The Last Knight

Chapter 2: A Witch Named “Tell”

Bo was at her last straw. She was thirty eight now, with no children, no husband, no property and only a few measly pieces of silver to see her through the next few weeks, if she could even last that long. She had no other options left. She had used her looks and her body to hold her this far, but that option had died along with the man who had scarred her face. Now only the one dreaded option remained; visit her aunt and ask for help.

The small apartment building was old, even for this town, which was old enough; her aunt’s building still stuck out as ancient and dreary. The foundation was brick, not very unusual for this part of the world, but it was poorly maintained, almost leaning to the right from loose earth underneath. The windows seemed permanently fogged over, giving little view in or out, and the painted window sills and door frames were all different colors and degrees of rotten. It was a decrepit place in most respects, all except for the main lobby and entrance which seemed to exist in a whole other dimension from the rest of the building. With shining glass doors in golden frames, a marble flooring, a small booth for a doorman to sit at and attend the residents of the building, and the shining brand new elevator, one would think it was one of the skyscrapers from the big cities not some shabby apartment in a small town. These features always made Bo uneasy whenever she came to visit her aunt, which was rare.

“Afternoon Miss Erikson, will you be up to see your aunt then?”

Joe the doorman was a gentleman’s gentleman. He was always impeccably dressed in a dapper dress shirt and silk vest with a neat black tie, smiled politely, spoke flawlessly and was always calm and well mannered, no matter who he was dealing with; which in this case was a woman wearing a rather revealing cocktail dress, (which was stained with wine, and ripped at the top and hem, exposing ever more cleavage and thigh than usual,) with a massive gash, freshly stitched, running from her scalp to her jawbone and passing right through her left eye, which was now bloodshot and haggard looking.

“Yes Joe, is she in then?”

“As always Miss Erikson she was expecting you.”

Joe gestured towards the elevator door which opened as if on cue. This was all as usual, and it always added to Bo’s uneasiness. No mater when or why she came to visit her aunt, her aunt was always in and always expecting her regardless of if Bo had informed her of her visit or not. This; with the magic elevator and Joe’s out of place presence were quite unnerving, but Bo had at least come to expect them and had therefore learned to hide her discomfort.

She walked as gracefully as she could manage to the elevator and pushed the diamond shaped button for the fifth floor and the door closed in an instant.

Her aunt’s was one of two apartments on the fifth floor, both large sweets with her aunt’s facing out the back of the building towards the park and the river.

Bo fumbled for balance as the elevator doors closed and the machine moved upwards. She would never be used to such a thing. The whole notion of the idea was unnatural; a metal box that moved straight upwards with magic. Her aunt had told her it was through the use of old magic called “lectricity” that the machine moved…but it still made her uneasy.

Even the massive skyscrapers in that dominated the larger cities used portals, instead of these absurd “elevators” and “lectricity”. Portals could be trusted. They were known magic and could be well maintained by even the most minor of magicians. They also didn’t make her stomach rise into her throat when you used them.

The elevator made a “ding” sound as it stopped abruptly, which forced Bo to nearly fall over, then the doors slide open smoothly and the well lit hallway of the fifth floor appeared.

Bo adjusted her self, trying the best to reassemble her torn dress to make herself look more presentable and turned to the left towards her aunt’s apartment.

As she moved towards the singular door at the end of the hall the lighting grew dimmer with fluttering light bulbs, which again Bo’s aunt had informed her worked with “lectricity”.

She always felt that though the distance from elevator to her aunt’s apartment was quite minute, the journey always made her feel the most uneasy. The hallway grew darker as she moved forward, seemingly enveloping her like a dark mist and no matter how far down the hall she moved, whenever she turned back the hall looked perfectly lit and not a hint of darkness could be seen. Her aunt’s magic, she knew, was behind this, as well as the slight nausea as the hall seemed to twist as she walked. Her aunt’s magic was dark….but effective.

