A familiar is a creature who sees into the depths of its witch's soul. It knows her fears, joys, frustration, and rage. It tames its mistress even as it makes her more powerful.
But what if it's a rat?
A rat is smart and resourceful. It has the ability to exist even in the most difficult of circumstances. It also eats garbage and spreads the plague, so there's a tradeoff.
There always is.
We made it back to the edge of the forest; the castle looming gloomily in the moonlight. We hadn't been eaten or poisoned or trampled, bitten, or attacked by rodents of unusual size, so overall, I call it a win.
On the other hand, the blister on my heel made every step torture, and the lump in my throat had grown so large I could barely swallow.
Leaving poor Vermin, Vinnie, Vermeil, or whatever his name was, shouldn't have made me so upset. I barely knew him, but there was this incessant feeling in my gut, almost like a cord tugging, urging me back into the forest. I didn't want to care. No way could I have a rodent as a familiar. Gross!
A rat familiar was like a billboard advertising me as a garbage-eating, plague-carrying denizen of the sewer. I'd spent a lifetime hiding the evils that lurked inside me and wasn't ready to unleash them now.
(Look, I know I'm supposed to be the evil queen and that the "evil" part is in the job title, but I had no intention of taking the job. I didn't want the job. And I really didn't want my dads to find out their daughter was a villain.)
The lump in my throat was also there because of Frekvic. What would happen to him when the queen discovered I didn't return with a familiar? He seemed confident it would be okay, but what if it wasn't?
Maybe I should've taken Vinnie back with me for Frekvic's sake.
But a rat?
No way.
Why did he have to be a rat?
Wait ...
Maybe I could turn him into something less ratty!
Like a cute unicorn, or a flying dragon with GPS and onboard snacks, or even a sexy vampire with sparkly skin and a face like a Greek god!
But I didn't know the first thing about transmogrification spells, and until I had a familiar to help focus my magic, I couldn't perform the spell even if I knew it.
I sighed. Being an evil sorceress was harder than I thought it would be.
A bell peeled, a long mournful tune that lingered in the chill air like an unwanted ghost.
"Lunch!" Frekvic called, trotting ahead. "Let's go through the garden. It's a shortcut."
We passed through an arched gate, thick poison ivy choking the posts. The air smelled of dark earth, and decay, and the homeopathic remedy aisle of the hippie store in downtown Coffin Ridge. Purple, blue, and white flowers poked out of their neat beds, which were painstakingly weeded. I bet if the queen caught a weed in her garden, there would be pain and stakes—pointy ones!
I could swear I saw the shimmer of a frothy haze of magic blanketing the ground, sticky threads dipping into the soil, urging the plants to grow. Could I actually see a spell? It was so subtle I wasn't sure if it was that or insanity finally setting in.
I recognized many of the plants from Dad's garden—beard's tongue, deadly nightshade, henbane, monkshood, and all the worts: spiderwort, lungwort, feverwort, and my favorite, white nipplewort because the name is just hilarious.
A rusty pair of nippers lay abandoned in the black dirt, reminding me of the newspaper article from this morning. The kitchen witch who'd disappeared. Would they ever find her?
And who might be next?
Please let it be Petronella!
And speak of the she-devil ...
As we exited the garden, Petronella stood waiting for us on the bridge wearing a white pantsuit, a long strand of black pearls, and a puckered expression that said: "you are a huge disappointment, and I ought to throw you in the dungeon for all eternity ... or longer!" She tapped her foot in her sensible grandma shoes, which kind of ruined the whole "I'm a badass look."
"Yer Highness!" Frekvic waved. The queen frowned.
Gusts of wind blasted us as we passed over the bridge, and my wild hair flew everywhere, including into my mouth. I tried to flick it away, but more hair went in, making me gag. While I was battling my murderous hair, Nellie leaped out of the surface of the moat like a humpback whale, her muddy-yellow body, covered in slime and kitchen garbage, shimmered in the moonlight. She slapped the water, showering us in the vile moat water.
"Hey!" I said, holding my nose as the water drizzled down my neck and back and front and everywhere else! At least my crazy hair stopped blowing and instead hung in wet ropes against my neck, bringing on a violent shiver. Nellie slapped the water again. "Stop that!"
"She doesn't respond well to orders," Frekvic said, water dripping from his beard. "Like some others I know." He gave me that not-so-subtle "I'm talking about you" look, then dug around in his pack, finally extracting another large bass. She breached again, but this time Frekvic tossed her the "treat" which she caught in her enormous, teeth, and splashed again, but less ardently, before sinking beneath the slime.
"You have failed me for the last time, gnome!" the evil queen spat, still tapping her foot. Naturally, she wasn't the least bit wet. Her white pantsuit was dry and clean, as was her hair. I needed that spell!
"Alas, your highness," Frekvic said calmly. He rummaged around in his sack and removed the grass bag he'd gotten from the mermaids. He opened it to display its contents to the queen. "I think you'll find a splendid pearl in each one."
