Uncrossing the Stars

Summary: Under threat, a witch must do a vampire’s bidding.

Forest & Fawn's "Vampire & Werewolf Challenge"

The story must contain the prompts:

1) Vampire and/or werewolf

2) A family recipe

3) A cursed object

4) A character who signs a contract

She could not fail; to do so would doom her family. Besides, she signed a contract with Miss Courvante of the Sanguine Family, and if she did not complete it based on the terms dictated, she would forever be enslaved to the calculating vampire for the rest of her life and her family killed. If the contract was not fulfilled, she was promised an eternity of misery. She had to succeed.

Arriving at the servant’s entrance, the majordomo cast a circumspect eye upon the woman standing on the doorstep, wearing a simple, drab peasant dress.

“Name?” he barked sharply at her.

“Copia,” she answered, her head bowed meekly.

“Yes, the new cook.” Stepping back from the doorframe, he snapped, “Well, just don’t stand there. Get in here, let’s get you a proper uniform befitting one serving the Poilu Family, and you can begin preparing the evening meal.”

Dressed in a uniform made entirely of black linen, she was led into a vacant kitchen, Copia asked, “Are there other kitchen staff?”

“No, we have difficulty retaining them. And the last cook left without word,” the majordomo lied, trying to give a vague enough answer so that it would not be questioned.

Copia knew the truth. Caesar had ripped the throat out of the last cook the previous night, which gave her the opportunity to become the new cook with little research into her background. She could still smell the ammonia used to clean up the blood lingering in the air.

To carry out her plan, she preferred if there was no one else around. There would be no servants asking what she was adding to various dishes every night. Witches preferred to work alone without being bothered or questioned.

Pulling out the corn husk doll that carried three hairs from nearly everyone in the Poilu family, Copia began her chant. The cursed object would be used in the preparation of meals.

Delivering the tureen of corn chowder to the butler’s pantry, she noticed a single hair floating on top of the soup. It was the same red color as some of the hairs affixed to the corn doll figure. She thought she had checked to make sure that none had come loose when she simmered the doll in the soup before discreetly fishing the single red hair out of the tureen, unobserved by the staff.

Peering through the small window, Copia asked, “Is Master Caesar joining tonight?” Nearly everyone in the Poilu family was seated at a grand banquet table overflowing with flowers and exotic fruits.

“No, Master Caesar is confined to his rooms for the night. You are to fix him a tray which I will take up to him later,” the majordomo instructed her, yanking her by the arm to pull her face away from the viewing window as footmen began carrying out bowls of the soup she had prepared earlier.

Later that night, as she had prepared the morning bread to slowly proof overnight, the majordomo came into the kitchen.

Clearing his throat, he announced, “Mistress Ylva enjoyed the braised squab, but was most delighted with the soup. She wanted to know how you learned to prepare such a sumptuous chowder.”

“It is nothing but an old family recipe,” she answered truthfully.

Giving a sniff, he informed her, “You have pleased the Mistress of the house, which is not an easy thing to do. You may remain to continue cooking for the noble House of Poilu.”

Copia bowed her head in modest acceptance of the praise but hid her true feeling of loathing towards the werewolf clan that ruled over the eastern half of the city. She needed this position to save her family.

Taking the tray Copia prepared, the majordomo asked, “Why is there no corn chowder for Master Caesar?”

“I did not know that I needed to reserve any for him separately, but I have prepared an equally savory soup for him to enjoy.”

Copia wondered if her ruse was seen through and she was discovered. To her relief, the majordomo said, “Given how displeased Master Caesar’s parents are with him, perhaps he should not have the benefit of enjoying such a fine soup. I did taste it myself and agree, it was superb.”

With a silent sigh of relief to herself, the witch prayed to the gods to succeed. She was the only living witch remaining in her family. If her parents and siblings were blessed by Hecate as she was with The Gift, instead of being ordinary mortals, then the only daughter of the Sanguine Family would be unable to hold them hostage. She regretted the moment Caesar Poilu walked into The Blind Cock Tavern she was working at in a small village a few miles out of town, earning extra income as a cook.

“Will Master Caesar be joining for dinner tomorrow night?” she asked. “So that I may save some aside if I need to make him another separate tray tomorrow night?” she clarified the purpose of her question.

“He will be supping with the family tomorrow night, barring any further…” the majordomo trailed off as his eyes traveled along Copia’s neck and collarbone, “incidents.”

She swallowed thickly. Everyone in town knew the entire Poilu Family were vicious werewolves, but it was spoken under hushed whispers, behind drawn curtains by the glowing coals of fires damped for the night. The only thing that terrified the townsfolk more than the Poilu Family was the Sanguine Family, which ruled the west side of the town, even more bloodthirsty than their nemesis, the Poilu. The enmity between families was only ever matched in the tale of Romeo and Juliet.

***

Preparing the roast for the next day’s evening meal, Copia disassembled the corn husk doll and used the husks to wrap the pork loin before setting to slowly roast in the castle kitchen’s hearth.

