Emma and the Elixir of Madness Read online

  Emma and the Elixir of Madness

  Tales of Widowswood Book 4

  Matthew S. Cox

  Emma and the Elixir of Madness

  Tales of Widowswood Book 4

  © 2017 Matthew S. Cox

  All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons, places, or practitioners of magic is pure coincidence. No portion of this book may be reproduced without permission from the author.

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1-949174-78-6

  ISBN (print): 978-1-949174-79-3

  Contents

  1. Druid's Curse

  2. Herbalism

  3. The Ground Has Teeth

  4. Too Small

  5. The Problem With Goats

  6. Playing Tricks

  7. Mean Things

  8. A Dog's Dilemma

  9. Chickens

  10. The Great Faerie Hunt

  11. Gone Nutters

  12. A Plethora of Carrots

  13. A Poor Proposition

  14. Bump in the Night

  15. The Mouse That Screamed

  16. Dolls

  17. Magic Berries

  18. Petrified Piglets

  19. Uruleth's Gift

  20. Wings For a Rabbit

  21. A Little Help

  22. Faerie Circle

  23. The Troll

  24. Accidental Magic

  25. At Water's Edge

  26. Residue

  27. The Mushrooms

  28. The Cracked Hearth

  29. Bad Dog

  30. Trial and Error

  31. The Stuff

  32. A Question of Law

  33. Sir Tam, Goblin Slayer

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other books by Matthew S. Cox

  1

  Druid's Curse

  Comfortable atop her new bed, Emma lay on her side watching the rat nibble a hunk of bread. Kimber sat cross-legged near the foot end, setting the three rag dolls Da got for her in tiny wooden chairs.

  Two beds flanked the window at the back end of the room—one for Emma and one for Kimber—but in the days since the work finished, they’d been sharing one. Tam’s bed occupied the other corner along the north wall, opposite the door in. The boy sprawled on the floor, his attention absorbed by a book of knights. While he didn’t yet read, the illustrations of armored men in various poses with swords enthralled him.

  Beneath the window between the girls’ beds, a small trunk had become the rat’s home. Inside, Emma had decorated three floor levels connected by tiny ladders with ‘rat furniture.’ Another, longer, ladder connected up to the windowsill so he could enjoy the breeze whenever he wanted. His bed sat nestled at the bottom left corner, under the first raised floor, safe and dark.

  Emma glanced from her sister’s small doll table to the window, which offered a view north over the meadow behind the house. Seeing the sun so far from setting annoyed her for once. Having spent most of the past few days helping rearrange the house had left her exhausted. For the first time in her ten years, Emma wanted bedtime to hurry up and get there.

  The family bed had become a memory. No longer sleeping with her parents close by in case of nightmares—Mama and Da’s bedroom sat behind the wall at her back—made falling asleep difficult. For years, she’d spent the night on her side, pressed face-first against the wall with Tam snuggled up behind her. Bedtime had only become more cramped with the addition of Kimber to the family.

  Emma couldn’t figure out if not being squished against the wall bothered her or if she missed having her family close. Tam hadn’t seemed to mind the change. He rather enjoyed having an entire bed to himself. Kimber had decided to share Emma’s bed every night despite having a separate one. Whether she sensed Emma had trouble adjusting, or if the girl also feared being alone at night, she didn’t know. Tonight, however, Emma doubted she’d have any difficulty falling asleep.

  For his part, the rat adored his new house, finding it a vast improvement over the little box they’d given him at first. Even Da had gotten used to having him around and no longer sent disdainful looks his way. After all, had the rat not chewed the girls free, Emma couldn’t have asked the raven to go find Nan. If not for his teeth, the Shadows’ Eyes thieves’ guild would’ve done who-knows-what with her and Kimber.

  Emma reached out and scratched the rat’s head with one finger. Seeing him reminded her how terrified she’d been in that cellar, but it also made her think about the look on Nan’s face when her roots ripped the doors away. Knowing Nan had gotten that angry over people trying to hurt them filled her with warmth.

