What A Witch Claims

Chapter 1

Next day, Ferdie's home

When you least expect it… The deep sonorous voice sounded inside Ferdie's head, then— Ding. Ding. Ding. The sound of the oven timer startled him awake.

"Freaking frog's toes. I fell asleep … again."

Ferdie leapt from his chair where he'd dozed off for what seemed like the hundredth time that day and rushed to the oven to pull out two loaves of his special recipe herb bread. After which, he punched off the timer.

"At least I didn't burn the bread this time." His mouth watered as the scents of oregano, basil, and garlic filled the air. His first two batches of bread had ended up looking like charcoal bricks. Not even the raccoons who raided his compost heap would take a second look at them.

After putting the bread on the window ledge to cool, he checked on the chicken breasts and pork chops he had marinating for the upcoming barbecue that he was hosting. The get-together was to celebrate the defeat of the evil Iago le Fay who’d recently wreaked havoc in the valley while attempting to kidnap Ferdie's friend and Bran's mate, Raisa Chekhov.

Once his contributions to the gathering were finally in-hand, he sat down. Why was he falling asleep so often and so easily? Either he was getting old and senile, or yesterday's consultation with Merlin's Foreskin was successful and he just wasn't getting the message.

After dinner with Roger, he had gone home hoping his mate might be revealed in his dreams. During the night, he'd heard the voice from the consultation: When you least expect it, something witchy this way will come. There were no images. No visions. Nothing but a voice being cryptic and misquoting Ray Bradbury's famous novel's title.

All day, he'd been falling asleep and then awakened by the voice repeating the same eleven words. He was exhausted. His burgeoning optimism after yesterday's interaction with the relic had taken a nose-dive into hell.

"Witchy." He snorted. If this was a prediction of him mating with a witch, it was a bad joke. There were no witches in all of Assjacket Valley who'd look at him twice, let along once. "What a load of bat dung. No witch will come for me."

"Well, short stuff—" This voice was that of Fate. Sure enough she popped into his snug, but comfy home under the troll bridge in a cloud of green camo-colored smoke.

"If you'd stayed asleep just a bit longer—"

"My bread would've burned," he retorted.

"Yeah, true. Smells good. I'm looking forward to the shindig later." She paused and gave him a big wink. "As I was saying, if you'd managed to stay asleep a little longer, this time, the rest of the saying would've been 'Something witchy this way comes .'"

"Herne's hairy toes," shouted Ferdie. "What the heck? It's the same dang sentence."

Fate looked to the ceiling and muttered, "Why are they always so dense?" She stomped over to where he sat and brought her face close to his. "The tense has changed, short stuff. Get me? Present tense means now—your future is here."

"Huh?" He wrinkled his brow. "She's coming? Now? When? Like today? Later tonight? When?"

"Soon, even as soon as—" She began when a clap of thunder and purple smoke and sparks fell over Fate's head from the ceiling.

A disembodied voice, which sounded very much like Baba Yaga's, intoned, "Loose lips sink predictions, Freaky Fate. He'll have to realize it when it happens. All. On. His. Lonesome."

"Shut your trap, Baba Woo-Woo. I'm not tipping the Wheel in his favor, just enlightening him about something that's already written," snapped Fate, her hands on her camo-pant laden hips as she shouted at the ceiling. "This is sort of my job, and I have been doing it forever, you old hag."

Ferdie sat up. "I'm getting me a witchy mate? Really?"

"Yep, really." Fate shifted her gaze and held up her hand for a high-five. "Congratulations!"

Happiness unlike any he'd felt in his long life filled Ferdie's whole being as he slapped Fate's hand with his own.

"When?" he reiterated.

Fate had already begun to fade away, the only part of her still visible was her smile. "Soon." Then she was gone.

"Aargh." Ferdie sensed Baba Yaga was still nearby. "Baba Yaga, where are you?"

"Up here," she replied.

She must be on top of the bridge which formed his home's roof. He hurried outside and climbed the path to find the wily old witch, sitting on the bridge and dangling her bare legs over the edge.

