Chapter 129 - Queen of Darkness

Morrigan directed Evelyn to Emma’s house, and soon they were pulling into the end of the driveway where two other cars were already parked.

“Okay, as promised, here you are,” Evelyn said with a smile. “Just please remember to keep in contact through text. I’ll be back to pick you up in four hours.”

“Yup, gotcha.” Morrigan nodded as she reached behind her seat to grab the bag of clothes. She figured Emma would want to see them.

Before getting out, Morrigan paused and added, “Thanks, by the way. I appreciate everything today.”

Evelyn smiled warmly. “Of course. I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner. You still need to live your life after all.”

Morrigan nodded, glad to hear that. At the shelter, there was absolutely no consideration for such things.

As she got out of the car, however, the moment was a bit spoiled as raised voices echoed from inside the house. She glanced back at Evelyn, whose brow furrowed, having also heard the yelling. After an uncertain moment, the front door swung open. Emma came bounding outside, her expression twisted in irritation, the flush of an argument fresh on her cheeks.

“Uh… everything alright?” Morrigan asked, taking a hesitant step forward.

Emma shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, it will be. Don’t worry.”

Evelyn climbed out of the car and approached Emma. “Ah, so you must be Emma.”

Emma’s face softened a bit. “Oh, hey. You’re Morrigan’s grandma?”

“Yes, I am. My name’s Evelyn. It’s nice to meet you.” Evelyn offered a small smile, but there was a flicker of worry in her eyes.

Before Emma could respond, her mom stepped outside, and the air seemed to chill instantly. Morrigan’s spine stiffened under the weight of the woman’s icy glare. She’d interacted with Emma’s mom a few times before, always in passing, always polite. There had never been any outright hostility—until now.

“Morrigan,” Emma’s mom’s voice was smooth but sharp. “Hello. It’s been a while.”

“Uh, yeah, sure has, ma’am.” Morrigan forced a small, polite smile, though every instinct told her to shrink away.

Evelyn’s gaze bounced between the three of them, assessing the situation with a practiced eye. She stepped forward, extending her hand. “Hello, thank you for having Morrigan over today. I do hope it’s alright.”

Emma’s mom didn’t take the offered hand. Instead, she shot Emma a pointed look—one Emma met with an equally frigid glare.

“Of course,” Emma’s mom said. “We know Morrigan quite well here.”

Evelyn maintained her poised smile, not withdrawing her hand immediately despite the cold reception. “I know it’s sometimes difficult to host on short notice, so I truly appreciate you accommodating us. Morrigan’s been looking forward to spending time with Emma.”

Emma’s mom finally shifted her attention fully to Evelyn, the sharpness in her gaze softening just a fraction. “Yes, well, I wasn’t informed until this morning.”

Evelyn’s voice remained gentle. “If it’s too much trouble, I completely understand. I’d be more than happy to take Morrigan back with me.”

Emma’s mom hesitated with deep frown lines on her face. “No, I supposeit’s fine.”

Emma seized the opportunity before any “buts” could come. Her fingers slipped into Morrigan’s hand and gave her a soft yank towards the door. “Thanks, Mom. We’ll be in my room!”

Without waiting for a response, Emma tugged Morrigan forward, practically dragging her up the steps and into the house. The abruptness of their departure left Evelyn and Emma’s mom standing in the awkward vacuum of unspoken tension.

The moment the door closed behind them, Emma let out a long breath, her shoulders dropping. “Ugh, sorry about that. She’s in a mood.”

Morrigan glanced back through the window, where Evelyn and Emma’s mom still stood, speaking with one another. “Is something going on?”

Emma led her down the hallway, their footsteps muffled by the carpet. “She’s just... I don’t know. I think she’s mad I didn’t tell her you were coming over. Or maybe she just wants to be on my case because of the whole witchcraft thing. Or maybe it’s just Tuesday .”

“Uh-huh...” Morrigan glanced down, just realizing her glove shifted subtly across her palm. “E-Emma, maybe you should be careful with my hand.” She didn’t want to sound paranoid, but the last thing they needed was for Emma to accidentally pull her glove off.

Emma slowed, glancing down at their hands. “Right. Sorry.” She loosened her grip but didn’t let go entirely.

Once they were in Emma’s room, the tension seemed to deflate all at once. Emma sighed, throwing herself onto her bed, her arms spread wide as if she needed to reclaim the space around her. “Sorry, Morrigan.”

“For what exactly?” Morrigan sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.

Emma stared at the ceiling, her expression somewhere between anger and exhaustion. “I think my mom doesn’t like the idea of you coming over. But I explained to her that it’s not her choice who I do and don’t hang out with. She’s already trying to keep me away from my cousin—she’s not going to keep me away from you too.”

“Is it because, uh…” Morrigan hesitated, scratching the back of her neck, feeling awkward about how to phrase it. “You know, because we’re together?”

Emma’s lips curved into a smirk. “I think she’s too dense to figure THAT much out, but I kinda want to throw it in her face anyway. Just to see if it’d cause her to short circuit.”

