets, and before Credence could protest she slashed a thin line across Credence's palm and held it tightly over the pot, squeezing several drops of blood into the concoction.
"May I know your name?" Credence asked quietly, hoping to provoke a friendly response from her host.
"Hush, girl," the woman hissed, her eyes focused on the pot, then after a moment she mumbled, "Name's Lilith. Be still, and let me work."
Credence remained silent as Lilith wrapped her palm with a cloth and added a stick of cinnamon to the pot. A thin vapor rose from the concoction and Lilith bent over to inhale it.
"Grant me eyes to see," she whispered as the vapor flowed into her nostrils.
When she opened her eyes Credence gasped to see that they had become the same color as the contents of the pot—a pale shade of green. Lilith moved to Credence, inspecting her like an animal for purchase, touching her hair, her arms, her feet, her skin symbol.
"Give me your story," Lilith commanded, but held a finger to Credence's lips to silence the girl. It would not be words that told Lilith all, it would be Credence herself. This strange ritual continued for a long while, with Lilith getting increasingly impersonal, sniffing at Credence's ears and licking a long stripe across her wrist with her gray tongue. Credence tensed as Lilith touched and poked at her, but was determined not to provoke her anger, knowing all too easily the woman could throw her back into the night.
Ma had warned that she wasn't a kind person, and the key to staying in her good grace was remaining respectful.
Credence thought of Isolam fighting the Collector, and wondered if the buck had been victorious. She thought of the Queen of the Wood, who had been protecting Credence all this time from afar, and who may have fallen because of it.
Guilt crept into Credence's thoughts. She felt responsible for the deaths of so many. Pa. Josiah. The Queen. Isolam.
All for the sake of her.
For the sake of nothing, Credence thought bitterly.
And what of Ma? Had she reached the towns? What could she—
"Stop your incessant thoughts!" Lilith snarled. "You'll wake the damned wood with all your thinking!" Credence tried to concentrate on nothing, but it was near impossible to do for longer than a few seconds.
At last, Lilith stood back and looked at the girl, and her eyes had returned to their normal brownish color. She put her hands on her hips, as if she expected Credence to say or do something.
"That's quite a tale you've spun," Lilith said, though she seemed unconcerned by any of it. "Seems you were speakin' the truth after all. Galeia's your mother, so I am your aunt."
It was a strange admission. Ma was a beautiful woman, with a kind face and pleasant demeanor.
Lilith was the exact opposite.
It almost felt like a cruel joke to compare the two, much less believe they were actually sisters.
Still, Lilith was family, the only other member Credence had ever met.
Possibly the only family she had left.
Credence started to move for a hug but stopped herself. Lilith did not seem the sort of person who touched anyone out of love.
"Are you a witch?" Credence asked instead, hoping conversation was the right way to befriend one such as Lilith.
"Obviously."
"I'm sorry, but Ma never told me about you. Did you grow up with her in the woods?" Lilith's eyes grew wide at the question, then she threw her head back and released an ugly cackle.
"Grow up with her?! No, child! Never seen her a day in my life except when I was born."
"But you're her sister."
"Don't have to grow up with someone to be their sister, dim-witted fool. It's blood that ties a family, not a childhood."
Credence remembered something Ma had told her, about her life before the Queen and Pa. Ma's real mother had been a dark witch, who had bore Galeia through blood magic, intending to raise the child as her disciple. But Galeia had turned from wickedness.
So her sister—
"Took her place," Lilith replied bluntly, reading Credence's thoughts. "Aye, child I'm here where Galeia should have been. A strong, dark witch." She smiled unpleasantly at Credence, showing a mouth missing many teeth.
"But...she said her ma died when she was a baby. How did you—"
"What do I need a mother for when I've got all her books and spells around me, eh? Taught myself, and made my mother's soul proud." Lilith spat on the ground. "I curse Galeia for running off. But I did good without her, anyways, oh yes, I did."
Nasty witch, Credence thought and Lilith cackled.
"Got your blood on my tongue now, girl," she said with a wicked wink, "means I got your thoughts, too. You best be keeping them nice and grateful on me now, or I'll throw you at the Collector's feet myself."
"Why don't you?" Credence asked, suddenly angry. "Seems a dark witch would serve a dark master."
"I serve no one but myself." Lilith pointed a finger at Credence, its long, brownish nail almost touching the tip of the girl's nose. "But don't think twice that I won't give it a gift, if you give me reason to. So, Galeia wanted me to keep you til she comes to fetch you, eh?" Lilith's eyes glimmered with a hint of wickedness. "Never said how long that might be, did she?"
"No."
" 'No, marm'. "
"No, marm."
"Well I won't keep you for free." She rubbed her chin and scratched at the long stray hairs that sprouted from it. "Could use a servant girl, though. Could better use an apprentice."
The notion sickened Credence.
"I'll not practice dark magic!"
"Then you'll lay before the Collector!" Lilith roared, growing tall and threatening. "And let Galeia fetch what it leaves of you, if she can!"
Credence stood from her chair, defiance etched across her face, her fists balled tightly. Lilith did little more than blow a small breath from her lips, but it sent Credence back into the chair with the force of ten hands pushing her.
"This is my bargain, child," Lilith hissed, "I can mold you into a powerful dark witch, or I can send you running into the woods with naught but evil at your back." She raised a thin eyebrow. "Well? What's it to be? Me? Or out there?"
Emotions swirled inside Credence. Rage, despair, terror. She was angry at Ma for sending her to this house, for thinking that Lilith could be trusted.
Yet...
Ma wouldn't have sent Credence somewhere if she didn't think she could survive.
Perhaps she had intended for her daughter to learn something here.
"Aye, you're thinking clearly now." Lilith smiled. "Galeia knew my power. Knew it was strong, and could serve you well if you were smart enough to listen."
Credence relaxed slightly, as resignation doused the fury inside.
Perhaps one day I'll be powerful enough to defeat the Collector, Credence thought, but not before teaching this hag a lesson in manners.
"You will most certainly try," Lilith whispered with a dark smile, "and I welcome the night you do."