"Hey there, FF." She gave him a welcoming smile.

Baba Yaga was a gorgeous witch. Although she looked to be in her early thirties, she was, in reality, so old that her powerful magic made his bones ache. And he had very solid troll bones. Taking a break from her normal '80s disco glam look, today, she was dressed in Daisy Duke shorts and a tank top; an outfit which hugged her very curvaceous body. Her feet were as bare as her legs, and her toe nails were painted a bright glittery blue.

"Looking good, Baba Yaga." He sat next to her and asked the question still the uppermost in his mind. "So, when?" Then he added, "Do I already know her?"

The witch just smiled. "Fate and I can't snitch. But I will say your mate lives here … now."

Which he interpreted to mean she hadn't lived here all that long. He began to catalogue all the newer witches to the area. And couldn't think of a single one who'd have him. The saying "familiarity breeds contempt" was a truism in his case since he'd probably ticked most of the locals, including all the witches off, now and then.

Of course, that was before Sheila Fitzgerald had arrived and mated with Bucky, a beaver Shifter. The sweet witch had befriended him, and he found that he could be a rather sociable fellow. When their friendship and his previous one with Raisa had come to light, the locals looked at him differently. While Ferdie could still get surly and foul-mouthed from time-to-time, on the whole, he was a much easier troll to get along with.

Silly boy. You've always been so insecure about your creator magic compared to other true magic users that you've hidden behind your troll genetics. You have power of your own that any witch would respect. So, stop belittling yourself.

"Mom?" He hadn't heard her voice in his mind in over two hundred and fifty years. As a demi-goddess, she now resided in the Otherworld. Contacting the outside world took a lot of energy, so the last time she'd spoken with him, she told him she'd save her energy for the time when her only child would meet his mate and continue the line.

Ferdie looked at the witch next to him. "It's really going to happen, isn't it?"

Baba Yaga nodded and gave him a sweet, almost maternal smile. Sweet and maternal were not things he'd ever connected to the powerful witch. "I liked your mother a lot. And your father wasn't so bad for a grumpy old troll." She chuckled. "His best quality was that he loved your mother more than anything else in the world, even his treasures. When she died at the hands of a demon-god and left the world, your father avenged her death and then chose to follow her. Your father asked me to watch over you and the whole Fucking clan."

She bumped her shoulder against his arm. "And I have. You and your cousin Fucking Derrick live here because of that promise." She heaved a sigh. "Now that your mate has finally arrived, I need to get FD settled and my promise will be fulfilled." She muttered under her breath, "And that might take an effing millennium."

Ferdie snickered. There was the sarcastic Baba Yaga everyone knew. The sentimental Baba Yaga had been a bit unsettling. But he almost felt sorry for her since getting Derrick settled would be a chore.

"You never really answered my question," he said.

"How astute of you, Ferdie." Baba Yaga laughed and slapped him on the back of the head. "Soon. And you'll know her when you see her. So, when's the party starting? I'm hungry."

"Soon." If she and Fate could be cryptic, so could he.

"Smart-ass." Baba Yaga winked at him.

Ferdie stood up. Even now he could hear some of the locals coming through the woods, down the mountain paths into the valley, and along the riverside. "I need to add more charcoal to the barbecue grill and get the meat started."

Baba Yaga dropped into the water with no splash at all. A cool trick that not many could pull off. She looked around. "Hmm, not everything has been cleaned up along here after the battle. I'll just start tidying your riverbank and shallows a bit."

"Thanks." Ferdie took the path that led from the bridge down to where he had set up the grill on the clearing in front of his home's entrance. His home was built into the bridge's stone supports on one side of the river's tributary.

"Have you ever thought about having a beach here?" She waved a hand over the riverbank from his bridge, along a curve that ended maybe three hundred yards to where the tributary curved to rejoin the main river. "We could have beach parties with fruity alcoholic beverages and little umbrellas and some cabana boys."

