The one, solitary figure still outside when everyone else was asleep and deep within dreams turned his head away from the sky as lightning traced a brilliant path right across the valley, his attention caught by something that captured the blaze of searing white and reflected it back just as quickly.

Wind begun to howl through the empty streets and carried large droplets ahead of a fierce rumble that caused the buildings to shudder. The man spared a quick look in the direction of the coming storm before crouching down and hastily untangling an old, rusted key from among the brambles and grasping it in his hand. More flashes of lightning lit the alley up and the man could just make out a curious engraving of a magpie perched atop a branch, a single teardrop forming from its eye as it looked skywards. The man shook his head as the storm broke above the town and took off in full sprint as heavy rain pummelled into every surface.

Blue skies and harsh sunlight bore down on Ibsen relentlessly as he stared blankly at the computer screen in front. Numbers trailed across the spread sheet and bled into one another until they formed a senseless, migraine inducing blur. Even with all the office windows opened as far as the hinges would allow, there wasn’t the slightest breeze to shift the air and offer relief from the humidity and sweltering heat. He rested his forehead in his fingers while his colleague behind him cursed and took to hitting the computer as the fan ceased to work. Ibsen raised his eyes back towards his own monitor as it flickered several times before the power failed all together.

“Well that’s great. Now what do we do? We need to submit these accounts by four o’clock.” Ibsen’s colleague grumbled.

“Power’s out across the whole town by the looks of things. There’s a huge storm over Daihilu. chances are it’s hit the main power station this time, we won’t have any power back until sometime tomorrow. Probably. Anyway, there’s actually another week before everything needs to be submitted. Boss wants everything done so he can take a few days out.” Ibsen replied stoically. It wasn’t like either of them had been getting anywhere even with power functioning. 

“You mean he wants us to work our magic so he has enough budget left to invest in some fancy bullock being shown off where he’s going to.”

“Something like that. Might as well go home and do what we can later.” He shrugged at his colleague with a grin and left the office. The smell of spiced cloud noodles being cooked in the street below had tangled in the humid air with the sweet aroma of fried bean tea, distracting him all together for several hours.

Knowing that his small top floor flat would be as unbearable as the office until night fell, Ibsen set off towards the lake at the edge of town with his dinner. Meilin was slowly building its way around the whole lake, but for now at least, it still offered breath taking views towards distant mountains and the cold breezes the had rushed down from snow and ice of the peaks.

The sweet scent of peony lingered in the air and Ibsen found himself taking a detour down the same overgrown alley that led to the older district of the town where he’d seen the strange magpie engraving before. His free hand automatically felt for the key that he’d strung on a leather thong around his neck since, eyes scanning for the bird among the brambles.

He passed under a brilliant red torii gate at the far end which opened onto a street of houses built from thick grey stone either side of a deep and fast flowing stream. Arched bridges crossed over the water frequently and buckets of peonies adorned either side of all the doorways. People bustled around him focused on their business of setting up for the festival. The slightest breeze shifted through the street and traced across his skin, carrying his focused towards a small gate at the end of the street.

Unlike the rest of the street which was immaculate, the gate and the path leading into the trees were slowing being consumed by wildlife. He felt for the old key again, suddenly overcome with a desire to see if it would unlock the gate; knowing somehow that it would, and deeply curious to see where the path went. The pressure in the air intensified and a sense of urgency rushed through him, that he needed to get to the end of wherever the path went before the weather changed. Behind him, towering black clouds were gathering and seemed to consume all of the light and air from the world. Magpies chattered angrily from a nearby cypress and hopped up and down branches, their irritation with the whether catching throughout the street.

Ibsen pulled the key free as he walked towards the gate. It bore the patina of age and countless years buried in the undergrowth, but a lot of the corrosion had been sanded away and the stem of the key had a soft sheen to it from the years of being held again. He had no idea why he had  picked the key up then, or why he was now so intent on going through this gate; or even if he should. Instinct was calling him, carrying him to the gate. Trying to look like he was meant to be there, Ibsen carefully brushed the ivy away from the lock and inserted the key, scrunching his eyes shut as he lightly turned his wrist. The lock clicked quietly. Even though he’d somehow known the key would work, he let out a small sight of relief all the same before hurrying into the jade shadows of the path and securing the key back around his neck.

He went forwards without looking back, occasionally having to duck under heavy limbs of ancient cypress or covering his face as dense fronds whipped back savagely if he moved the younger branches, causing him to walk blind until the trees finally thinned back out and he found himself at the edge of the lake. Clouds of dense mist obscured much of the view in a gauze of refracted light as cold air from the mountains collided and entwined with the hot air of Meilin, though the skies above were still an idyllic azure.

From the central depths of tranquil black waters, a white pagoda glistened subtly from within the gauze clouds reached by an ornate stone walkway that lead from either shore. He could faintly make out the sounds of Meilin a short distance away, yet in all his years living in the city he’d somehow never come across this place. There was another torii gate a short walk along the lake’s shore that opened on to the bridge, a small bell suspended in the centre and chiming gently as the breeze shifted it from time to time.

On each column that adorned the bridge, handsome magpies had been carved from marble. The style reminiscent of the carving he’d seen before, though these seemed more cheerful in nature. The water of the lake was dark as pitch though the surface sparkled beneath the sun and the balustrades either side were an intricate web of finally carved stars; and walking across the bridge reminded him of the milky way constellation that was the highlight of the summer nights.

