Witchmas

Say My Name

There are Twelve Marshal's on seven continents. Even Antarctica gets one, though the population hovers roughly around one hundred. She's based out of Peru and covers a portion of South America to help out the Sao Paulo Marshal. They all have at least a decade of battle experience, since Marshal's are culled from Battle Mages, and all haven't been on the job as long as I have.

I wondered if they were ever scared when they approached the bad guys.

I swallowed down a lump in my throat and sauntered back to the table where Tyrone looked like he wished he had a gun. And a bazooka. And a tank.

I sauntered to cover the shiver in my legs and wished I had a bazooka and tank too.

"If we keep meeting like this people are going to make some assumptions about us," I said behind them.

The three witches turned around. Didn't move their feet, didn't break the power triangle, just shifted their focus back to me and off Tyrone.

It put the shortest one closer to me, and the tall one at the back of the triangle. Back point of the triangle, if I was in the middle of the base.

Witches and their power moves.

The middle of the base left me exposed to two of them at an almost equal distance, and the third had a straight shot down the middle.

See why I was sauntering?

"This business is almost concluded," said the tall one.

"What's your name?"

She quirked up one eyebrow.

"Why do you need my name?"

"In the execution of my duties I'm allowed to ask the questions."

She noted the emphasis on execution and lowered her head just a little.

"Hilda," she said. "These are my companions, Cassidy and Carla."

The two of them rubbed their bellies at the same time.

Weird.

Their bellies which looked bigger in the five minutes they had been in the pub.

Weirder.

"Ma'me," I nodded. If I had a hat I would have tipped it.

"I'm trying very hard to have a nice quiet evening with a new found friend," I said. "But my concern for the welfare of this young man against your unique abilities is occupying my mind. A lot."

"He is completely safe," said Hilda. "If he returns that which does not belong to him."

"So the grimoire is yours?"

She flinched a little. They didn't know I had seen it.

"It belongs to our Coven."

"Are you planning to take this book back to your other ten or doing a little damage to my fair city?"

Those hands across the bellies again, this time all three.

Freaky.

I dangled a hand outside of my pocket and thought happy thoughts.

"We want what is ours," said Carla.

"And we will have it," muttered Hilda.

"Tyrone," I called to him. "Why don't you join me at the bar."

Tyrone scooted past the trio and darted by me. I didn't dare take my eyes off the witches because I knew they wouldn't bat an eye of newt to spell me in the back.