Larry's Familiar Tale: The Crossroads Keeper, #0

1

A FAMILIAR MEETING

L ook, I’m telling you, I don’t think her death was natural. I’m sure that bitch witch killed her. Larry’s fierce gaze swung around the covenstead’s meeting room, blasting every Familiar present with fiery defiance.

Meows, growls, and chitters of protest filled the tense silence that followed his furious outburst. Larry shifted his weight, and the ornate wooden chair groaned in protest. The large room’s assortment of delicate antique furniture was not meant for his massive Rottie-Pitt canine body.

Suppressing a frustrated growl, he cajoled the gathering of magical Familiars. Come on guys, this isn’t right, and you know it. Since our witch partners won’t do it, then we Familiars have to investigate Mabel’s death. We can’t just let that bi— uh, Litha take over as High Priestess without making sure she’s worthy of the role.

Larry woofed defiantly. Look guys, I’ve been Mabel’s Familiar for almost a century. We are ... were close, and she never once mentioned to me she had changed her mind about Jesse taking her place if anything happened to her. He growled, Mabel would have told me.

The ancient grandmother clock against the wall chimed twice, its deep bong echoing throughout the dimly lit room. Orange flames in the fireplace reflected silver in the animal eyes of the gathered Familiars.

A sleek, ebony feline jumped onto the long conference table. Back arched in a sinuous stretch, she gave a disdainful meow. Are we gonna listen to this mangey mutt’s ranting for much longer? It’s well after midnight, and I’d like to get back to my hunt. I’ve got better things to do than listen to Larry’s mad conspiracy theories.

He does have a point, though, Cleo, objected the midnight black raven perched on the mantle, feathers ruffling in the warm draft from the fire. Mabel was only just over two hundred years old. She should have had a good century left in her, at least. Heck, I’ve known witches who made it almost to the half millennium mark. Maybe we should investigate our High Priestess’s death. It’s just a little too convenient that Litha was the only one with Mabel when she died—especially since she supposedly recently changed her mind and appointed Litha as her successor, instead of Jesse. We only have Litha’s word for that, remember.

The raven’s bright yellow eyes studied the cat on the table. Cleo, as magical Familiar to Jesse—the coven member everyone expected to be the next High Priestess, I would have thought you’d be eager to discover if there was any foul play or shenanigans concerning the unexpected leadership succession change. Unless there’s something you’re not telling us?

A tense silence filled the air at Sid’s bold challenge. Larry’s powerful muscles bunched under his sleek, dark fur as the surrounding Familiars gazed avidly between Sid and Cleo. He had done his best; it was up to others now either to support his request for an investigation or to deny it. To believe him or not.

Cleo broke the silence, snorting in derision and giving the raven a narrow-eyed glare. Listen, Sid, I’ve been Jesse’s Familiar for almost a century. If anyone should know that she’s not suitable to lead this coven, it would be me. She curled her lips in feline disgust. Jesse just isn’t High Priestess material, folks. Seems like Mabel finally realized that and appointed a better successor.

Voices rose in shocked protest at Cleo’s denunciation of her long-time magical partner.

Now hang on a minute, Cleo.

Jesse’s the smartest witch we have!

You can’t believe that Mabel would⁠—

Jesse’s always been good to me⁠—

Larry closed his eyes and heaved a dejected sigh. Not enough voices protested Cleo’s silkily persuasive words. Not nearly enough. Most of the Familiars ranged around the room kept their silence and avoided eye contact with each other. And with him. He had lost, despite support from a few valiant souls like Sid the Raven.

There would be no investigation of their late coven leader’s untimely death. Litha would be sworn in as the new High Priestess on the next Full Moon ... in less than a week’s time.

Goddess, help them all.

2

IT’S TOO LATE

Early morning light cast a golden glow over the pasture. Jesse reclined under the swaying branches of a massive willow tree whose deep roots anchored the earthen bank and extended into the stream below. A small waterfall murmured gently, helping to soothe Jesse’s grieving soul. She had to accept the truth, whether or not she wanted to. Mabel was dead. Her High Priestess and best friend for almost a century had crossed into the Underworld, leaving Jesse and the rest of the coven confused, saddened, and at odds with each other. And worse.

Despite her best efforts, Jesse’s thoughts kept returning to the horrible scene that had played out several days earlier, when Litha, a relatively new coven member, had returned from a walk in the woods with grave news. Mabel had always been an attentive listener; coven members regularly sought her out for advice, which was usually dispensed during a walk with their High Priestess on the coven’s extensive grounds.

