Page 25

Morning Glory (No More Gory)

C auldron Falls awakened to a brilliant morning, the events of the blood moon night already transforming into the stuff of town legends.

Shop owners removed garlic strands from their doorways, magical barriers were dismantled, and the community began the process of returning to normal---or as normal as a magical town could be.

At The Boozy Cauldron, Murphy O'Reilly served breakfast to a packed house, everyone eager to share their version of the previous night's excitement.

"I saw the whole thing," Gloria announced to anyone who would listen, her flaming red curls even more untamed than usual. "When that vampire's hair piece fell off, I nearly died!"

"Not as funny as the spray tan running down his neck," Colin Scott countered, sliding into the booth beside her. "Looked like he'd been dunked in pumpkin juice."

Blewy, Gloria's Russian Blue familiar, sniffed disdainfully from his perch on a nearby stool. "The sparkled leather jacket was the true crime against fashion. 'Bite Me' in rhinestones? Seriously?"

The Salem Magical Authority transport had arrived just before dawn, a sleek black carriage pulled by winged horses that left no tracks.

The six vampire enforcement agents---stern witches and warlocks in crisp gray uniforms with silver badges---had efficiently loaded Ronald and his coven into containment chambers specially designed for transporting the undead.

"This is an outrage!" Ronald had bellowed as they secured his hands with silver cuffs. "Do you have any idea who I am? I'm Ronald Bitterhump, future owner of the most exclusive vampire resort in North America!"

"Actually, sir," the lead agent had replied while consulting her paperwork, "you're Ronald Bitterhump, three-time violator of the Vampire-Witch Coexistence Treaty, unlicensed resort developer, and unauthorized tanning bed user.

The Transylvanian Tribunal has a whole file cabinet dedicated to your violations. "

Those who witnessed the transport couldn't stop discussing the vampire's reaction to learning his fate. The once-feared Ronald, stripped of his toupee and with his spray tan streaking his silk shirt, had looked significantly less intimidating in the morning light.

"Did you see his face when they told him the Tribunal's Chief Justice is Count Federico, the vampire fashion critic he insulted at the 1989 Midnight Gala?" Dottie Darwin asked her sister Darlene, both giggling like schoolgirls. "Went paler than a vampire should!"

As for Tandy Keyes, she had been escorted to a separate transport---a modest carriage bound for the Salem Correctional Facility for Magical Offenses.

Unlike Ronald's dramatic protests, Tandy had approached her fate with surprising composure, pausing only to hand out business cards to the bemused transport officers.

"Tandy Keyes, Future Prison Real Estate Consultant," the cards read. "Specializing in Cell Upgrades and Incarceration Interior Design."

"I've identified a serious market gap," she'd explained enthusiastically to anyone who would listen.

"Prison cell aesthetics are tragically neglected!

With just a few simple modifications---accent pillows, coordinated wall hangings, strategic furniture placement---even the most dismal holding cell can become a 'desirable detention domicile'! "

Her last words before the transport left were, "If anyone's looking for reasonably priced properties in my absence, Robyn’s Realty in Assjacket has a fair commission structure---though obviously inferior to my own special rates!"

She'd spent the journey sketching designs for a vision board titled "Post-Incarceration Empire: The Comeback Tour" and drafting a prison newsletter column called "Sell Block Tips with Tandy.

" The Salem guards later reported that her first request upon arrival wasn't for a lawyer, but for better lighting "to properly showcase cell features during potential showings. "

The Magical Tribunal had scheduled her trial for the following month, though rumors suggested she was already attempting to broker deals with other prisoners, offering to "optimize their cell's feng shui for a small consulting fee."

The door to the pub swung open, and Honey and Maisie entered to a round of spontaneous applause. The sisters had spent the night at the falls, reinforcing the protection spells that had proven so effective against the vampire coven.

"There they are!" Murphy called proudly. "The sisters who helped save our town!"

Maisie blushed, looking surprised at the warm reception. Though still showing signs of her ordeal---she occasionally startled at sudden movements, but the overall difference in her demeanor was remarkable. She walked with more confidence, made eye contact, and when she smiled, it reached her eyes.