"Um, not really." Ferdie wasn't sure where that idea had come from. He wasn't opposed to beaches and he really liked fruity alcoholic beverages, with or without little umbrellas. But cabana boys? He shuddered. That was a definite no.

"Never mind," she said. "It's not important. Um, you had a watercress bed among some lilies, I believe?" She pointed to a small area at the edge of his home where it was built out over the calm tributary. The area was now buried under a mishmash of detritus that the raging flood waters had dumped during the storm Iago had created.

"Yes, Sheila had originally created it for me." The sweet witch had understood trolls liked watercress.

"Then you shall have them again." Baba Yaga muttered some words and in cloud of purple, green, and aqua smoke and a flash of lightning, the area below the bridge became a lush area of watercress and water lilies as the tributary flowed in a gentle rhythm over and around rocks. Flashing silver lights were schools of fish, and the croaking of frogs filled the air. "How's that?"

"Wonderful." Ferdie gave Baba Yaga a bow. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome. But do give the beach idea some thought."

"Hel-l-o-o, down there." Baba Yaga's main squeeze Fabio shouted from the top of the bridge. The tall, handsome, auburn-haired warlock with cat-green eyes waved and headed down the path. Always a clothes horse, the powerful warlock was dressed head-to-toe in Ralph Lauren's new summer line. Ferdie knew this because he'd seen the ads for the line on Facebook.

Baba Yaga's face brightened and strode over to meet her significant other who was also the father of Zelda, the Baba Yaga in training. "Hey, toots. Let's go see what else we can create today. I need to work up an appetite. Ferdie is grilling us meat, and I can smell his fabulous herb bread from here."

"Don't forget. Jeeves and Sassy are bringing charcuterie trays." Fabio hugged his curvaceous mate to his side. "I love me some charcuterie."

The two walked off to join some witches and a flutter of fairies debating how to shore up an overlook that had been undercut during the high water caused by Iago's storms.

"Hey, Ferdie!" A cheerful chorus of feminine voices chimed.

Ferdie turned to greet Clio, Raisa, and Sheila, the witch owners of Finds, Designs, and Blooms . After Raisa and Sheila had decided Ferdie would be their friend, Clio, who was Sheila's cousin and the mate of the pooka Paul McCarthy, had befriended him also. The locals considered the three witches and their respective mates responsible for Ferdie becoming less foul-mouthed and more sociable. He was so lucky to have made such good friends.

As the three gals approached, he noted they carried dishes for the get-together. The smells were heavenly.

"Where do we put these?" Raisa held up her covered casserole.

"Damn me, I forgot tables," he said.

"No worries," a voice behind him called out. "Now you have tables and seating."

On a level area of the grassy ledge overlooking this part of the river's tributary, picnic tables with brightly colored cloths and wooden benches materialized out of thin air.

He turned and spotted Fabio's daughter who had the same auburn hair, hers being curly, and green eyes. Like her father, she liked nice clothes and was dressed in what Ferdie could only classify as barbecue chic—navy trousers, a navy and white pullover sweater, and white Chuck Taylor's with a blue-flower design.

"Thanks, Zelda," Ferdie said. "Your dad and Baba Yaga went upstream with the fairies. I think I heard something about tree roots being washed away."

"Gotcha. I'll go see if I can help with that." Zelda waved at the other three witches. "See you all later."

Sheila placed her dish on one of the tables Zelda had conjured and looked at the others. "Trees being undercut is in my area of magic. I'll go help, too. When Bucky arrives, point him in the right direction, would ya? His beaver dam building skills would also be a boon."

"Will do. We'll stay and help Ferdie get things set up," Clio said.

Sheila ran to catch up with Zelda.

Raisa looked at Ferdie. "Um, my friend, there's something about you that is different. Your aura is not just happier than I have ever seen it, but almost—"

"Ecstatic," quipped Clio. "What's up?"

"Merlin's Foreskin has predicted, and Fate and Baba Yaga have confirmed, that my mate is coming. She'll be a witch, and she'll be here soon." He smiled, then freaked out. "They said I'd know when I see her. How in Herne's gnarly hooves, will I know? And will she know also? Or will she see a short, ugly troll and run the other way? Bleeding toad warts, I'm happy and scared at the same time. It's a disconcerting feeling."

