A Witch's Guide to Business

Vampires and Zombies

The book is a translation of my French novel “Sorcières Associées”(2017), featuring Tanit and Padma, two witches with diametrally opposed background and temper, but who have to run a magic consultancy together.

Most fantasy novels have witches working in some paranormal investigative agency or as bounty hunters. But in real-life, most witches ran, well, a witchcraft business: foretelling future, appeasing spirits, expelling demons, hexing and unhexing people, animals, objects, and plants. Occasionally, they even dabbled in healing! So, my witches are real witches, doing standard witchcraft, and when they have to chase criminals, they are out of their depth. But they soon discover that in the city of Barramar, criminals are also dabbling in magic. That’s progress for you.

I took for inspiration many buddy movies, especially “Lethal Weapon,” as well as “Wild, Wild West” and “Laurel and Hardy”. At the time, we were at the height of the vampire/zombie crase, so I decided to take a personal twist on those two themes.

I will release 2 chapters/month for readers on a paid subscription. So here we go:

1- Vampires and Zombies

Tanit

"Awake, my beautiful? How about an encore?"

The hand moved up my side to brush against my left breast. My gaze shifted to the clock. Ten. My first appointment was at one. I had enough time for a full breakfast with eggs, toast, and newspapers, or for a delightful romp with that guy I had fleeced at the casino yesterday. Hopeless at poker, but an expert in bed. His fingers left my breast and trailed down into the hollow of my lower belly. Forget breakfast.

After he left, I lingered in front of my mirror. I can't help it — I love flashy clothes. Padma, my partner, always wears discreet saris and insists on presenting an image of seriousness that inspires trust. Why does a witch have to look serious? We're not lawyers! We’ve been eccentrics since the dawn of magic! Our life is tough, might as well enjoy the fringe benefits of it. I hung two emeralds on my ears and tied my auburn hair on the top of my head. I opted for a mixed northern outfit with a low-cut shirt, a red silk skirt, and a black corset hugging my waist.

Twenty minutes later, I got off the steam rickshaw at the beginning of Windway. At this hour, the traffic was such that it was easier to finish the journey on foot. Self-pulled carriages, velocipedes, motorcycles, handcarts, and ox-drawn wagons fought for every inch of the grand avenue. I could have used my teleportation spell, but any wizard will tell you not to abuse Power. I picked up an apple and bit into it while making my way through the crowd. Nadinites in sarongs, Ilharans in shalwar kameez, Stesians in tunics, Parassis in saree, not to mention a few northerners whose bustle skirts took up the space of two people. I spotted a pretty shawl in a shop window and mentally noted to check it later.

Monsoon was in full swing, and the wet heat was at its peak. Rain-laden clouds threatened to break at any moment above my head. Some people hate this city. I fell for it from day one. Barramar had managed to remain a free port for over two millennia. Few rules, no ideology, no religion, no taboo. Its first law is the law of money. Everyone has something to sell or buy within its walls. It changes all the time, constantly reinventing itself, but deep down, it always remains the same: the legendary City By the Sea. Northerners rub shoulders with Meralese, Ilharans bicker with Erites, and you can even see Nadinites fraternizing with Parassis. Padma and I had opened our practice seven years ago, and business was booming.

Power or magic, the elusive energy, had disappeared over four hundred years ago. For the past forty years, it had returned, bringing back creatures that had vanished to the point of becoming mere legends. Now, krakens and leviathans dwelled in the depths of the seas. Gremlins and goblins nested in cemeteries. Elves and sylphs frolicked in the forests, and many more.

These upheavals brought lucrative opportunities for those willing to take risks. Sorcery had always been a fascinating, profitable, and dangerous job. My kind of job, in short. Technically, I was fortunate or unfortunate enough to be more than a simple witch: I had the gift. I could sense Power, and I could even manipulate it... sometimes.

The construction frenzy that had seized Barramar for the past two years, demolishing both shacks and palaces, ancient temples and cemeteries, awakening spirits, ghouls, and demons, had been a real windfall. However, competition was on the rise: Nadinite, Parassi, and even Yartegian wizards were flocking in, attracted by the money and lack of regulation.

I reach Octopus House just before one o'clock and took the elevator, an elegant cage of iron and bronze. Its gears clicked, echoing in the vast hall. They needed oiling. The maintenance company was going to get an earful again. I passed the large door with a copper plate that read: Amrithar and Murali, Associated Witches. Supernatural Advice, Thaumaturgy, Exorcisms. With my key, I opened the nearby smaller door, leading to a narrow corridor. It allowed me to reach my office without crossing the waiting room.

The pulsating wave hit me the moment my fingers grazed the handle. In a city where you could occasionally cross a mermaid in a department store, it wasn't odd, but this was something far more sinister. The stone on my left ring finger burned black against my skin. The creature had been identified. Adrenaline surged through my veins. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I wished Padma were here; she has a way with supernatural beasts, but she was across the city performing an exorcism.

Our intern, Onezimus, waited uneasily in my office. "Good morning. What's going on?" I asked.

"Cassandra says there's a strange gentleman here to see you." His voice quivered.

"Strange how?"

"He gives her the chills."

"And you?"

