The Last Witch

Asher sprang into motion, taking the stairs two at a time as he tore towards the sound, Navarre close on his heels. The crowd parted as he rushed through, the faces turned toward the source of the noise, though none were moving. 

It was a small boy at the centre of the commotion. He couldn’t have been more than five or six years old, with a mop of sandy hair and the aged frills of a peasant’s best clothes. Tears streaked down his red face, and as a ring of people crowded around him, his lip wobbled. Asher waved the closest ones away, then knelt down in front of the boy. The boy sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. 

‘Are you alright?’ Asher asked. ‘What happened?’

Fresh tears streamed down the boy’s face. 

‘He can’t find his mother,’ a woman in the crowd said. 

‘Is that what happened?’ Asher asked. ‘Are you lost?’

‘It was the monster,’ the boy said. ‘The monster took her!’

A deep chill ran down the length of Asher’s spine. ‘A monster?’ he echoed. 

‘There’s some stall over there selling wooden carvings,’ the woman said. ‘A lot of the kids are afraid of them.’

‘Ma’am, please.’ Asher signalled for her to be quiet, and she huffed. 

‘It was real!’ The boy stamped his foot hard against the ground. ‘It was real! I saw it! It took mama!’

‘Okay, it’s okay,’ Asher said. ‘I believe you.’

‘I was hiding from it, and mama told me to get out of her skirt, so I did and I went behind the shop and I saw the monster.’

He’s just been separated from her and panicked. That’s all this is. Asher couldn’t bring himself to believe the thought. ‘Are you here with anyone else?’

The boy shook his head. 

Asher scanned the crowd, and his eyes fell on Navarre and Norrah standing on the edge of the commotion, watching him. He pointed Norrah out to the boy. ‘See that lady there?’ he asked. ‘She’s a monster fighter. The best in the whole kingdom. Do you want to stay with her while we find your mama?’

The boy stared up at Norrah with wide eyes, then rushed forward and threw himself into her legs, disappearing into the folds of her skirt. Norrah stroked at his hair. ‘We’ll go to the Town Hall,’ she told Asher. ‘I’ll let the other guards know there’s a lost boy.’

Asher nodded as she turned and lead the boy back through the crowd. The crowd stayed in their strange stasis, each of them glancing over each other as though the missing mother was somewhere amongst them. Asher found himself scanning the faces as well. Surely this woman would realise the child wasn’t with her? Even if she hadn’t, she would soon enough. 

Everyone here is going to die.

He considered for a moment what it would mean for this to be the worst case scenario, if what happened to Valenda was the start of a chain reaction that would now come here. Did it start this way, with uneasy feelings and people slipping through the cracks one by one? Or was this simply a case of a boy being pulled around by a hectic crowd?

The latter. Of course it was the latter. 

Asher got to his feet and brushed himself off, considering the market around him. Finding a singular person in this was going to be impossible. He needed to start where the boy said it had. A questioning glance to the woman in the crowd pointed him towards the stall in question. Navarre quickly rushed to catch up. 

‘Need a hand?’ he asked. 

‘Wouldn’t hurt,’ Asher said. 

He noticed the two guards in the crowd again, and this time the male approached. 

‘I need a few more of yours on the ground,’ Asher said. ‘A couple of eyes, nothing to serious. The sooner we handle this, the less it’ll blow up into something serious.’

‘Do you think it could, sir?’ the guard asked. ‘Turn into something serious?’

‘I don’t want to take that chance,’ Asher said. ‘I know I’m not your Lieutenant, but I’ll explain myself when she gets back. We just need to keep things calm until then.’

The guard saluted then rushed through the crowd and towards the town hall. Asher pushed on. 

The stall in question wasn’t hard to find. It sat firmly wedged between two produce tables, all of them pressed up against the closed off buildings on the edge of the market. This one was a simple table with a white awning, and the surface was covered in crude figures of wood and metal, all of them a mismatch of toys forced together by fire and glue. Asher picked up one near the edge and took in the details. None of it was in proportion. The base suggested a bear up on its hind legs, and its paws were raised as if to come down in attack. The head had been removed and replaced with a smaller head of a human, with thick metal needles bursting from the back of its head as hair. The back legs had been melted together and lumped onto two sticks that might have been the feet of a bird, but it was impossible to tell. 

