The Witch War of Fiddlehead Creek by C.L. Hernandez

Author:C.L. Hernandez [Hernandez, C. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Permuted Press
Published: 2015-08-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Arlo Cobalt scowled at the black water in the scrying bowl. It showed him how he’d failed once more, and rage crept into his chest by slow degrees. That damn Tibbs girl! Damn her and all her damned friends! His beautiful flock of assassin birds had been annihilated, but how? How could they have done this? The spell had worked perfectly, hadn’t it?

Ping! No spell is foolproof, Mr. Cobalt. Mr. Cobalt, no spell is foolproof, please.

“You shut the hell up! My spells are foolproof! They are!” Cobalt swiped his arm across the bedside table, splattering a mixture of ink and water across the blankets. The scrying bowl smashed on the floor. How dare his followers disrespect him like that! “Damn you! I’ll kill all of you!”

His faithful flock remained silent. They hovered next to the ceiling, watching him.

His racket brought the servants on the run. At least they were respectful. He glowered at them as they filed into his room. One of them looked far too young to be an efficient servant. Her arms were full of—Cobalt squinted—infant supplies? Most likely for that brat in the other bedroom who screamed all night. And where exactly had that kid come from, anyway? He did not remember giving his servants permission to bring their illegitimate offspring into his home. “Get out of here!” he yelled at the young servant. “Leave my home immediately and take your mewling brat with you!”

The young woman jumped at the sound of his voice, dropping half the supplies she was carrying. “Mr. Scott, there’s no need to—”

“My name is not Scott! I am Cobalt! Arlo goddamn Cobalt! Can’t you see that?”

The youngster flinched and looked to the older servant for help.

“It’s okay, Darla,” the older one said. “Mr. Scott’s just having a bad spell. It happens. I can handle this. You can go. They need that stuff in pediatrics.”

Darla nodded and stooped to pick up her fallen infant supplies. She almost dropped them again in her haste to get out the door.

The older servant sighed, shaking her head at the mess on the floor. She knelt and began picking up the broken pieces of the bowl. “I’m not even going to ask what the black stuff is,” she said. “Really, Mr. Scott, you’re going to hurt yourself one of these days. We’ll have to take everything away from you. Is that what you want?”

Cobalt reclined against the pillows and pretended to be asleep.

“I’ll have to call housekeeping, I suppose.” She straightened and took the broken pottery to the wastebasket in the corner. “And I know you’re awake. Don’t try to get out of that bed. I’m not above restraining you, you know.”

You couldn’t do that if you tried. Cobalt frowned. Had he said that out loud? And who was he talking to now?

The intercom pinged. Nancy Rivas to Pediatrics. Nancy Rivas to Pediatrics, please.

When he opened his eyes again, he was alone. The room was quiet and clean. Had he been sleeping? He lifted his head from the pillow and cast a scowl all around his bedroom.

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