When Litha had walked out of the woods that day, she calmly told everyone that Mabel was dead, her body already absorbed back into Mother Earth. While the news of her friend’s death had shocked and saddened Jesse, she had vowed to step into the High Priestess role for which Mabel had trained her. She would do it for the sake of the coven.

Sobs and wails of grief had echoed in the air, but Litha had remained strangely unmoved. Even now, Jesse could swear the woman’s eyes had sparkled in sly triumph, but the expression had been fleeting. Instead, face grave with portent, Litha had raised her hands and called for silence.

Once everyone quieted, Litha had dropped a second bombshell. Listen up, coven members. While our late coven leader’s death is very sad, I think she may have been expecting it. You see, Mabel told me six months ago that she no longer thought Jesse the best fit to run the coven in the event of her death and that she needed to train a suitable successor.

Litha’s next words had almost destroyed Jesse, and they were still reverberating through the coven days later. The thing is, Mabel has been training me ever since then to take over as High Priestess, in the unfortunate event of her death.

Amid shocked gasps, and with everyone’s not-as-surprised-as-they-should-have-been gazes pinned on her, Jesse had simply nodded and hurried away to mourn her friend and mentor. She had been avoiding her coven-mates ever since.

Jesse absently ran her fingers over the willow tree’s leafy strands. What did it really matter, anyway? She mused sadly. In truth, she had always wondered at Mabel’s wisdom in appointing her as successor all those years ago. Jesse knew she had never really fit in with the other coven members, most of whom kept her at a distance. While this social exclusion had made her an introvert, she had always faithfully performed her coven duties, despite private doubts about her fitness for the future leadership role for which Mabel insisted she was the best choice.

She sighed, wondering if Mabel had recently seen the error of her ways and decided to bypass her for another, more suitable coven member. But Litha? No, it surely couldn’t be.

A faint breeze whispered through the willow fronds, the tree’s soft, leafy strands whispering across her tear-stained cheeks. Jesse recalled her last private conversation with Mabel just over a week ago. They had been sitting in the dim light of the High Priestess’s study sipping an excellent red wine from fancy crystal goblets—one of Mabel’s few indulgences. A slight frown had wrinkled the coven leader’s brow.

What’s the matter, Lady Mabel? You look worried. Is it the wine? Should I get you a fresh glass? Jesse had asked her long-time friend and mentor.

Mabel had shaken her head and forced a smile. Nothing’s the matter, Jesse, dear. I’m fine. There’s a situation with one of the coven members that is concerning me a little. But no matter. I’ll handle it.

If you tell me about it, maybe I can help, Jesse had replied, sipping her wine slowly, leaving space for Mabel to decide whether or not to share her worries.

I think—no, I suspect .... Mabel had started, before halting and rubbing her eyes with a sigh. Listen, Jess, I would really rather not say too much until I’m absolutely sure. I’ll tell you this much, though: someone’s had their hand in the coven’s coffers. That, I’m sure of. And there’s, ah, a bit more to it than that, I suspect. But never mind all that for now. Mabel had then pointedly changed the subject.

Jesse fervently wished Mabel had been willing to share more about her suspicions during that last meeting. When Jesse had pressed for details, Mabel had simply shaken her head, telling Jesse she needed to confirm her suspicions before she shared them.

The breeze stiffened, blowing the willow tree’s fronds into a merry dance. Jesse shivered, but not from the chill wind. She should have demanded Mabel give her answers. Now, it was too late. For everyone.

3

THE CONSPIRACY CAT

Larry gobbled down the last of his morning meal, then gave a satisfied belch before running his tongue around the bottom of the bowl to ensure he hadn’t missed a single piece of kibble. No such luck, though. No more kibble.

And no more Mabel, Larry brooded sadly. He heaved a dejected sigh, ears flat against his massive head. This was one of the last meals he would eat at the High Priestess’s house. In less than a week, it would be the Full Moon, when Litha would be sworn in as the coven’s new High Priestess, and he’d be officially out of a job.

Even if Litha wanted him to stay on as the coven’s High Familiar, which Larry highly doubted, there was no way he would agree. He couldn’t work magic with a witch he despised ... one he suspected of murdering Mabel, his magical partner and best friend.

That witch bitch would just have to bring her ancient toad Familiar with her when she took over as High Priestess. Burt wasn’t the sharpest toad in the shed, or the most magical, but he’d do as High Familiar in a pinch.

The pantry door swung open, revealing Cleo’s smug feline smile. You’d better chow down now, mutt. You’ll be out on your ear soon.