Magpies chattered and trilled all around the lake and the bells of the torii gates knelled softly, the only sounds aside from a gentle clacking and intermittent thump of a loom being worked inside of the pagoda, though as Ibsen passed under the last gate of the bridge, the sounds from inside the pagoda stopped abruptly and a young woman with brilliant silver hair stepped out, amber eyes barely noticing him as they focussed intently on the small box in his hand.

“You have Meilin cloud noodles?” She asked, her gaze finally meeting his with a startling intensity. He nodded, uncertain of what to say or do. “You…don’t remember me, do you?” She sighed and dropped onto one of the benches circling the building, looking wistfully towards Meilin. Buckets of peonies adorned the circle walk round the building here as well

Memories begun to surface. A different hot summer when he was still a child, another storm…he’d wandered far from home and taken shelter in a small shrine to the wolf spirit. Back then he’d been petrified, but he’d met a girl close in age to himself that seemed overjoyed by the storm and kept peering out from the eaves to watch the heavens clash and thunder as the rain kept them both captive. He’d felt outside of time or in a dream that day as they shared a flask of sweet bean tea, both wondering how much trouble they’d be in when they finally made it home; the girl otherworldly with her bright pewter hair and sparkling amber eyes…“…Fen?”

She looked back up at him, an infectious smile lighting up her face. “You do remember!” Ibsen sat down next to her and set the noodles and tea between them. “Are you sure you want to share this tea with me for a second time?” Fen asked, a note of mischief creeping into her voice. Lightning flickered across the horizon and the wind shifted towards them, the bells around the lake sounding with a deeper song that resonated across the still waters.

Original article: The Weaver’s Pagoda.

When at last the hunting party came to a halt, the foremost rider wearing an eye patch lowered his hood and looked at her with a piercing silver eye. “I’m Fjolnir. Are you the hunter or the hunted?”

“Hunter,” Liese answered; the niggling sensation she was being tracked by some other unknown entity was bad enough. She didn’t want to have a party of what seemed over twenty also pursuing her through a world she didn’t know.

“We will see. There is a colossal boar deep within the forest, but know this: As you hunt, so are you the hunted.” Many of the accompanying hunters laughed with grating barks and inhuman sounds. Fjolnir turned his destrier away from Liese and urged it straight into a gallop. The horse reared with a roar, the wild hunt taking flight through the shadows and raised a bracing wind in its wake. The two ravens alighted with mocking cronks and spiralled up above the canopy as she stood watching their departure.

A toneless, disembodied voice crawled over her. “Run.” Liese’s skin was crawling all over, and in a blind panic, Liese leapt into a sprint without first checking her direction.  Jagged branches tore at her flesh as she forced her way through razor-sharp pines and dense ivy that tried to drag her down. All the while, feral and primitive howls and shrieks followed behind and alongside her. She tried to keep her gaze set ahead. She needed to keep the blue light in her sites.

When she’d told Fjolnir that she was a hunter, she’d been hoping that she could join with them and figure things out as they went. All thoughts of hunting a boar were gone as she continued her mad rush through the Darklands. She had no weapon and no armour; there was no chance of her succeeding or surviving. Her only chance now was to keep ahead of whatever was pursuing her and to reach Elfinburg.

Snarls and growls reached ever closer, insidious chuckles and taunts lashed through the otherwise silent world at Liese. She was clutching her chest and struggling to take a breath. In the moment she faltered, something grabbed the material of her dress and dragged her back into a deep hollow of tangled roots. A calloused hand clamped her mouth before she could let out a scream and a thick arm bound her tight. She was completely pinned and unable to see her captor. She watched as a horde of disfigured undead thundered straight past, unaware that their prey had already been seized.

Liese bit at the hand still clasped across her face and wrestled with all her remaining energy. A chaotic frenzy was coursing through her veins like fire, overwriting her thoughts and instincts with the pure desire to escape both the dead and her captor.

“Quit your squirming or you’ll bring ‘em straight back at us.” A gruff voice muttered close to her ear, a lesser binding magic laced throughout his words. Liese ceased her fighting and tried to catch a glimpse of whoever, or whatever, had spoken as the creature loosened its grip a fraction. It was a man of sorts with goat-like horns and downy feathers covering one side of his face. Amber eyes peered back at her from a neutral expression and he shook his head slowly, pressing a finger against his lips before returning his watch to the darkness. 

“Never seen ‘em riled up so much in a few hundred years. I wonder…” The creature sniffed at the air and grunted. “They do have a lust for living souls. Why d’ya leave the road eh?”

Liese couldn’t answer. She was exhausted and stunned by everything that had happened. Recognition of the stone fleshed demon from before had hit home as the horde had gone past. She’d seen it before in many nightmares, and often in the darkness of her room when she woke from them. Prowling ever closer to where she lay terrified beneath the quilt, stalking her for its time. The dawn would always banish it, but there would be no dawn here, and she knew that it would soon turn back and sniff her out.

“Oi.” The creature jabbed at her arm.

Liese turned in response, still struggling to keep her wits together. Whatever the thing that caught her was, it at least seemed civil for now, though crude with its behaviour. Her gaze fell to a dull, hefty sword propped by the creature’s side and she wanted to ask about it, or even to say anything. No words would come, and she felt the darkness of oblivion seeping through her mind. Sleep beckoned. Her eyelids were heavy and her body was becoming weightless. “Don’t sleep!” The creature hissed, prodding at the centre of her forehead with a taloned finger.  The touch sent a bolt of electricity right through her core and she sat up straight.

