The Purple House: Chapter Five

This is how I die, at the hands of a nasty witch.

Credence felt like a doe caught in the eyes of a wolf, but fear drove her adrenaline, and adrenaline enhanced her instinct. Before she could understand what she was doing, she pulled from the power in her aura, the angry drink of the moon, and focused it into action.

She didn't know the curious hand movements Lilith used, but she had an idea, as ridiculous as it might seem. She brought her pricked finger to her lips and bit it, sucking fresh blood into her mouth.

The fire would reach her in seconds.

She pulled her fear and energy into her mouth too, and the combination of blood and terror and dark power swirled between her teeth, bitter and pungent.

Time slowed for Credence.

She inhaled deeply, using her hands to direct the night air into her lungs.

The light of the orb's fire illuminated her face.

She pushed everything out, the blood-soaked fear and anger and power—and released a fierce scream.

It wasn't a shield, but something far more effective. The only attack she knew, the same one that sent the Collector into the trees. It had been a wild hope that she would be able to replicate it. It blew a terrible wind across the distance between her and Lilith. When it hit the blood orb it snuffed the fire instantly, and the trees behind and around Lilith bent so far back that Credence thought they might snap in half.

Lilith braced herself, trying to hold to the ground and remain upright, but she was knocked back, and pieces of her clothing were ripped from her body, and several small cracks opened on her exposed skin.

The roar of Credence's scream died with a faint echo, replaced by a chilling silence.

It was over in a few blinks, but the effects were devastating.

Lilith was on her back, groaning and bleeding.

Credence did not go to her.

I owe that witch nothing, she thought bitterly.

After a moment Lilith picked herself up, grumbling and hissing in pain, and when she approached her apprentice Credence could see thin lines of blood running from the holes in her head; her ears, her nose, her eyes, her mouth. Across her arms and neck were fresh cuts, and what was left of her skirts was little more than shreds of cloth.

Credence stood in silence, dumbfounded by her power but not wanting Lilith to see her disbelief. The old witch stumbled towards her, and for a second Credence thought she intended to strike—but Lilith walked past her, heading into the house without a word.

Let the harpy say something now, Credence thought smugly.

Lilith paused.

She turned and shot Credence a look that may have killed a lesser creature.

"If you don't learn to control yourself, you'll topple the whole damned forest," Lilith scoffed. She groaned in pain. "Useless, dim-witted stump." She turned back to the house.

Credence smiled behind her back. Lilith was being spiteful—but she finally admitted that Credence had power.

Credence had bested her.

Why should I withhold my power, Credence thought, if one scream was enough to put you on your back?

"Tomorrow you'll fetch every last stich of what blew away," Lilith snarled over her shoulder, spitting blood with her words, "or I'll have your skin for new skirts."

She slammed the door behind her, presumably going to bed.

Credence stared at the silent woods.

Had Lilith known her apprentice was capable of such magic? Had Credence actually overpowered her teacher in their first lesson on battling? After what happened, would Lilith agree to continue giving instruction—

Did Credence even need a teacher?

These are the thoughts of too much pride, a voice in her head warned, sounding eerily like Ma. Don't let them linger.

The voice was right. Credence had accomplished something great tonight, even if Lilith wouldn't admit it. She had every right to feel pleased with herself, but the slope of pride was dangerous, and all too easy to slip from.

And should she be proud of creating something so destructive? Something harmful?

Exhaustion fell upon her and Credence made her way inside, eager to find her bed and lay her head down. As she climbed the stairs, her conscience scolded her.

You should have helped Lilith from the ground, even if she refused it, even if she is cruel—you forget your own kindness too quickly.

She had taken a step, however small, towards the darkness.

Worse yet, Credence was ashamed to admit, even to herself, that she'd felt more powerful and comfortable in that singular moment than she had ever felt in anything else.

***

The precious hours of night were wasted and Lilith's mood was sour.

Her body shivered from the pain of a thousand cuts, but her pride stung worse. She toddled up the stairs towards Credence's room, malice urging every step, her intent focused on hurting what had hurt her.

Revenge.