"Been there. Felt that," Raisa said. "It was that way when I met Bran."

The very same Bran who'd been laughed at by Merlin's Foreskin, probably because Bran already had completed two of the three bonds with Raisa. Their reconciliation in the valley had been complicated by the arrival of the dark sorcerer Iago le Fay and a huge battle to protect Raisa and the valley had ensued.

Raisa gave Ferdie a hug and a kiss on his cheek. "Your mind will recognize her. Your soul will touch hers. And you will need to make her yours. And she'll love you in return—or answer to all of us."

Ferdie snorted. "Oh, that'll work. Scare her into accepting me."

"If that's what we have to do, dear friend," said Clio. "She won't know what hit her." Then she added, "But it won't come to that, Ferdie. The Goddess doesn't make mistakes. Your fated mate will recognize you. Her soul will touch and bind with yours, And she will want to claim you as much you want to claim her—but only when she's ready."

"I suggest you complete the trinity, sooner rather than later, if you can," Raisa said. "Being two-thirds of the way mated was uncomfortable."

Ferdie still felt insecure about the whole recognizing his mate thing. He could only trust that Fate, Baba Yaga, and the relic had been correct—and that his mate would want him in return.

Stop worrying so much. His mother's voice was warm and loving inside his mind. She had always been there to boost his morale and soothe his hurts as he'd grown up. So much like your papa. Just know, I loved that grumpy old troll from the day I met him, and he loved me. Trust in the bond and let the Goddess magic work as it will.

****

Morticia MacFebal’s cliffside dwelling

Morticia sat on the wrap-around deck of what she liked to call her aerie overlooking the Assjacket river valley. It was a beautiful spring day, and she had no place she had to be and nothing she had to do.

“Ahem. Nothing to do?” Her familiar Fee, a thickly furred black cat with unusual violet-colored eyes, lay in a patch of sun at the edge of the deck.

Ticia glared at the cat. “Okay, be a slavedriver. It’ll only take me thirty minutes to demonstrate the proper way to debone a fish for my social media followers.”

Over the last few months as the Anonymous Chef, a social media influencer on YouTube, TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, and her own eponymous website, she'd accumulated five hundred thousand devoted followers. It seemed a lot of humans and non-humans wished to learn basic cooking techniques and discover recipes in which to use those techniques.

This week was seafood week. Today's lesson was cleaning fish in preparation for various methods of cooking. She'd also record some simple recipes and cooking methods to run tomorrow. Later in the week, she'd work with shellfish. All the techniques and printable recipes would then be posted on her website.

“I know that, stupid.” Fee licked her paw. “But I get to eat the messed-up fish, and I am hungry. Now.”

"I do not mess up fish. Somehow, each perfectly fileted fish lands on the floor." Ticia eyed her cat who wore a very feline smirk. “Ever since I caught the fish for today’s demo, you’ve been sticking close to home rather than chasing chipmunks and birds.”

“Why should I work for my food when you’re gonna have extra fish lying around?”

“Valid point.” Ticia pushed up from her deck chair. “Might as well do the video now since you’re hungry.”

The cat lifted her head, ears perking forward. "Drats."

"What?"

Her familiar glared at something in the distance. “Ixnay on the deboning video. Company’s coming.” Fee sniffed the air. “He smells like one of your kind.” Her kind being a witch. The cat blinked slowly. “Have you been holding out on me? Is this a suitor?”

Ticia approached the railing and cursed softly. “Bloody hell. It's Bran. He must've figured out who I am.”

“As in the world-famous Top Chef who mysteriously disappeared from her Michelin-rated Parisian bistro or as in a witch of the MacFebal clan with various gods and demi-gods littered on the family tree?”

“The latter.” Ticia headed for her front door. "The Maddocson's family tree is littered with MacFebals." A prolific lot the MacFebal clan, all the way back to the days of Bran the Blessed. The ancient Bran had been the child of the Goddess Iweridd.