“Ow. I don’t…can’t… who was…is…you?” Words tumbled from numb lips. Liese mewled in frustration at her inability to form a sentence and pummelled at her temples and clawed at her hair simultaneously.

“You mean the leader of that there pack? Tha’s Zaza. Right tasty piece of work, even if I say so meself. I’m Jack, nice to meetcha.” The creature patted her on the head with a heavy hand, though it seemed to have the desired effect of stopping her madness.

“Um, sorry about that,” Liese muttered ashamedly, her hands dropping to her sides. “I’m Liese. Thank you, I guess?”

“Pah! Don’t go thanking me jus’ yet. I only grabbed ya ‘cause I figured you might be able to help me out. Tha’, and it’ll really piss Zaza off.” Jack winked, sitting back on his haunches and looking her up and down. As the shadows shifted, she noticed a white pumpkin that had been hollowed out and held a glowing lump of coal.

“I don’t…” Liese sighed. She took several slow, deep breathes to instils some clarity back to her mind before trying again. “What do you need help with?”

“I’m trying to cross over t’other side, it’s much prettier and got plenty of light see? There’s a ferryman of sorts not far from ‘ere, ‘cept I can’t pay ‘im an’ I can’t go through Elfinburg neither as my type ain’t welcome.”

“But what can I do?”

“I dunno. What can you do?”

Liese bit back a retort at the petulant response and thought about her options. For the time she was inside of the hollow, she was safe, though her time was slipping past at an unknown rate. Jack was clearly a demon of sorts, though at odds with the other residents of the Darklands. He’d saved her life, so taking the ferryman herself would only make her another enemy and there was no guarantee the other side that Jack referred to would be any less hostile. She looked at the sword again, longing for the blade to be at her side.

Liese gasped, fingers reaching into the sash and clasping the warm golden coin with relief. “This for the sword?” She held the coin in her fist with enough of the gold glinting in the feeble light from the coal.

“Jus’ so ya know, this thing don’ even have an edge.” Jack’s eyes had gone wide with hunger and were trained on her hand.

“That’s okay. I just have a feeling…something I can’t explain anyway. Deal?” She was surprised that the creature had had the decency to warn her of the swords inferiority as she lowered her hand in preparation for the exchange.

“Yours.” The creature grunted and he knocked the sword over so it landed by Liese’s side with a dull thwump. She dropped her golden coin into Jack’s hand, certain she had made the right choice. “Gotta ask, What’s with the cat toy?” Jack continued, tilting his head to one side and sniffing the air again. “Didn’t know humans went for catnip.”

“It’s my cat’s. I’m not sure what she gave it to me yet. If you don’t mind my asking, why the coal in the pumpkin?”

Jack snorted as he secured the coin in the depths of his coat pockets. “you get yourself to the other side too, then maybe I’ll tell ya. Better go now. I can tell ya now, tha’ Zaza’s picked up your sent.” And with that, the semi-humanoid creature pounced from the roots with his pumpkin securely in the crook of his arm. Liese shivered and wished he’d not told her that the demon Zaza was already coming back so soon. She lifted the blade in her right hand, uncertain of what she’d actually do if she had to use it.

She crept from the roots and looked all around for the beacon. She had no idea how far she had been forced off track and her heart dropped even further when all she could see was a rising wall of black on the horizon. Uncontrollable shivers shot up and down her spine, the recognisable sensation of demons creeping closer washed over her and made her mind waver again.

There were more of them. Too many to try and fight with a dull sword she didn’t know how to swing yet. She could hear the guttural snarls and growls and the breaking of twigs underfoot. They were quieter than before. More ordered. The idea that the demons were capable of such meticulous stalking horrified her and tore at the calm she had not long regained

“Wait, that’s not…” Liese swung her head around in the opposite direction and saw the flash of ivory as a showed beast snuffled in the earth. A wild idea filled her mind, and she started to edge towards the boar. There was no breeze to betray her and the demons and the dead were still a reasonable distance behind. 

Twenty feet. Ten feet. She could almost hear and feel Zaza’s rasping breath on her neck, but she kept her slow and silent pace. Five feet. The boar finally sensed her closing in. Angry vermillion eyes glared at her as it turned, brandishing its tusks at her and roared. The trees trembled and crows and ravens alike took to the firmament in an angry cawing and screeching. Liese added her own voice to the cacophony, bellowing at the boar and charging forwards.

She could do it. She had to. The boar lashed its tusks again and reared up. Liese dove into a sideways roll at the last second as the beast came crashing down. She continued with her momentum, spinning on her toe and leapt onto its back using its shoulder as a perch before straddle the boar’s back before the beast could start another attack on her. The sword she had been using to counterbalance came down hard. The flat edge whacked the beast’s rump and both screamed at the night as the boar started on furious charge straight towards the horde of demons.

The boar kicked and cavorted, tusks ripping demonic flesh apart while trying to dislodge the unwelcome rider. Liese held tufts of the coarse fur for dear life and clenched her legs tight to the beast’s back. The foul creatures scattered in all directions with howls and curses and Liese finally let out her breath as the boar settled into a levelled run. Zaza had been there. She had only just managed to spot him watching the scene from the safety of a tree, its cruel, grey features set into a furious expression.

