The House Witch (The House Witch, #1)

by Delemhach

“Make it quick then. What kind of freak brings a broom when traveling?” The driver hiked up his stained tan trousers and leaned against his aging donkey impatiently.

“Goodbye, Kip. May we never have to speak again.” “You weird lookin’ bastard, I hope you shit bricks!” came Kip’s angry response at the fellow’s back. Fin’s response was the middle finger of the hand carrying three bags, raised straight in the air.

“There has to be a mistake, you couldn’t possibly be—” Ruby started, clearly flustered that the cook for the King of Daxaria could be so young and … pretty.

“Please explain, Ruby,” he asked quietly after a moment, clearly not taking too much heed of her agitation. While effective in managing the staff, the woman often had very rigid ideas on how things were to be done. It would not be the first time she butted heads with someone …

It was somehow … deeply satisfying. It was as though there were parts of his stomach that had never really been sated before that moment.

“Do you not care for any company?” “I like being alone.”

“You are the strangest man I have ever met.” “I’d rather be the strangest than the worst.” “You might be that too.”

“I chose the people with the cleanest fingernails, and who appeared to bathe regularly. I do not know who they are, or what their duties have been before. If you continue to make demands that make no sense, then throw a fit when I compromise, I will walk out of the castle before lunch. I do not tell you how to run the staff unless it affects my work. I know how to run my kitchen, just like you know your own job.”

“When someone doesn’t smile with their eyes, it’s because they want something, and or are hiding something.”

“Peppermint and chamomile. Same ingredients used in a relaxing tea one commonly consumes before bed. Once the lavender comes in this year it will round out the flavor—good Gods, did you think I meant I was poisoning people?!” Fin demanded, looking disturbed and exasperated.

The stranger threw the knife at Fin’s face during their fall, which he blocked with the frying pan.

“So. I must have made the right decision coming here if you, my familiar, have appeared.” The kitten mewed again, as though in agreement.

Did you know that no one has seen a dragon in two hundred years?!” Eric slapped his palms on the table around his book, his hazel eyes the size of saucers. “One hundred and fifty years, actually. They say the golden dragon still hides in the mountains, but no one knows if they are in the mountains here in Daxaria along the western border, or if he perhaps rests in the northern mountains of Troivack.”

“Can we name him Kraken? He could be the sea monster, but for mice.” Fin lifted the kitten and looked into the tiny green eyes. “What do you say, is your name Kraken?” The kitten mewed again, suddenly seeming more animated, as though excited for such a fearsome and respectable name.

He shall be known as Kraken the Kitchen Cat. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Another excellent reason for me to avoid people,” he said, trying not to focus on the faint smell of spices coming from her. Didn’t most women smell like flowers? Why did she smell like a spiced oil, or … She laughed.

“Oh, and I meant I wouldn’t tell Ruby about your secret pet. Good evening, Finlay Ashowan.”

“Lee, I heard somewhere recently that there have been witches with mutated abilities … what does this mean?” “It means that their powers are branching out from their elements, though are still rooted in them. For example, one well-known mutation was a woman who could speak to and be understood by animals. It is rooted in air as a means of moving and understanding sound.”

“Witches came to be by the creation of the Goddess, which is why even male witches are “witches,” instead of warlocks. Their powers come from the feminine half of the Gods. They believe the mages (or “wizards,” as some call us), to be tyrants who have gone against the natural order and laws of life. It has been an ancient feud that I am ashamed to admit I am a part of.”

“A spy would be pestering people for information. This witch alienates nearly everyone and wants to be left alone. While I agree we should be wary of him, I believe he is a witch that wants to peacefully exist while making a living. Which is the truth of most of their kind.”

“You didn’t even think about it!” “I don’t need to think about it. A knight is a more honorable position. They don’t defy the laws of nature, and it will help you become a better king.”

“He still isn’t a real cat though!” “Exactly. Mages are the dogs.” “Who are the cats?” “Witches.”

“They need to be stripped of their power because they abused it, and their dignity needs to be challenged because they need to repent for the one they infringed upon. If you suspend their titles, it negates the process of a full demotion,” Fin suggested firmly, somehow remaining outwardly calm.

“Finlay Ashowan, I am aware that you are a witch, and I have questions.”

“What is your element?” the king questioned shortly. “Erm. I suppose earth. However, I am what is called a ‘mutant’ or ‘deficient’ witch.”

