Chapter 4 #2
Running, something I truly never did unless coffee or chocolate was involved, I joined the race. Following the pups up the cement steps, across the massive porch, and into the house, Mona’s piercing, urgent whines got louder and more persistent.
Stopping and circling, the boys mirrored her actions. She sniffed. They sniffed. She barked. Arthur translated. Otis agreed, and Chewy once again said, “Why didn’t I vote for tacos?”
Over and over, the process repeated as we made our way through what remained of Hoopingarner House. Into one room, then another, and another, then…
Mona stopped. Her long, dark gray tail shot straight into the air. Her nose went down, and she boofed. The muffled, breathy, closed-mouth sound was quickly followed by a chuff as she stared into a ginormous hole in the middle of what I instantly recognized as the ballroom.
In the blink of an eye, four dogs and little old me stood staring into the crater. I could feel the buzz of telepathic Magic and knew the pups were discussing something they didn’t want me to hear.
Tuning into their mental conversation, I caught Chewy say, “You know she’s gonna wanna go down there.”
“But we can’t let her,” Arthur insisted.
“And you think…?” Otis started to say before I interrupted.
“Well, this is less than ideal.”
“No.” Arthur was adamant.
“Definitely not tacos,” Chewy grumped.
“That's a really big hole,” Otis stated the obvious.
Walking up beside me, Zelda knelt at the edge of the hole. Placing her hand on the floor, she had just barely touched the scorched wood when she jerked it back.
“Oh,” she gasped, rubbing her hands together as if trying to wipe something away. “I don't like that.”
“Don't like what?”
“I don’t know, but this is ‘Baba Yaga-level don't like what I feel’.”
“Well, shit.” Forcing out an incredibly exasperated breath, I waited. Zelda always had an explanation.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long before she began. “I don't know what this is.”
“How do you not know what it is? You are the next Witch in line to be the Baba Yaga. You always know.”
“Not always.”
“Yes, always.”
“I’m not arguing with you right now,” she huffed. “How about I tell you what I do know?” Not waiting for an answer, she powered on, “It isn't Witch Magic.”
“Okay.”
“It isn't Fairy Magic.”
“So, no Kai?” I was getting impatient.
“I didn’t say that,” she growled. “I said this was…” She pointed at the hole. “…was not created by Fairy Magic, and it sure as hell isn't Dragon Magic.”
She paused. I bit my tongue. I knew she was thinking, and it was killing me not to ask what she was thinking about.
But I knew better. Been there. Done that.
So I waited. And thank the Goddess in white patent leather, thigh-high boots; it didn’t take her long to start talking.
“It's older than all of that.”
“Older?”
The dogs and I stared. “Older than Carol?” I asked, completely shocked that anything could be older than the reigning Baba Yaga.
“Nobody is older than Carol,” Zelda replied.
“Okay.” I nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
“Cockroaches?” Chewy offered.
“Chewy,” Zelda groaned, adding an irritated sigh at the end.
“Just saying,” my sassy little man mused.
“Kai?” I mentally called again, immediately followed by Aideen adding, “Roy?”
Greeted with more silence, I almost screamed. It was the most frustrating thing I’d ever experienced.
“Come on,” I mentally begged. “Please, just answer me.” My voice cracked. I was just barely holding back the tears. “Tell me you’re okay, please?”
“Martha.” Aideen’s voice was calm, but incredibly serious. “Kai is alive.”
Looking up, I focused on my mind’s eye and looked at the Dragon Queen with whom I shared my soul. “How do you know?”
“Because if he wasn't...”
She paused for what seemed like forever, but was quite literally a fraction of a second. Then, with an eerily serene conviction stated, “…we'd already be burning down the world.”
“Oh…” That was all I got to say before Mona howled and Arthur pointed with his right front paw.
“Look there,” he directed.
Eyes following his stare, I saw something bright orange, covered in soot, hanging from the jagged edge of one of the floorboards. Walking around the hole, trying to be careful, I almost fell into the hole when Maeve and Theresa came running into the building.
Glaring at my sister, I shook my head and growled, “Are you tryin’ to kill me?”
“Yep.” Nodding with pursed lips, she sarcastically chided, “Yeah, that’s what I want. To kill you. Geez, Martha. Give me a break.”
Refusing to enter the never-ending sisterly banter and debate session that we three Dellencourt Dragonesses had at the very least on a daily basis, I kept making my way around the hole. I knelt to the left of what I could see was a scrap of dirty, orange fabric and reached down to retrieve it.
Holding the cloth in my hand, I got up and took a few steps backward. Stretching it open with both hands, I gasped with such vigor that I was lightheaded as I saw the black, block letters PPFBH.
“Purgatory Penitentiary for Beings of Horror,” I gulped. “Barney was here.” Looking at Maeve, then Theresa, and finally Zelda, I drew a sharp breath. “He didn't come for me.”
Shaking her head with worry in her beautiful green eyes, she confirmed my worst thoughts. “No. He came for Kai.”
“But how…?”
Cut off for the third, or maybe it was the fourth, time by Mona’s determined barking, I barely got my eyes on her before she was galloping toward the stairs.
Disappearing around the first spiral of what had been a stunning mahogany staircase, not even the tip of her tail was visible when Arthur shouted, “MONA!”
Racing after my boys as they raced after Mona, I got halfway up the stairs when a weak, faint voice from somewhere far below my feet whispered, “If you're Martha Dellencourt…”
Eyes flying to the girls, I mouthed, “Did you hear that?”
They all shook their heads.
To Aideen, I confirmed, “That wasn’t Kai.”
“No, it was not.”
“Was it…?”
“Turn around and go home.” The voice was adamant, even a little louder. “Because if you come down here...”
The longest pause of my life ensued. Sure, it was only a second and a half, but to me it was an eternity. Then the voice added, “You're gonna become something none of us can stop.”