As the boar carried her further away from the nightmare and the cool breeze whipped through her hair, she finally felt less afraid. As they entered a clearing, two ravens appeared in front of them and Liese was certain they were the same two from earlier. They worked together to distract the boar and confuse its vision until the brute finally came to a halt. Then the ravens landed on its tusks, cronking together again. She sensed they were being smug about their actions and calling to the hunting party as their voices echoed all around.

Sure enough, the mournful cries of the hounds answered back and were followed moments later by the thundering approach of destriers. Fjolnir was smiling as the riders came to a halt, once again circling around Liese. Many had lowered their hoods now and she could make out men and women of all ages amongst the hunting party.

“You have a very unconventional method of hunting. I see you somehow found one of Regin’s swords too.” The semi-blind man nodded at the dull blade Liese was clinging to. Her hand was in such a state of cramp from clinging to both the sword and the boar, she didn’t think she could let go of it anytime soon even if Fjolnir demanded it. He rode alongside the boar and patted its flank, speaking softly to it in another language. “Come. Time to let Trwyth return now.” Fjolnir offered a hand to Liese as she slid from the boar’s back and lifted her on to the horseback with him as though she were a feather. 

Her earlier exhaustion and aches returned while she contemplated this new predicament. She wondered what to do next and searched for the beacon, almost letting out a sob when there was still no sign of it. The hunt moved off again as the boar Trwyth lumbered away. She wasn’t sure if she was a captive to Fjolnir and his party or what, she only knew she was beyond fighting or running anymore as she rocked from side to side to the motion of the destrier.

They passed behind a waterfall and entered a tunnel of total darkness and purifying mists. Liese’s senses spiralled out of control again and Fjolnir held one shoulder to keep her steady throughout. She could see light ahead and the group splashed across a burbling stream, exiting the cavern to a town of stunning architecture and colour.

She felt the destrier come to a stop. Heard the merriment all around her. It was all so far away and she felt herself falling from the horse, unable to do anything about her. High above her in the highest tower of a beautiful castle was the blue light she had been following for the longest time. She sighed with relief as she fell into the embrace of sleep, not even aware of Tegan rushing forwards to catch her.

Original article: The Edge of Darkness III – The Wild Hunt.

Chapter I | A Mermaid’s Kiss
Chapter II | Fairies of Annwn 
Chapter III – The Wild Hunt

Original article: The Edge of Darkness.

Samhain marks the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter, and is one of the four greater festivals (along with Imbolc, Beltane and Lughnasadh). It is the end of the pagan year and a time of celebration of the lives of those who have passed on. Samhain, like Beltane, is considered liminal time when the boundary between this world and the otherworld could be more easily crossed, meaning spirits or fairies could more easily cross into our world.

The Edge of Darkness follows Liese who unwittingly summoned Tegan, a ghost, the previous Halloween and has been roped in to helping him since…

A Mermaid’s Kiss

Zimt, Beifuß, Grü– Minze
Mit Atem und Willen werde ich diesen Zauberspruch wirk–
Tol–irsche, Kardamom, Wermut
Mit der Dunkelheit der Nacht nehme ich jetzt die Flucht
Nixi– Atem

Liese looked at the curled pages of parchment that had taken all her attention through October. The penmanship of her current page of study was messy with inkblots obscuring parts of some words, as though they had been written down in haste. It made one of the listed ingredients vexing to translate and her own listed translations on the adjacent page were as messy. She was also certain there was something missing. Some other instruction or incantation.

The pages demanding all her time were bound in a well-worn leather journal. The contents were dedicated to documenting the politics of the day, court etiquette and horsemanship from what she had gleaned from the scant few illustrations and recognisable words. The entire contents were in German; not a language she had studied in school. It was something she was coming to regret increasingly as the year passed her by.

It was a potion of some kind, she knew. Some of the ingredients such as cardamom and wormwood were easily recognisable. Figuring out which mint was required hadn’t proved too challenging either. The incantations and other ingredients, however, had been far more challenging. Especially as she was staying with her cousin, Eva, in the countryside; and they had no internet or network coverage. Normally, such a situation would be paradise for her. But in those desired imaginations of tranquillity, she wouldn’t have to thumb back and forth through an old, faded German dictionary from some other century.

She leant back in her seat and looked out of the window at the darkening world. The rain had been falling heavier since the early hours, and the view across the field was becoming more reflective than green.

Liese had discovered the journal the month before after an impetuous trip to a small village in the southwest region of Germany. She often wondered if she had been fevered and delusional to have embarked on such a spontaneous venture, but then she would look at this journal and the page she had been shown, and she knew there was something real about it all.

On the previous Halloween, Liese had been at her own place in Bristol. She’d taken a powdered blend of acacia, Althea and star anise and burnt the incense until her room was infused with the incense, then taken the seven of cups tarot card and, as instructed, contemplated the card for a while before making a wish and placing it beneath her pillow. She later realised, she should have made the wish in the morning.

That night, she had dreamt she had been at a masquerade ball dancing with someone… or no-one… she couldn’t tell. Everything was a surreal blur of colour and lilting music and some familiar presence. Then, she had woken up to a crisp first of November with only a vague recollection of a dream and no idea of what she’d set in motion, or of the spirit she had summoned.

