Salem's Witches (Neitherlands Book 1), page 16
No matter how much she tried, Sarah couldn’t muster the empathy to feel bad on behalf of Salem’s plight. “It’s so sad you had to go through all of this, Sally… Meanwhile we were having the time of our lives, all three of us locked up in a tiny cell, being fed terrible food that was rumored to be poisoned, and doubting our fate day after day while being told we would never get out of there.”
“That’s true, y’all weren’t supposed to get out of there. How did you do it? Did you—”
“We got lucky,” said Veronika. “A wall blew up and we walked out. Which I guess makes us fugitives, and—”
“Fugitives!” Salem screamed the word as if it was a horrible slur. “And you think I want to harbor fugitives! Why did you all come here? Now I’m an accessory to jailbreaking. It’s only a matter of time until the press starts running articles on murder, arson, jaywalking and jailbreaking about me! This is ridiculous, why would you come here, I—”
“This was our office, you know,” said Laura. “And we thought you would be happy we returned. After all, that meant we could crack the case and clear our name.”
“The…the case? What case?” The parrotphone was twitching. “There is no case! Why would there be a case? You were found guilty and sentenced and all that after an anony— After the Dominatrix heard of your exploits! This is what you get when you hate on a church, they denounce you!”
Veronika frowned as if something smelled bad there. Sarah thought she was right. Something smelled downright nasty.
“You seem to know a lot about what went on, Salem,” she said.
“It is my job to know things, missy! After all I’m the proud leader of Salem’s Witch!”
“-es,” said Laura. “Witches, Salem. You remember the one lesson about plurals we had, a few months ago?”
“Shut up, Laura. I know what I’m saying. What I’m trying to say is that—”
“What are these people doing here?” A voice came from the doorway. It was thin, high-pitched, nasal, lisping, and just the perfect kind of annoying. “Sally, are you cheating on me?”
Veronika was the first to turn around. She was then greeted by a woman who was far too thin, small, tastelessly dressed, peroxide blond, ratty looking, and far too annoying to share a universe with her.
It was one of those rare occasions of loathing at first sight, the kind that eventually ends up in love stories, usually starred by the grandchildren of those who loathe each other.
“Who is this?” she said, unable to avert her gaze from the walking trainwreck of a woman who had just barged into her office. “Salem, what is this four-letter-woman doing here?”
Salem said nothing. He was probably too busy enjoying the scene.
“What do you mean what am I doing here?” said the woman, “and my name has seven letters, not four! I’m Stephanie, you see, and I’m better known by about everyone in this city as Salem’s Witch!”
Veronika gasped, and an instant of silence followed. It was broken by what sounded like popcorn munching coming from the parrotphone.
“First of all, somebody needs to learn to count. Or spell her name. Or both,” said Veronika, raising her voice. “Second of all, what the hell is this, Salem?”
“I was going to tell you,” said Salem. “You’re fired. All three of you.”
“What!” said Sarah.
“The hell?” said Laura.
“And you replaced me with this!” said Veronika, quickly ending the discussion and stepping right into yelling-at-each-other territory. “Salem, I knew you to be a stingy cretin, but this is just reductive!”
“What did you just call me?” Stephanie took a step toward Veronika. Another one. Then another one. And so on until she stood barely inches from her face.
Horizontally, of course. Vertically you’d have to add a few more.
“I said Salem is an idiot, and hiring you to replace someone like me can only be thought of as reductive,” said Veronika. “If one wants to keep the language from getting too vulgar, I mean.”
The pressure in the room was such that it threatened to burst the eardrums of everyone present.
“When did he hire you?” said Sarah. Veronika saw right through her attempts at changing the subject and found them just as reductive as the diminutive woman standing in front of her.
“Oh, about a month or two ago,” said Stephanie, ignoring Veronika for a moment and staring at Sarah. “I believe it was about a week after the scandal in the press about you lot being criminals.”
“Salem, is this true?” asked Laura. “You looked for a replacement right after we went to jail, with nary an attempt to free us?”
Salem said nothing, and the parrotphone had gone uncharacteristically silent.
“No, he didn’t do that,” said Stephanie. Her expression turned into the kind of grin mice see on cats right before they realize it’s the last thing they’ll ever see. “He contacted me a while before, I think a week before you lot went to jail? He said he was in dire need of new employees, because—”
“Salem!” Veronika yelled. She was fuming more than usual. “Salem, is this true?”
“What is true?” Salem said at last. His voice seemed to come from far away. “Give me a second!”
Veronika stared at the parrotphone. For Salem to not be right at its side was decidedly odd. “Is it true that you started looking for a replacement before we even went to jail? And what were you doing that you went silent?”
“Of course I did, my dear,” said Salem. “One always looks for replacements before firing the poor employee, otherwise you end up with a lot of work and nobody to do it.”
“You were going to fire us?” Laura approached the parrotphone and, for a moment, it seemed as if she was going to slap it.
“Indeed, what else could I do? I tried to keep you girls in the right way but you wouldn’t listen, always going against that poor church. Luckily for me, you girls ended up in jail before I had to fire you.”
