The Vampire & Her Witch

Breakfast, once they started eating, was one of the most casual, intimate and delightful meals Ashlynn had ever had. The crepes were light and delicate and everyone filled their own with whatever they wanted.

Ashlynn felt like she was eating festival treats as she filled a second crepe with sweet whipped cream, fresh-cut strawberries, and a dusting of crushed nuts that added a mild earthy flavor to the treat that felt just as indulgent as Georg’s desserts.

”Watch out for dat bit, ma petite,” Jacques warned Heila as she browsed toppings for her savory crepe. ”Dat’s a sweet and spicy blend, de scotch bonnet, she’s de mother of sweet heat and she’ll burn your lips right off if you’re not careful.”

”Why do you eat such painful things?” Heila said, jerking her hand back from the berry and pepper chutney and giving it a look like it had transformed into a venomous snake. ”There’s no one to impress here by proving you can eat it,” she said, thinking of how Ashlynn had described Owain using spicy peppers as a contest of sorts among his friends.

”Because, because, Little Brother’s tongue is as thick as his tail and just as good at tasting things,” Talauia said while scooping up a large spoonful of the spicy chutney for her own crepe. ”If it’s not this hot, then he can’t taste anything at all.”

”Then why do you do it?” Heila said, still perplexed at some of the things Amahle’s coven considered ’tasty treats.’

”Because, because,” Talauia said, hiding half her face behind the crepe and giving Heila a mischievous look. ”Sometimes, I like the pain,” she said, flashing a smile that was full of sharply pointed teeth.

”Anyway,” Ashlynn interjected before the conversation could go any further down that road. ”Big sister,” she said, turning to Amahle. ”You said a witch needed three hats and the Hedge Hat is the first one. What are the other two? Or three? Didn’t you say I might need an extra one?”

”Just as nature isn’t just one thing,” Amahle said, loading up her own crepe with dark, juicy blackberries and an extra drizzle of honey. ”A witch is a person with many facets. A Hedge Hat is for working and foraging. It isn’t practical outside of that unless you’re like Tala.”

”Oh?” Ashlynn asked, giving the winged witch a curious look. ”Is it because you’re the Thistle Witch?”

”Nope, that’s not it, not it at all,” Talauia said. ”I get distracted when I notice useful things. It’s hard to go somewhere on my own without collecting at least half a dozen new ingredients on the way. Um, and, that’s why, that’s why, I’m also very bad at time,” she admitted, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

”But big sista Tala, she’s always finding de rarest of ’tings,” Jacques praised. ”If she spots something dat’s so distracting she can’t resist, four in five times, it’s something so rare dat I ain’t seen one almost ever. She spots tings better even den Maman does, non?”

”Tala does truly have a gift,” Amahle agreed with a wide smile. It had taken years to retrain that gift from spotting anything the winged witch might consider ’prey’ to spotting valuable flora and fauna alike, but once she’d gotten the knack for it, she’d become a frighteningly successful forager.

”But we’ve wandered off the topic,” she added, bringing the conversation back to Ashlynn’s question. ”The second hat you need is an everyday hat, what tradition calls a Traveler’s Hat. In the old days, witches spent quite a bit of time traveling, looking for people with the talents to join their covens or searching for other witches. Some of our traditions go back so far, I don’t think they were even written down, just passed on from one witch to the next.”

”Is there anything special about a Traveling Hat?” Heila asked between bites of her savory crepe. At her size, she normally couldn’t have eaten more than two, but after spending so long on the barren island for her trial, she was already eyeing the berries for a third crepe after she finished this one.

”Some witches put special things in their Traveling Hats, but I never saw the point,” Amahle said, using a spider-like limb to tap her own dark hat. ”Simple, comfortable, recognizable, and water repellant are all I cared about for my Traveling Hat. You can tuck a few things in it if you want, and it should absolutely reflect who you are as a witch, but it doesn’t need to do anything more than that.”

”Durable,” Jacques added around a mouthful of sausage-stuffed crepe. ”And easy to clean. Mine, she gets all kinds of dusty on de roads between here and anywhere.”

”Which is exactly the opposite of the sort of hat that I think you might need as an extra, little sister,” Amahle added. ”Most witches, we can’t be bothered with the burdens of ruling territory. I keep the Briar for myself but this is more of a large garden and a wildlife preserve than a true territory to rule.”