Tegan. She never saw his true appearance or even much of him at all. Yet she knew his name instinctively and he had taken to haunting her personally. Their “conversations” were more signs, sensations and freakish activity that resulted in assorted groans and curses from Liese.

He’d gotten her to Germany by somehow influencing the sat-nav in her car to bring up a specific destination when she got in, and by making the car cut-out on her every time she tried to cancel the guidance and drive off. Eventually, she had become so frustrated she had screamed in the general direction of where she presumed Tegan was and agreed to go. From then, she had also regretted her decision to switch to a hybrid vehicle. But then, ‘exposure to paranormal activity’ wasn’t on her list of priorities to check out when she signed the contract for it.

Liese pulled the tarot card from the journal and contemplated the image again as she wondered what had happened to Tegan. He had vanished on her after getting her to the journal. All she’d had to go on from that was that her journal opened to October 31st back at the hotel room, with one of the cups and teaspoons from the room placed on top. After a year of his hauntings, she felt an almost telepathic connection to the ghost. She had found herself missing his company, as annoying as he could be, and was growing concerned about his lengthy absence.

Kürgis, her cat, wasn’t helping the growing sense of unease Liese felt either. The silver tabby came pelting into the study, halting against the window on her back legs with front paws resting on the panes, her face pressed right against the glass. It was as though the cat was monitoring the rising waters as she huffed and sneezed several times before tearing off out of the study again to continue her high-speed inspection. A cool breeze rippled across her skin in the cat’s wake.

“I have to ask, why did you call your cat Pumpkin?” The voice came from behind Liese, and she swivelled around on the seat so quickly she sent the journal and her notes flying. She had gotten used to strange breezes, flickering lights and the occasional sounds of someone walking around. She was even familiar with the sweet fragrance of spices that preceded something unexplainable happening to her. Indeed, the kitchen had its own ghost that was known to knock on the cabinets with a walking cane, a habit carried over from the man’s life.

But this…Liese stared. Her breath caught somewhere in her chest as she found herself almost nose to nose with a spectral person dressed in Rococo fashion. Tegan. Though she’d never seen him before, she recognised the sweet accompaniment of spices that rushed her senses and signalled his presence. Normally he was a shadow that resembled a human, and occasionally she would see some detail of who he might have been.

“Why are you staring at me like you’ve seen a ghost?” Tegan asked, straight-faced. Liese continued to stare, her mind floundering as she tried to figure out a reasonable response to that question. Did he know he was dead? She was still trying to come to terms with how handsome he was… or familiar? His eyes were an inquisitive silver. Intense and hypnotic. She couldn’t remember where she’d seen them before.

“Kürgis came with that name when I adopted her,” Liese said, dodging his question and leaning around ephemeral flesh to retrieve the journal and papers. She had felt the colour warming her cheeks and had to silence her mind from what it was trying to tell her. She hesitated as she sat back up, glancing at Tegan and wondering how she was meant to act, before turning back to the desk and opening back up to the potion. She’d never actually had the have a physical discussion with him before.

“You do know…” Before Liese could finish, she sensed the silent laughter coming from somewhere close to her right shoulder and sucked her breath in. If she started scolding him out loud, someone would definitely come and check on her. So far, no one knew about the specific details of the journal or about Tegan. She wasn’t even convinced that anyone else would see him, even if she now could.

“Tollkirsche, not toll-kirche,” Tegan said, audibly smothering the laughter from his voice as he pointed down at the ingredients. “Belladonna.”

“As in deadly nightshade? Wouldn’t that kill-” she stopped suddenly, sitting up straight and wincing, hardly daring to breathe or look at him.

“I mean, it wasn’t specifically considered a poison when I was alive. It was used in a variety of ways. And yes, we discovered large doses of it never ended well, and no, that wasn’t what killed me.” Tegan answered, no trace of emotion in his voice to suggest what he might be thinking. “And that last line would translate to ‘a mermaid’s kiss’ in your language.”

Liese held back her cynical retort as she turned around again, seeing in his eyes that he wasn’t joking. “I don’t know about a mermaid’s kiss. What is this potion? Why is it so important to you? Why did you get me to go all the way to Germany to retrieve it?” She stopped and took a breath. There were so many questions forcing their way to the surface. “What do you do with the mermaid’s kiss? There’s something missing isn’t there? Some final instruction?”

No answer came. Instead, Tegan’s eyes became unfocused and his facial expression obscure, though he didn’t move away or vanish into the aether. Kürgis broke the tension by returning for another frenzied inspection of the view through the window, not even faltering for a moment as she brushed past Tegan.

“You have to tell me something about this potion,” Liese whispered, gesturing over her shoulder. She wanted to know what was driving him down his path with such determination. She’d entered into the private residence of the castle through ancient and secret passages, been in his old bedchamber, found the journal beneath the false bottom of a desk drawer and left again; all without being caught thanks to Tegan. She needed to know something of what was happening, and what her part in it was.

“It’s not really a kiss as from a mermaid, just her breath, but given like a kiss. It just doesn’t sound so pretty in German. Technically it’s also from a water sprite or river maiden since she lived in the Great Lake. It creates a flying potion.” He pressed a single finger to the middle of her forehead for the briefest moment, a sensation like static rippling across her skin. “To be liberated from your mortal form and fly using your mind. And when consumed upon Beltane or Samhain when the veil between worlds is thinnest, it allows you to glimpse upon the other realms. We’re both looking for someone, we can help each other.” Tegan’s gaze had moved to something on the desk behind her and an image of the tarot card on her desk came into her mind.

