The Purple House: Chapter One

There's a lot more coming for you than you realize.

What's coming for me?

Oh, all the world.

***

It was the crescent moon's turn to witness the night.

The celestial rock lounged in the sky, its lazy attention turned to a forest below, hoping for a bit of amusement—

Perhaps a skirmish from a pair of worthy rivals, or a chase between predator and prey that would keep its watcher guessing until escape or capture concluded it.

To the moon's great disappointment this night proved just as dull as many of the others. It was a shame really, that such beautiful darkness would go to waste, and the woods would yet again sleep through the splendor of the moon's world.

The satellite resigned to turn away and talk to the stars, those gossip-loving infants, when pandemonium erupted below.

An invisible wave carried by a shrill, piercing note cut through the trees, making the earth shiver.

If the woods had been quiet before, now they were a corpse.

Even the night birds and bugs closed their mouths, sensing a great and terrible change had just taken place.

The moon searched for the source and found a trio of bizarre characters:

A girl, a buck, and a monster.

The buck and the monster were locked in a violent struggle while the girl stood by in horror. When the girl turned to flee, the buck grabbed the monster to keep it from giving chase—but the monster called out, catching the attention of all manner of fiendish brutes in the woods. They ceased whatever loathsome activity engaged them and turned their attention to the girl.

A fight and a chase, the moon got them after all.

It almost regretted having such a desire, for it could do nothing to help the poor girl.

It could only shine on and watch as a ghastly pursuit began in the forest below.

***

'What you seek is in front of you!'

Credence hadn't a clue where she was heading, but she trusted in Isolam's words that safety was near. She tripped and stumbled, falling to the ground several times, but fear drove her on, even as her arms and legs were given a hundred scratches from the forest. She would run until sunrise if she had to. She'd run clear out of the woods if it meant getting away from the Collector.

The monster, the vile demon.

Images of its horrifying form flashed through her mind and bit into her courage.

Tall, twisted horns. Ichor pouring from a blackened ribcage. Fangs, sharp as blades, set in an emotionless skull surrounded by feathers and fur.

She heard the call of the Collector's minions, wicked beasts awake and prowling in the night.

Roused, she feared, to find her and drag her back to their master.

Keep running, her mind screamed, no matter what nips at your heels and roars behind you!

She cleared the trees and found herself in a moderately-sized meadow, a patch of grass surrounded by the woods.

A short distance ahead, moonlight washed over the familiar shape of a roof and walls sitting atop a slight hill.

The sight spurred her on, and to combat the fear that she might collapse from fatigue before reaching it, she imagined she was a horse being kicked for more speed.

Desperate in her haste, she didn't stop when she reached the house, but slammed into the faint outline of its door, and the sudden impact of her head crashing against wood made her stumble back, dizzy. She fell upon the door, beating furiously against it and screaming to catch the attention of whatever dwelled on the other side.

It was only then that she realized the door was purple.

A very specific shade, if she could tell in the limited light.

Credence took a step back, taking in the walls and roof.

The shade of Ma's book.

She might have been mistaken, or it could have been another trick of the night, but it did not matter now. Her only concern was that the door opened.

"I seek the master or mistress of the house," Credence cried, returning to the door to strike it. "Please! Help—please!"

There was a rustling from inside, and a woman's voice, muffled behind the heavy wood of the door, answered:

"Who's that? Sprites?!"

"I'm a girl—Credence!"

The howling and chattering grew louder. Credence looked over her shoulder and saw movement in the meadow grass. A long, unidentifiable shape was slithering towards her.

"Please, let me in!"

The voice behind the door gave a mocking tut. "Sounds like the lie of an imp."

"My ma sent me! You're my aunt!"

Silence.

Credence whimpered and braced herself for an attack. The door cracked open, and a face half-hidden in shadow peered at her.

"I'm your...what?"

Credence clutched the door frame for support.

"Galeia's...child..." Credence managed through panting, then repeated once more lest the woman hadn't heard, "Credence..."

The door opened fully, and standing in its place was a squat, grizzled woman, shorter than Credence by a head, her face a mass of wrinkles and her expression sour.

"You know Galeia?" the old woman asked skeptically, looking Credence up and down several times.

"Her daughter..." Credence sputtered. "Please...they're after me..."

The cry of an animal punctuated her words.

"Galeia's daughter, eh? Should've said that first! Come in now, 'fore the wolves get you."

The woman grabbed Credence and pulled her roughly inside, slamming the door behind them and twisting numerous locks to secure it. With no other thought than to catch her breath and escape the night, Credence went obediently along as the woman ushered her to a chair in front of a small fireplace. The woman stood back, watching with an unimpressed expression as Credence panted and gasped, waiting perhaps a little too long to offer the girl water, as if she'd forgotten a host's manners.