She reached the door, gave herself one last fix up then knocked three times on the old purple wooden door.

…

Kerrigan Moore, one of the greatest detective in the world, or so her often said, sat with her legs dangling off the rooftop staring across at the building the young woman had just entered.

She was criminal, or so Kerrigan had been told.

She may look like some simpleton whore but she’s a murderer. Cold blooded psycho is what she is. I have on good authority I do. Besides she’s on the run. Innocent people don’t go on the run. Innocent people go to the police. That’s a fact that is. No innocent person ever stayed innocent going on the run. It made no sense all that. That’s why she is assuredly guilty. Besides a man’s dead he is. Someone killed him and they all say it was her. Happy Larry, the bartender and also owner of Happy Larry’s said she killed the man. Happy Larry was a business man. He was a dependable sort of man. He pays his taxes on time and always gives me a free beer. If that isn’t dependable then such a thing must not exist, and I know it exists. I’m dependable aren’t I? If I weren’t I wouldn’t go around helping innocent people and catching criminals. Happy Larry is dependable and honest just as I am. If he says she murdered someone then she must have.

This building is odd though. Not the usual criminal hangout or escape destination. Usually lowlifes like to try to stay low, and this building is high. It’s higher than most if anything. Lowlifes stay low. That’s why we call them lowlifes isn’t it. It had to be. It makes too much sense for it not to make sense. That’s just logical thinking. All detectives have to think logically to solve crimes. Logical thinking leads to catching criminals. It’s as simple as that.

She must have a friend inside. That makes the most sense. She’s here to meet someone. Maybe she’s here to meet some sort of accomplice. If they hide her then they are her accomplice. Harboring a fugitive makes you an accomplice. If you’re innocent why would you harbor a fugitive? Fugitives are criminals. Only other criminals associate with criminals. That’s as obvious as it is. The only other people who see criminals are the police and victims.

Ah I almost missed that one. I almost forgot to examine the other possibilities. This building is high. Someone high up might live in it; people who live the “high life”. That’s why they call it the high life, obviously. Lowlifes hate people who live the high life. They’re opposites. Opposites hate each other they do. She’s obviously going to rob or kill another victim. This woman’s on a crime spree. She is a cold blooded psycho is what she is; going from killing one man to robbing or killing another. This just proves her culpability. Two crimes in a row committed by the same person is no coincidence. There’s no mistake now; she killed the first man. If she didn’t kill the first man that why is she running over to this part of town to kill someone else. Innocent people don’t go about killing someone for no reason. Even if she was wrongfully accused, improbable but possible, why would she go and kill someone else. That would just make her seem guilty. There’s no logic to it.

A window’s open. A woman sitting at a table is staring out in my direction. She couldn’t possibly be staring at me. I’m in disguise so how could she know what I’m doing? She couldn’t possibly recognize me if I’m in disguise and if she doesn’t recognize me there’s no possible reason she would be staring at me. This woman is insane.

It’s all so obvious now that I thought of it. This woman is insane in some way. No sane person simply stares out a window blankly for no reason. Only an insane person stares at nothing, because you can’t stare at nothing. Staring requires concentrating on an object, and nothing isn’t any sort of object so you can’t rightly stare at it no can you? She’s so obviously insane. There could be no other reason for her to stare out at nothing as she is obviously not staring at me. She is beautiful though. Insane but right beautiful.

I wonder who left this insane beautiful woman alone. She must be lonely. Perhaps that’s what drove her isnane. She once had a husband but her left or died, and now she is alone. Loneliness can make most anyone go insane. It isn’t healthy being alone too often; makes the mind wander something fierce. Wandering thoughts aren’t good for anyone.

Poor beautiful insane woman! Point of fact, she’s actually insanely beautiful. That must be where that term comes from. It makes too much sense not to be the utmost truth it does.

…

The woman staring at the odd creature sitting on the roof across from her roof was suddenly distracted by a “ding” sound from the elevator down the hall.