“Who says I’m looking for someone?” Feigning ignorance, but also feeling a small sense of foreboding about what would happen. She pushed it away. She trusted Tegan, he’d kept her from danger all the time they had been together.

“You summoned me.” Was all he answered with.

Liese wondered how much Tegan knew about her. About her wishes and dreams, or even the meaning of the individual tarot card she’d carried everywhere as a talisman since he first appeared. She still didn’t know what the connection was between her wish and the appearance of the ghost scrutinising her every detail as she lapsed into silence. She let out a sigh and finally stood up from her workstation, stretching before gathering everything up. She hoped Tegan would have an idea of what was on her mind as she stepped around him and headed towards the door.

She made her way across the hallway and down a small series of steps to the kitchens, grateful that the pumpkin carving hadn’t started yet. Ellen was curious enough, but nothing compared to that of her son, Garth. No matter what was occurring, he was ready with fifty questions. Simple yes or no answers were never good enough, and Liese didn’t feel up to answering for the sudden collection of herbs and spices she was fetching, what they were for and whatever else might be asked by a young, curious mind.

She pinched off a few spearmint leaves from one of the plants on the kitchen table as she went through, placing her items down and switching the kettle on, then into the larder where she pulled various jars off the top shelf. “Do I specifically need to use the belladonna?” Liese muttered towards Tegan as she roughly chopped some cinnamon bark and crushed a cardamom pod, adding it to a jar with the spearmint leaves. She wasn’t keen on adding something toxic to a tisane, or of going into rain that still lashed at the windows, simply to appease a ghost.

“No, it should work without it, and I’ll think of an alternative for the mermaid’s breath. How do you intend to acquire mugwort and wormwood though?”

“Oh, that’s easy enough. I-“

“Liese? Is that you in here?” A voice drifted into the larder, that of Aelwyd, Elen’s housekeeper. If the stories were to be believed, the elderly lady had been the housekeeper for well over a hundred years, having travelled extensively before that. Liese crushed another cardamom pod and added the seeds to a cafetière with some coffee and went back into the kitchen. She decided to act as though nothing strange was going on. She wasn’t sure when Aelwyd had come into the kitchen and was well into mixing ginger cake batter and she worried she had somehow walked straight passed her without realising. More to the point, the elderly lady was looking past Liese, sharp green eyes penetrating the cool dark of the larder.

Liese spun around, but there was no-one there. Tegan had gone. She turned back to Aelwyd who had returned her attention to the cake mix and said nothing. Had Aelwyd also seen Tegan and heard their discussion? The kettle boiled and Liese attended to her coffee. She also poured a small cup of water and added a mix of mint leaves to the water for Aelwyd.

“Thank you.” Aelwyd smiled as Liese placed the cup close to where she worked.

“What are you making? It smells divine.” Liese said as she lowered the plunger of the cafetière and Aelwyd covered the bowl with a clean tea towel.

“Lebkuchen.” She said with a wink that was full of knowledge and mischief before she exited the kitchen. Liese was more confused by her sudden departure. There was simply no way someone could have prepared a cake mixture in less than five minutes, and she was certain the kitchen had been empty when she arrived…

“Well, that was intense. I think she saw me.” Liese had to wrestle the cafetière from toppling over and she placed a hand on her heart once the coffee was secure. She was certain her soul had vacated her body after Tegan crept back up on her. Even Garth had never managed to spook her so successfully.

“And specific.” She agreed, her heart still racing wildly, as much from Tegan startling her as Aelwyd’s sudden desire to bake a German biscuit that originated not too far from the castle she’d paid a visit to. “Do you think she somehow knows what I did?”

“No way. Maybe she just saw my journal in German and made her own conclusions up?” She wondered what conclusions Tegan was coming to, to have said that, but decided she probably wouldn’t like the answer. So, she gathered everything back together. Balancing everything in the crook of her arm, she made her way back up the stairs, continuing up to the top floor and darting into the room she was back using for the duration of her stay. “Anyway. Wormwood? Mugwort? You at least need those two for this to work.”

Liese smiled at the ghost as she placed her items on the small table by her armchair. Maybe he didn’t know much about her and was only present when she knew about it. “Luckily for you, or me I suppose since I’m making your potion, I have both of those.” She pointed at two potted plants in one of the bay windows. She’d been using a blend of both plants as a tisane to aid in better sleep for many years. Though she’d never experienced lucid or prophetic dreams from either. She had a caddy full of dried leaves that already had a bit of spearmint blended in. “Did you really use the breath of a water sprite?”

“Is it so hard to believe?”

“Maybe? I suppose not. Either I am talking to you, a ghost. Or I really am going mad.”

Tegan started pacing up and down the room. Blackwood floorboard creaked beneath his ephemeral form until he came to a stop right in front of her and took her face in his spectral hands. “You’re only mad if you believe you’re mad. I promise you, this is just as crazy for you as it is for me. The worlds of our lives are so disparate.”

“What do you see? Normally I mean. I’ve never truly seen you before today, and I’m not really sure why I can now, either.”

