The Trouble with Witches
By Verna McKinnon

ara poured the morning tea.  Winnie, her little elf owl, preened her feathers on the perch.  Duncan sat at the kitchen table, a scroll floating before him, munching buttered toast.

“I’m still waiting for my breakfast,” Winnie said.

“Sorry, Winnie,” Tara apologized, “Scone or toast?”

“Scone please,” Winnie replied.

With a wave of Tara’s hand, a scone rose from the platter and then floated to Winnie’s dish.

“Thank you,” Winnie said, and began nibbling with dainty ferocity.

“Do you like being back at school, my dear?” Duncan asked.

“Oh, yes,” Tara answered.  “The advanced courses are much more interesting.  I even like the professors.  Well, most of them.”   

“Tara, aren’t you going to be late?” Duncan asked.

“Not at all,” Tara replied and sat down.  She took a piece of toast and spooned a large dollop of strawberry jam on it, smearing the bread thickly.  “My class on transmutation this morning was cancelled.  There’s some sort of flu going around.  We’ve had two professors out sick this week.”  She crunched her toast and added a heavy measure of cream and honey to her tea.

Duncan wondered where she put it all.  She was slim as a wand.  He looked down at his thickening waist, cursing the morose evils of buttery cakes and fried potatoes.

“Oh, my potion teacher, Professor Daphne, wants to talk to you,” Tara said, piercing Duncan’s depressed thoughts.

Duncan’s brow knotted as he tried to think of who she was.   

“Stop hunting down memory road,” Tara said.  “She’s new this year, so you’ve never met her.  Professor Daphne is my potion teacher,” Tara added.     

“Well, at least my mind isn’t going to seed,” Duncan laughed. 

“Professor Daphne is very strict,” Tara sighed sadly.

Duncan chewed his toast, reading his scroll.  “I’m sure your professor is very nice, dear.”
Tara grimaced and with impatience snatched Duncan’s scroll.

“Hey!  Give me back my scroll!” Duncan protested.

“I’m telling you about Professor Daphne.  It’s important!”

“Why, Tara?” Duncan said with exasperation.

Tara lowered her eyes and confessed in a whisper, “Because Professor Daphne wants to talk to you about my grades.”

That got his attention.

“But, I thought you were doing well at the Academy?” Duncan said with concern.

Tara said in a small voice, “I’m just having trouble getting the mixtures right.”

Duncan said, “Well, then I will speak with her today.  I will also tutor you myself.”

“Yes, it might help.” Tara agreed grimly.  “But you could speak with her at the Spring Reception tomorrow night instead,” Tara suggested.  “Professor Daphne will be in a better mood after cake and punch.”

“I don’t want to go to a party,” Duncan grumbled.

“Please!” Tara pleaded.  “It will be fun.  And it will be a much kinder atmosphere to discuss my academic fate.”

“Very well,” Duncan sighed. 

“Good,” Tara said.  After a moment she asked, “Have you considered shaving your beard?”

Duncan eyed Tara suspiciously.  “What does that have to do with meeting your professor?” 

Tara shrugged, and said, “Nothing, but you’re not horribly old-yet.  Why look it?  You should get out and socialize more.  This party is a fine opportunity!  You should enjoy the few good years you have left.” 

“How compassionate of you,” Duncan said dryly.

Tara explained quickly, “I think you would look younger without that ratty beard.  Have you thought about cutting your hair?”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Duncan gasped, his hands flying up to his long silver mane.

Tara laughed and shrugged, “Nothing.  If you want to look like a crazed hermit that disdains grooming.”

Rex the cat stalked into the kitchen, yawning.  “What’s all the yammering about?” he asked as he jumped up on the table.

“Morning Rex,” Tara said.  “I was just telling Uncle Duncan that he would look better without that ratty beard.”

“It would be an improvement,” Rex agreed.  “Your face does look like a squirrel’s nest.”

“Rex!” Duncan cried.  “I thought my own familiar would be on my side.” 

“I call them as I see them, Duncan,” Rex replied.  “Speaking of squirrels, where’s my breakfast?”

“There’s toast and scones,” Tara offered.

“I would prefer bacon soaked with maple syrup” Rex replied, swishing his tale.