  “I’as ’fink you’as hair’s pretty,” said Kimber, speaking for one of her dolls. “’Morrow ae shall pick some flowers fer you’as tae wear innit.”

  Kimber made the other doll nod. “Oh, ’at would b’lovely, wouldn’t it, Anna?”

  The rat picked up his last bread square, stretched to lick Emma’s finger, and resumed nibbling on his dinner.

  “Psst,” whispered Kimber. “Em, you’as Anna.”

  “Oops.” Emma grasped the third doll and made it scratch its head. “Flowers make me sneeze.” She wagged the doll’s head while emitting a fake sneeze.

  Kimber giggled.

  A banging knock sounded from the front door.

  Tam jumped up.

  “Hold on, hold on,” called Nan. “Don’t let your pants catch on fire.”

  Emma shifted to the edge of the bed and got up. The rat leapt onto her back, crawled up to her shoulder, and peeked out from under her hair as she walked to the doorway and stuck her head out into the hall. A little ways left, a door led to her parents’ new bedroom. A nearer distance to the right, past an obvious change in the color of the floorboards, the door to Nan’s room hung open. The thuds of Nan crossing the front room preceded the clatter of the door opening. Emma crept out and made her way to the main room, curious to see who’d come calling so late in the day and knocked so hard.

  Kimber and Tam followed close behind.

  “What has your granddaughter done to my son?” asked a woman.

  A strange gurgle in a boy’s voice followed. Water sloshed.

  Emma blinked in confusion, walking faster. At the end of the hall, she hid against the corner and peered around.

  A brown-haired woman a few years older than Mama filled the doorway with her arms folded, an angry frown upon her face. She had a plain commoner’s dress on, in basic green, with brown cloth shoes. At her side, a creature resembling a thin teal-skinned boy stood with his head dunked in a wooden bucket held against his chest. His beige tunic had soaked to his skin, and wetness darkened most of his brown leggings. The boy’s bare feet sported stubby black claws instead of nails, and he had sharper, longer talons in place of his fingernails. Thin membranes spanned between his fingers and toes. Bright yellow-green fins flapped lazily along his forearms. When he pulled his head out of the bucket, Emma had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop herself from emitting a yelp of surprise.

  The boy’s eyes had become giant black spheres. His face looked more fishy than human. Water dribbled out of slits on the sides of his neck, and he kept gulping at the air like he couldn’t breathe. Despite the drastic transformation, Emma caught a sense of familiarity in his features. As soon as she recognized Alan, the boy who’d mocked her at Rydh’s farm and thrown her against a wall, she giggled.

  The woman, no doubt his mother, glared in her direction. “I don’t know what it is you’ve done to my son, but please… fix him.”

  Alan pointed a clawed finger at Emma and made a gargling noise. Seconds later, he gawped and plunged his head back into the bucket of water.

  Gi
ggles overtook Emma and spread to Kimber. Tam cocked his head with a repulsed expression, neither laughing nor backing away.

  “How curious,” said Nan.

  Alan’s mother quivered with rage. She shot Emma a look that promised consequences. “I’m well aware, and very grateful, of the good your family does for our town, but you simply cannot let your granddaughter get away with such horrible things! I expect you’ll punish her?” The woman shifted her gaze to Nan.

  “Blargl!” Alan jabbed his finger at Emma. “Glargglglgl.”

  Tears streamed out of Emma’s eyes from laughing so hard.

  “Look at her!” yelled Alan’s mother. “She’s proud of herself.”

  “Oh, calm yourself Meredith.” Nan grasped Alan’s arm and led him inside. “Emma did not do this.”

  Alan’s mother shuffled in behind him, her venomous stare at Emma weakening. “You’re so sure of that? The girl is laughing at him.”