“Because the veil between us is thinnest, and perhaps because there is a magic to this place as well.” His hands dropped back to his sides, though he remained toe to with her. “Everything is usually a blur. It’s like a dream…. vague, fluid… I felt I was going mad, never knowing what to believe. The mermaid was called Meri, She was a good friend of mine.” Though Tegan was still smiling, Liese could sense the overwhelming sadness somewhere behind his cheerful demeanour. His words brought some comfort to her though. Hearing him confess to questioning his own sanity made her more certain of her own. She dropped into the armchair, watching the flames flicker within the fireplace.

“Do you think we’ve met before? I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.” She didn’t even have to look at him to remember the penetrating silver eyes

“I think I’ve been dead since what I’m wearing was in fashion.” Tegan settled on the floor beside her legs after his non-answer, and they lapsed into silence. The wind cried through the falling dusk and sounds of laughter and animated chatter drifted into the room from downstairs.

Eva was orchestrating a pumpkin carving competition between Garth and a few friends as part of their family tradition of getting ready for Halloween. Liese knew she ought to join them. It wasn’t often they got together anymore due to busy work schedules and family commitments, especially with her other cousin and Eva’s sister, Parisa, due later this evening. The three of them always dressed up as the three witches when they were going through high school, or any chance they got to dress up and fool around for that matter, and it had been over five years since all three were together. Even longer since they got together for Halloween. Both Eva and Parisa would be here in the morning and all the days afterwards. But Tegan may not.

He’d been an almost constant companion to her in his own way over the last year, scaring her half to death with his haunting and pranks in an attempt to communicate and prove his existence to her. She wondered what creating and drinking this potion would do. She had a suspicion that nothing would be the same again afterwards, and she worried he would be gone forever; that some secret, unwritten contract would be fulfilled.

Liese studied her from the corner of her eye. Long, dark tresses fell in gentle waves that shimmered gold in the light like polished ebony(??), fine, elfin features… he seemed far too beautiful to be human. Especially with his mesmerising/captivating silver eyes. Even made flesh, she suspected his otherworldly beauty would remain. She couldn’t help wonder how many hearts he’d broken in his time.

Liese had fallen into a trance-like state as she’d contemplated recent events and watched the flickering flames. She’d been lulled by the gentle patter of the easing rain and started imagining a world where mermaids existed and what it might look like, 

Kürgis was sprawled out in front of the hearth.  She’d obviously decided that the rain was no longer a threat and the house wasn’t going to float away.  It was now fully dark outside, she realised. Downstairs had fallen silent, Eva and the children having left for the town to join in with trick-or-treating.

Aelwyd had come in and re-stocked the log basket unnoticed. The housekeeper had diligently lit all the candles Liese had set out in ceramic jack-oh-lanterns around the room and left a small plate with two lebkuchen sweets balanced on top of the journal. A sign if ever there was one, Liese thought, looking at Tegan who’s eyes were still fixed on the flames.

“Aelwyd knows about you, I’m sure of it.”

“Mmm. She reminds me of someone.”

“You were here the whole time, weren’t you?”

“I realised too late that she was coming in, so I figured I’d play dead.” 

Liese fixed him with a somewhat exasperated expression as a laugh escaped her. “Seriously? Playing dead? I suppose you’ll be corpsing around next…”

“I’m the best at it.” He tried to keep a poker face, but Liese could see one corner of his mouth twitching before he covered his mouth and made a coughing sound.

She shook her head, got up and picked up her jar of spices from the table. “Come on, let’s make your potion.” Liese also picked up the small ceramic tea caddy next to it. Next, she retrieved her small kettle from the hearth and filled it with water from a bottle before placing it in the fire and settling next to Kürgis who was still stretched out, a paw twitching lazily from time to time. 

She then started measuring the ingredients from both the jars into a tea egg, whispering the specified incantations with each set of ingredients and was about to place it in her cup when Tegan caught her wrist mid-motion.

“Wait. Maybe this will help in place of the mermaid’s breath.” He crouched beside her, the pressure through his fingers pulling her hand towards him. She realised his touch wasn’t as cold as before, or as fluid. Or was that just her imagination? When the tea egg was back at eye level, Tegan pressed his lips against the metal and let out an audible breath, a faint impression of his lips left in condensation remained when he released her hand. Part of her wanted to ask how he’d harvester a mermaid’s breath, and part of her might not want to know.

When the kettle started to whistle, she removed it from the fire and sat it on the rest to cool off. She added more logs into the fire, banking it up slightly to last longer through the night. Then, she resumed her main task and poured water slowly over the tea egg and inhaled the sweet aroma of spices that enveloped her. The atmosphere in the room had changed. The energy shifting… charging. She could feel the magic of the night all around her, rising within her and permeating her heart, filling her with boundless excitement.

“What will happen?” Liese asked quietly, swirling the tea egg in a clockwise direction. “What happened when you took it?” She also wanted to ask him why, but that felt like a personal question and she couldn’t exactly answer why she herself was making it.

“I remember feeling like I was flying, I didn’t feel encumbered by my mortal flesh. But I was awake, the potion was different… so I can’t say for certain what might happen with this one.” Tegan’s expression was pensive, as though trying to remember some forgotten detail that might have some relevance.

Liese felt a light touch between her shoulder blades and the image of the seven of cups card flashed through her mind. ‘Make a wish and have faith.’ It was a strange voice. Otherworldly, feminine… The candles flickered and guttered in a wind of their own before straightening back up and letting the light settle.

I did, then you came… she said to herself while still turning the tea egg. She let her mind empty of all the mental clutter and focused her intentions towards the swirling waters. With a deep sigh, she lifted the tea egg out at last. “Will you stay with me tonight, Tegan?” She asked. He’d brought her this far on their journey. She felt it was important he stay with her at least a while longer.