Duncan raised an eyebrow and said, “Isn’t that a bit heavy, Rex?  You’ve gotten a bit stout lately.”

“Now you’re just being vindictive,” Rex snorted.

“I call them as I see them,” Duncan replied with a glint in his eye.

Rex said lazily, “I’m a predator.  A pantherus of prey.  My hunting physique is in top condition.”

Duncan grinned and said, “The last time you hunted anything, a family of hamsters chased you up a tree, and I had to rescue you.”

“They surprised me,” Rex moaned.  “And they were giant hamsters.”

“Of course they were,” Tara grinned.

“I’m sure they were rabid, too,” Rex said firmly.

Tara grinned, wiped her mouth clean of jam, and put her dish in the sink.  Duncan looked at Tara suspiciously.  “What’s Professor Daphne like?” Duncan asked.

Tara gathered her books and said, “The usual.  You know how fussy academic types are.  You were one for…how many centuries?”

“Don’t press it, Tara,” Duncan warned.

“Well, I’m off to class,” Tara said and kissed Duncan on the forehead.  “Come on Winnie.” The tiny owl fluttered to rest upon Tara’s shoulder.

After she had gone, Duncan munched more toast, and pondered the cruelty of youth.  Rex was staring at him.  Duncan asked, “What now?”

Rex chuckled, “You have crumbs in your beard.”

*     *     *     *     *

Groaning, Duncan strained to pull the tunic over his head.  It was snug around the middle.

“Another tunic shrink in the wash?” Rex inquired.  “Or has Tara’s cooking cast a nasty spell on you?”  The scruffy brown tabby lounged on the bed, and added, “Perhaps fairies snuck in and exchanged your clothes for teeny copies to vex you—”

“Enough, Rex,” Duncan sighed, feeling morose.  He gave Rex a nasty stare and said, “Perhaps fairies exchanged you for a sarcastic changeling?  In case you haven’t noticed, Rex, you’re a bit thicker too.”

“It’s all muscle,” Rex said.

“I wish I didn’t have to go to this blasted function.  I’m not a party wizard,” Duncan sighed.

Rapid knocks sounded on his bedroom door with Tara’s urgent voice shouting, “Uncle Duncan!  Aren’t you ready yet?  We’re going to be late.”

“Oh, blast!” Duncan groaned with frustration.  He stopped struggling, waved his hands, and his clothes shimmered briefly.  When the magic settled, the tunic hung more loosely on his frame.  “Being a wizard has its rewards.”

“Cheater,” Rex snickered.

“Desperate measures for desperate measurements,” Duncan laughed.

Duncan picked up Rex and stepped into the parlor.  Duncan gasped when he saw Tara.  Her lush black hair was swept off her face with pearl combs.  Her teal silk dress complimented her green eyes, but the tight bodice was far too low cut, revealing her youthful curves.

Little Winnie perched on her shoulder delicately, and said, “Well say something, Duncan!  Doesn’t she look pretty?”

“You look exposed, young lady,” Duncan replied firmly.

“Oh, don’t you dare be a fuddy duddy!” Tara warned.  She picked up her multi-colored shawl, and grabbed him by the arm, pushing him out the door.  

*     *     *     *     *

When they reached the Mage Tower, the halls buzzed lights and noise.  Students and teachers mingled in the large room as a small quartet of musicians played in the background.  Colorful lights glowed from candles that hovered high in the air of the reception room, and silk streamers in spring colors lined the room.  Everyone dressed in vibrant clothes.  Duncan felt a bit drab in his gray tunic and black trousers.  Nonsense, he thought to himself.  He was a mature wizard, not an adolescent boy.  Speaking of boys, several were circling Tara now, with eager anticipation.

“Should we rescue her?” Duncan whispered to Rex.

Rex replied, “Not if you want her to speak to you for the next fortnight.  Relax, it’s a party.  She’s pretty and young.”

Duncan sighed.  “I know.  That’s the trouble.” 

Tara’s soft peals of laughter echoed as her court of admirers vied for her attention.  She accepted punch and little cakes with a bright smile.  He saw Tara in a new light, and with a sudden fierceness, he felt very, very old. 

“Let’s get something to eat,” Rex suggested.  “I have a hankering for cucumber and sardine sandwiches—no crust.”