  Her son attempted to gurgle something, but rushed to dunk his head underwater again.

  “Look at him! He can’t breathe. She could’ve killed him.” Meredith sniffled and fought back tears.

  Emma stopped laughing. “I didn’t do anything to Alan. I laughed because he looked funny and made funny noises. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it could hurt him.”

  Nan guided the boy to a chair by the kitchen table. Emma stared with longing at the end of the room that used to hold the family bed. A group of comfortable, cushioned chairs sat atop a rug there by a small table, and a Da set up his desk full of logbooks against the wall where the shelf of clothes used to be.

  Alan lifted his head from the bucket and glared at Emma. He gasped, sending another pulse of water down the sides of his neck. “Glrgl?”

  “Well.” Nan placed her hand atop his head and examined him. “Whatever magic did this to him is far beyond anything Emma could’ve produced. She is nowhere learned enough. It is beyond imagination that she could’ve done this to him.”

  Emma padded over to stand by her grandmother. “What happened to him?”

  Kimber and Tam remained in the hallway, peering around the corner.

  Nan leaned back while the boy stuck his head in the water to take another breath. “A transformation like this… at least for one of our kind to inflict, is no simple spell. This would require a Druid’s Curse.”

  Mama entered from the back door, carrying the kettle she’d filled with water. At the sight of Alan, she almost dropped it. “By Mythandriel…”

  “Beth! Oh, something’s happened to Alan.” The boy’s mother looked from Mama to Nan. “How does one do this curse?”

  Nan flared her eyebrows with a smile. “Get far enough on my bad side.”

  “Meredith?” Mama hurried to put the kettle on the stove and approached the boy. “What’s he gotten into?”

  His mother, no longer furious, shot pleading stares at Nan and Mama. “I’ve no idea. I… thought your daughter did this. They got into a fight at the Cooper farm. Other boys had been teasing him over it.” She hugged Mama. “Oh, Beth… please help him!”

  “We’ll figure it out.” Mama patted her arm, but didn’t appear confident.

  Alan gurgled. His accusing stare had also lost its strength. He shivered in the chair, looking small and frightened. After a lamenting moan, he dunked his head again. His mother bit her knuckle and paced back and forth.

  “It appears to be an incomplete polymorph,” mumbled Nan.

  Mama nodded. “Oh. Yes, perhaps.”

  “Beth, you never did pay attention about wizards.” Nan clucked.

  Emma shivered and mumbled, “I don’t like wizards.”

  “A what?” His mother stopped pacing, staring at them.

  Nan patted the boy’s shoulder. “Sit here a moment, lad.” She ambled around the table over to the cabinet. “Polymorph is a magical term that means to change shape from one form into another. Such as from a person into a dog or cat. Your son appears to be part way between boy and fish.”

  Mama pulled a chair around next to Alan for his mother, excused herself, and swooped in beside Nan.

  Alan lifted his head out of the water and stared at Emma. “Glrgl.”

  She shook her head, shrugged, and tried to look as innocent as possible. “Really. I didn’t do this to you. I promise.”

  “Would you like tea or some bread?” asked Kimber, appearing beside the boy’s mother.

  “No… Thank you.” Meredith took her son’s hand and squeezed.

  Mama glanced back. “Em, fetch a bucket of fresh water. He’ll have breathed that one out by now.”

  “Yes, Mama.” She plucked the rat from her shoulder and set him on the floor.

  The rat scurried into the hallway, heading for his den. Emma jogged out back to the water pump, set a wooden bucket under it, and worked the handle. Kimber trailed outside with her, watching the water slosh and churn. When Emma stopped pumping, her sister grabbed the rope handle.

  “Tae much fer you’as tae lif’ ’lone.” Kimber smiled.

  Emma looked at the bucket, easily twice the size of the one Alan carried in. “Thanks.”

