Her Rightful Place

8: The Witch

"Your Majesty, what have you done?" Xavier demands, feigning horror as he runs to the front of the house, which is now well on its way to becoming a raging inferno. The Queen stands with her hands on her hips, surveying her work with a grim satisfaction and chuckling malevolently. Her soldiers look on uneasily, almost as uncomfortable as Xavier with the idea of burning Mireille alive.

"What does it look like?" Queen Bêtel snaps crossly, her eyes fixed on the destruction wrought by her own hands. The smoke billows higher in a thick black column. Villagers are gathering, watching the scene with horror, too terrified of the Queen to attempt to rescue their beloved seamstress. Suddenly a piercing scream emanates from within the house. Queen Bêtel cackles with glee and rubs her hands together while the villagers gasp collectively in horror. But the grin quickly flees the Queen's face as the door to the house suddenly crashes open and all the house's furnishings--everything Mireille left behind--stagger out of the flaming cottage, many singed, smoking, or burning themselves. Like zombies they move jerkily towards the Queen's soldiers, who fearfully brandish their weapons at the enchanted furnishings.

As if this were not bizarre enough, a second, louder, more terrifying shriek pierces the air. Seconds later the house begins to lurch and shudder and shake. Then it rises off the ground shakily on immense yellow chicken's legs, complete with clawed feet that proceed to stomp the ground as the house skitters in haphazard circles, exactly like a chicken with its head cut off. This chicken, however, seems bent on revenge against its destroyers, as it joins the flock of household items in their assault on the Queen and her entourage. Queen Bêtel, all merriment gone, turns to seek shelter in her carriage, only for it to be crushed by a giant chicken foot while pieces of cutlery saw at her ridiculous gown.

"Guards! Remove these monstrosities from my presence, I command you!" the troubled tyrant thunders while trying fruitlessly to escape from the household objects that seek to corner her. Even Xavier half-heartedly attempts to help, although he and Jerôme, who has only just arrived, are the only ones that the bewitched furnishings have not targeted.

"I told you it was a bad idea to burn the place, Your Majesty," Xavier sighs as he roughly pulls the Queen out of the melee. She frowns at him, thinking to scold him for handling her so ungently, then decides against it as another otherworldly howl escapes the burning dwelling-creature overhead.

"RUN!" Jerôme advises, grabbing Xavier's hand as he flees. Xavier pulls his mother along with them and the soldiers quickly follow suit as the house again begins to quake. The flames are clearly taking a much greater toll on the ancient cottage at this point; practically the entire building is engulfed in flames.

Then from the cellar, which heretofore seemed normal, erupts a geyser of water, followed by a torrent of bones and witches' paraphernalia, including cauldrons and jars of strange items like eyeballs, blood, teeth, and various unusual plants. All hit the house without fail, and it shudders even more violently under this onslaught.

"Saints preserve us!" one village woman screams, huddling on the ground.

"Heaven help us!" another cries, clutching her baby to her chest as she stares transfixed at the spectacle before her. The flames have largely dissipated from the house now, and everyone gapes openly in horror as purple steam billows from it. The enchanted dwelling bucks and rattles and shakes violently for several seconds before abruptly disappearing with a loud POP and a puff of angry violet smoke. Everyone is silent, staring at the place where it had been, half-expecting it to reappear and resume terrorizing the Queen and her minions. A few last bizarre objects spout out of the cellar, followed by an unholy stench, but that seems to be the end of the madness. Xavier sighs in relief.

"Do you suppose the girl did all that?" Queen Bêtel wonders, for once remarkably lacking in pomposity and rudeness.

"Not a chance. She was no witch. But she is gone for good, now, and this village will not thank you for it," Jerôme answers astutely. "The house simply had a lot of spillover magic left in it from the witch who lived there before, and that is all. Mayhap that is why the seamstress's work was so lovely, but now all her work has vanished with her and the house. Mayhap that is why she did not wish to leave, Your Majesty."

"A lot of rubbish, all that. A more foolish Duke I could not find in all the world. Let us be on our way, then. We have wasted enough of today, and I had some good torture planned, too."

"But the carriage...." Xavier remarks, gesturing to the rubble that had once been the Queen's favorite conveyance. Her horses have long since run off, but a couple enterprising villagers have caught them and sneaked them away to the market. The Queen sighs angrily and turns towards her son.

"I suppose you will have to fix that, will you not? After all, this whole mess is your fault," she replies icily. Either she has run out of anger for the day (highly unlikely, as she never seems to be lacking in rage), or the semi-successful burning of the cottage has pleased her enough to mollify her temper.

"As you please, my liege," Xavier replies, praying that Mireille is safe and on her way to Vyrunia.