She reached the door to Credence's bedroom and pressed her ear against it, listening for the sounds of movement. When she heard nothing, Lilith moved her hands in a pattern and whispered an incantation. A small window opened in the door, allowing Lilith to see inside. She would have no secrets in her own house, and had already used the spell many times to spy on the girl. Even if she had been awake, Credence wouldn't know she was being watched, but she was deep in rest, her body rising and falling with the relaxed breathing of dreams. Lilith considered giving Credence nightmares, but she pushed the urge away.

She could not risk waking Credence.

Lilith withdrew a brass key from her pocket and slipped it into the lock on Credence's bedroom door, turning it slowly until the small click signaled the door was bolted from the outside. Lilith peered through the window once more, to ensure Credence hadn't been disturbed, and when she was satisfied that she had gone unheard, she waved the window away and moved on.

She stopped in front of a door in the downstairs hallway and muttered a few secret words. The door shivered before cracking open. Lilith pushed past it and was welcomed by the sight of hundreds of bottles and bowls and boxes haphazardly spread throughout several shelves and tables, each one of them shining with their own unique hue. There was movement inside every container, but it was not from beings that were alive. They were moving images, vivid and bright, that played until they reached their end—then immediately restarted on a continuous loop.

Lilith moved with swift purpose, plucking a small, squat bottle from a shelf. She held it close to her nose so she could better see the tiny, peculiar play-show within:

A trio, two men and a woman, conversing before a grand throne.

She didn't care to watch the entire scene, having memorized it years ago. The bottle disappeared into her pocket and she left the room, muttering the secret words to seal the door. She was still bleeding from the cuts on her arms and legs, but the blood had stopped pouring from her head, followed by an angry, pounding ache. Lilith paid it no mind, used to agony in her bones, and began a fire to brew tea. She made two cups, one with a healing mixture and the other with a blend that could subdue a furious giant into tranquility.

No harm in trying, Lilith thought as she poured boiling water over the herbs. She set the cups on a silver tray and brought them outside. With a wave of her hand two knotted stumps pulled themselves from the ground and Lilith took her seat on one of them, placing the silver tray atop the other. She held the cup of healing tea to her lips, and sipped it contents while she waited.

"Come now," she said to the trees. "I'm no fool. She called you tonight and I know you heard."

Lilith had wanted to hide the girl for a little longer, but now she had no choice.

The woods answered with a rush of cold wind and the ringing of bells.

Undisturbed, Lilith slurped her tea.

She was not startled when the wind grew fierce, and the sound of boots hitting the ground mingled with the bells.

"No need for costumes with me," Lilith called to the wind. "I prefer you to come as you are."

From the trees stepped a creature in feathered robes, its horse-like skull wet and gleaming under the moonlight. The bramble-wrapped lump beneath its blackened ribs pulsed, vomiting ichor at a steady rhythm. As it moved, a thick trail stained the ground behind it.

Lilith gestured to the other cup. "Made you some tea."

"I have no thirst," the Collector replied, though the skull didn't move.

"Sit with me," Lilith said, moving the silver tray from the second stump and patting it. "Let us talk."

The Collector moved closer but did not take a seat, choosing to loom over the witch.

"No need for threats amongst friends," Lilith said curtly.

"We are not friends. You keep what's mine locked away."

"Easy enough to break my walls, isn't it? Unless something holds you back, of course." She gave a nasty cackle before setting her cup down, suddenly all business. "You killed the Queen?"

"No, I cannot."

"Incapacitated her, then? She'll no longer interfere with the woods?"

"Yes."

"What about her court?"

"Dead or imprisoned."

"In your tree?"

The Collector did not answer.

The healing tea was working its magic, and Lilith's skin prickled as it knit back together. She relished in the pain for a moment, and when her body was finally restored, so too was Lilith's boldness.

"I would like to see it some day. I imagine a marvelous prison teeming with wonders. Such stock would be very useful to me." She paused. "What about Galeia?"

"Gone."

"By your hand?"

"Yes."

Lilith clucked her tongue. "When it happened...I thought I felt a tickle. And I knew it was only a matter of time before trouble came knocking on my door. Did you take her bones, by chance? The bones of a sister can do many wonderful—"

"I do not care about your sorcery."