“I am called a house witch.” The king blanched. “I beg your pardon?” “A house witch. Or hearth witch if you prefer. My powers are centered around the home. Food, protection, so on and so forth: I can do a lot of things to make life comfier, and homier.”

“If I simply had pure elemental magic, yes, they would. However, I am the only one of my kind on official records. There was a witch more than a century ago who, some records indicate, had the same abilities, but it was before the current Coven’s time.”

Leave it to the mage to throw a tantrum.

“You turned a seven-year-old against a mage?!” The look of stunned horror and amazement on Annika’s face made Fin awkwardly rub the back of his neck and cast his eyes to the floor.

“That child adores you. I do not know why, but you two have a weird friendship. He hasn’t asked any other serving staff to call him by his first name—other than Hannah, I suppose, but that is different. This means you have a responsibility to be a good influence on him,” she continued with a small smile and a raised eyebrow.

“I nearly forgot. Last night, I could not put my finger on it, but you reminded me greatly of a man in the Troivackian court. He was originally from Daxaria, and I wondered if there was any relation. His name is Aidan Helmer. Bright red hair, though turning quite silver, black eyes, about your height?” Fin felt as though he were about to be sick but managed to turn his chin and shake his head loosely. “I am afraid not, my lord.” “Pity.”

“Oh, he is our new chief of military. A fire witch, if you can believe that! First time a witch has ever been allowed a spot in the Troivackian court, but the magnitude of his abilities is too impressive to go unharnessed.”

Well, I’ve learned two valuable things that evening. The first: my abilities can extend the more rooms I visit connected to my “home.” The second: my father, who I haven’t seen since I was eight years old, is leading a war to Daxaria’s doorstep.

“I never thought I would get to taste your food again, then lo and behold, I sit down to the best meal of my life, thinking I finally found someone who could best you in the culinary arts.” Fin laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone better than me someday.”

“You know, if you ever wanted a job in Zinfera, you would only need to ask.” Fin laughed. “Apparently I need to ask for a raise—you’re the second offer tonight!”

“I always said you were far more capable than anyone knew … I will be very interested to see what happens in your future.”

It was a meager dinner that night, as had become the norm since his father had banned his mother from offering her magical help to anyone that wasn’t a witch.

Aidan Helmer was one of the witches that called themselves “purists.” They believed that witches were meant to rule the continent as the middle ground between nature and people. They did not look favorably upon mutant witches, believing them to be damaged by growing divided from the original nature of their powers.

“I haven’t failed anything! M-My magic could be b-b-better than yours!” Fin felt like vomiting the moment the words had finished coming out of his mouth. The look on his father’s face terrified him to his core, and he had the horrible premonition that he was about to die. His father snatched his arm, and half-pulled, half-dragged him outside, where rain had once again began pounding the soaked ground.

A home is always supposed to be safe. It isn’t supposed to be like this …

After that day, Fin never again felt unsafe in his own home.

“It’s rare for me to dream of a memory … hopefully it means nothing.”

“Do you think I enjoy your company?” she asked after yet another turn in the maze. “You spend a lot of time annoying me for someone who doesn’t.” “You just are … different. I’m curious about you … we don’t usually get new staff members here. Everyone is born and dies here, so you and the handful of people who arrived around the time you did are something of a novelty.”

“You look as lonely and out of place as I feel.”

Fin needed distance from the strange draw he was feeling toward Annika. Whatever this is, it’s strong, surprising, and a pain in the ass.

You only need to look up to see the best proof of endless possibilities.

“Les Fuks, you will be proud of your name,” the old man offhandedly ordered while he too neared Fin, glaring up at him. Fin glanced at the son over his shoulder. “You should care less about what I think.”

“Alright there, Big Red, tell me, do you find my name humorous?” Lord Fuks demanded. Fin’s face paled. It was torture. He was being punished for every misdeed he ever committed. Please don’t say it, please don’t say it, please—he begged internally over and over. “Dick Fuks?”

“I am glad to hear you think so! My father Gaylord certainly knew it to be true!” “Your father was … Lord Gaylord Fuks?” Fin deadpanned the question the best he could, while the chief of military stood inches too short, but close enough that he could smell the man’s breath. “Yes, he was a great man. His nickname—”

“You think we don’t know how ridiculous our names are?!”