Page 25 of Beneath Hoof and Hollow
“Physical form take?—”
“Sing it. The magic is in your voice,” Fierdoninterrupts.
Starting over, I turn the spell into a song.
“Physical form, take root in this soul.
Fill blood,sweat, and organ within this black hole.
Bone, bits, and bud sit the altar to thee,
In exchange grant before us a fresh new body.
Deep in the earth, pull the glow from below,
And onto this man, let a body now grow.
Re new in bastha, en bastho bellem thnen
Re new hem astra go neen gol niathen.”
The ground splits before me, roots ripping forward to snatch the snake bones and offerings, dragging them beneath the earth. Fierdon bellows, dropping to his knees. Those same roots shoot up from the ground, spilling out around the summoning circle like a wave, growing in height before descending upon Fierdon and swallowing him whole. He vanishes beneath the mass of roots, completely wrapped up until the outline of his body has thickened, arms spread wide, like a birch branch doll. His anguished sounds morph and extend, twisting into wails.
I reach for him. The moment my fingers hit the border of the summoning circle, a searing pain crackles up my hand. The wind howls, the ground shudders. I can’t see Fierdon beneath the mass of roots. I can only hear him, screaming as if he’s being ripped apart.
Without warning, the mass ignites. Fierdon issues keening shrieks as he’s consumed by the blue flames.
I’mscreaming too. Watching him burn alive, listening to him beg for help. My heart hammers, pinging between my ribs and spine as panic surges through my every cell.
This can’t be right. What did I do wrong?
The fire burns brighter before extinguishing completely. We’re plunged into pitch black. A thick cloud of grey smoke shields Fierdon from my sight. He’s quiet. Have I killed him? He was a demon, not a man. Surely it would take more than the fumbled spell of a naive woman to put him in a permanent grave.
The next gust of wind that rushes past takes with it every last bit of smoke. My eyes adjust. Fierdon is standing very still.
His features come into focus. I gasp, covering my mouth.What have I done?
His clothes have vanished. In place of black fabric, I find green skin. Such a deep green. My eyes trek across the expanse of earthy color and vine-like veins that cover his overly muscular body. A flame ignites near his new face. No,inhis new face. In place of a human head sits a massive orange pumpkin. Its features have been carved into a menacing grin. Orange fire burns beneath the triangular eyes and jagged smile.
A pumpkin man. He’s turned into a pumpkin man. Oh no, no, no,no.
Fierdon’s hands tentatively slide across his new body. The gentleness in the touch shifts, turning panicky and frantic as he realizes something is not right. His root-tipped fingers reach his pumpkin face and halt their explorations.
We’reboth too shocked to speak. Silence tethers us together, pulling taut and snapping when Fierdon opens his mouth.
“What have you turned me into?” Fierdon’s new voice is deeper. Goosebumps rise along my skin.
I have no idea what to say. How does one inform another that they’ve become a green and orange pumpkin monstrosity?
“You’re no longer headless.” I swallow.
“A fucking jack-o’-lantern?” He rips the pumpkin free from his shoulders.
“No!” I scream. He’ll die without a head, he…he’s still standing.
The jack-o’-lantern frowns. He places the pumpkin back on his head. Vines reach up from his shoulders and neck, securing the pumpkin back into place. Whoa, he was able to remove the head and put it back on.
“Emeline,” he growls. With an angry carved face, his words are much more terrifying.