‘Wow, no wonder the kid freaked out,’ Navarre commented. He picked up a toy of his own and wriggled it towards Asher. ‘I know what to get you for your birthday at least.’

Asher rolled his eyes and placed the figure back down. The shopkeeper watched them both, a bemused expression on his face. He was an older man, all bone and sinew, with long, stringy limbs and a neck that seemed too narrow to hold up his head. Only a few wisps of hair still clung to his pockmarked head. Dark eyes locked onto Asher as his grin spread wider. 

‘Did you see a boy and his mother here before?’ Asher asked him. 

‘Seen a lot of boys and a lot of mothers today,’ the man said. ‘None of them strange or unusual.’

‘So the young boy screaming just now,’ Asher said. ‘You didn’t see what that was all about?’

The man shook his head. ‘I heard it if that’s what you mean. Seen a few tears today too. Not what you’re looking for though.’

His grin widened, flashing white teeth, and Asher shivered. 

‘This isn’t something to laugh about,’ Navarre said. 

‘I agree,’ the shopkeeper said. ‘Laughing is only for games. Do you like games, Lieutenant?’

‘Alright, that’ll be all for now,’ Asher said. He turned away from the stall, then grabbed Navarre to pull him away as well. Navarre stared after the man at the stall, frowning. 

‘There’s definitely some odd characters around,’ he mumbled. 

‘Something doesn’t feel right,’ Asher mumbled. 

‘Do you think there are actually monsters?’ Navarre’s voice had a teasing edge. 

‘No,’ Asher rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t insult me.’

He scanned the crowd around him. If the mother was still in the market, wouldn’t she have noticed by now? Even neglectful parents put on a facade a lot of the time, and drawing that kind of attention had alerted everyone in the whole square. If he believed they were simply separated, the longer no-one came forward, the more it seemed she wasn’t in the market at all. 

‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’ Navarre asked. ‘She had to have noticed the commotion.’

Asher grunted in agreement. ‘We should pull up a few more guards, or some of the volunteers, just to expand out into the streets.’

‘I say we get a few in these alleyways, so people start using the main streets,’ Navarre said. ‘Stop anyone trying any--’

A hand grabbed Asher’s arm and yanked hard, making him stumbled. The woman who had grabbed him was red in the face, and tears were openly streaming down her face. With her other hand she wrung a cowl tight in her fists. 

‘Sir, please.’ Her voice shook. ‘I can’t find my baby. I’ve looked everywhere.’

Asher breathed a sigh of relief. ‘It’s okay, we found him. He’s up at the town hall.’

The woman’s brow creased in confusion, and her grip on his arm tightened. ‘No, no that’s... my daughter, sir. My little girl. I can’t find her. She’s only three. Please. You have to help.’

Something tight and painful twisted Asher’s stomach hard, and he exchanged a glance with Navarre. ‘Alright, where did you see her last?’ he asked. 

‘We were looking at the cakes.’ The woman’s voice rasped as tears choked the words. ‘She wanted to walk, and I don’t usually let her walk, but she had hold of my hand and when I let go I pointed to a cake she wanted and I put my hand back down and she was gone.’

‘Okay, we’ll find her,’ Asher said. ‘She can’t have gotten far.’

‘Take yourself up to the town hall,’ Navarre said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which she took with a small thanks. ‘The duchess is organising the town guard at the moment, and she’ll pull together a few boys for you. We’ll look in the meantime.’

The woman nodded, and Asher noticed one of the guards in question approaching. He guided the woman towards the woman in uniform, who took her by the shoulder and began mumbling small comforts. Asher scanned the market, and spotted a bakery table not far from where they were standing. 

‘Alright, I see what you mean about bad feelings,’ Navarre mumbled. 

‘Believe me now?’ Asher asked. 

‘Don’t get smart. Let’s just deal with this.’

Asher pushed over to the bakery store, noting all the cakes and pastries lined up in a glass box, the glazed surfaces and small piles of fruit on top, the creams and the jams and the dollops of chocolate. His mouth watered at the sight. There was a plump woman with a shock of red hair behind the table, her dress and apron covered in flour. 

‘I already heard you,’ she said. ‘There’s no little girl here, but you’re more than welcome to come back here and have a look around.’