"And you think this will keep you out of the torture chamber?" she said, jerking the bag out of his hands.
Frekvic winked. "Promises, promises."
Was he flirting with her?
Ick!
"I despise you, gnome!" she grumbled.
His eyes twinkled. "And here I thought I was your favorite."
Her Royal Evilness, who oddly didn't seem able to cow the gnome, set her sights on an easier target. Me. Her eyes locked onto mine, and she slowly folded her arms across her chest. "So? Where is your familiar?"
"No luck," I lied.
"Impossible," she said, narrowing her eyes.
Narrow away, witch! I'm an excellent liar. "Yet here I am without a familiar. Maybe you should send me and my dads home and find another heir."
"Maybe I should serve them for dinner with a nice chianti?" Petronella cackled.
"Your Highness! Your Highness!" Olivia sailed through the castle entrance, her golden hair flying in the wind, not into her mouth, but around her head like a supermodel at a photo shoot.
Olivia winked at me, then handed Petronella a newspaper. "It's the late edition," Olivia said, taking a step back. Then another.
Petronella narrowed her eyes at the front page, sparking waves of anger rolling off her, coalescing into lightning bolts and thunderclaps, which rented the air. Even the moon, as if fearful of the queen's temper, hid behind a cloud. Petronella's displeasure literally made the world darker. She tore the paper into tiny pieces and tossed it in the moat. Nellie rose to the surface as the pieces rained down, opened her maw, clamped down, and returned to wherever sea serpents hung out when they weren't dousing people with slime.
What could have made the queen so angry?
Obviously, me.
Maybe the newspaper found out about my familiar.
Petronella spun on Olivia. "No more newspapers!"
Olivia lowered her eyes. "Yes, Your Highness."
"I don't have time for this! My heir is a disaster! Just look at her! She has no familiar! And now another disappearance."
Olivia looked at me with something akin to pity in her eyes. "I could take Rowen to the spa and get her fixed up. I'm sure Your Highness's talented team of estheticians, manicurists, stylists, hairdressers, pedicurists, herbalists, masseurs, and chainsaw artists will do the trick. She must prepare for the coronation, anyway. If she looks like an heir, maybe the rest will come."
Chainsaw artists?
"I don't think she's ready," Frekvic said. "Shouldn't we get her a familiar first? It'll be safer that way."
"Safer?" I said. "The spa is dangerous?"
"'Tis! You should've seen what those ogres did to my beard!
Ogres?
Frekvic stroked his beard. "Not enough that they used those evil potions called shampoo and conditioner! But did they stop there? No! They braided my beard! A gnome with braids! My Mam would roll on Pappy's grave if she knew. Okay, she always rolls on Pappy's grave, but this time she would do it because she was upset about her son, not because Pappy was an old drunk who had a thing for garden sprites."
I laughed.
"This is serious," Frekvic said. "The spa is full of danger, and you're not prepared. You need a familiar to focus your powers in case there's an incident."
"I don't have a beard for anyone to braid," I said.
"Not yet," Frekvic said.
I scrubbed my beard-free chin. "It looks like you survived the ordeal."
"Barely! The braids tried to choke me during a mud bath."
"Stop!" Petronella said. "You're making my head explode. Olivia, take Rowen for a royal makeover! And do not fail me!"
"Yes, ma'am." Olivia curtsied.
"Frekvic, go to the torture chamber and await me while I deal with this latest disappearance."
"Yes, Your Highness!" Frekvic said gleefully.
Olivia wrapped her arm through mine and led me inside. She smelled like metal and oil, kind of like a car repair shop, but since I smelled like rotting fish, I didn't mention her ... uh ... 'Eau de auto mechanic' perfume.
I did not know what to expect in the queen's spa, but I had a feeling it would not be like Mia's makeover in The Princess Diaries.
Odds were, I'd end up looking more like a bearded sea serpent than a princess, not to mention a real chance my hair might finally kill me for real.
Terrific!
This is a shorter chapter. I was going to include the spa visit, but I wanted to give it more time and page space as the opportunities for comedy in a spa for witches were just too plentiful not to give it its own chapter!
Thanks so much for reading! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to vote and comment! And maybe tell your friends!
Dedicating this chapter to one of my OG Wattpad pals -rskovach In 2014, when I was posting Mermaids and the Vampires Who Love Them, she DM'd me telling me that my grammar and punctuation were excellent! (I think she thought I was a teenager!) That was our meet-cute. Over the years we've participated in contests together, she was a judge for my Under the Sea writing contest, we both competed in the Magician's Battle the Beast Contest, and we both won the Once Upon Now contest and had our stories published by Simon & Schuster in the Once Upon Now anthology. You can buy a copy on Amazon! She has gone on to win more contests and had her book The Last Resort also published by Simon & Schuster. So head on over to her profile and discover the joy that is rskovach!