“Luckily?” Sarah also came to the parrotphone, who stared at them pleadingly.
“Well, it saved me the stress of having to fire you. You girls have any clue how horrible such a task is?”
“We can’t even fathom it, Salem,” said Sarah. She went away from the parrotphone, who seemed relieved. “We should go, girls. Doesn’t look like we are welcome here.”
“Leaving already?” said Salem. “But I just went to my other parrotphone and called the guards! You need to stay! I really should put that parrotphone here. It makes it difficult to—”
“You did what?” Veronika used the kind of intonation mothers do right before throwing a shoe at their insolent child.
“I did what I did, so there,” said Salem.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room, while Laura and Sarah gathered their things in a hurry. Veronika remained impassive, staring at Stephanie.
“You should go, you know,” said Stephanie. “At your age I’d expect it won’t be easy to run from the guards, and you should be careful not to fall or you’ll break your hip.”
Veronika gave Stephanie the stare.
“Veronika, we have to go. We can’t pick a fight or we’ll end up in a tiny cell. Again,” said Laura, putting her hand on Veronika’s shoulder and pushing her toward the door.
Veronika sighed. She didn’t like having to postpone arguments or fights, they just didn’t feel natural days or weeks after the fact. “Fine,” she said, grabbing her things. “But let’s make one thing clear.” She stared at Stephanie. “Whatever you do, I did first. Wherever you go, I went first. No matter how much you do and what you may try to attain, I attained it first and you’ll never be me, or Sarah, or Laura. Understood?”
“Now why would I want to be old and useless?”
Veronika was quick to anger, and even quicker to act. Luckily, after so much experience with Veronika’s anger, Sarah and Laura had grown quicker still. They grabbed her before she had so much as a chance to jump on Stephanie.
Having to grab Veronika to keep her from getting in trouble was, after all, the one part of the job they had always felt they weren’t paid enough for.
Veronika thrashed and screamed, trying to break free to destroy that horrible little woman who had usurped her place. No matter what she did, her friends’ grasp did not soften, and she could do little but watch as she was dragged away from the object of her bottled anger and rage.
“I might have to go now, but I need to let you know before I do,” she said, likely because there was little else she could do but say things. “You may fancy yourself a winner right now, but it is not over until the fat lady sings.”
Stephanie remained there, staring triumphantly at the escaping trio. It was only once Veronika was done threatening her and the three crossed the doorway that she came over to slam it without so much as saying a word.
Even then she stood by the door, smiling and listening to the sounds of the trio running away. Wouldn’t it be beautiful if the guards caught them? Oh, but the siren seemed to be too far away still. What a shame.
9
Annabella woke screaming and drenched in sweat, a common occurrence as of late. With every passing day her nightmares became more vivid and her nights scarier. In this case, all she could remember on waking was something about a rabbit in a top hat eating cutlery.
She had even established a routine to calm herself after such dreams: She looked through the dark, barely lit room, making sure her nightmare hadn’t moved to the real world as she woke. She expected the rabbit to jump on her, but the room was silent and still, as most bedrooms would be in the middle of the night.
Except for the figure standing there staring at her.
Annabella jumped, almost sure she was dreaming again. Waking from a dream straight to another dream wasn’t uncommon, so she pinched her arm as savagely as possible to wake herself up, without losing track of the weird man just in case.
Blood oozed out of her newly made wounds, but she did not wake.
“I’m…” she said, once she figured out it was probably not a dream and she’d probably have some explaining to do when everyone saw her arms, “I’m not working right now. Could you just please, turn around and, you know, leave?”
The man stood there, impassive.
Annabella sighed. “Look, we have working times. I’m not working right now—I don’t think anyone is, actually. So I’m gonna need you to go or else I’ll have to call security and—”
“You don’t even remember me, do you, Annabella?” said the man. His voice boomed through the room.
Annabella stared at the man. He was standing against what little light there was in the room, so it was difficult to discern any facial features other than long hair and a thin, long, gross mustache. Annabella also didn’t need much light to discern his expression: It was one of disapproval. It was the kind of expression of disapproval you can see in a dark room, with your eyes closed, while the person giving it stands behind you.
“I don’t think I recognize you, sir,” said Annabella. Even if the face had rung a bell, the voice was one she had never heard before and hoped she would never hear again. It gave her chills.
“You spent years of your life talking drivel about me and studying the many ways in which I affected your life and those of others so you could recognize me and fight me, and now that you have me in front of you, you don’t know who I am?”
Annabella’s eyes widened. She tried, once again, to recognize him, this time with a clue so big a blind man wouldn’t miss it. She squinted then, trying to see it. She thought she could, sort of, see who the man was.
The man looked exactly like Xianuu, yet…not quite. There was something uncanny about him.
“Are you really Xianuu?” She had never quite believed in Quackology. She had never expected Xianuu to visit her. But then again, she had never expected to die and wake as the living dead, so her standards on what to believe had dropped quite low.