Asher complied, stepping behind the counter and lifting the tablecloth to check under the table. Boxes and crates sat piled in a mismatched collection behind the woman, and he searched over and around each one for a tiny body. The baker woman watched him with her hands on her hips. 

‘I believe you,’ Asher said. ‘But these kids can get into everything and anything, and it only takes a second. I just want to check every corner.’

‘Don’t gotta tell me,’ the baker said. ‘I got three of my own.’

There was no sign of a child anywhere. ‘You’re not missing one, are you?’ he asked. 

The woman shook her head. ‘Wouldn’t know. Father has them today. I heard the screaming if that’s what you mean. It wasn’t one of mine.’

Asher nodded and stepped back out onto the road. ‘Keep an eye out for me, please.’

As the woman agreed, Asher turned and scanned each person that passed, but he didn’t know what kind of person he was even looking for. Navarre was lifting the tablecloth of the nearby tables, and when he noticed Asher he rushed back over. The air around the market had changed. It had become languid, sombre, and everything had slowed to a dull shuffle. It wouldn’t be long before people decided it was safer inside and started leaving. 

He rushed into the next street and spotted the male guard from before, talking to an older couple who were gripping each other with white knuckles. As Asher approached, they both shied away and hurried off. 

‘New plan,’ Asher told the guard. ‘If people are going to start leaving or moving away, then I want a headcount. Have everyone join with the people they arrived with, and if everyone is accounted for, they can go past one of the guards you’ll station at the street exits. If not, they move to the Town Hall.’

‘I don’t know if we have the numbers for that, sir,’ the guard said. 

‘Pull in a few volunteers,’ Asher said. ‘I just want to make sure that if people are leaving, they’re leaving with their whole party. Otherwise the place will clear out and we’ll have no chance of sorting it out.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the guard said. ‘Should we also follow Lady Norrah’s orders to be on alert for suspicious characters?’

‘Yes,’ Asher said. ‘Are there any updates on that end?’

‘Only that the old couple just now lost their dog,’ the guard said. ‘And they were concerned.’

‘Concerned about the boy?’ Navarre asked. 

‘About one of the stalls, sir,’ the guard said. ‘Apparently the owner has been scaring the kids all day. More than a few people have complained about him.’

‘Oh, let me guess,’ Navarre said. ‘Little figurines of ugly little monsters.’

‘That’s the one, sir.’

Asher rubbed at his eyes and dismissed the guard. He watched as the man approached another uniformed officer on the corner and relay the information, before disappearing into the crowd. No-one else seemed out of place around him, no-one seemed lost or looking for something. Yet, the air was growing heavy. 

‘You still seem stressed,’ Navarre said. 

‘I think I have a good reason to be stressed,’ Asher said. 

Movement flickered across the corner of his eye, and he turned to see the hooded stranger crossing between the stalls. The stranger paused, and those burning orange eyes locked on to Asher, before he turned and disappeared around the corner. Asher shouted after him, then rushed after the fleeing cape, coming around the corner to see no figure even similar to the man with burning eyes. Instead, he saw the stall with the monster figurines. 

He blinked, and glanced around. Somehow he’d been turned around, though he couldn’t place the direction he’d taken to end up back here. The old man continued to smile at him, still with that mocking, bemused smile on his face. 

‘I’m warning you to cut that out right now,’ Navarre growled. 

The man didn’t say anything. He didn’t stop smiling either. 

The bakery. There was no bakery down the path. Not on either side. There were no cakes or glass display, no baker. He could have sworn they weren’t that far away from one another. 

‘You look stressed, Lieutenant,’ the old man said. ‘Perhaps a quick stop will put you back in sorts.’

‘No, thank you,’ Asher said. The ground was beginning to tilt beneath his feet, and he felt lightheaded. The baker had been right there, only a few stalls down, and now there was no sign of her or her stall anywhere. 

‘What’s this about you bothering the people here?’ Navarre asked. ‘Got anything to say?’

‘I am not talking to you,’ the shopkeeper said. ‘I am talking to the Lieutenant.’

‘Answer his question,’ Asher ordered. 

The old man didn’t. Navarre frowned and grabbed Asher’s arm. ‘You alright?’ he asked. 

‘Yeah.’ Asher shook the light-headedness away. ‘Just the excitement. I think we need to regroup.’

‘I would much rather you stay,’ the shopkeeper said. ‘You seem an interesting study.’