  Together, they lugged it back in and set it on the floor near Alan. He put his bucket on the table, slid from the chair to kneel by the bigger one, and stuck his head in. Emma held Kimber’s hand, mesmerized at the sight of what had happened to the boy. She couldn’t claim to like him much, in fact she cared for Alan less than Rydh at his worst, though she had changed her mind about him.

  Mama and Nan muttered amongst themselves while deciding on various things from the cabinet, returning some to the shelves, adding a few others to the crucible. At the weight of his mother’s stare, Emma made eye contact.

  “I promise I didn’t do anything to him.”

  The woman didn’t seem convinced, though she also appeared frightened that showing anger could make Nan think twice about helping. Whenever Alan didn’t have his head underwater, he scowled at Emma. Tam had evidently lost interest and returned to their room, and his book.

  Mama and Nan chanted together, and a white-green light appeared over their worktable. It faded in seconds. Mama headed for the stove while Nan carried a small wooden cup over to the boy.

  “Alan?”

  He raised his head from the bucket.

  Nan offered him the cup. “This should put you back to rights. You’ll need to drink all of it.”

  “Glrb!” He took the cup in both hands and chugged it, shaking it to chase two more drops onto his tongue.

  Nan took the cup back, and smiled.

  “He’s still half fish,” muttered his mother.

  Alan stared at her.

  “Give it a moment,” said Nan, still smiling.

  The fish-boy looked around the room, blinking in confusion for a little while. Emma balanced on one leg, scratching her shin with her foot, not wanting to take her gaze off him lest she miss anything.

  “Glrp!” yelled Alan.

  He grasped the front of his neck and squeezed. His eyes shot open wide. The all-black orbs shrank and turned green. Gagging, he collapsed on all fours, convulsing and vomiting up water. Talon-like fingernails receded as the scaly, teal coloration to his arms gave way to a light, even tan. Fins along the backs of his arms and calves shrank away to nothing. With a great, gasping breath, Alan sat back on his heels, looking fully human and as exhausted as if he’d run around Widowswood Town six times.

  His mother pounced on him, squeezing and crying. He reached up to grasp her arms where they circled his chest, and fixed Emma with a glare.

  “It’s Emma’s fault,” wheezed Alan. “I saw her.”

  “Oh did you now?” asked Nan, raising an eyebrow.

  Alan nodded. “We were swimming in the river and it just happened to me. I looked and saw her running away laughing.”

  Emma put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been home all day. I haven’t even gone outside. We’ve been moving things around the house.”

  “Aye,” said Mama. “Em’s been in sight of my
mother or I all day.”

  “Past few days even,” said Nan. “And, need I remind you again, that no matter how angry Emma may have gotten with you, a Druid’s Curse is quite well beyond her.”

  “That also wasn’t a Druid’s Curse.” Mama carried cups to the table. “It’s wizard’s magic and no one in our family has that gift.”

  “Well, I saw someone running away.” Alan looked down. “But she’s a witch and can’t be trusted.”

  His mother squeezed his shoulders and looked up with an apologetic expression. “Forgive me… I don’t understand these things. I know the kids had a spat and… I don’t think your daughter did this.”

  “Think no more of it.” Mama smiled. “I understand your need to protect your son. Tea?”

  “Oh…” The woman stood and pulled Alan to his feet. “I fear we’ve imposed quite enough already.”

  Alan pointed at Emma. “But—”

  “Do you honestly believe she did it or are you accusing her out of spite?” His mother gave him a stern look.

  “Ma, no one else would wanna do that to me.”

  His mother hardened her voice. “Did you see Emma?”

  “No.” He hung his head. “Just a shadow running away.”

  “I’m sorry for barging in on you like this.” Meredith offered apologetic bows to Mama and Nan before pulling Alan close. “Tell them you’re sorry for accusing her.”

  Alan muttered something.

  She gave his ear a squeeze.

  He cringed, twisting up on tiptoe. “I’m sorry for saying it was Emma.”