They were elbowing their way through the crowd of young mages and old colleagues, when a willowy woman with long flaming red hair bumped into them.  She held a long- haired ginger colored cat in her arms.

“Oh dear, excuse me,” she said.  “Are you Duncan the Wizard?  I’m Professor Daphne.”

Duncan was stunned by her regal beauty.  Her oval face was delicate, with large blue eyes and high cheekbones.  She had a charming sprinkling of pale freckles on her face and smelled of delicate perfume.

“Close your mouth, Duncan,” Rex said, sitting on his shoulder.  “I’m Rex, familiar to Duncan.”

Duncan laughed, hoping to reduce his embarrassment.  “Well, it’s a bit crowded in here.”

“Yes it is,” Daphne agreed.  “Oh, this is my familiar, Isabella.”

The elegant cat lifted her round face and blinked.  “Hello,” she said. 

“Let’s step outside for some fresh air,” Daphne suggested with a warm smile.

“Allow me to bring the punch,” Duncan offered.  “We need to discuss Tara’s situation.”

“Yes, I know,” Daphne nodded.  “I’ll meet you outside in the courtyard by the old magnolia tree,” she smiled. 

Duncan watched her move through the crowd with languid grace.  “That’s quite a woman,” Duncan whispered.

“That’s quite a feline,” Rex added.  “Isabella, you are going to me mine.”

“Rex, behave!” Duncan scolded him, ladling two cups of punch.  “Don’t go tomcat on me; not tonight.”

“But I’m primal,” Rex replied. 

They found Daphne sitting on a stone bench near the old magnolia tree, with Isabella curled on her lap.  The heavy boughs were prosperous with deep green leaves, and the opulent white magnolia blossoms glistened in the sunset. 

Duncan tripped on a cracked cobblestone.  “Oh, blast, blast!” Duncan grumbled.  He spilled half the punch, some of it splashing on his tunic. 

Daphne laid the sleepy Isabella on the bench and went to him.  She took one of the cups and dabbed the red stain on his tunic with her silk handkerchief.  “Fortunately we are magical,” she said.  Her fingers shimmered, and the spot vanished.

“Thank you,” Duncan said.

“My pleasure,” Daphne replied softly.  “Come; sit with me while we talk.  The moon is quite bright tonight.  I just love this tree.  Magnolias are so beautiful.”

“Yes, they are,” Duncan agreed nervously.

Rex took the opportunity to sit next to Isabella, who ignored him while she groomed her silky tail.

“Tara said you wanted to speak to me,” Daphne said.  “She says you're not happy with her progress in potions.”

Duncan stopped in mid-sip and said, “But Tara said you wanted to talk to me about her progress because she was not doing well.”

Daphne shook her head.  In a confused tone, she said, “But Tara is at the top of her class.  She excels at potions.  She said you were concerned about her grades.”

Daphne and Duncan looked at each other a moment, and then they both laughed.

Daphne said, “I think we are the unwitting victims of a strange enchantment-named Tara.”

“I think it’s also referred to as a ‘fix-up,’” Duncan said.

“She should be punished,” Daphne said lightly.  “However, I am not inclined to so at this time—yet.”

“I am also enjoying your company,” Duncan said.  He sensed a familiar tingle in the air.  He said sternly, “You can come out now, Tara.  I can sense your magic.”

Tara dissolved the magic that made her blend in with the background.  She stepped away from the bushes with a bowed head.

“A camouflage spell, dear?” Daphne inquired.

Tara nodded.  Winnie complained, “I told you he would sniff us out!”

“When did you learn to do that?” Duncan asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tara shrugged.  “I was researching the spell books at the library, and thought it might be fun to try it.”

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, Tara,” Daphne said seriously. 

Duncan was about to scold Tara when a deep baritone voice imposed on their cozy circle.

“Excuse me, Professor Daphne.” 

Duncan glanced up to see a polished man with glossy black hair and deep blue eyes.  He was impeccable in his style of dress, a sleek ensemble with a pale blue silk tunic over silver velvet trousers and black, shiny leather boots.  On his right hand a large round ruby ring shimmered; in his left hand a tiny blue and green snake coiled around his wrist.

He bowed with causal elegance and said, “I apologize for the intrusion, but Professor Daphne promised me a dance.”