”Other witches take up the mantle as Eldritch High Lords or Great Lords,” she added. ”I think it’s a distraction, but when you have those burdens, there’s a need for a Fancy Hat, one that will impress people and holds up when paired with whatever grand outfit you need to wear. Since you’re the Seneschal of the Harbinger of Death who is herself an Eldritch Lord...”

”I’ll probably need one,” Ashlynn agreed. ”But, it’s just fancy, right? Nothing else to it?”

”It should be special, it should be extra, extra special,” Talauia said in a tone that was surprisingly emphatic. ”You never know, never know, when fancy people will betray you or surprise you. You can’t be defenseless just because you’re at a fancy party or, or,” her voice faltered as her amethyst eyes grew distant.

”It’s all right, sista,” Jacques said, gently reaching out with his tail and wrapping it around the winged witch to pull her closer. ”Dose people, dey can’t get you here, and dey’d never offend maman just to get at you.”

”I know, I know,” Talauia said softly, blotting the moisture from her eyes before it could roll down her cheeks. ”But Auntie Ashlynn, you know, don’t you? That you can’t always trust the people that come together at fancy places? Even when you’re supposed to be celebrating....”

”My husband tried to murder me when I was still wearing my wedding dress,” Ashlynn said, stretching across the table to clasp Talauia’s hand. For a moment, neither of them said anything, but as Ashlynn’s emerald gaze met Talauia’s amethyst eyes, both women recognized familiar ghosts lurking in the depths of their dark pupils. Ashlynn still woke from the occasional nightmare about the night she nearly died, and looking at Talauia, whatever haunted her was every bit as dark. ”I think I understand what you mean.”

”It’s good to prepare for a contingency,” Amahle agreed. ”When you have your hats made, since you walk a much more dangerous path than mine at the moment, you may want to hide a few extra things in your hat band or inside the cone. I hide a small wand in my hat when I’m going somewhere that might be dangerous but I’ve only needed it twice.”

”I hope my life won’t always be this dangerous,” Ashlynn said. Looking around the room, with the joyful family gathering and the cozy meal, it was easy to forget that Owain Lothian was preparing to wage war.

By this time next year, she would likely be embroiled in battles that stretched across the length of the border between Lothian March and the Eldritch lands. Whether he attacked the Vale of Mists first or tried to directly assault Airgead Mountain, there would be a day soon when she would learn how close the visions she’d been shown would resemble reality.

”As much as I wish that you could stay here and enjoy peaceful days for decades to come,” Amahle said with a trace of sadness in her voice. ”I know that your enemies will come for you, whether you make trouble for them or not. When they do, that’s when you and little Heila will need your last hats.”

”A Witch’s War Hat is meant for battle,” Amahle explained. ”Most are crafted from leather or other more durable materials. It’s a place to store some of your most powerful potions and elixirs that you need to keep handy, but more importantly, it’s a hat that you should cover with powerful totems and tools that can aid you in a fight.”

”You’ve seen mine, ma petite,” Jacques said. ”Dat time in de arena, de hat I wore was a War Hat. De feather in my hat helps give me speed I’d lack otherwise. De crystals in de band, dey store up a bit of de energy of de Bloody Sandbox Tree so I can draw on it wherever I go.”

”A good hat, she is like a whole suit of armor and a sword and shield combined,” he said, giving Ashlynn a look that called to mind their conversations about wearing armor while training. ”Before you leave, I’ll show you how I build mine, Auntie.”

”There are so many things that you need to learn, Little Sister,” Amahle said. ”I wish I had more time. The Hedge Hats will help you the most for the next few months as we prepare, but now that little Heila has become the Willow Witch, I want to put a stop to the fighting practice you’ve been doing with Jacques.”

”For the next month,” Amahle said, taking on the demeanor of a teacher speaking to her pupils instead of a sister or aunt talking to her family. ”It’s time that you learn about the fundamental tools of witchcraft. You’ve been doing far too much with your own energy or the pure energy of the world. It’s time that you learn why a witch on her own is a fearsome thing, but a witch who has made thorough preparations is a nightmare from which her enemies will never awaken.”