'What about my teeth? Surely they're not supposed to look like that.'
She checked my gums and teeth with her fingers. 'No, dear. You're quite correct. They're a tad too sharp. But it's not an obvious flaw, and besides that, they're nice and white. Good gums too. The tongue has a little fork in it, but only if you're looking for it.'
She ordered me into a seat, still naked and slightly damp from the bath.
'Are you certain you spent all your life in that basement?'
I nodded.
'No exercise. Dismal diet. Dwelling in filth. Yet somehow you come out like this. Not even half-mad as far as I can tell.'
'You mean, I'm not cursed, ma'am?'
'Oh, you are cursed, child, and undead. That much is certain. Curses come in many forms however, and not all are as bad. Especially death curses. It's tricky enough to cast a decent spell when you're still alive. But throwing one out as you're expiring requires a certain knack. Apparently, the wizard who cursed your family was not as in control of his magic as he should've been. The undead part came through, but the hideousness element didn't quite make it. The magic must've had a better idea as it sometimes does.'
She handed me a towel. 'Cover yourself, dear. I can't bear to look upon you anymore.'
I did as I was told.
'That's the thing about death curses. One really shouldn't employ them unless one feels they can pull it off. It just makes the rest of us look bad.'
She spent several minutes rocking in her chair, mulling over the situation. A dread fell upon me. I didn't want to be sent back to my cellar if I could help it. Given no other choice, I'd accepted my fate. Now my universe was filled with other possibilities, and I didn't want to lose them.
Ghastly Edna snapped up from her chair.
'Well, dear, the magic called me to you. Far be it from me to contradict it. Your loveliness just means you'll have to work harder at your witchery A handicap yes, but not an insurmountable one.' She peeled the wart from her nose. 'False, darling.' She winked.
She proceeded to wipe the greenish makeup from her face to reveal skin that, while rough and haggard, was not especially hideous. She removed six layers of clothing to show that her hunch was nothing more than an illusion of well-placed fabric. When she removed her hat, I realized that Ghastly Edna was a large and ugly woman, but not at all witchly without her full outfit.
'We all need a little help, dear. You just need far more than I. Now let me see what I have here that might do the trick.' She began digging through various moldy trunks filled with equally moldy clothing.
My heart leaped with joy
Ghastly Edna spent the next six months acquainting me with the ins and outs of witchly wardrobe. Wearing just the right outfit was fifty percent of a witch's business, she ex plained. She was not exaggerating. It took a great deal of work to make one look as bad as was expected. Especially for me, my mentor pointed out, as I was afflicted with a form most unsuitable for a witch.
Once I'd mastered the art of looking witchly, she proceeded to teach me the black arts: necromancy, demonology the forgotten language of unspeaking things, and forbidden nature lore. The powers of magic that had drawn Ghastly Edna to me had not been mistaken, and in due course, I mastered the craft of the witch.
And for a while, I was happy.
Until the dark day when they finally killed her.
2
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However long it took, it was soon after I'd learned everything she could teach me that she woke me early one morning. The morning light perturbed the undead in me, and Ghastly Edna respected this. I knew right away something was wrong.
'No questions, dear,' she said. 'I need you to go to the lake.'
I stirred from my bed. 'But, mistress ...'
She put her fingers to my lips. 'Shush, child. I don't have time to explain, and even if I did, I don't have to. You'll do as
I nodded.
'Very good. Now you must go and bathe yourself in the lake. And I'm not talking about merely your face and hands. I mean, your entire body I know the light will bother you, so you can wear your hat to shade your eyes. But otherwise, you must strip off every other stitch. After you've gotten yourself nice and clean, you must hurry back. I'll be dead by then, and we'll have one last talk before I go.'
This final piece of news stopped me cold.
'But...'
'I said, shush, child. Now get dressed. We'll have time to talk when you return. But you must hurry to the lake.' She lumbered from my small room, barely squeezing through the door. 'And don't bother with the whole outfit. Just your hat and your black dress, that one with the loose skirt.'
I always did as Ghastly Edna told, and today was no exception. As I got dressed, I couldn't help but think about her death. Not for a moment did I doubt it was going to be. She often spoke of the future and other things that she could not know. It was the magic. It talked to her, and as far as I could tell, it never lied. It was not fate, she'd explained once, but rather the past yet to be. Not to be confused with the future that might come or the present that never was. Subtle distinctions I'd never truly understood, but Ghastly Edna had reassured me this was not my fault. It could not be properly explained by her. Only by the magic, and the magic had never talked to me. Rather, I'd yet to hear it.
I slipped on my dress. It was comfortable cloth cut in a most unflattering way. It failed to hide away all the unwanted charms of my unwitchly form, but it was better than nothing. Normally, I wouldn't dare be seen outside without a tattered cloak and a frumpy shawl. I scowled, pressing a palm against my flat stomach. I'd been working to develop a flabby belly and chubby behind for as long as I could remember. The curse kept them tight and toned, no matter how much I ate.
'Hurry up, dear,' Ghastly Edna said.
I grabbed my hat, tattered and pointed with a wide brim, and headed for the door. On the way out, I stopped and watched my mistress, her back to me, fussing over the stove.
She did not turn around. 'And take Newt with you. He'll soon be yours anyway Might as well get used to each other.'
I still couldn't bring myself to leave. Not that I thought staying would do much good. If the magic said she was to die then I couldn't stop it.
'Be off, child.' She glanced over her shoulder. 'Don't make me box your ears.'
'Yes, ma'am.'
The hard light burned my eyes. I tolerated it, but its rays prickled my skin. I shivered beneath a warm breeze. I pulled my brim over my face and gave myself time to adjust to the morning.
I called for Newt.
'You don't have to shout,' he said from the cabin roof. 'I'm right here.'
'We have to go to the lake.'
Newt cocked his head to one side, squinting one eye at me. 'What?'
'The mistress ordered it.'
He cocked his head the other way. 'What for?'
'She didn't say. Just that we must hurry'
'We?'
'You're to come with me.'
'Are you certain?'