“Oh Valentin, I forgot,” Daphne blushed.  “May I present Duncan, a former professor of the Academy and uncle of my student, Tara.  Duncan, this is Valentin, the new Headmaster.”

“Good evening,” Valentin said.  The elegant Wizard stroked his small snake, and it lifted its tiny head with pleasure.  “This is my familiar, Max.”

“It’s a pleasant evening,” Max said, his head bobbing.

It was pleasant, Duncan thought glumly.

“Well, if you will excuse us,” Valentin said, and with a firm grip and excessive charm, he took Daphne’s hand.

“Well, perhaps we can talk later,” Daphne whispered to Duncan as Valentin pulled her away.

Isabella the cat said followed Daphne back into the hall.  “Good night, Rex.”

Rex flicked his tail and said, “Did you hear that?  She wants me.”

“Did you hear him?” Duncan fumed.  “What an arrogant pansy.”

“Don’t give Valentin any room,” Rex insisted.  “Go dance with her.”

“I’m a horrible dancer,” Duncan said morosely.

Rex cocked his scruffy head and replied, “It’s either that or turn Valentin into a toad.”

“There are laws against that,” Duncan said.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Rex replied.

“Well, did you like her?” Tara asked shyly.

“Daphne?  Yes, I did; however, I do not need my niece to play matchmaker—”

“I just thought you might have some things in common, being old and all,” Tara grinned.

“I’m sure we do, despite my ancient state,” Duncan replied.  “Perhaps we both sip hot cocoa before bed.”

“Really?” Tara said brightly.

Duncan fingered his beard and said, “Perhaps it is time for a change.  Give Valentin a little competition.”

Tara said, “Good!  I don’t like him.”

Duncan looked at her and said, “I would have thought such a handsome fellow would have all the young witches swooning with desire.”

“He’s…oily,” Tara said cautiously.  “He is not right somehow.  I think he’s hiding something.  Oh, let’s get some cakes,” Tara suggested.  “I’m hungry.”

“What a surprise,” Duncan commented dryly. 

*     *     *     *     *

After three days of tortured consideration, Duncan succumbed to Tara’s insistence that he cut his hair.  He sat in the kitchen chair, took a deep breath, and asked tensely, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Tara stood behind him with the scissors and said impatiently, “Yes.  Sit still and please relax.  It won’t hurt.  Then you can shave your beard.”

“My face will be naked,” Duncan grumbled, “for the first time in decades.”

Winnie the owl, resting on her perch in the kitchen, chuckled, “You’re a human.  One would expect you to be used to being without fur and feathers for warmth.  Tara doesn’t have a beard.  It doesn’t bother her.”

Rex flopped down and snickered, “If Tara had a beard, then we would really have a problem requiring magic healers.”

“Very funny!” Tara sneered.  She grabbed a handful of his long silver locks and snipped.

“Ouch!” Duncan winced.

“That didn’t hurt you!” Tara protested.

Duncan moaned, “It was a metaphorical exclamation of loss.”

After the haircut, Duncan retreated to the bath chamber.  With solemn and meticulous care he shaved his beard—alone.  He nicked himself several times.  His skill with a razor was dull from lack of practice.  He washed his face and looked into the mirror to see a mature face, but still vital.  There were no frightening sags or wrinkles.  His now-short silver hair, brushed back softly, did make him look younger.  However, between the haircut and shave, he had a wretched case of itching from the tiny hair fragments.  When he finally exited the bath chamber, Tara and the familiars looked stunned.

“You look great!  A hundred years younger!” Tara said excitedly, clapping her hands. 

Duncan laughed, and said, “Well, it does look better.  I feel strangely renewed with vigor.”

“You look like you battled a hedgehog,” Rex said.  “There’s a hundred little cuts on your face.”

“Be nice, Rex!” Winnie scolded and pecked Rex’s tail.   

“Now we need to work on the wardrobe,” Tara said.  “Let’s go to the village.”

Duncan asked, “What about class this afternoon?  I thought you had a class with Professor Daphne?”

Tara said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you.  Classes are cancelled for the rest of the week.  That flu epidemic is taking down the whole academic populace.”

Duncan pondered this a moment.  “Perhaps this would be a good time to call on Daphne with an offering of soup and flowers?  Does she reside at school, Tara?”