"You're in a state," she noted without a hint of care, handing Credence a mug of water at last. "Mind telling me why you're knockin' on my door in the dead of night?"

The woman grabbed the empty mug from Credence's hands, not moving to offer a second, and waited for a reply. Credence took another moment to steady her breathing, as her host grew no less impatient, until she was finally calm enough to explain herself.

"Thank you," she began, but the old woman snapped at her.

"Damn your manners and answer my question!"

"Ma sent—Galeia sent me to find you. I've been looking for so long—"

"Why would Galeia send her daughter to me?"

"She said you would keep me safe."

The woman snorted. "Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"How do I know Galeia sent you, huh? How do I know this isn't some trick?"

What trick? Credence thought but held her tongue. The old woman shook her head.

"Got no proof, you'll go right back outside."

"No! Wait! I have proof! I have—" Credence dove into her skirt pockets for Ma's book, but was horrified to find them empty.

Had she dropped it in her haste to get away from the Collector?

No. She'd left it behind when she went dancing in the woods. Credence could almost laugh at such foolishness. She'd tried so hard to keep the book safe, and now, perhaps when she needed it most, it had been carelessly forgotten, and was still sitting by the lantern in a place she would never see again.

All of Ma's wisdom and guidance and spells...

Lost forever.

When Credence pulled empty hands from her pockets the woman nodded.

"Just as I thought, now get out."

"There's something else! I promise I can prove it to you!" Credence searched the frenzied chaos of her mind.

It dawned on her. The gift she could never lose.

"Look at this!" Credence rolled up her sleeve to reveal the skin symbol Ma had given her children before sending them off. "She put it there herself. It's for protection."

The old woman grabbed Credence's arm and pulled it close to her face. She produced spectacles from a hidden pocket in her clothing and slapped them over her eyes.

"This mark..." the woman murmured.

A peculiar noise gurgled within her, and it rose from her chest and into her throat. When her mouth fell open she released a loud, ugly laugh. Credence gawked at her, unsure how anything about this situation could be humorous. She thought to comment on her host's rudeness, but the woman abruptly pushed the arm she had been examining away and left the room without further explanation, pausing only to point a gnarled finger at Credence and warn, "Stay where you are."

Credence took this moment alone to inspect her surroundings.

She was in an entryway that opened into a hallway behind her, where several closed and foreboding doors loomed. Credence counted six of them, three on each side, which was far more than she imagined possible for a house to contain. She wondered if the house had two floors, something she'd heard of in stories of rich nobility. On the walls hung faded portraits, every face in them painted with an expression of agony.

Was this really the house at the end of Ma's map? Had Credence finally reached the mysterious aunt that Ma had only bothered to mention right as she was shuffling her children into the woods? The one she and Josiah had—

Josiah.

A rush of sadness overtook her, and she couldn't keep the tears from falling.

She'd lost Ma's book, but worst of all she'd lost Josiah. A whimper passed her lips.

"Stop those tears," a nasty voice commanded behind her.

A small iron pot landed with a heavy thud beside Credence's feet.

The old woman poured water into the pot and set several small vials next to it. She tore the cork from a pink vial with her teeth and poured its contents into the water, which turned pale and murky. She spat into the pot and quickly added the contents of two more vials before turning to Credence.

"Your hand," she demanded, and Credence blankly offered it without question. The woman withdrew a pair of scissors from her pocket, and before Credence could protest she slashed a thin line across Credence's palm and held it over the pot, squeezing several drops of blood into the bubbling concoction.

"May I know your name?" Credence asked, hoping to provoke a friendly response from her host.

"Hush, girl," the woman hissed, her eyes focused on the pot. After a moment she mumbled, "Name's Lilith. Be still and let me work."

Credence remained silent as Lilith wrapped her palm with a cloth and added a stick of cinnamon to the potion. A thin vapor rose from the pot and Lilith bent over to inhale it.

"Grant me eyes to see," she whispered as the vapor flowed into her nostrils.

When she opened her eyes Credence gasped to see that they had become the same color as the contents of the pot: A pale shade of green. Lilith moved to her guest, inspecting her like an animal for purchase, touching her hair, her arms, her feet, her skin symbol.

"Give me your story," Lilith whispered, but held a finger to Credence's lips to silence the girl. It would not be words that told Lilith all, it would be Credence herself. The ritual continued for a long while, with Lilith getting increasingly impersonal. She sniffed at Credence's ears and licked a stripe across her wrist with a gray tongue. Credence tensed as she was touched, but remained determined not to appear uncooperative, knowing the woman would all too easily throw her back into the night. Ma warned that Credence's aunt was not a kind person, and the key to staying in her good graces was remaining respectful.