Bo is here.

She never let her gaze falter from the thing staring at her from across the street. It seemed oblivious to her gaze as if it were invisible. She probed out slightly with her senses and smiled to herself. It was a fool, and quite and insane and pompous fool at that. It honestly thought she couldn’t see it.

What a strange creature; although most of its kind were like that. Coops they were called. Men with crow heads and crow legs that seemed to share character attributes of both. Most were used as clerks or some form of office personnel, though some were used as private investigators or detectives; they had keen eyes and senses. Most she had met proved to be strange but rather unnoticeable, unlike this one. He wore a goofy fitting suit of plaid coloring and he crow legs were hidden under long pants and boots, how he wore the boots properly she didn’t know. He also wore a smiling clown mask which looked stupid and awkward sitting on the front of his beak and it was accompanied by large top hat.

Absurd little fool! I’ll leave you be this time but next time I might not take pity on you and your silly antics.

She heard a knock at the door, smiled and gestured towards the window where the blinds swiftly closed and the room changed around her.

The door opened slightly with a creak, though she knew no one had opened it, and Bo took a breath and entered into her aunt’s unusual dwelling.

Again the magic played tricks on the mind and the senses. The room was almost completely black, so much so that you couldn’t see the floor, roof or walls, yet certain areas were perfectly lit from some unknown spotlight and stood out like islands in a see of blackness.

Her aunt sat at a small table, her chair facing away from the entrance towards the singular window which had its blinds shut, on one of these well lit islands.

The woman had not turned to acknowledge Bo’s entrance but raised her right hand and gestured Bo forward. Bo took a singular step forward and found she was suddenly standing directly behind her aunt’s chair, her body almost pressing against the back of the chair.

“Glad to see you Bo…though I am sorry for the circumstances.”

Bo scowled down at the woman sitting in the chair. Her small dainty form was dressed in a slim fitting black dress, her blonde hair tied back in a pony tail while her bangs hung close to her eyebrows. Her perfect milky white skin gleamed under the light and as she turned her head to face Bo, her full red lips parted to make a beautiful smile.

Bo hated her aunt’s appearance. It was known that she was over five hundred years old, if not much older as her aunt often implied, yet she looked not a day over twenty and had perfect make up and dressed immaculately. She was the picture portrait of innocence, beauty and purity, though she was anything but.

Damned Magic Bitch!

“Language my dear! We are both ladies are we not?”

The little woman in the chair let out an impish giggle at her own comment and Bo ground her teeth in response. Her aunt ushered to the chair across from her which Bo begrudgingly sat in.

As she sat and faced her aunt she saw the beautiful light expression her aunt’s face darken and grow stern.

“He did quite a number on you I see.”

“I did more to him.”

“So I gathered. Did you mean for the dogs to eat his…well you know?”

“No…they just happened to be there. They smelled the blood. It did work out quite nicely though.”

Her aunt stared back at her silently, her expression blank. Bo clenched her fists and her jaw as she stared back at the woman, anger and rage rising to the surface. Her aunt then shook her head and smiled.

“My poor sweet Bo, what I life you’ve endured.”

“A little late for pity isn’t it Tell?”

“I prefer “Aunty Tella” like when you were little.”

“Well as you can see I’m not little anymore.”

Bo gestured to her exposed cleavage and torn dress, her scarred face covered in smeared whorish makeup, her bruised knees and swollen lip. Tell turned her head away slightly.

At least I can still get to the bitch.

“What did I tell you about language? Thoughts sting as loud as words my dear and I’ll have none of your gutter talk in my home.”

“Oh well excuse me Tell. I really am sorry for swearing IN MY HEAD AT A FUCKING WITCH!”