"Morning, heroes," Vlad greeted them cheerfully, tipping his hat. "Ready for a victory breakfast? Murphy's serving 'Vampire Vanquisher Pancakes' with extra garlic. Bit much for breakfast, if you ask me, but the town's in a celebratory mood."

"How are the containment spells holding up at the falls?" Roam asked as the sisters sat down.

"Strong," Honey confirmed. "Maisie's connection with the water is remarkable. She's reinforced the natural protections so effectively that vampires won't be able to approach the water for at least a century."

Maisie shrugged modestly. "The falls wanted to be protected. I just helped them express that intention."

"That's quite the talent," Vlad observed. "Water witches are rare, especially ones who can communicate with magical water sources."

"Speaking of talent," Roam said, "that was quick thinking with the falls water last night. I've never seen vampires move backward so fast."

Maisie smiled at the memory.

"The spray tan was never waterproof," Bartie explained from his perch on Maisie's shoulder. "That's why he was so paranoid about rain. One good shower and the whole illusion washes away."

Uma arrived with plates of pancakes, Allen following with a pitcher of syrup balanced impressively on his back.

"Eat up," Uma instructed. "Dad's adding 'Ronald's Ridiculous Resort Rejection' to our town celebration calendar. Annual festival with fake tans and bad wigs optional."

The table erupted in laughter, the tension of the previous days finally breaking. Even Maisie joined in, her laugh tentative but genuine.

"What will happen to Ronald now?" she asked after a moment, her expression betraying lingering concern.

"The Tribunal takes treaty violations very seriously," Vlad explained, pouring generous amounts of syrup on his pancakes.

"He'll face multiple charges: unauthorized territory claims, improper use of vampire abilities on humans, operating an unlicensed blood collection system, and---perhaps most seriously in vampire society---'bringing ridicule upon the dignity of the undead' with his fashion choices. "

"That's a real charge?" Honey asked, surprised.

"Oh yes," Vlad nodded solemnly. "Vampires are incredibly image conscious. Ronald's spray tan and over the top clothes have been a source of collective embarrassment for decades. The Tribunal has been looking for an excuse to rein him in."

The conversation was interrupted when Leahnora Loveridge entered the pub. The room quieted as she made her way to their table.

"Good morning," she greeted them formally. "I thought you should know that Tandy Keyes has been transported to the Salem Correctional Facility for Magical Offenses. Her trial will begin next month."

The patrons of the pub took the news in with a collective sigh. It was over.

Leahnora turned to Maisie. "I've been reviewing our town records. It seems we have an opening for a Water Management Specialist---someone to oversee the falls and our other magical water resources. Given your unique abilities, the position is yours if you want it."

Maisie's eyes widened in surprise. "Me? But I---I've only just arrived. And I don't even know if I'm staying..." She glanced uncertainly at Honey.

"Of course you're staying," Honey said firmly. "You belong here. With me."

"And me!" Bartie added indignantly. "I've filed all the proper familiar registration paperwork. We're officially bonded now, so wherever you go, I go." He puffed out his tiny chest proudly. "Besides, I've grown rather fond of this ridiculous town."

Maisie looked around the table---at her sister, at Bartie, at the new friends who had helped her rebuild her life---and something shifted in her expression. The last vestiges of uncertainty fell away, replaced by the quiet confidence of someone who had finally found her place.

"I'd be honored to accept the position," she told Leahnora. "The falls helped save me as much as I helped them. It seems fitting to return the favor."

"Excellent," Leahnora nodded approvingly. "You'll start next week. For now, enjoy the celebration. You've earned it."

As Leahnora departed, the conversation at the table turned to more practical matters.

"I'll need to find my own place," Maisie realized. "I can't keep sleeping on your couch forever."

"Actually," Honey began hesitantly, "I've been thinking about that.

FACTS & FIBS is too big for just me, especially with most of the familiar quarters empty since the last matching day.

There's the east wing that I never use---it could be your own apartment, with a separate entrance and everything. "

"You wouldn't mind?" Maisie asked, sounding both hopeful and uncertain. "I know I still have... issues." She gestured vaguely, encompassing the nightmares, the occasional panic attacks, the lingering trauma from her captivity.