Morrigan’s own smile widened. “So then the problem is hanging out with a criminal delinquent runaway?”

“Pretty much. She won’t listen when I tell her that doesn’t mean anything and that you’re actually a good person. She’s just so judgmental. First, it was witchcraft, and now this. It’s like everything I do is some slight against this vague yet all-important ‘future’ I have ahead of me—like what future? The one where I pretend to be a perfect straight-A, straight-everything daughter and just go along with all her plans for me?”

“Well, guess it won’t matter anymore in a couple of years, right?”

“I can’t wait. I should ask Hilda how emancipation works and just move in with her. That would really drive my mom crazy if I did that. It’d be worth it just to see the look on her face.”

Morrigan grinned though it was forced through a frown. “Is it really that bad here?”

“Na, not really. Nothing I can’t deal with anyway. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep her in my life if she treats me like this.”

“Maybe talk to her?”

“Easier said than done,” Emma said.

Morrigan thought, Yeah, I get that. My relationship with my moms is pretty complicated, too, but in different ways.

“Anyway, sorry, I’m going on and on about myself again while you’re uh. Well, I know you’ve got a lot more going on.”

“No it’s alright, you don’t got to feel that way about it.”

“So, how is the kidnapper?”

Morrigan grinned. “Well… not too bad, honestly… I’m surprised. I thought for sure I was going to hate her, but she’s actually kind of cool.” She held up the shopping bag. “She bought me a bunch of clothes. Goth stuff.”

“OH! No way, let me see!” She said, practically ripping the bag from Morrigan’s hand. One by one, Emma started taking stuff out and looking at everything. “So, finally embracing your destiny, huh?” She snickered while holding up one of the shirts.

“Yeah, since I don’t have a choice, I figured I might as well.” She watched as Emma looked through everything and started making a pile.

“Okay, put these on.” Emma pointed to the closet. “Now.”

Morrigan rolled her eyes. “What? Forcing me into doing a fashion show for you?”

“Hey, this is your own fault for bringing all of this over. So I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

Morrigan grinned as she took the clothes from Emma and then went into the closet. The changeling didn’t seem to be bothering her today, so she kept the hoodie off. It just let a few of its tendrils come out and feel around as she changed but then slithered back into its hole like a good shoulder-demon when she put her new clothes on.

She came out wearing the lace top, skirt, and new fingerless gloves. Emma's grin with pride, like a designer who had successfully completed a makeover mission. “Nice. Dark princess of the underworld vibes. I love it.” Then she stood up, holding the choker. “Here, you forgot something.”

Morrigan’s cheeks warmed, and she ducked her head slightly to let Emma slip the choker over her. The cool band settled comfortably around her neck. It felt like old times—when they would hang out long before Morrigan died. Emma’s energy cut through the tension of her reaper duties hanging in the background.

Emma stepped back to admire Morrigan's transformation, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. "Okay, okay... You look amazing. But—" She held up a finger, her eyes narrowing in mock appraisal. "Something’s missing."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. "Missing? What else could I possibly need? I look like a Hot Topic mannequin already."

Emma ignored the quip and dashed over to her dresser, pulling open a drawer with a dramatic flourish. She rummaged through until pulling out a pair of knee-high socks adorned with colorful stripes.

"These," she declared.

Morrigan eyed the socks skeptically. "You know they're just going to turn black, right?"

Emma waved a dismissive hand. "Don’t worry, I never wear those, and it’ll still look cool. Trust me."

With a resigned sigh, Morrigan sat on the edge of the bed and began unlacing her boots. She slid off one boot, then the other, and replaced her plain socks with Emma’s. The fabric stretched snugly over her calves, the vibrant colors almost too bright against the rest of her dark ensemble.

And, as predicted, the colors began to seep away, fading into inky black. The stripes bled together until they were nothing more than shadowy bands wrapping around her legs. Emma let out a fascinated "whoa."

"That’s actually kinda badass," she said, leaning in to get a closer look. "It’s like your aura just... consumes everything."

Morrigan smirked as she slipped her boots back on, the contrast of the blackened socks against her lace skirt adding an extra layer of edge to the outfit. "What can I say? I’m a walking void."

Then, a third voice interrupted them. “Are you two quite finished?”

“Speaking of walking voids…” Emma muttered under her breath.

Both girls turned sharply to find Noir perched on the windowsill, his yellow eyes half-lidded with annoyance and tail curling around his paws. “I do hate to interrupt, but I’ll remind you there are still two names on your list, and they are some distance away.”

“Oh… right…” Morrigan sighed. “Sorry, Emma. Can you cover for me while I slip out?”

Emma frowned. “I mean, yeah. But do you really need to go so soon? You just got here.”

“Unfortunately, yeah. I’ll try to make it quick, though.”

Emma tilted her head with a finger under her chin, then a grin spread on her face. “Why don’t I just come with you?”

“Huh? Um, I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but…”

Emma waved her hand as if fanning the concerns away. “I mean, it's the middle of the day, so you can’t exactly shadow step. Therefore, you don’t have to worry about me slowing you down.”