“Of course I am, you fool. Now get up. We have a world to take over and—”
“What?”
“I said we have a world to take over and a church to destroy. I’m here to appoint you as my spokeswoman in this world. You’re tasked with destroying the Church of Quackology for smearing me.”
The nonchalance with which Xianuu spoke scared and baffled her simultaneously. “But you saw me with the Quackologists, smearing your name. Why would I join you now? Plus, I don’t even believe in you! Why are you here?”
“Belief is a funny thing. You see, I’d only need belief if I didn’t exist. But I do, so what’s it to me if you don’t believe in me? I’m still here. And you will do as I ask.”
“Why?”
“Quackology brought you here to this house of debauchery. I would expect you’d have a score to settle with them.”
“I do, but…” Annabella thought of Peter Howard. The old man had created a crazy cult out of thin air, led thousands of people to false beliefs, taken away their money and riches and turned them into his personal slaves.
He had also given her shelter and food, and protected her when nobody else would, even when he owed her nothing at all. It was a difficult decision.
“I don’t want to destroy the Church of Quackology. I have no quarrel with them. As long as they leave me be, I’m happy to leave them be.”
“Really?” Xianuu still stared at her reproachfully. It was almost as if he only knew that one stare and couldn’t possibly use another one. “How did that approach of yours work last time? Didn’t they find you and send you to that ship?”
Annabella was cornered. “They did, but…” She had nothing to add, of course, because it’s difficult to argue in favor of someone who took you hostage and put you on a ship where you died.
“But what? But you still love poor old Peter Howard, the fool who started it all and who did nothing to protect you when he could? Wake up, child!”
“I have no quarrel with him, and no intentions to destroy that which he has worked on for most of his life.” It felt awkward to say such things to defend a man who was, in essence, a con-man. But that’s the kind of thing that happens when that con-man is also an excellent father figure.
If you ignored the part about conning people.
“And do you really think you’ll be doing him a favor?” Xianuu hadn’t moved at all since Annabella first saw him. In fact, he seemed to speak without moving his lips. “Child, you should be aware he’s not long for this world. After all, you do know of someone who’s dying to have him… die.”
Annabella’s otherwise quite demeanor heated up in an instant as she jumped out of the bed. “I don’t think he would—”
“Chase you through the city and put you on a ship to die?” Xianuu laughed. His lips still didn’t move.
“I’m not going to destroy Quackology, Xianuu. You don’t even exist.”
“This isn’t about me existing or not, here I am so I must exist. It’s about what you’ll do, Annabella. Do you know what will happen if you do nothing? LeFlay takes over the Church of Quackology. You used to be first in the line of succession, but as we’ve seen, he already got you out of his way. Who do you think is next?”
Antoine LeFlay. The man whose love for justice came not out of a sense of morals, but out of a not-at-all-concealed love for administering it himself. She had known all along he wanted to take over the church, of course, but…what could she do? She always expected things would just work out fine.
“Will you trust that man with that power? And let’s be honest, after all you’ve gone through…don’t you think revenge is in order?”
Annabella smiled. Revenge sounded nice and sweet. And who had said she couldn’t have Peter spared? Sure, if she fought a war in the name of Xianuu and won, the church would be destroyed, but she could see to it that Peter survived. He had let her live once; she could do just the same for him.
She could make a policy out of it, repaying every single thing done to those who had done it. Specially to the bearded, caped rat.
“Do I even have a choice? Don’t I have time to make it?”
“You’ve already made it. From this moment on you’re the Champion of Xianuu, here to let people know of the evils of the Church of Quackology and the goodness of Xianuu, Grand Creator and Emperor of Everything That’s Good In This World.”
The man threw an object at her, and she grabbed it mid-air. It was an amulet, thin and circular in shape, with concentric circles all the way to the center. More importantly, the man hadn’t actually moved his arms when he had thrown the amulet.
“Now I must go, Annabella Bostwick,” said Xianuu, “but do remember, I will be there when you need my power, and together we’ll rid the Neitherlands of the blight that is the Church of Quackology…and Antoine LeFlay.”
Xianuu disappeared into thin air, leaving Annabella alone in the room. She found herself alone in the room, except for a crow perched outside the window looking in. The poor bird was probably looking for shelter from the cold.
It could freeze for all she cared. She’d heard those things sometimes poked people’s eyes out, and she wasn’t going to risk her own.
She had no clue what to do. Was she supposed to run out screaming and let everyone know she’d just seen Xianuu? She decided against it, for such an act would only land her in a madhouse. But then, what? Xianuu had spoken of revenge, which sounded good aimed at LeFlay, but it risked Howard.
No, it didn’t. She had already thought about that. She could perhaps, with Xianuu’s help, gather an army and use it to destroy Quackology. She could also find a way to protect Howard from being lynched. That would be ideal. And those out there who weren’t a part of Quackology often hated it, so…
Annabella put the very much real amulet on her end table and went to sleep again. If she was to destroy a church, it would be better done after a good night’s sleep.