"Of course I wouldn't mind," Honey assured her. "You're my sister. Besides, Leahnora recommended a wonderful magical trauma specialist in Assjacket. Having your own space while still being close by seems like the perfect arrangement."

"And I get my own bat house, correct?" Bartie interjected. "With proper ventilation and southern exposure? I refuse to hang in some dreary attic like a common household bat."

"Obviously," Honey laughed. "We'd need to meet your exacting standards."

As they finalized their plans over breakfast, Vlad checked his weathered pocket watch and sighed. "I should be heading out soon. Vampire hunters never rest for long."

"You're leaving?" Maisie asked, sounding disappointed.

"Got reports of unusual activity in Montana," Vlad explained. "Probably nothing, but worth checking out."

"Will you come back to visit?" Honey asked. "You're welcome anytime."

"Count on it," Vlad promised, tipping his hat. "I make a point of checking in on the towns I've helped. Besides, your annual 'Ronald's Ridiculous Resort Rejection' festival sounds too entertaining to miss."

He rose to leave, collecting his massive equipment bag from beside the booth. "Take care of yourselves. Especially you," he added to Maisie. "You've got real spirit, surviving what you did and still finding the strength to fight back. That's rare."

Maisie blushed at the compliment, but managed a smile. "Thank you. For everything."

As Vlad made his way toward the door, stopping to accept handshakes and back-slaps from grateful townspeople, Honey turned to her sister.

"How are you really doing?" she asked quietly. "With everything that's happened?"

Maisie considered the question seriously.

"I'm... healing," she said finally. "There are still memories I can't fully access, nightmares I can't shake.

I still flinch at sudden movements sometimes, and I don't think I'll ever enjoy fashion shows.

" Her attempt at humor was undercut by a shadow in her eyes, but she continued more firmly.

"But I'm finding parts of myself I thought were gone forever.

My connection to water. My ability to trust. My name. "

She touched the silver pendant around her neck, the one that had helped her find her way to Honey. "For so long, I was just 'the witch' to them. A tool. A test subject. Now I'm Maisie again. And I'm discovering what that means."

"You're also 'Bunny' to me," Honey reminded her gently, using the childhood nickname that had resurfaced in her recovered memories.

"Right," Maisie smiled. "Maisie to the world, Bunny to you. I can live with that."

Across the pub, Dr. Clive Wimpleton had cornered Bartie by the fireplace, interrogating the bat about behavioral patterns for his research. The bat was answering with theatrical sighs and exaggerated patience, occasionally glancing toward Maisie as if to say, "The things I endure for you."

"Your familiar is quite the character," Roam observed, following her gaze.

"He saved my life," Maisie said simply. "Not just by helping me escape, but by reminding me that not everything about Ronald's world was evil. Some were just trapped, like me. Bartie helped me remember that kindness exists even in the darkest places."

"Well, there's plenty of kindness in Cauldron Falls," Roam assured her. "And if anyone gives you trouble about your time with the vampires, they'll have the Chief Inspector to deal with." His protective tone made Honey beam at him appreciatively.

As the breakfast celebration continued around them, Maisie allowed herself to relax fully for perhaps the first time since her escape.

The nightmares would likely continue for some time.

The trauma of her captivity wouldn't vanish overnight.

But here, surrounded by her sister and new friends, with Bartie's reassuring presence nearby and a community that had accepted her despite everything, Maisie felt something she had almost forgotten hope.

The Blood Moon had risen and fallen, Ronald Bitterhump was facing vampire justice, and Cauldron Falls was safe. But most importantly, the lost sisters had found each other again, their bond stronger than any vampire's influence or memory-altering magic.

Outside, the morning sun shone on the magical town, its light reflecting off the falls that had played such a crucial role in defeating the vampires.

The water danced and sparkled, seeming almost to celebrate along with the townspeople.

And if one looked closely at the falls---as Maisie could now, with her awakened water witch abilities---they might notice that the water flowed with particular vigor today, as if pleased with its role in saving the town and helping a lost witch find her way home.

As for Ronald Bitterhump, rumors would later reach Cauldron Falls that the Transylvanian Tribunal had sentenced him to a century of community service---specifically, maintaining the Tribunal's extensive gardens during daylight hours, equipped with only the strongest sunscreen and a wide-brimmed hat. No spray tan allowed.