Writer's Toolbox—Story 1

The exercise I'll be using from The Writer's Toolbox requires you to randomly choose one stick from three categories—the First Sentence, the Non Sequitur, and the Last Straw—each of which have a writing prompt to use (I will have these in bold).

There I was, just standing there, when what I wanted to do was forbidden. I obviously didn't put much thought into this plan. Its success depended almost entirely on there being a shit ton of people in the square, like there are most days. Turns out that this wasn't most days. The stalls that were usually teeming with haggling merchants and their customers were closed up. "On Strike," read the sign on the stall closest to me. Well, now what? I couldn't carry out my task because without the busy crowd to hide in, there was no way I was going to be able to place the artifacts at the five points without getting caught, and after that, my chances of survival were slim. Using magic was outlawed and made punishable by death after the Queen's daughter died practicing the craft.

The artifacts were quite literally beginning to burn a hole in my pocket. I was running out of time. The town square was a well-known place of power once, and the items in my pocket were responding to that power. This was going to have to wait. I decided to return to the square at nightfall. Hopefully, by then, it wouldn't be too late.

I stepped through the door of my home with a sense of foreboding washing over me like a wave.

"Mom?" I called out into the quiet house. "I'm back." No response. "Apparently the merchants are on strike so—" when I turned the corner into the kitchen, I saw the reason for my mother's silence. Seated at my dining table with my daughter, Darcy, on his lap, was her father.

"Roderick," I addressed him curtly.

"Everleigh." he responded, his tone much warmer than my own.

"Momma!" Darcy sprung from her father's lap and ran to embrace me. In one swift motion I picked her up to put some space between her and Roderick.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"I was in town?"

"I thought I told you I don't want you anywhere near here as long as you continue to study that dark magic!"

"Heavens Ever, it's not 'dark magic,' it's only necromancy!"

"Are those not synonymous, Roderick?" The artifacts warming in my pocket caused me to shift focus. "Mom, could you please take Darcy and run a bath?"

She gave me a perceptive nod, hoisted Darcy onto her hip, and shuffled out of the kitchen. "Stay on your guard," she mouthed to me at the last moment, then she disappeared from view.

"Why are you really here, Roderick?"

"Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?"

I don't respond.

"I'll take that as a no."

"And you would be correct. Now, I think it's time for you to leave my house."

"Your house, Everleigh?" he shook his head and turned to walk away, but then something caught his eye. "Ever, please don't tell me those are the artifacts."

Shit. I glance down at my pocket—rather, what use to be my pocket —to see the artifacts singed straight through and were now in a smoldering heap on the floor.

"They aren't, they're... replicas." Shit.

"There you go making up lies again." That's what he told me. "You are such a hypocrite."

(aside: find this one a little awkward)

I knew I wasn't coming back from this.

"How dare you talk to me about dark magic," he bent to pick them up. Shit.

"Roderick, wait! I can explain."

"I don't want your goddamn explanation. You're not going to talk your way out of this one. I can't believe you ever had the nerve to-"

"Darcy is sick," I said quietly.

"-kick me out of the house. Sh-she's.." My words finally registered. He faltered. I helped him to his feet and explained my plan to use the artifacts to save our daughter, but I left out one detail.

When night fell, we left in the cover of darkness heading deeper into the town until we arrived at the square. Carefully we placed the five artifacts at the five points. They grew stronger by the second. I removed my shoes, and asked Roderick to do the same, imploring him not to let his bare feet touch the ground. Then I took off my socks.

Summoning the entity would be easy. It was the bartering that would prove to be difficult. But, even that I had worked out. I had been preparing for this as soon as Darcy got her diagnosis. Softly and slowly we began the chant. Our voices rose and fell as the power surged through us. There was a burst of light, and then darkness.

You are here for the life of your firstborn

The voice was both a bellow and a whisper, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"Yes, her name is Darcy."

You are willing to pay the price?

"Yes, I decided a long time ago. I would do anything for my little girl."

"Everleigh?" Roderick cried out from across the circle. "What are you talking about?"

Step forward, child.

I rose to my feet. Roderick finally understood what I was planning on doing that night. He started to dash toward me. There was no changing my mind though.

I wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Roderick collapsed before he could make it to me. It wasn't until his body hit the ground that I saw it—the hole in his sock.

The price is paid.

E. Noelle