“Yes,” Tara answered with a smile.  “She is staying in one of the cottages behind the tower.” 

“We will score points with the ladies,” Rex agreed.  “Perhaps I should bring Isabella a mouse tied with pink ribbon?”

“Gross,” Tara said.

“To each his condiments,” Rex replied.

*     *     *     *     *

Behind the mage tower, the cluster of teacher cottages was well maintained and charming.  On the surface, everything looked normal and peaceful—too peaceful.  They passed the giant magnolia tree, and on a whim, Duncan plucked one of the large blossoms for Daphne.

“Where is everyone?” Duncan asked curiously.  “The tower is packed with students and flustered teachers.  Even with all this sickness about, there should be some activity.”

“It is odd,” Tara agreed.  

“Which house is Daphne’s?” Duncan asked.

Tara pointed.  “The last one with the green roof.”

“I don’t like this,” Winnie said as they walked the cobblestone path to Daphne’s cottage.  “It feels quite creepy.  I don’t like creepy things, unless they are edible.”

They reached Daphne’s cottage and knocked.  No answer.

“Maybe she’s sleeping?” Tara whispered.

“Hello!  Daphne, are you there?” Duncan asked, knocking louder.  Duncan turned the latch and the door swung open.  They stepped inside and looked around.  The interior was neat and tidy, with vases of flowers decorating her tables, her cups and plates sparkling on the cupboard in neat rows, and the pristine bed, topped with a pale green silk quilt.

Tara stayed in the doorway.  “There’s nobody home.” she remarked. 

“Let’s leave,” Winnie said, her little owl head rotating back and forth.

“She was here,” Duncan noted.  He touched the kettle on the small stove.  “It’s still warm.  Nothing is askew, yet everything seems wrong.”

“What now?” Tara asked.

Duncan turned around as he said, “Tara, I want you to go—”

A burst of raw white magic blinded Duncan with burning light.

Then he knew nothing.

*     *     *     *     *

“He’s awake.”

Duncan moaned, every inch of his body vibrating from the mystical assault.  Groggy and cranky, Duncan looked up to see Valentin holding a glowing purple crystal over him. Valentin’s ruby ring glittered in the shadows.  The tiny snake, Max, curled around Valentin’s arm, bobbing his head curiously.

Duncan’s head throbbed and he felt queasy.  “Stop that,” Duncan said angrily.  He realized he was still in Daphne’s cottage.  The magnolia blossom lay on the floor next to him.  But he didn’t see Tara or the familiars!  Duncan tried to sit up.  It was only then he realized he was bound shoulder to toe with ropes that neither magic nor strength would undo them.  “Untie me, Valentin!” he demanded.

Valentin said in a bored voice, “Please refrain from struggling.  The cords are enchanted.”

Duncan’s vision was still blurry.  “Where’s Tara?” Duncan shouted.  “Where’s Rex and Winnie, you peacock!  If anything happens to Tara, you can enchant all the ropes from here to the moon, but it won’t save you!”

Valentin’s smiled rakishly, and said, “You are in a bind, aren’t you?”

“Puns are unnecessary, Valentin.” 

“No matter, you are human.”  The crystal ceased its brutal light.  Valentin made a hand gesture, and the ropes fell away.

Duncan winced as he stood up.  “What do you mean, human?” he snapped.

“My, you do have a temper,” Valentin remarked.

“Being tied up makes me cranky,” Duncan said darkly.

“Very well.  I’m not a teacher.  I am Investigator Valentin for the Mage Council.”  Valentin lit the lamp on the table and said, “I apologize, but I almost didn’t recognize you, Duncan.  My compliments on your new look.  I had to be sure it was you because something evil is happening here.”

“All this muck about a flu epidemic is a ruse, isn’t it?” Duncan asked.

“I will admit to that,” Valentin replied smoothly.

Duncan’s temper exploded.  He seized Valentin by his velvet collar and said harshly, “Where is Tara and our familiars!  I will not ask again.”

“I don’t know where they are, Duncan,” Valentin said seriously.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.  They weren’t here when I arrived.”

“Valentin, I swear I will turn you into a rodent unless you explain!” Duncan threatened. 