Asher blinked as another wave of dizziness washed over him. The ground was tilting more violently now. ‘What are you talking about?’

The man’s face smiled more obviously at the question, warping the skin of his face as it stretched to an impossible length. He then lunged over the table. ‘You smell like the gatekeeper!’

Asher recoiled, but when he blinked the man was standing normally behind his stall, still watching Asher with that same tight smile. A normal, non-tooth smile. 

‘What are you doing?’ Navarre hissed in his ear. 

Asher glanced down and saw that his hand was locked around the hilt of his sword, and it had been partly pulled free of its scabbard. A few people had stopped to stare at him. Not at the man throwing himself over the table, but at Asher. The figures spread across the table hadn’t even been disturbed. He shook his head frantically, pushing the fog from his brain, and he locked the sword back into place. 

‘You need to start answering our questions,’ Navarre snapped at the shopkeeper. ‘We will arrest you on suspicion of harming the kids. Or being a public nuisance.’

‘You will not,’ the shopkeeper said. ‘The Lieutenant and I are about to start a game. It is rude to interrupt.’

Before Asher could argue, the toothy, wide grin stretched across the old man’s face again. It grew wider, then kept going. Gums and teeth split across his cheeks, until his mouth had curved around to both of his ears. The teeth kept spreading through the gap even as the hole had nowhere else to go. Welts of blood appeared on his cheeks and along his jaw, then burst open as those same teeth broke through the skin, growing long and pointed. 

Asher could only stare. Everything around him fell into a dulled haze as he took in the monster before him. One of the needle-like teeth punctured his eye, stabbing through the surface and stretching towards his brow. The remaining eye fixed on Asher, watching him. Asher swallowed, but no air would go down. He could hear his blood roaring in his ears, but his legs wouldn’t move. No part of his body would move. 

‘We don’t want you interfering.’ The man spoke, but the grotesque gash that used to be his mouth didn’t move. The voice came from somewhere deep in his throat, underneath the horrifying visual. ‘You came to interfere. And you brought the gatekeeper. Naughty, naughty boy.’

‘Asher, what’s gotten into you?’ Navarre grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn away from the monster. The other man was staring at Asher, his brow low and knotted in confusion. He wasn’t staring at the monster. ‘What are you doing?’

Asher turned back to the stall, and cried out when he saw the monster was still there. Still watching him. It leaned forward, hovering over the table and reaching closer. A bloody mess of gore and tissue dropped from the remains of it’s eye and onto the table. 

Asher drew his sword, pulling it free in one swift motion and thrusting it towards the creature. His hands shook. His whole body shook. 

‘Asher!’ Navarre cried. 

The monster continued to stare. 

‘What is this?’ Asher demanded. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Asher, what are you doing?’ Navarre tried to pull Asher’s arm down, but Asher refused to budge. ‘You’re losing it!’

‘How do you not see it?’ Asher cried. No-one else was reacting, no-one else was looking at that thing at the table. They were all staring at him as though he had gone mad. Except it was real, and it was right there, even though Asher couldn’t comprehend how. 

‘Look at you, so frightened already,’ the monster said. ‘You will be fun to break.’

The monster stepped through the table as though it wasn’t there. It straightened and stepped towards Asher, passing through the solid wood without so much as a twitch of its muscles. Asher gripped his sword with both hands, his breath echoing out fast and shallow. The blade wouldn’t do anything. It wasn’t designed to do anything. The monster came closer. 

Asher backed up, jerking backwards to put some space between him and the abomination. His foot hit a loose stone, and with a cry of alarm his feet flew out from under him, throwing him down onto his back hard enough to knock his teeth together. He scrambled back, ignoring the shouts and curses as he crashed into the stall behind him. 

The gash across the monsters face opened then, revealing a horrid black abyss beyond the teeth. Asher scrambled back onto his feet as a large, bulbous tongue flopped out of of the monster’s mouth, rolling out and down until the thick, solid mass fell to the ground. The stones hissed and bubbled around it, turning to a black liquid. 

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. 

Navarre’s voice cut through his terror. ‘Asher, look out!’

A clawed hand wrapped around his arm, and as Asher noted the too long fingers, the smoke rising from his coat at the touch, it yanked hard. Asher fell again, the force ripping him beneath the tablecloth, where darkness swallowed him and he kept falling.