Blue flames sparked in Tell’s eyes for the briefest of moments and Bo’s mouth clamped shut and her head slammed flat against the table and her arms shot behind her back. Bo couldn’t move a muscle. Magic held her jaw shut and pinned her arms behind her back like handcuffs. She could feel blood pooling around her forehead and soaking her hair from hitting the table so hard.

Silence filled the room, Bo could do nothing.

Slowly her head was lifted by some invisible force and she felt a hot sensation on her forehead as the blood seeped back into the wound with the wound closing seamlessly.

Tell sat staring with a stern expression, which she then shrugged off and smiled as an aunt would to a mischievous child, an expression Bo had seen many a time when she was younger.

“You may be older Bo, and your figure may have filled out to every man’s delight, but you’re still that same little girl who you used to come and visit me when she got into trouble.”

A wine jug slowly floated out of the right corner of Bo’s petrified vision followed by two wine glasses. The glasses magically set themselves in front of Bo and Tell and the wine bottle moved fluidly to fill both glasses halfway then settled on the table. As it settled on the table, it rotated around so the label side faced Bo, a pleasant old man’s face wearing a monocle covered the label and the wine bottle bowed towards Bo as the man smiled and winked.

“See! If wine can be polite so can you. No more cursing, am I understood?”

The blue flames licked into life again for a moment and Bo mentally nodded as she was still paralyzed.

Whatever forced had held her lifted into nothingness and Bo returned her arms to her sides and stretched her jaw about.

“Wine? It’s some of the best that can be found. I guarantee you’ve had nothing like it before.”

Bo eyed the wine in front of her suspiciously. It was in constant swirl, changing from color to color and the most vivid fantastical colors she had ever seen. She then gazed at the wine bottle who still smiled at her, and then back to her glass, which she saw also had a smile on its face. It had no eyes or any other lifelike features except for the Cheshire grin ingrained the pattern of the glassware.

I’m sure I haven’t you old witch.

“I’m never quite sure whether you simply are forgetful of the fact that your thoughts are open to me, or if you simple do it to get a rise from me?”

Bo shrugged, picked up the strange glass with the colorful liquid and took a deep drink.

Bo’s was then bombarded by a luscious mix of tastes, smells and textures as she swirled the wine in her mouth then let the liquid slide down her throat. She tasted fresh blueberries, felt the warmth of a summer sunset, the smell of the ocean breeze, the feeling of standing under a waterfall, cherries, and a hand gently brushing her hair.

She gasped as she realized she’d been holding her breath in ecstasy and inhaled deeply to calm her nerves. She was sweating, her cheeks were flushed and she could feel her mouth fill with anticipatory saliva.

“I told you. It’s not like anything you’ve ever had.”

“What is this?”

“Wine my dear. A very rare and unique wine that only a select few have ever heard of, let alone tasted, but wine none the less. You like it?”

“I think I could give up sex for wine like this.”

Tell smiled at her, the blue flames always seeming to be hiding just behind her stunning violet eyes, waiting to be unleashed to cause havoc.

“Crude, yet all too accurate. In fact that has been the case for many who have tasted it, and not simply sex. Most who drink of this wine find life offers no new pleasures to them and they simply live off the wine in a drunken delirium until malnutrition and death takes them.”

Bo eyed the glass, still almost half full in front of her cautiously.

“But they were fools my dear, creatures bound by stupidity and lust…and you and I are no fools.”

Bo frowned.

“So the lesson is revealed, is that it Tell?”

“I’m quite sure I have no idea what you mean. I was simply talking about wine.”

Tell gave her most innocent smile, daring Bo to push her, but Bo had enough of Bo’s games for one day.

“Well it is good wine.”

“Indeed.”

Tell took a deep sip, inhaling through her nose as she did so, her eyes fluttering lightly then calmly smiled towards Bo. She had clearly enjoyed this drink before.

Bo took another sip and nearly fainted from the sensations filling her mind and she had to steady herself as she inhaled again. The room was beginning to sway slightly and her tongue felt heavy in her mouth.