Valentin said, “Several teachers and students are missing.  They’ve been dwindling one by one for weeks.  This has happened before in three different towns.  It’s only the mages that disappear, Duncan, only the mages.”

“Have any ever been found?” Duncan asked fearfully.

“Yes, when it was too late.  When we find the missing mages, their magic is not only gone, but tragically so are their minds.  Even their poor familiars suffer the same fate.  They are merely shells.  I believe some unknown creature is doing this, but it always escapes.  I have been hunting it for months!  All I know for sure is the monster can take on many disguises and steals magic.”

“Is there anything else can you tell me about this creature?” Duncan asked quickly, his mind buzzing.

“Not much,” Valentin replied.  “Its victims are always found cocooned in some dark place.”

“It must be a drachmagi demon,” Duncan whispered.

“What is that?” Valentin asked in a confused tone.

“The common translation is ‘drinker of magic.’  It is a rare, ancient demon species.  Drachmagi feed on magic.”

“I don’t recall any such creature in my studies,” Valentin said smugly.

“People think they’re a fable because of their rarity.  According to the old myths, they can take the shape of any person or creature for a short time.  The demon is a type of succubus, except it does not feed on youth or souls, but magic.  A great deal is not known, but they do hibernate for a hundred years or so, according to the ancient legends, which explains why you may not have been taught about them—and why there has not been such attacks in recent memory.”   

“But you remember?” Valentin replied.

“Age has its benefits,” Duncan said.  Fear gnawed at Duncan when he thought of his family in the demon’s clutches.  Duncan said firmly, “I need to find Tara before it’s too late.”

“How?” Valentin asked. 

“I know how,” Duncan said.

*     *     *     *     *

They hurried to Duncan’s cottage.  Duncan dug through his old wooden chest, tossing out runes and scrolls until he found a map and a blue crystal.

“What’s that for?” Valentin asked.

“It will locate Tara.”  Duncan laid the map out on the wooden table and held the crystal above it.

“Are you sure this will work?” Max asked.

“Positive,” Duncan said.  His hand moved across the map.  When they came to a spot where the caves were near the sea, it glowed like the sun.  “She’s there in those caves.  Something tells me so are the missing mages from the tower.”

“How can you be so sure?” Valentin asked, curious.

“A special spell I concocted.  Looking after a teenager is hard enough, but a teenage witch!  I insisted Tara donate a lock of her hair.  I bonded it to this moon crystal so if she was ever lost or in trouble, I could find her.”

“Tara must be very exasperating,” Valentin commented.

“She’s my niece,” Duncan said.  “And I’m the only one that can criticize her.”

“Point taken,” Valentin conceded with a grin.

They decided to fly toward the caves by the sea to save time.  Duncan was glad he did not have to keep up with the youthful Valentin in a race on tired legs.  Thankfully, the tangy salt air and brisk wind sharpened Duncan’s senses, and he welcomed that.  They landed near the cave’s mouth.

“We must be careful going in,” Valentin warned.

“No kidding,” Duncan replied dryly.

“I brought my sword,” Valentin said, “Perhaps you should conjure up one too.”

“I fare better with magic,” Duncan said. 

“As you wish,” Valentin replied.

“We’ll use a night vision spell,” Duncan suggested.  “If we can see in the dark, we won’t need a torch.  We don’t want to alert anyone—or anything.”

When they entered the cave, they could see quite well in the dark tunnels.  Duncan wished he had used some enchantment to spare his sense of smell.  It was quite rank.  The long tunnels opened into a wide cave.  What they saw shocked them.

Several cocoons lined the walls of the rocky cave.  They rushed toward them, and tore away the sticky webs.  Inside those cocoons were people, revealing pale, dry features of trapped witches and wizards.  They were all in a deep mystical coma.  Tears burned Duncan’s eyes as he searched for Tara and the familiars.  Then an angry, muffled sound at the far end of the tunnel caught Duncan’s attention.  He ran down to that cocoon and clawed away the webbing to reveal Winnie, Rex, and Tara!  Winnie and Rex were bound in magical slumber, but Tara was still awake.

“Get me out of here!” Tara cried.  “It heard you coming; else I’d be sleeping too!  Oh, it’s hideous, Duncan!”

