Witch Ever Way The Wind Blows

Hey everyone!  I know it's been a few weeks since my last post.  Life has a tendency to speed up time on me every now and then.  So, in apology, here's a piece of flash fiction I wrote for fun about hurricanes and witches.  I wrote this inspired by the last hurricane to threaten our little town and it mysteriously turned away...

“This is a Channel Three Severe Weather Alert. Hurricane Joseph is on a north-northwest track with Bienville, Florida directly in its path. By the time it crosses the Gulf of Mexico, it is predicted it will be a Category Four hurricane. It is estimated to land in two days. You are advised to evacuate as soon as possible. If you are staying to weather the hurricane, prepare now and get to a designated storm shelter.”

“Well this just won’t do,” Amy says.

Amy sets her empty wine glass on her mahogany coffee table and unfurls herself from her plush couch. Her silk pajamas whisper as she crosses the wooden floor.

“I just put in that pool last month and the Sisterhood Cotillion is this Saturday. No time for a hurricane.”

Amy’s auburn curls bounce as she walks into her bedroom and picks up her phone. Quickly dialing a number, Amy taps her foot.

“Hello, Jessica? It’s Amy. Have you heard about this storm? Ridiculous, I know. Well don’t worry, I’m taking care of this one. Let the sisters know that we’re still on for this Saturday. Okay, thanks, bye.”

Hanging up her phone, Amy gingerly steps to her walk-in closet. Opening the door and stepping in, she almost closes the door on her tabby cat.

“Sorry, Agatha. Come on in. I’m going to need you for this anyhow. This is so inconvenient…” Huffing her way to the back of the closet, Amy pushes aside her fur coats and designer dresses. Behind them is a small door blending seamlessly into the wall. With a muttered word, the door pops open.

Ducking low as Agatha zooms past, Amy mutters a second word. With a flick of her wrist, candles throughout the room burst to life. Along the walls are tables with odd implements. Curved knifes rest next to dried herbs and flowers. Books line small shelves with jars of shadowed objects acting as bookends. Stubs of chalk lay on the floor around a bare space of unfinished wood floor.

Amy picks herbs with ease. Grabbing flint and stone as well, she places the herbs in bowls of silver. Using the flint and stone, she kindles the herbs until a heady smoke fills the space with perfumed air.

Kneeling down onto the floor, Amy picks up a stub of chalk and begins drawing a circle around herself. As she closes the circle, Agatha zips inside the circle and crouches low next to Amy. A sphere of energy creates a dome around Amy, her hair frizzing as on a muggy day. Still fuming at the inconvenience, Amy begins drawing esoteric symbols inside of the circle. As each symbol is finished, it flares crimson. As the last symbol is complete, the whole dome of energy flares crimson and the air inside is heavy.

“Ba’al, Father of Storms and Giver of Life, I beseech thee.” Amy’s voice echoes in the tiny room. Agatha’s hair stands on end and she begins to hiss. Amy continues her chant as the air grows thicker and the dome around her becomes opaque. Amy stops as she feels an unseen presence in the dome with her.

“Ba’al, it is your loyal servant Amy Pendergast. I beseech thee for thy aid.”

“Alright, alright, enough of the fancy talk.” A dark-skinned man with a bushy beard is suddenly in the circle sitting cross legged across from Amy. Atop his head sit’s the head of a bull, the eyes glassy from death but the horns as sharp and gleaming as if alive. In one hand he holds a club and in the other a lightning bolt. The lightning crackles with intense energy and glows white.

“Ba’al, thank you for answering so quickly! I was worried I’d be here all night.” Amy flashed Ba’al a genuine smile with a bow of her head.

“Now Amy, you’ve been my loyal servant for too many years! Come now, I think we both have an understanding of each other. Besides, you always have the best sacrifices.” The man smiled back and straightened his back. Before his head could touch the dome of energy, it bends at his presence. “What can I help you with?”
“Well, I need you to redirect the hurricane coming this way. I have much to do in the next few days, and this hurricane will ruin everything.”

Ba’al laughs and shakes the room. “Of course. This one is a doozy, too. You know how bored I get on the mountain? So few worshippers these days…” His eyes mist over in memory.

Amy clears her throat gently, shaking Ba’al from his reverie. “I’m sure. If you ever get too bored, I have a spare bedroom upstairs, thanks to you,” Amy says as she winks.

“Ah yes! The wealthy husband. You really got me on that one. I take it you’re enjoying the fruits of your sacrifice?”

“Oh yes, my lord. Everything is as I envisioned it. Thank you again.”

Ba’al waves his hand at her dismissively. “Think nothing of it. Now back to business. This is a pretty big favor you’re asking. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, if I veer it off course, it could lead to drought and disease. I’m sure Garra will love the opportunity to start a few fires, but Ashnan will be pretty miffed you messed with harvest this year.”

“I’m willing to deal with them in turn. I have enough to sacrifice.”

“Don’t stretch yourself too thin now. Tell you what, I’ll talk to Garra and Ashnan, and the whole thing will be washed clean. But in return, I get your cat.”

Amy looked appalled. “Agatha? My familiar? I don’t know…”

“You can always get a new one! It’s not like the old witches where your life is tied to theirs. We’ve gotten a whole less pickier now the worshippers are few and far between. I can promise you will not die.”

Amy thought about it, a crease forming in her forehead. She nods and hands him her cat. “Treat her well.”

Ba’al unhinges his jaw and swallows the cat in one bite. “Delicious.”

Amy forces herself to remain calm and not slap the god for his actions. “Very well, what else do you desire?”

“Let’s see. Before the end of the month, place ten lightning rods throughout town. Preferably buildings, but I won’t get too picky. Your human laws are weird, and I don’t want to incarcerate my servants.”

Amy knew of a rival witch who could use a good lightning strike. She smiled and nodded.

“Oh! And when the next storm rolls around, leave some of those delicious cookies you left out last time. Chocolate peanut butter? Truly divine!”

Amy nodded and smiled. “So we have a deal?”

Ba’al nods and extends his hand. Amy shakes his. A bright flash envelopes both. When Amy’s vision clears, the dome of power is broken and the candles are all blown out. Muttering and snapping her fingers once more, she finds her way out and snaps the candles out once again.

“Honey, is everything alright? I heard a rumble just a minute ago.” A man stands in a suit and tie in the doorway, loosening his tie and kicking off his shoes.

“Everything’s fine, Steve. Just can’t find Agatha anywhere. I think she’s run off.”

“I’m sorry honey, I know you loved that cat.” Steve hugs Amy. “We’ll get you a new one this week, yeah?”

“That’d be lovely.”

“I heard on the radio on the way home that Hurricane Joseph is heading towards Texas now. Something to do with air currents and all that,” Steve says as he gets dressed in his pajamas.

Amy combs her hair in an effort to hide her smile. “Oh really? That’s wonderful news!”

“Now we don’t have to worry about evacuating. And I know you were heart broken about the Cotillion getting cancelled. Now you and your sisters can have it as scheduled.”

Steve and Amy get into the bed and turn out the lights as thunder rolls over their house.