"But I intend to use it for your purpose. Or, if you don't want it, I could use it against you."

The Collector lashed out, grabbing Lilith and throwing her into the field like a doll.

Lilith stood, unfazed, but the Collector pushed her back onto the dirt and crouched over her body, digging a sharp, fur-covered knee into her shoulder to hold her down.

Black bile dripped onto the witch's chin, and she had a thought to flick her tongue out to taste it.

"We have our own revenge to settle," the Collector whispered. "Be grateful I have not come for you."

Claws squeezed around her throat.

"Kill me," Lilith rasped, "and she'll stay locked behind my walls until she rots."

The Collector released its grip.

Emboldened by the fact that she was still alive, Lilith continued, "You made quite the impression on her. She's frightened of you, but she's also...intrigued. Saw it myself in her memories."

With a slight struggle, Lilith's hand darted into her pocket and withdrew the bottle she'd taken from the locked room. She held it between them so the Collector could see the moving picture within.

"What is that?" the Collector asked.

"A gift to prove my friendly intentions." Her thumb released the cork with a soft pop and she held it next to the Collector's maw. "It's yours."

The Collector tensed but did not pull away, and Lilith carefully tipped the bottle to its side, spilling the image, which moved like water, over the Collector's long fangs. A sudden, cold air blew over her, and she watched the Collector's shape twist and turn, wrenching itself and growing skin. Before her eyes, it took on the appearance of a man. Lilith sat up and looked him up and down before grunting in approval.

"Almost forgot that face."

"What spell is this," he whispered.

"Just a helping hand. One of thousands. Now, about Credence—"

The Collector's eyes darted up to meet hers.

"I know who she is," Lilith said, nodding her head in the direction of her house. "Hit her with a bit of tonguewood when she arrived and the whole story came spilling out, secrets and all." Lilith chuckled. "I swore to Galeia I would protect her children. But Galeia's dead, not that I feel any loss for it, and the dead cannot hold to their vows, so why should I?" She smiled. "I've no intention of keeping the girl from you."

"You lie."

"I've no intention of keeping her from you for long. The way I see it, there's no reason we can't both come out of this satisfied."

"What do I care for your desires?"

"You don't, of course. You shouldn't. But I care about my desires, I'm the only one who cares. I care for yours, too, if that's any consolation."

"What's your proposal, witch?"

"I want a place in court, and high up, too. Fancy myself a noble, thank you very much, for all the service I've done."

"Is that all?"

"I want access to your collection, to supply my stock when I wish it. You've got things there any witch would trade her fingers to obtain."

"It's not mine to give."

"Ah, but you can help in the convincing, can't you? I don't care how it gets done, and I don't mind waiting." Lilith hesitated. "I also want Galeia's bones. Show me the way, and I'll collect them myself. Lastly—"

"Your price outweighs the deal."

"Does it? Is she not worth it?" Lilith waited but no response came. "My final request is to continue the girl's education of magic, to have her as my apprentice so I can set her path towards the dark ways. I've already begun it, and I will not see my work wasted."

"You dare ask me to give her to you, so you can twist her?"

"As you once did," Lilith whispered. "But you've forgotten who showed you the path to power, haven't you?" Her courage growing with her words, Lilith stood up and the Collector didn't move to stop her. "This very night she displayed a hint of her true nature, and what a sight it was!"

"She was born to it," the Collector replied. "Power begets power."

Lilith winked. "Let me help shape and grow it, let me put her on the course to grasp her own glory."

So I may use it, Lilith thought but didn't voice.

"I do not mean to keep her," she added. "I only ask that she returns to me from time to time."

The Collector weighed the options before him.

"I have a task for you," he said at last.

"Ask and I'll give freely."

"I do not ask, I command."

"Good to hear you remember a sliver of what I taught you."

"She's been told many lies. You will correct them. Where Galeia failed to prepare her, you will succeed. When the sun falls tomorrow I will return, and there will be no hesitation in her heart. By your guidance, she will accept her destiny."

Lilith gave a nasty grin.

"I will. She will."

"You will henceforth address me as Master, and remember your place not as my equal, but as a subject to its ruler."

Lilith gave a small curtsy.

"Your will, Master."