Am I getting drunk already? I can’t be I’ve only had two sips of wine. Normally it takes one or two whole bottles to hit me this hard.

“It isn’t like regular wine dear. You should take a few moments between sips. It works fast, but the effects start to lessen after a few steady breathes. Eventually you’ll learn to simply relax and enjoy it and then you can drink bottles on end without feeling drunk.”

Bo stared at Tell, not sure if she was angry, afraid or happy to see the beautiful petite woman’s face. Though she looked younger than Bo, her mannerisms and her speech made her man years obvious. It was disturbing yet comforting at the same time, like a wise old grandmother and a younger sister all mixed into one.

Bo steadied her breathing and placed her wine glass on the table. She would drink after words, and oh would she drink.

“I need your help.”

“So I gathered.”

Tell’s face revealed nothing, one of her traits as a professional witch. She made sure the customer asked all the questions and made the choices of their own free will. Something about a witch’s code, if such a thing truly existed. Bo had often believed it was simply something her aunt said so no one suspected they were being manipulated, but Bo couldn’t help but suspect. You don’t get to be a witch, who looks twenty, for over five hundred years without some serious skill.

“I killed someone, a man. I can’t go back to work, or my home, or my old life. I have no life anymore.”

“He deserved to die. Most will see it that way and I’m sure nothing will come of it once they see your scar. Obvious self defense.”

“I can’t go back.”

“It’s the scar that’s the real problem isn’t it?”

Bo looked down at the table, her eyes burning near tears, fists clenched.

“Yes…I need you to fix it. I need your help.”

She stared up at her aunt; eyes misted with small tears, rage and self hatred filling her face and met the violet irises of her aunt’s eyes. She saw something she rarely expected, but always knew was there, from her aunt: compassion and love.

“You know how much it saddens me to see my beautiful niece in such a state. You have always been so beautiful. Had I not been preoccupied I would have seen to it that no harm had ever come to you. It was my failing dear and I’m sorry. I cannot however heal your scar.”

Tears spilled from Bo’s eyes. She knew it would be so. She had waited to long, the wound had been infected and stitched up poorly. She had waited too long.

I’m such a fool.

“Stop that this instant!”

Her aunt’s outburst had startled her and she saw tears beginning to form in Tell’s eyes, then they vanished as Tell flattened her dress and regained her calm smiling composure.

“You are my niece, and I am not related to any fools, therefore you are no fool. I cannot heal your scar dear, but I can heal you.”

Bo looked at her questioningly.

“You have been broken for a long time my dear, and again this is my failing not yours. I should have been there for you more when your parents died. I should have had you come live with me or seen that you had proper guardians instead of that horrid man and his imbecile of a wife. I should have never let you work at that…establishment. I have failed you my sweet and I intend to make up for it. I cannot undo what is done but I can promise you that, if you so choose, I can make sure that your life from here on will be far greater and grander than all that you’ve known. Much like this wine, what I offer, few have ever seen nor enjoyed, but the choice must be yours.”

“What choice? What exactly are you offering?”

“Why to stay with me of course, to become my assistant, my protégé, my apprentice and my companion. To live here with me and learn from me and experience all of the true wonders this world has to offer.”

“Live here?”

Bo eyed her surroundings, the blackness, the odd furniture and apparatuses that floated on their lit islands. She turned to her aunt her looked at her with a cool expression, seeming to gauge her reaction to her offer.

“If I do…stay, can I still choose to leave if I don’t like it here?”

“See I told you I am not related to any fools.”

Bo let a small smile slide from her lips in a moment of pride and victory, much like a little girl who had answered a riddle correctly.

“If you stay I shall teach you most, if not all that I know. The first lesson will be the truth of this apartment as you see it. If you stay you shall be able to leave whenever you like, though you must always allow me at least one conversation to convince you otherwise before you go. That condition is no negotiable. If this condition seems too much for you, you may leave now and take as many bottles of that wine as you like…however you will not be able to return. I have much business to attend to and I am sorry to tell you that if you choose to leave here today we will not meet again. Infer what you will from that.”