Credence thought of Isolam fighting the Collector, and wondered if the buck had been victorious. Despite the fear that still gripped her, there was a sense of awe about the power she had unleashed—the great scream that threw the Collector into the trees.

If only she knew how she had done it.

She thought of the Queen of the Wood, revealed to have been secretly protecting Credence from afar, and who was most likely doomed because of it.

Guilt crept into Credence's thoughts. She was responsible for the fall of so many. Pa. Josiah. The Queen. Isolam.

All for the sake of her.

For the sake of nothing, Credence thought bitterly.

And what of Ma? Did she reach the towns? What help would she find there? What could she—

"Stop your incessant thoughts!" Lilith snarled. "You'll wake the whole damned wood with all that thinking!"

Credence tried to concentrate on nothing at all, but it was nearly impossible to do for longer than a few seconds. At last, Lilith stood back and looked at her guest. The witch's eyes had returned to their normal color and she had her hand on her hips, as if she expected Credence to do or say something.

"Quite a tale you've spun," Lilith said, though she seemed unconcerned by any of it. "Seems you were tellin' the truth after all. Galeia's your mother, so I am your aunt."

It was a bizarre admission, almost unbelievable. Ma was a beautiful woman with a kind face and pleasant demeanor.

Lilith was the exact opposite.

It felt unfair to compare the two, much less believe they were sisters. Still, Lilith was family, possibly the only relative Credence had left.

Credence started to move for a hug, but stopped herself. Lilith did not seem like the sort of person who touched anyone out of love.

"Are you a witch?" Credence asked instead, hoping conversation was the right way to befriend a creature like Lilith.

"Obviously."

"I'm sorry, Ma didn't tell me much about you. Did you grow up with her in the woods?"

Lilith's eyes grew wide at the question.

"Grew up with her?! No, child!"

"But you're her sister."

"And? Don't have to grow up with someone to be their sister. Blood ties a family, not a childhood."

Credence remembered something Ma had revealed about her early life. Ma's real mother was a dark witch who bore her daughter through blood magic, intending to raise a disciple. But Ma turned from wickedness. So her sister—

"Took her place," Lilith replied bluntly, finishing Credence's thought. "Aye, child, I'm here where Galeia should have been. A strong dark witch." She smiled unpleasantly, showing a mouth with several missing teeth.

"But...Ma said her mother died when she was just a baby," Credence said. "How did you—"

"Survive? Wasn't easy. But what do I need a mother for when I've got all her books and spells around me, eh? Taught myself and proved more powerful than Galeia could ever dream of being." Lilith spat on the ground. "I curse Galeia for running off and leaving me alone. But I did fine without a sister or mother, oh yes, I did."

Nasty thing, Credence thought and Lilith grunted.

"Got your blood in my nose, girl," she said with a wicked wink. "Means I got your thoughts, too. Best be keeping them nice and grateful on me now, or I'll throw you at the Collector's feet myself."

"Why don't you?" Credence asked. "Seems natural that a dark witch would serve a dark master."

"I serve no one but myself." Lilith raised her finger towards Credence and her long, brown nail almost touched the end of the girl's nose. "But don't think twice that I won't give it a gift if you give me reason to. So Galeia wanted me to keep you 'til she comes to fetch you, eh?" Lilith's eyes held a hideous twinkle. "Never said how long that might be, did she?"

"No."

"No, marm."

"No, marm."

"I won't keep you for free." Lilith scratched the stray hairs sprouting from her chin. "Could use a servant, though. Could better use an apprentice."

Credence's frown tightened. "I'll not practice dark magic."

"Then you'll be bound and thrown before the Collector!" Lilith roared, growing tall and threatening. "And let Galeia fetch what it leaves of you—if she can!"

Credence stood, defiance etched across her face and her fists balled tightly. Lilith did little more than blow a small puff of air, but it sent Credence back into the chair with the force of ten hands pushing her.

"This is my offer," Lilith said. "I can mold you into a fierce dark witch, or I can throw you into the woods with all the evil in the world at your back." She raised a thin eyebrow. "Well? What's it to be? Me? Or out there?"

Emotions swirled inside Credence.

She was angry at Ma for sending her to this house and thinking Lilith could be trusted.

She was afraid of what the crone might force upon her.

And she was horrified to think that Lilith's purple house might be the last haven left to her.

And yet.

Ma wouldn't have sent her children somewhere if she thought they wouldn't survive. Perhaps she intended for Credence to learn something here.

"Aye, you're thinking clearly now," Lilith said. "Galeia knew my power was great and could serve you well. But are you clever enough to listen?"

Resignation doused the fury inside of Credence.

Perhaps one day I'll be powerful enough to defeat the Collector, she thought. But not before teaching this hag a lesson in manners.

Lilith winked at the girl.

"You can certainly try, and I welcome the night you do."