“Hold on, dear,” Duncan said, ripping away at the webs.  “Thank the gods you are still whole!”  He pulled Tara from the sticky cocoon and set her on her feet.  “Are you hurt?” Duncan asked.

Tara shook her head.  “No.”  Frantic, she peeled at the gooey webs.  “Just in desperate need of a bath!”

“Duncan!  Thank heavens!” wept a feminine voice.

“Look,” Tara cried, pointing.  “It’s Professor Daphne!”

Duncan spun around to see Daphne stumbling toward him.  Isabella was in her arms, unconscious like the other familiars.  Daphne fell into Duncan’s arms, and he comforted her gently.  Duncan looked around the cave, searching for Valentin.  “Where Valentin?” Duncan asked.  “He was here a moment ago.”

“I didn’t see him,” Daphne said in a choked voice.

Duncan’s stifled the urge to call out to Valentin.  But the beast was still here somewhere.  He was sure of it. 

Duncan turned to Tara.  “Help me take Rex and Winnie out of here.  We need to get help.”

Then a wretched suspicion clouded Duncan’s joy at finding Daphne.  Fear tingled along Duncan’s spine as Daphne embraced him.  “How did you escape?” Duncan asked in a low voice.

“It was spinning a cocoon around me when it heard you coming.  It’s horrid, Duncan.  It had not put me to sleep yet.  It came to my cottage as Valentin, and then turned into a monster!”  She broke into sobs, and continued, “I managed to rip away the webs and escape.”

“Duncan, get away from her,” Valentin shouted.  He was standing at the cave entrance, sword in his hand.  “She’s the demon, Duncan.  I found Daphne’s cocoon in the next tunnel.  That’s not Daphne!”

Valentin cast an entrapment spell and imprisoned Daphne in a glowing red sphere.  The mystical walls muted her cries to a faint echo.

“How foolish!  She could have killed you!” Valentin admonished him.  Valentin marched toward them, sword in hand.  He glared at Daphne in the sphere.  “I should kill it now!”  He raised his sword. 

“Don’t you dare!” Tara shouted.  “How do we know you aren’t the creature?”

“Wait!” Duncan shouted.  “Tara’s right.  We must make sure.  You were gone, Valentin.  Anything could have happened to you too.”

Valentin glared at Duncan.  The brief camaraderie between the two evaporated.  Something was off.  It irked Duncan.  Then two things hit him when he looked at his hands-Max wasn’t coiled around his wrist and Valentin’s vulgar ruby ring was missing!  Duncan stepped back. 

“Tara, get out of here!” he ordered.

“No!” Tara protested.  “I won’t leave you!”

“Stubborn little witch,” Valentin said.

“You’re not Valentin,” Duncan said coldly.

It laughed as Valentin’s image vanished, revealing a hideous monster.  The skin was dull gray shade with a hairless leathery texture.  Its face and body was gaunt and twisted, with lidless, bulbous yellow eyes that stared at him with rancor.  The hands were bony and gnarled, replete with needle-like black claws.  The creature snarled, and struck Duncan with a powerful blow of magic that threw him several feet.  Duncan hit the ground with brutal force. 

“Tara, run!” Duncan shouted as he rolled in the sand.  When he pushed himself up on his elbows, Tara was gone. 

Good.  She finally listened to him.

Poor Daphne was beating against her shimmering prison.  Her cat Isabella floated in the red sphere with her, oblivious in her mystic coma.

The creature summoned an orb of gray magic in its hand and hurled it at Duncan.  Duncan levitated swiftly, banging his head against the rocky ceiling.  The orb splattered against the cave wall, and its cruel web spread on the damp stone walls.  Several blows of magic from the demon lit up the chamber.  Duncan managed dodge the bolts in the air, and cast bolts of fiery magic at the drachmagi demon.

“I should have taken you too,” the demon sneered in a grizzled voice.  “Your magic is stronger than I suspected, old man.  I will add you to my larder.  Then I will feed before I sleep again.”

Then Duncan realized that the demon fed on the magic he fought with.  The demon hummed with joy when Duncan hurled his most dangerous ray of sorcery.  The scarlet magic shimmered around the demon’s body, and absorbed its power.  “Delicious,” the demon remarked, licking its sharp claws.