“Of course.” He claimed the vacant armchair, sitting sideways in it so he could see the door, the fire and the bed.

“No. I meant beside me. This is the night of the dead. If I start to panic while on the astral planes, I could easily summon something dark without meaning to. Who knows what might find me and follow me back?” She was blushing at her admission of fear and after pausing to retrieve the lebkuchen, walked directly to her bed without checking for his reaction or response. She was relieved when she heard the rustle of silks and creek of a floorboard a moment later.

“So, to flying and to dreaming.” Liese smiled, holding her cup up to a toast before taking a swig or the bittersweet tisane. She couldn’t help but giggle slightly. She compared her attire of skinny jeans and oversized hoody against Tegan’s navy breeches and waistcoat with silver embroidery, trying to ignore the frilly lace cuffs of the tunic or the white stockings and ornate heels, and she finished the last mouthful of the potion.

“To a journey beyond your imagination.” He added, taking the other lebkuchen and biting into it. It was the first time she’d ever witnessed him interacting with anything of her world, and she couldn’t help wonder if the gingerbread biscuit was still physical as several crumbs fell down onto his waistcoat. She bit into her own, revelling in the rich sweetness after the strong bitter of the wormwood that cut through honey.

“Let your mind empty and quieten. Let go of the world. Don’t resist against what you feel.” Tegan said. She could feel herself melting down the pillows as her head sunk into the plump down and her eyes were looking up at the ceiling. She felt weightless and intoxicated. Her mind was spinning and she reached out for Tegan’s hand before anxiety took a hold of her.

Did a ghost’s make such a difference to a blend of herbs and spices she was accustomed too? Only Tegan’s hand didn’t feel like a ghost’s. She wasn’t sure what she felt. Flesh and bone? Ice? A sort resistant and static energy that hummed against her palms? Or was it a combination of all three… a combination of sensations that squeezed her fingers back and sent a surge of electricity through her soul.

Liese mumbled something incoherent as her mind drifted towards sleep. She had an image of Aelwyd walking ahead of her through a torchlit corridor, carrying a censor of burning Dragon’s Blood. The smoke was heavy and cloying in her lungs and forced the breath out of her lungs.

She couldn’t breathe. She was falling. She tried to cry out for Tegan and her hand passed through thin air as the roaring sound of water filled her ears and icy waters rushed around her. The immense pressure remained around her. She panicked that the flooding had been far worse than she realised and the darkness became absolute. 

When her eyes opened again, she found herself on a sandy surface as air rushed into her lungs, and she saw someone watching her from a lake. Glowing gold eyes seeming out of place in the dark world. A mermaid. The water sprite winked at her then slipped back into the shadowy waters and was gone without explanation.

Liese studied the place where she had found herself. It felt too clear to be a dream, though she knew she was nowhere in the real world. She wasn’t even certain how to describe what she was looking at. A black, oppressing world of stone, levitating monoliths and iron gates that opened to a veiled road that led away from the lake. In the distance, she could make out a fantastically illuminated castle that glistened like a star. She looked around her for Tegan, her heart sinking at his absent presence. Wherever she was, he wasn’t.

She stood up and brushed herself down, fingers feeling sheer silks beneath them instead of cotton and denim. “Oh no.” She rushed to the water’s edge and stared at her reflection that was both one she knew and recognised, and one unfamiliar. She couldn’t place what was different about her, besides being dressed in layers of silk and with her hair pinned up in an ornate fashion.

“Are you finished admiring yourself?” A silky female voice said from close to where Liese knelt and she whipped her head around to look for its owner.

“Kürgis? How are you here?” She gasped in shock as she spotted her silver tabby grooming herself as though nothing weird was going on.

“Someone with an ounce of sense had to come and help you out.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Sadly not, this is your fate. You must find your own way.”

“Why are you here then, if you can’t come with me?” The brief hope of company was dashed in with those few words

“Your separation from Tegan was unexpected.” Kürgis stopped and took to fixing the fur of her tail. Liese suspected the cat knew much more and had almost said something that would no doubt be really useful to her. “You must find him before the sun rises. Make for the castle. He’ll be there somewhere.” The cat continued full of confidence.

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s his father’s home. Elfinburg, House of the Erlkin. It’s just the other side of the Darklands, it should only take you a few hours to cross.”

“What’s the catch?” It all seemed incredibly straightforward and too easy. A place with a name ‘Darklands’ hardly gave the impression of walking through a park

“That’s the realm of Regin. I’ve no idea what you’re going to find in there.” Kürgis sat back on her haunches. The cat seemed completely unfazed as she continued to stare intensely at Liese as though waiting for something. “This might help you though.” Her front paw was resting on something, and she flicked it over to Liese. It was Kürgis’ favourite catnip mouse. Amazingly, the cat hadn’t swiped the catnip out first.

“Um, thanks.” Kürgis smiled at her in a way only cats can, somewhere between adoring and total haughtiness, then she leapt into the shadows and was also gone. “Dark, treacherous-looking road it is then. What could go wrong?” She said to herself, placing the mouse toy Kürgis gave her into the sash around her waist and leaving the lake behind her for the darklands.

Next Chapter – Fairies of Annwn

Original article: The Edge of Darkness I : A Mermaid’s Kiss.