“So it’s now or never?”

“Yes.”

Her aunt’s expression was cold and hard now. Bo could tell that she really did want her to agree but that she was truly unsure of what Bo might decide. Bo was equally unsure.

To stay and learn the mysteries of her aunt and the magic she possessed. To see things few if any had seen and to experience and enjoy things beyond her wildest dreams. If this wine was any indicator of things to come then how could Bo refuse?

But if she stayed she might not be able to leave, much like the wine and its draw on people, she could find that her aunt’s life proves to be to alluring to ever let her go. Her choices were to escape and willing choose the life of an addict, drinking as much of the magical wine as possible until she drowned in it; or to stay with her aunt and become manipulated into another form of addiction.

She said she could fix me.

The thought was unwelcome, unlike the others which she had done on purpose to offset her aunt. She was always aware that her aunt could read her thoughts and so she often used this annoy the witch, but this one had come from somewhere else. It was her heart yearning for help, for someone to take care of her, something no one had done in a long time.

She looked back to her aunt and saw the woman turn away with tears in her eyes. She had heard her though but knew not to comment. Perhaps such a gift was more of a curse than Bo realized. Hearing everything everyone thought must seem quite cruel at times.

In that moment Bo’s mind was made up. Both choices contained their own flaws and risks, but outweighing all of that, was Bo’s urge to learn more of her mysterious aunt and the life she led, and maybe, to finally feel like she had a “home”.

“I’ll stay…Aunty Tella.”

Tell turned back to face her with tears filling her eyes, even her crying was beautiful. She let a great big smile go from her lips and gestured with her wine glass.

“A toast then my dear, to my apprentice, and to family.”

“To family.”

The two took a deep sip and this time Bo relaxed and let the wine take her, filling her mind and senses with so many beautiful tastes, sounds, touches and smells and through it all a warm feeling of love and embrace. She inhaled deep through her nose the whole time, drifting with ease then opened her eyes to see the room before her changed.

She now sat at a large dining room table, twice the size of the one she had sat previously, in a well lit room with beautiful golden flamed chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and ornate colorful furniture all around. In front of her sat Tell who smiled knowingly at Bo’s gaping astonishment.

“Welcome home dear.”

…

Kerrigan nearly fell off the roof as he was nearly blinded by a large flash that seemed to emanate from the building he had been watching. He cawed loudly and his tiny wings jutting from the back of his suit fluttered feathers about as he regained his position. His eyesight returned and he shook his head and turned to see the building he had been staring at was no more. It was gone in its entirety and in its place stood a small grass property with an odd food stall out front.

Madness! It’s gone! How can this be? Surely it was there moments before. I would not have been staring so keenly on something that wasn’t there if there was nothing there. It is absurd to think that I would be staring at nothing. There was a something where I had been staring, a building to be specific, and now that something has been replaced by a nothing. This is truly a mystery worthy of my prowess.

It is so fortunate I was here to take such a case so as to witness such a mysterious event. Only a mind as keen as mine could solve such a puzzle, and solve it I shall.

What is this odd little store front where the nothing/something used to stand? It seems to be a vendor of sorts. They must surely sell bloodworms or ice cream. These two items are a most favored dish among any sane person and for them not to sell such items would be utterly unimaginable. They would be a truly terrible business owner to lack such essential items in the wares.

Perhaps they are involved in this most obscure of mysteries. If they are they must be questioned. What better way to casually question this suspicious vendor than by acting as a patron? It is a flawless plan and filled with logic, and since I shall be playing the part of the patron I will obviously need to make a purchase. It would diminish my disguise if I did otherwise.

It is decided then; I shall purchase some bloodworms and Ice cream for the sake of solving this mystery. I am truly a genius!