“Damn!” Duncan grumbled.  “How do I kill this thing?”

“Come down here, you stupid old wizard!” the demon hissed.

“Don’t talk to my uncle like that.”

Suddenly, Tara appeared behind the demon.  Her camouflage spell cloaked her until that last second.  Furious and covered in silken webs, Tara whacked the demon hard across the back of the head with big stick of driftwood.  The beast crumbled at Tara’s feet. 

“Tara move away!” Duncan shouted, flying over to her.  He landed and pushed Tara away from the demon.  The demon rose like a phoenix.  A long black tongue shot out at Duncan.  Duncan ducked and summoned the sword to him.  It flew to his open hand.  He gripped the hilt in his hand as the demon grabbed him by the throat.

“Your magic will feed me,” the demon hissed.

“Feast on this!” Duncan wheezed, and thrust the blade deep into the drachmagi’s body.  The beast howled.  Foul, black blood seeped from the wound.  The demon released the choking grip on his throat and fell to the ground.  It spasmed for a heartbeat, and then died.  Duncan stood over the creature, and then raised the sword and struck off the demon’s head.  Duncan staggered back, exhausted.  He shouted, “Tara!  Are you all right?”  He looked around, “Where are you?”

Tara’s head poked out from behind the boulder.  “Is it dead yet?”

“I hope so,” Duncan said grimly.  “But maybe we should burn the body to be sure.”

Tara bolted to him, and wrapped her arms around him.  “Oh, that was too scary,” she said in a shaky voice.

“It’s all over now, sweetheart,” Duncan said gently.

The bubble around Daphne vanished.  She ran to Duncan and threw her arms around him too.

The mages and familiars in their cocoons were beginning to wake.  Winnie and Rex crawled out in a bad mood.

“What the hell happened?” Rex moaned, trying to shake off the sticky webs.

“Bad magic and demons…the usual,” Duncan replied.

Tara cupped Winnie in her hand, and picked the webbing out of her feathers.  “Poor baby, you’re safe now.”

“Nasty demon!” Winnie shivered.

A groaning Valentin stumbled into the cave, his head bleeding.  Little Max was coiled around his wrist, shaking with fear.  Valentin groaned, “Duncan beware!  The creature, it’s—”

“Dead,” Duncan said, pointing to the carcass on the ground.  “There is your specimen for proof.  Though I highly recommend you burn it.”

“Dead?  Who killed it?” Valentin asked.

“Duncan did!” Daphne gushed.  “He was very heroic!”

“You?” Valentin replied.  “How long was I unconscious?”

“Snooze you lose,” Rex said, flicking his tail.

Duncan shrugged and remarked, “I fare rather well with a sword, after all.”

The ginger cat, Isabella, licked her silky fur vigorously.  “This is disgusting,” Isabella complained.

“Let me help you,” Rex offered eagerly.

Isabella swatted him on the nose, and then returned to cleaning herself.

“Be careful Rex,” Duncan laughed. 

“It’s a courtship thing,” Rex said.

*     *     *     *     *

The mage tower returned to normal.  Valentin left the Academy, now that the investigation was completed.  The village buzzed with rumors and tales about the strange new demon that stalked them.

Duncan and Tara were having breakfast.  Pancakes—Tara’s favorite.  They passed around the maple syrup, sharing breakfast with their familiars.

“How are your classes, Tara?” Duncan asked.

“Harder…now that all the teachers are showing up,” she said, pouring half a pitcher of syrup on her hotcakes.

“You will adjust,” Duncan said.  “I have been taking your advice though, about getting out more.”

Tara smiled, “Great!  Are you seeing Daphne again?”

Duncan nodded, sipping his tea, “Yes, we have a lunch date tomorrow.  You will also be seeing more of me at the Academy.”

“What do you mean?” Tara asked between bites.

“The Council has asked me to take over as Headmaster at the Mage Academy,” Duncan replied, grinning.

Horrified, Tara stared at Duncan.  “You mean...you are going to tell me what to do at school and home too!  Does this mean I’m going to have more homework?”

“Yes,” Duncan nodded.  “The niece of the Headmaster must set an example, you know.”

“I’m doomed,” Tara sighed.

“Eat your pancakes, dear,” Duncan suggested.

Discuss this story in our forums