As the main course was being served, Copia was called into the dining room, and was bid to stand just behind and to the side of Caesar’s chair.

“So, you are the cook my son, Caesar, recommended to replace our old cook,” Mistress Ylva spoke, a thin smile gracing her otherwise impassive visage. Her vibrant red hair was elaborately coiffed and piled high upon her head.

“Yes, Mistress.” Copia bowed her head and dipped with a respectful but perfunctory curtsy.

“Where did you say you found this most culinarily gifted cook?” Ylva asked with an insouciant air that masked the circumspect questioning look with the sidelong glance out of the corner of her eye and an imperiously arched brow.

Copia saw the plate of thinly sliced pork loin served with mashed swedes, wild mushrooms and a thick, rich brown gravy placed in front of Caesar. She could not help it, but she swallowed nervously.

“I found her at The Hanging Moon, the tavern near the edge of town,” he volunteered.

Copia was glad she was not asked. She had no talent for lying.

With his arm, he gesticulated as he continued, “Just over by the–” Caesar stopped answering as his hand caught the lip of his goblet of wine, which fell over and dumped most of its contents into his lap.

Before Copia could react, instinctively grabbing her apron to mop up the spilled wine, despite her abhorrence to be any closer to Caesar than necessary, a footman stepped in and began cleaning up the mess.

Chewing on a bite of pork, Mistress Ylva praised, “It seems you have finally done something right, Caesar, and brought this household an excellent cook. Let’s hope your taste in potential brides improves to be as good as your ability to find an excellent cook.”

Turning her steely eye from her son to become softer towards Copia, she asked, “Where did you learn to cook this most succulent pork?”

“Just an old family recipe, Mistress.”

“Footman! Replace my son’s plate with a fresh one,” the Mistress ordered.

“Don’t bother, Mother. I am planning on joining company at Der Schröpfer later tonight.”

Upon announcing where the heir and next head of the Poilu Family was intending to frequent that night, the tension in the dining room rose visibly. Many other family members began to growl with a low rumble that reverberated in Copia’s chest, and a cold sweat broke across her brow, her body instinctively reacting with terror.

“Careful, son,” Caesar’s father warned him. “It is already night and that place borders on Sanguine territory.”

Upon mentioning their enemy’s name, that low growl from all the family members gathered around the table returned.

“Worry not,” he said, the only one at the table not in a mild state of agitation.

***

Today was hopefully the last day of Copia’s servitude under contract.

In a pot over hot coals, she turned the hairs and corn husks to ash before grinding them into a fine power and mixing with milk, honey, eggs, flour, salt, and the zest and juice of an orange before baking into rolls she would later fill with a sweet custard and coat with an orange glaze. Then she began preparing a special decanter of sherry.

After dessert was served, Caesar called Copia into the dining room.

Everyone but Caesar had enjoyed their dessert, licking their fingers as they finished. The untouched sweet bun remained on Caesar’s plate.

“Why did you call for the cook,” Mistress Ylva asked, dabbing the glaze from her lips.

“I have found a bride!” Caesar declared loudly.

Everyone seated at the table began laughing. “Please, not the cook! Fuck her, enjoy her cooking, but for Selene’s sake, don’t marry the mortal.”

Turning to the witch, Caesar asked, “Is it done?”

Copia closed her eyes and began the same chant she gave before placing the cursed corn husk doll into the chowder. Everyone except Caesar turned pale, their faces beginning to contort in pain and blood tearing in their eyes, streaking their faces with red.

“It is done,” Copia said with certainty.

The door to the dining room opened and in walked Courvant Sanguine, the only daughter and sole heir to the vampire family.

“We told you to get rid of your blood sucking bitch, that you would be dead before we allowed you to marry her,” Mistress Ylva gasped, her face twisted in a grimace of pain and loathing. She, like everyone else that ate Copia’s cursed dishes, was now bent over double in her chair.

Caesar laughed coldly. “I solved the problem by killing all of you who objected, so I am free. Just as Courvante has killed everyone in her family who objected to us being together.” Turning to her, he asked, “You did kill them, right?”

“All taken care of, dearest.” Turning to Copia, the vampire said, “Our contract is complete, I release you. Your family is safe now.”

Pouring the sherry and handing each a glass, Copia proposed, “Then a toast, to the star-crossed lovers who changed their fates. May you have a long life together.”

Caesar and Courvante raised their glasses and clinked before downing the sweet, fortified wine in one gulp.

After swallowing, a strange magic coursed through their bodies. Suddenly, Caesar’s and Courvante’s faces turned from one of love for each other to utter loathing. Their teeth bared, they snarled at each other.

“I hope you enjoyed the sherry. I added something a little extra, an old family recipe my grandmother, who was also a witch, taught me. You two are now bound to each other until the end of your lives, but you will now hate each other. A lesson to never fuck with a witch and her family.”

Copia turned and walked out of the dining room as the now former lovers were too occupied fighting each other, surrounded by the dead members of the Poilu Family, to attack the witch that foiled their plans to live happily ever after.