Page 121 of Catastrophe

Is it the present or future?

A scream of rage echoed around the room, shaking the chandelier over the table. A man’s scream.

Swallowing nervously, I peeked around the door, and in the center of the room, Fafnir raged.

Fafnir punched the sofa, battering it until wood poked through the fabric and springs and filling poked through holes in the ruined seats. Spittle wobbled on his lip as he bared his teeth and panted with exertion. His eyes flashed wildly.

He was terrifying.

It was then I noticed the defected witches also in the room, lining the wall like soldiers that flinched as his gaze landed on them. One had a clear resemblance to Mary, so I assumed it was her sister, Alice, and she sobbed into her hands.

“Stop your incessant crying, woman,” He roared in her direction, his hands gripping the sofa as though he might launch himself over it and silence her himself. “It is not you who should be crying. It’s me. Years of work and centuries of planning are all ruined.” He screamed again.

Alice did her best to hold back her sobs as she said, “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just … Mary is dead. A hunter murdered her. We couldn’t even retrieve her body as we escaped.” She sobbed into her hands and the women on either side of her tried to muffle her sounds.

Fafnir straightened, and his eyes narrowed. “I wondered where she was. What makes you believe it was a hunter? Have you researched the cause?”

“What do you mean?” An older witch asked hesitantly.

“The hunters did not like you, but tolerated you for my sake. They wouldn’t murder in plain sight of their leaders. The escape of the witches and the presentation …” He ground his teeth, unable to continue talking about how terribly his presentation went. “I know there was interference from an eternal source.”

The defected witches exchanged glances. “How should we look for answers? We cannot-”

His anger boiled over and he shouted again, “You are witches and you know the ways of dark magic. I taught you everything I learned. I gave you the ability to do the most powerful spells, brew the most deadly potions, enchant objects, and yet you cannot use your minds to solve a problem so obvious. You look to me as your leader when I too am grieving a loss and I have no patience for you.”

The witches simultaneously bit their lips and clenched their hands together in the face of his fury, but one brave soul took a deep breath and, with a trembling voice, said, “Sir, there’s no spell to turn back time.”

“Turn back time?” He repeated incredulously, then he roarer, “turn back time? Are you so dim? Who said anything about turning back time?”

“What-what would you have us do then? We are at your service.”

“Must I do everything?” He rubbed his head and sighed. “Gather the candles, a knife, salt, and something of Mary’s, which she treasured.”

Within a few moments, they had finished racing around the rooms, moved the destroyed sofa back against the wall and created a salt pentagram on the ground. They sat around the outside, awaiting instructions from their master. He took the knife and sliced his hand, letting drops of blood fall into the center of the star as he mumbled something indecipherable.

He passed the knife to the witch on his right and they followed his lead, doing exactly as he did, and it continued until the knife returned to Fafnir. He laid it out in the middle of the circle and then placed a ring on top.

I recognized it. Winnie had given it to Mary for their anniversary. Just seeing it made me want to growl. How dare she treasure something from the woman she murdered?

But I couldn’t focus on it for too long because the ghost of Mary appeared, hovering over the star in the center of their circle like a translucent version of the last time I’d seen her. Even down to the leather boots.

She looked around, unsurprised and smug, as she smiled and said, “I’m glad to see I’m missed.”

“Of course you are,” Alice exclaimed, jumping from her seat as though to embrace her sister.

“Quiet,” Fafnir interrupted and pushed her back down. “We have little time. Tell me who killed you.”

“Clawdia,” Mary growled, and I shivered at the mention of my name. I knew she had already spoken of me to Fafnir but I don't want him knowing much more. I held my breath as they continued to talk.

“The familiar?” Alice gasped.

“She snuck into the compound to rescue her soul pair. They are the first of their kind, very powerful. I’m not sure what he controls but she retains her ability to shift from human to cat. She is the reincarnated soul of your ex wife.”

“My dead wife ruined my plans?” Fafnir asked in a calm voice which set my hair on ends.

She shrugged her ghostly shoulder. “It seems so.”

“And who is she working with?” He asked quickly. “I saw a male descendant with them in the warehouse. Is he the dragon?”

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