“Er…”

Onezimus was a blond, chubby Northerner. Like all men from those lands, he was not used to being around women at all. Working with three of them made him lose his composure. We hoped he would get used to it, but it was taking time.

“You're a future sorcerer, my friend. You must have an opinion.”

“Well... he gives me the chills, too. He must be wearing a powerful talisman.”

“Have you ever seen a vampire, Onezimus?”

He became even paler than he already was.

“What?”

“Observe him closely. It's a rare opportunity.”

“He'll devour us!"

"If that were his plan, he would have already done it. Since he made an appointment like a normal client, I shall see him."

I walked towards the door that led to the waiting room and opened a slit concealed in moulding. I peered into the waiting room. There sat a gaunt, pallid Northerner in a linen suit and Panama hat. The dark, pulsating wave radiated from him. What was one of his kind doing here interacting so... normally? They crossed into our dimension only by accident. Legends mentioned a few Yartegian mages capable of summoning them and holding them in their thrall. The process was so secret that no one to this day had found it. And vampires needed a very fresh corpse as a vessel...

I opened the gun cabinet and handed Onezimus the Peterson 112 shotgun. He went to stand behind the door I came in. I checked my own hidden blunderbuss, which could be activated by a knee press under the desk, and my revolver in the drawer. Bullets wouldn't stop this monster, but they might slow him down.

I steeled myself and opened the door to the waiting room. Cassandra called out hesitantly, "Mr. Watson?" I forced my most pleasant smile. The creature rose and glided into my office without a word, the pulse of Power rippling from him.

As he sank into the client’s chair, I settled behind my desk without taking my eyes off him. Few humans had reflexes to rival a vampire, and I boasted of being one of them.

"Well, what can I do for you, sir?" I inquired.

"You know who I am."

"That doesn't change my question,"

He eyed me suspiciously. Believe me or not, all magical creatures are wary of humans. Even bloodsuckers. Especially them.

Finally, he uttered, "One of your kind had trapped me. He pulled me into your dimension... He holds me in his power and has forced me to kill a man."

Surprise caught my breath. Who could have rediscovered this process? For what purpose? In ancient times, these creatures were used to guard an object, a temple, a tomb, not to bleed mortals all over the city. People knew how to behave back then! "Who caught you?"

"I don't know. Everything about him is blurred. Even his voice seemed to reach me as if echoed by a long reverberation."

"Not surprising if he has bespelled you... Do you know how he did it?"

"No, or I wouldn't be here!"

I had the distinct impression that my visitor was running out of patience, a sign of hunger in his kind.

"Please remain calm. I need to know certain details. Unfortunately, my brain doesn't work at the same speed as yours."

He frowned, wondering if it was just a statement, flattery, or irony. I went on. "The man you killed, what did he look like?"

He made a gesture of annoyance. "Well, like a human! I was as if in a dream..."

For most demons, vampires, and other faes, all humans look the same. Barely can they distinguish adults from children and males from females.

"Did he have hair, or was he bald?" I probed.

After about ten questions and answers, I established his victim was middle-aged, dark-skinned, of small stature, with glasses. He seemed to have caught him three or four days ago around the Laguna district, near the Little Canal.

"How come your captor lets you roam freely?"

"He doesn't care what I do when he doesn't need me, I suppose. And I'm hungry."

I forced myself not to jump to my feet. "Very well. I will find this man. In the meantime, go to 12 Salamander Street. It's a small refuge for magical creatures, run by Dr. Gamal, a friend. He will provide you with blood... in limited quantity. He buys expired stocks from the hospital. You won't feed on any human in this city... or anywhere else in this dimension. It's part of the terms of our contract."

He scowled.

"If you want my help to return to your world, you'll do as I say."

The vampire stared at me, eyes blazing. I've had the barrel of a gun pointed at me on various occasions. It was much less impressive.

"Fine," he finally growled. "And for payment?"

"The usual fee,"

He stood up and left without a word. I waited to see him walk out of the building from my window and let out a deep sigh. Onezimus came in.

"By the Gods, he’ll devour half of the city!"

"Most magic creatures respect their word. Not like us... Back to work! You'll sift through the newspapers from the last five days and see if men matching his description have disappeared or been found slaughtered near the Little Canal."

The rest of the afternoon went without incident. I had a request to get rid of a mischievous spirit, an order for a protective talisman... I was scribbling the specifications in the book when screams, jeers, and whistles came from outside. I turned towards the window and parted the blinds.

Below, on the Windway, the police had managed the feat of clearing the traffic. A silent parade was marching up the avenue. The newspapers had been talking about it for weeks. Zombies. They had been unloaded from two ships from Nadinh this morning. Now, they were crossing the entire city on their way to the factory.

They still wore the remnants of their uniforms, and some displayed gaping wounds caked with old blood. Others were missing part of their heads. They didn't need them. I clenched my teeth. Most of them must have been very young at the time of their death.

Prototypes of zombies had first been created by the military sorcery research unit in Nadinh. Years later, at the beginning of the Third Strait War, between Nadinh and Paras, they developed a semi-industrial zombification process using tiny amounts of black lotus juice. The country was short of soldiers, and they hoped to reuse those they had lost.