Oh, stuff it, Cleo, Larry snarled at the cat. What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be helping Jesse prepare for the Full Moon induction ritual? Even if she won’t be the next High Priestess, as a coven member, she still has a role to play in the ritual.

Cleo’s sinuous body slunk into the pantry, then she sprang onto a narrow shelf high above Larry’s head. She casually licked her paw before running it over her glossy fur. Jesse doesn’t need my help anymore. Anyway, I’m too busy assisting my soon-to-be new magical partner get ready for the ritual.

Recently eaten kibble roiled in Larry’s stomach, leaving him nauseous. Oh, no. So ... Litha’s asked you to be her High Familiar, has she?

Yep. Cleo’s muzzle wrinkled in a self-satisfied grin.

It figures, Larry muttered in disgust. But what happens to Burt?

Cleo’s eyes gleamed with malice. Burt will be retiring from the coven. Permanently. It’s about time for that old toad to return to the Underworld so those losers at the Department of Eternal Animal Familiars can issue him a new body and assign him a new magical gig, don’t you think?

Larry schooled his features so the horror he felt didn’t reflect on his face. Litha plans to sacrifice Burt at the Full Moon ritual, doesn’t she? His heart hurt for the aged Familiar. The poor toad’s physical death and his spirit’s untimely arrival at DEAF for reassignment was cruel and unnecessary. That bitch.

Cleo balanced on the narrow shelf, then dove over Larry’s head before landing on an even narrower shelf on the far wall. She gave Larry a haughty smile. It’s a High Priestess’s prerogative to request a new High Familiar when she ascends to the role. You know that, dog breath.

Larry growled at the scheming cat. Usually, it’s just a personnel shuffle, Cleo—and you damn well know that. It’s been centuries since a new High Priestess sacrificed her outgoing Familiar, instead of just reassigning them within the coven. Why can’t she just let Burt find a new magical partner? Or assign him to Jesse? Since you’re leaving her, she’ll need a new Familiar⁠—

Jesse already has a new Familiar, Cleo purred. You.

What?! Larry barked in shock. With Mabel ... uh, gone, I figured I’d be heading back to DEAF for a new assignment ... uh, after I take care of a few things. Larry wasn’t about to tell Cleo of his plan to investigate Mabel’s death. Even though the other Familiars refused to help, he was determined to discover the truth.

You don’t have a choice, I’m afraid, Cleo replied. The sleek feline stared coolly down at Larry and snickered. Litha has already cleared your new Familiar assignment with your case worker at DEAF. You and Jesse are a magical team now. I warn you; she’s not the easiest witch to work with. She’s ... distant. Not too bright. A bit of a prude. Doesn’t think the ends always justify the means ... if you know what I mean.

Larry suppressed the menacing growl that threatened to escape his muzzle. He’d be damned if he let Cleo see how her cruel, disloyal words about her former magical partner affected him. Jesse is the smartest—and most powerful witch in this coven of magical misfits, Cleo. I’ll be proud to partner with Jesse as her new Familiar.

Head held high, Larry stalked out of the pantry. He vowed to make sure he and Jesse developed a great personal and magical relationship. But first, he had to break the news to her that her long-time feline Familiar had deserted her for greener magical pastures. He didn’t think Jesse would be too upset about it, though. She wasn’t a cat person—even if said cat was her Familiar. And Cleo was SUCH a cat.

Once he explained things, Larry was sure Jesse would happily accept him as her new magical partner. He could then convince her to help him investigate Mabel’s death. Once they uncovered the truth, they could sort out that bitch, Litha, and take back the coven’s reins.

4

A NEW MAGICAL PARTNERSHIP

S oooo, it doesn’t bother you that Cleo has accepted a transfer? Larry stood by Jesse’s bed, studying his new magical partner through narrowed eyes. She was taking the news of Cleo’s defection even better than he expected. Rather too well, in fact.

He wondered if her lack of reaction resulted from depression over Mabel’s death, or from being unexpectedly denied her rightful leadership role in the coven. Probably a bit of both, he reasoned.

Nope, I’m not disappointed in the least. The mound of pillows in which she had buried her head muffled Jesse’s matter-of-fact statement. Never was a cat person ... and Cleo was such a cat. I’m perfectly happy to be without a Familiar for the foreseeable future.

Larry sneezed to cover his snicker at Jesse’s unknowing repetition of his own low opinion of Cleo ... and cats, in general. He heaved his bulk onto the bed and pawed away the pillows so he could observe Jesse’s face when he shared the rest of his news.

Um, I’m afraid there’s more.

Jesse eyed Larry with raised brows, a flicker of interest lighting her gaze. "What? Don’t