Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Emeline
“Bones of a serpent. Fat of a hanged man. Seed of life.” I read through the ingredients, ensuring everything is accounted for. I’ve been working on preparing the circle and gathering items for hours.
A splat sounds as Fierdon drops a pile of yellow-grey goo in front of me. “Oh my.” I eye the substance. “What is that?”
“I heard you mumbling about the fat of a hanged man. Thought I’d make myself useful and procure some.”
“Oh, thank you.” I shove the previous pile of fat out of the way. I’m impressed he found some. I’d brought chicken fat, hoping the spell didn’t have to be too precise.
“Is that animal fat?” He perches his hands on his hips. “You were going to wing it?”
“Well I didn’t have access to a hanged man so I was doing the best I could. Hold on”—I eye Fierdon suspiciously—“where did you get this fat? I’m not aware of any recent male hangings.”
“Yes well, I had to make do. Found a Lamb’s Golden Light member skulking on the edge of the woods just after sundown. After a quick hanging, he provided me with an ample donation of hanged-man fat.”
“How generous of him,” I answer dryly. My easy acceptance of yet another death doesn’t escape my notice. Still, that flicker of religious fear sends images of hell flashing through my mind. I push it away. What’s happening here, to these innocent women, is already hell.
“Have you winged anything else?”
“No, no. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Everything else is accounted for.”
Snake bones were tricky to find. Lucky for me, I remembered Joshua, an avid trophy hunter, mounted all manner of animals to his wall.
He was part of Fier’s first round of victims. Which meant he didn’t protest when I snuck into his house and took the skeleton with me.
Fierdon secured the fat. As for the seed of life, it took me a bit to decide what kind of seed.
The one thing we have a plethora of here in Sleepy Hollow?
Pumpkins and gourds. I chose from several varietals, trusting that at least one of them would be good enough for the spell.
“Alright, we’re ready to begin.”
“Clothes off,” Fierdon commands.
“Why? That isn’t mentioned.” I peer back down at the page.
“It was a part of the spell to bring me here. It’s important to be consistent.”
Oh why does he sound so amused? “Are you messing with me?”
“I’ve lived a long time, Emeline. It would be wise to listen to me. Take your clothes off.”
I huff, but strip down. “I think you just want to see me naked.”
“It’s all for the spell.” This time I definitely hear him chuckle.
Being naked again, in front of the invisible stare of Fierdon, has all manner of feelings swirling within me.
Even though such dark events surround me, I’ve been unable to forget the things Fierdon and I did.
A fluttering between my legs that’s only ever happened when I think about Fierdon makes me squeeze my thighs together.
I can tell he’s watching me, even without seeing his eyes. He drops into a crouch, leaning into the space where I’m kneeling. “Will you be able to focus on the spell, nightingale? Or do I need to fuck the distracted nature from your heated body beforehand?”
That fluttering sensation intensifies. “Y-you are the only thing distracting me. Get back to the center of the circle,” I stutter out, well aware of how right he is.
I’m eager to help reveal his body. I desire to see the muscles I dug my fingers into.
To be able to stare into eyes I know must be as dark as a storm while my body freefalls into that blinding, hot ecstasy that Fierdon is able to produce within me.
We’re facing another time crunch. Every night so far, there have been hangings. Fierdon must be changed and ready to intervene before any more innocent girls can be murdered.
“Let us begin.”
Fierdon stands in the center of the circle, his fingers flexing by his sides. Is he nervous?
I have to fight back a gag when I smear the human fat along the snake bones. It’s still warm. The seeds come next. I dot them from skull to tail tip, and finally cover the entire thing in flowering herbs. What a disgusting-looking concoction.
The spell is simple enough.
“Physical form take—”
“Sing it. The magic is in your voice,” Fierdon interrupts.
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’m screaming 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, in his 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’re both 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.
“I did everything right!” I protest, already knowing the blame is going to fall onto me.
“Read me the spell.” His demand comes out on a snarl.
I jump, fingers flying over the page as I quickly read the ingredients. “Collect flowering calendula, mugwort, feverfew, sandalwood, the bones of a serpent, the fat of a hanged man, the seed of life. I have it all! Look. It just says to speak the incantation and—”
Fierdon roars. “The seed of life?”
“Yes! I brought multiple kinds! Just in case. I was overprepared. Everything should have gone smoothly.”
He stares down at the altar. “Are those pumpkin seeds?”
I nod.
“It asked you for the seed of life and you thought it wanted pumpkin seeds?”
“They’re seeds! They give life to the plants and pumpkins! What do you think it meant?”
“What do you need to create life, Emeline? Human life?” The fire behind his carved face burns brighter. “Sperm, cum, a man’s spend!”
Heat races up my neck. “No. No that can’t be what it meant. You’re telling me the spell was asking for a man’s…”
Oh, no.
“A man’s semen, yes. Which I could have easily provided.” His monstrous hands clench by his sides.
I jump to my feet. The realization of what I’ve done slams into me. Because I used pumpkin seeds instead of a man’s seed, he became a…pumpkin hybrid? I messed up so bad. “I’m sorry. I thought…”
Fierdon is stumbling around. His massive feet drag as he walks. Muscular legs shift back and forth. He swings his arms. “This is all wrong.”
I stand, hands raised in surrender. “I’m so sorry.”
Now that I’m on my feet, I can appreciate just how tall his new form is. Could he be eight, nay, nine feet?
His fingers run along the pumpkin face, stopping to touch the stem at the top. He roars, the sound filled with anguish.
“I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said,” he bites back.
“I’ll do anything to make this right. We’ll get you the right kind of body. One you can use.”