“Won’t your mom notice if we’re both gone?”

“One second, I got something for that.”

Morrigan raised an eyebrow as Emma went back to her dresser and started digging through it. Whatever she was looking for was hidden deep down at the bottom, and she finally pulled it out.

It was a wooden sculpture of a frog with a wide-open mouth. Morrigan also noticed some runes caved into it that were similar to the ones painted on Arietta’s nails and tattooed on Hilda’s arms.

Morrigan grinned. “Okay, what are you up to?”

“Just a little spell Hilda taught me. It won’t help if Mom decides to force her way in, but it can… uh… well, I’ll show you.” Emma came to the center of the room and sat cross-legged, and motioned for Morrigan to join her. Then she held it out with it sitting in the palms of her hands. “Cover it with your hands as well. I’ll need to add your voice so it sounds authentic.”

Morrigan knelt down in front of Emma, her curiosity piqued. She placed her hands over Emma’s, her ungloved fingertips brushing against the cool, carved wood of the frog sculpture. The runes etched into its surface seemed to pulse faintly as if breathing in their touch.

“Okay, now just repeat after me,” Emma whispered. Her voice took on a steadiness that Morrigan wasn’t used to—something almost reverent. “Es’cathari, Vox umbra, audire verum, celare falsum na’ii.”

“Es’cathari, Vox umbra, audire verum, celare falsum na’ii,” Morrigan repeated, her own voice slipping into the same soft cadence. She felt a strange hum beneath her skin, like the air before a storm.

The frog’s wide, open mouth seemed to deepen, shadows gathering in its hollow throat. A soft vibration pulsed through their hands, and Morrigan’s breath caught as a faint echo of their voices drifted from the sculpture—just a whisper, but enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Emma grinned, her eyes alight with mischief. “Okay, here’s how it works. Basically, if there’s an intruder—like, say, my mom—this little guy will mimic what she might expect to hear. So if she comes by, she’ll hear us quietly talking. If she knocks, she’ll hear me telling her to go away. Simple, right?”

Morrigan’s eyes widened. “That’s... kinda brilliant. But will it actually work?”

Emma shrugged, the casualness of the gesture not quite hiding her pride. “Works like a charm. I set it up every time I sneak out to meet with you or to visit Hilda. As long as no one tries to actually come in, it’ll hold.”

Morrigan let out a low whistle. “You’re way better at this witchcraft thing than I thought.”

“Well, I’ve had a good teacher.” Emma chuckled as she got up, then gingerly placed the wooden frog in front of the door then flicked the lock by the doorknob. “This is actually a pretty simple spell, though.”

“One more problem,” Morrigan added. “How do we get out of the house? I don’t think I can use perception blocking to hide both of us.”

“We’ll get out ye’ old fashion way,” Emma said, twirling a finger in the air until pointing it at the window. “How are you at climbing? There’s a tree by the roof we’ll need to use.”

Morrigan grinned. “Yeah, no problem there.”

Noir made a sound similar to clearing his throat as he put a paw by his mouth. “I hate to interrupt, but wouldn’t it be preferable to simply leave Emma behind? After all, a witch should not be so involved in a reaper’s duties.”

“Oh, come on, buzz kill,” Emma answered before Morrigan could. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll stand back while Morrigan does the deed. Okay?”

Morrigan clapped her hands before Noir could make any more complaints. “Wellp, that settles it. Sounds like I got a ride-along today.”

“Yes!” Emma pumped a fist.

Noir sighed but didn’t complain. Morrigan figured he was getting used to it by now and understood he wouldn’t be able to talk them out of it.

Morrigan reached for her hoodie, which was draped on the side of the bed, until Emma said, “Hang on, what are you doing? That thing will totally ruin your outfit.”

“Yeah, I know, but I need it for the seal.”

Emma put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “The changeling isn’t acting up right now, though. Is it?”

“Well… no… but it could. If something happens and I lose control of it with no way to contain it…”

“Hmmm… I got another idea.” Emma walked over and grabbed the hoodie from Morrigan, then slipped her arms through and put it on. She splayed her arms wide as if modeling on a runway. "There! Now the hoodie isn't ruining your outfit, and I can hold onto it for safekeeping. If anything goes wrong, I'll just toss it to you."

Morrigan opened her mouth to protest, but Emma's determined expression left no room for argument. "You sure? I mean, if the changeling starts acting up, I might need it fast."

Emma gave her a thumbs-up. "Trust me, I'll stay close. And if it gets bad, I'll chuck this thing to you like my life depends on it."

Morrigan snorted. "Okay, fine, but just be aware that might be literal.”

Noir leapt from the windowsill, his form stretching into a fluid shadow as he landed soundlessly on the floor. "If we are quite done with wardrobe logistics, may we proceed?"

Morrigan nodded, sharing a quick look with Emma as she led the way to the window and tugged it open.

A soft breeze rustled the curtains, and the scent of summer leaves filtered into the room instantly. Emma swung one leg over the sill, glanced back, and grinned. "Right this way, my queen of darkness."

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Chapter 130 - Face Down