There was not just one dreath, but a half dozen of them, swooping down along the mountainside. "This is quite unexpected," Agatha laughed without humor. She rolled her shoulders back and put on her serious-granny face. She flipped through the empty pages of the book, but nothing appeared. In fact, the closer the heard of dreath came to their small group, the more the book shuddered in her hands. The images from the beginning of the book began to melt into a solid black circle.
"Hide the book!" Agatha ordered, thrusting it into Falcoro's arms. "They're going to destroy it, too."
"We have to do it old-school style," Wicked agreed before turning her gaze on Agatha. "What does that even mean?"
Allie and Hector's backs arched and they hissed at the dreaths, who emitted a screech like a train careening out of control. Agatha frowned. "Well now, that is just unpleasant."
"Mistress, what would you like us to do?" Allie asked, voice low on a growl.
Agatha closed her eyes and thought of everything she knew about destruction and war, which admittedly, wasn't much. She read War and Peace in school and she lived through World War II, although that was a human on human war. She ran though show tunes in her head, something she always did to calm herself. Surely there was something...
"I've got it!" Agatha cried, the answer solidifying in her head. "Remember in RENT, we need to do the opposite of destruction. We must create!" She held her shaking hand out. "Knitting needles, stat!"
"Mistress, I'm not sure we have time to-" Hector started.
"No, this may be the thing to defeat them!" Falcoro encouraged, reaching into the bag and claiming the needles and a ball of yarn. He handed them to Agatha with an encouraging smile. "At least, I hope so. They have never been defeated."
"That's not super promising," Wicked said under her breath. "How in the world will knitting stop the dreaths?"
"Because we create with love, and love is stronger than death," Agatha explained. "Creation is the opposite of war. And this is war." Determined, she started to knit faster than she ever had, even in her younger years. She didn't feel the arthritis in her hands or wrists as she wound the yarn around the needle to make a row of stitches. She didn't dare glance up to see how close the dreaths were; she couldn't risk losing her concentration.
"Mistress, faster!" Allie pleaded.
"Do we have a back up plan?" Wicked asked.
"¡Silencio!" Hector growled.
Falcoro moved his body to stand in front of Agatha. "Agatha, we are very swiftly running out of time," he warned. "I wish I knew where Jaff was. I shouldn't have sent him to scout ahead of us."
As if on cue, a thunderous screech filled the sky before Jaff darted toward the group of dreaths, looking one hundred percent the part-wolf, part-rhinoceros creature that he was. Jaff was a rainbow of color compared to the absence of color that surrounded the evil creatures. They were hard to look at, made of otherworldly matter that didn't make sense to regular eyes.
Jaff tumbled into them like a bowling ball, scattering the dreaths before they regrouped with new intention. "He's distracted them," Allie breathed. "Hurry, Mistress."
Agatha wanted to lift her eyes to check on Jaff, but couldn't risk dropping a stitch. Never had making the perfect winter accessory been so imperative. Not even in the 1994 Knitting for a Cause competition, where she placed second for overall look and presentation.
As Agatha neared the end of another row, Falcoro cheered, making her jump a little. Her heart wasn't quite what it used to be. "Oh goodness," Agatha breathed.
"Two dreath's have vanished!" Falcoro explained, letting out a loud whoop for Jaff. "Keep going, Agatha. We've got this."
"Just, keep your voice down," Agatha grunted, refocusing on her work. "I need more yarn!" she ordered, her line growing tight.
"Drop the ball," Allie ordered, weaving around Falcoro's legs. He obediently dropped the yarn and Allie took over releasing it, rolling it around with her paw.
"Just don't start batting it back and forth," Hector teased.
"I will claw your face off in your sleep if you keep it up," Allie warned.
Wicked let out a huff, "Let her concentrate. Death threats are for after we survive this."
Agatha's eyes grew blurry from forgetting to blink. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and dropped a stitch. "Oh, no," she whispered, immediately correcting her movements. A loud screech filled the air as Jaff was injured by a dreath.
Agatha's chest tightened, so upset that her mistake had caused someone else pain. Without thinking, she raised her voice and shouted. "Come pick on someone your own age," Agatha called, her eyes flitting to the four dreaths. She completed another row on the scarf and watched as another dissolved in mid air.
"Should you be taunting creatures who are going to kill us and steal all of our knowledge?" Falcoro asked with concern.
"Oh, most definitely not. But I just can't stand the thought of Jaff getting hurt again," Agatha admitted.
The dreaths broke apart; two resumed their mission and descended through the air toward the group. The other circled Jaff, who was swiping at the creature and trying to get passed.
Agatha glanced up and confirmed her worst fear – she wasn't knitting fast enough. "What is the point of being The Chosen One if I don't get special knitting powers?" she complained.
Allie tilted her head to the side "Are we sure you don't get special knitting powers?" She looked at Falcoro for confirmation.
Wicked nodded, "Maybe all we need is to invoke them."
Hector paced back and forth in front of the group, his eyes locked on the incoming dreaths. "Now would be a muy bueno time to try."
Falcoro nodded and gently put his hand on Agatha's arm. "Just command your needles to knit faster. We'll know soon enough."
Agatha took a deep breath and opened her mouth to give the command, but a collective gasp cut her off. Her eyes immediately went to the sky to find Jaff falling to the earth. His body was limp and turned in on itself. His dreath followed close, sucking a silver stream from Jaff's body. "Not on my watch," she promised and looked to her needles. "Knitting needles, finish this scarf as fast as you can!"
Agatha shook off the silly feeling that caused her cheeks to burn at the though of ordering inanimate objects to do something and concentrated on her command. Within seconds, the needles ripped from her hands and started knitting the scarf at super speed. Agatha's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Well!" she said, unable to think of anything else.
One by one, the dreaths vanished until the finished scarf hovered in the air, twisting in the wind. But the joy of surviving the life-sucking creatures was instantly replaced with dread as Jaff's body floated down. Falcoro ran to him, catching him before he hit the ground. They sank down together, Falcoro's arms around his beloved beast.
Agatha's hand flew to her mouth as she sucked in a breath, her eyes filling with tears. Allie rushed over and pushed her head again Jaff's, trying to wake him. Hector let out a low mew before leaning against Wicked.
Not knowing what else to do, Agatha snapped her fingers and ordered the needles to return to her hands. They tied off the scarf and separated, falling neatly into her hands. She stuck the needles into the bag and carried the soft scarf over to Jaff. Carefully kneeling down next to him, she gently placed the scarf over his neck, hoping it would bring him comfort. "Is he...?" Agatha trailed off, unable to put the heartbreak into words.
Jaff twitched and let out a loud huff of breath.
YOU ARE READING
Project: Chosen Grannie
ParanormalThis idea was inspired by a post in the Penny Reid Sharks of Awesome Group. The proposed idea is to write a ridiculous and entirely just for fun serial novel in the style of Naked Came the Stranger based off of an idea originally found on tumblr and...