This Bran was a tall, dark, and handsome warlock with striking blue eyes. He was powerful with an affinity to ravens and the weather.

"Ah." Fee sniffed. “So, we're having a Celtic pantheon family reunion?”

“No. I'm betting he's merely curious.” Ticia stooped and picked up Fee who’d followed her to the door. Her familiar draped herself around Ticia's neck and purred. “I helped save his mate Raisa by calling the crows.”

“Ah. That was a very good distraction." Fee sniffed. "That Iago dude was nasty.”

An understatement if Ticia had ever heard one. It had taken all the local witches, including her, to save the valley’s residences from being destroyed by Iago’s magical storm.

Opening the front door, Ticia assumed a polite mask in case Bran was merely here to say thank you for helping Raisa. “May I help you?”

“Good morning, cuz.” Bran gave her a wide smile. “I’ve been deputized by my mate and the other valley residents to invite you to the barbeque to celebrate the defeat of Le Fay.”

“I was already invited by Kerr Montgomery and his mate Ammy. I declined.” She made to close the door but couldn’t. Bran’s large boot-clad foot was blocking it. Aggravated, she said, “Move it—” She gave him a twisted smile. "Or lose it.”

“Well, you could try, cuz. But in a battle of strength, I'd win.” He gave her a good-humored wink. “And in a battle of offensive magic, well, I’d win that, too.”

Unfortunately, he was correct. His power glowed all around him. And calling the crows wouldn't work since his affinity to ravens also transferred to crows.

“Why aren't you coming?" he asked. "You saved the day with your direction of the murder of crows."

“Maybe I’m anti-social?” she said. Before the horrible experience which had driven her from her life in Paris, she'd liked socializing. When she'd arrived in the valley a little over three months ago, all she'd wanted to do was heal and work on her new career goals.

“You’re asking me?” He chuckled and shook his head. “You remind me of my maternal Aunt Edwina MacFebal. She never gave straight answers, either.”

Ticia snorted. She'd met Edwina once at a MacFebal clan games weekend. The powerful old witch was a tart, never-married, man-hating spinster. Ticia had adored her and tagged after the older woman all over the field. After a lot of grousing, Edwina had taken a liking to Ticia, too.

“Bran, why are you really here?” Ticia asked. “Your mate already sent me flowers and a lifetime of free decorating advice, if I needed any.” And she didn't.

“Raisa didn't actually send me. Baba Yaga did.” He shrugged. “Don't ask me why, because she didn’t give me a concrete reason.”

“Sure. What non-concrete reason did she give?” Ticia had a fairly good idea Baba Yaga would have a purpose for requesting Ticia's presence, but had she shared it?

Bran frowned. “She didn’t provide one of those, either. However, my gut says if you don’t come to the barbecue under your own power, you’ll end up there anyway.”

“I see.” She pulled Fee off her neck and looked her in the eyes. "Looks like deboning fish will have to wait. We’re going to a barbecue.”

“Yay." Fee wiggled to be put down.

Setting her familiar on the floor, Ticia looked up at Bran. “Do I need to bring anything besides myself and my familiar?”

“The troll Ferdie is grilling chicken and pork. He baked his special bread. That alone is worth attending. Everyone else is bringing a dish. But if you don’t cook, don’t worry. There'll be lots of food.”

Fee snickered and Ticia smiled. “Oh, I can cook. Where is this party? What time do I need to be there.”

“Around five this evening at the Troll Bridge where Ferdie lives. Do you know how to get there?” Bran asked.

“Yes.”

Ticia had checked out the valley in depth before accepting Baba Yaga’s invitation to live there after leaving Paris and her former life. She'd liked what she'd seen and how the valley felt. There was power here, white magic that was used to protect the people who lived there. So, she'd moved in and had never regretted it for a single second. Her time here had gone a long way in healing both her damaged mind and body. It was time to venture out and get to know her neighbors. A barbecue would be the perfect way to begin that journey.

"Fee and I will see you there, then." She smiled.