In the dark of night, Nevermore was a place made for shadows.
Of course, in the dark of night all places are made for shadows, more or less. That's what Enid had pointed out to Wednesday in the face of that poetic foray, one of her rare attempts to expand her skills as a writer beyond the boundaries of prose narrative. Wednesday tried to explain that the shadows in question were a metaphor for the secrets hidden in the human soul, but to Enid the explanation sounded a bit far-fetched.
Wednesday didn't touch poetry again, save for the occasional sonnet fantasizing about dismembering faculty members she considered particularly incompetent.
But metaphor or not, Nevermore was certainly a place that took on a distinct entity of its own after sunset. The darkness embraced the academy with a closeness that Addams found comforting. It was that intimacy of darkness with old places. The same familiarity she had found in her childhood in the rooms of Addams Manor.
The operation had proceeded without serious incident throughout the afternoon. Bianca, Ajax and Lenore had spread the word around the various Halls of the academy, getting the more numerous cliques to bring the rest of the students present up to speed. The low numbers during spring break were certainly an advantage to carry out everything without too many issues. That night all students present would be safe in their dorms, but prepared to leave in an orderly fashion if things went seriously awry.
Only a few unruly lycanthropes gave poor Lenore some trouble when she tried to make it clear to them that they could not leave their rooms that night. They backed off and became more obedient as they became aware of the five or six bees that flitted stealthily around the young she-wolf without her noticing.
Eugene had earned a reputation and was learning how to use it.
And so, the sunset soon came. And now, at approximately nine pm, the quad was totally deserted. Only two figures were in place, standing near the center by the fountain, waiting. Wednesday Addams to the left, Enid to her right.
Wednesday Addams was dressed in her black fencing suit. It was light, allowed flexibility of movement and offered a certain degree of protection. She had simply discarded the mask. She carried with her a sword, a family saber that she normally kept in her small, hidden arsenal in the room.
For her part, Enid Sinclair wore a simple tank top with blue, purple and magenta stripes. She had also opted for shorts that would have been more appropriate for the summer months, but combined with her choice to walk barefoot made it clear that the purpose was to avoid losing any more clothes in case she had to undergo another partial wolfing out.
She had no weapon with her, of course. She was the weapon.
Even with that, she was clearly the more visibly nervous of the two. Wednesday was totally immobile, it would have been easy to mistake her for a statue. Enid on the other hand was an accumulation of small movements, little jumps, etc. She seemed to be vibrating.
"Calm down," said Wednesday.
"I'm calm, I'm... Agh, who am I kidding," Enid growled, "This is the worst part."
"I presume you mean the waiting."
"Of course!" replied Enid, "It's like... hum... Like end-of-term tests!"
Wednesday did not respond verbally, but turned her head slightly, casting a questioning glance at the werewolf.
"I mean...," Enid continued, "You know that waiting period when you sit in front of a test? You have the paper in front of you but it's upside down and you can't see the questions until the teacher gives the signal to start. So you wait around helplessly for a few minutes and not knowing if the questions on the test are the ones you've studied for."
"You would expect that if you've studied properly any question on the exam is one you've studied for," Wednesday retorted. To anyone else her voice would have sounded like it always did, but Enid noticed a slight variation in her tone that denoted amusement.
"You know what I mean, Weds!" the she-wolf replied without being able to fight back the shadow of a smile, "It's that waiting where you know what's coming and you wish it would just happen already. It's not just now, I think I've had this in me all day..."
"If it's any consolation, I don't expect a particularly long confrontation right off the bat," Wednesday said, "At first she's going to do more talking than anything else."
"What?"
"If my intuition is right, we are going to face a terribly clichéd situation."
Enid put her palm to her forehead, "Oh, crap, she's going to spout a monologue, isn't she?”
"More than possible," replied Wednesday.
"Your vision...," Enid began, "I know it's just the two of us in it, but..."
"Mia lupa, if we've learned anything the last two years, it's that my visions of future events can be altered or lack fundamental details," replied Wednesday, "Following their usual pattern of negativity, the vision showed me you partially transformed and immobilized by an unseen force and me facing our opponent."
"Alone."
"But we're not really alone, are we?"
Enid nodded, glancing around. Even with her enhanced senses, her sight could barely penetrate the darkest corners of Nevermore's quad, where the young lycanthrope knew other figures lurked in wait for a previously agreed signal.
She knew that Wednesday had mapped out the positions with her counterparts. Friday, Pup and Shark were located somewhere on the lower level of the quad. Woe in an elevated position in the upper galleries overlooking the plaza.
And Needler...
Well, Enid wasn't sure. The mad scientist Addams had taken a last-minute detour to the kitchen. "In search of materials," she had said. Wednesday merely nodded, confident that her paler other self knew what she was doing. Enid opted to follow her lead.
And in spite of all that, her nerves would not go away. Nerves for herself but also for Wednesday, and for the rest of the girls. She knew her girlfriend was right that trying to keep them out of the way would have done no good, but Enid's instincts were constantly screaming at her to protect them, especially the younger ones. The wolf inside her had begun to see all the Wednesdays as part of her pack, and in a pack the pups had to be shielded from all harm and kept away from danger. No matter how capable they were on their own.
Enid let out another growl that turned into a frustrated whine.
The tension that had been building up in her muscles relaxed as soon as she noticed a hand resting gently on her left shoulder. Enid turned her head and her blue eyes met Wednesday's dark eyes gazing into hers. Even today it was rare that of the two of them it was Addams who initiated contact.
"I know what you are thinking, mio bellissimo sole," Wednesday said, with a softness in her voice reserved for Enid and Enid alone, "I know optimism may sound unnatural coming from me, but we will triumph in the face of the challenge ahead."
Enid rested a hand on the one Wednesday had placed on her shoulder, caressing and squeezing it gently, never taking her eyes off her paramour.
"Let's kick that witch's ass," Enid said.
Her smile turned wolfish. Her teeth suddenly sharpened as her eyes shone yellow. Wednesday watched with a fascination as intense as the first time as her girlfriend performed a partial wolfing out. The ears becoming pointed, the nose lengthening slightly as if it wanted to become a snout, the fine soft golden fur growing on her face, arms and legs covering her pale skin, the muscles and bones of her body growing...
"You are the most magnificent beast I have ever seen," Wednesday said, almost breathlessly.
"You say that all the time," said Enid.
"And I'll keep saying it until the end of my days," Wednesday replied, feeling a pleasant shiver run down her spine as she heard the deep, cavernous voice of a semi-transformed Enid.
She loved to hear that beastly voice whispering in her ear…
"Focus, dear," Enid replied with a chuckle, "You're releasing pheromones."
Wednesday knew she should focus, take her hand off Enid's shoulder and prepare for battle, but…
Her thoughts were cut off short. Enid's whole body tensed and Wednesday could feel it. A low but constant growl began to vibrate in the lycanthrope's throat.
"I can smell her," she said.
Wednesday pulled her hand away and tightened her grip on her sword. Now she too could notice the change in the mood. The atmosphere in the quad had become more charged, more oppressive. It was as if the anticipation had suddenly turned into something with mass trying to crush them both.
Wednesday heard footsteps.
The gate of Nevermore's quad that led to the Academy's outdoor courtyards and the access area to the forest and river opened. The same gate that two years earlier had almost been ripped from its hinges by Joseph Crackstone and his descendant and acolyte Laurel Gates in their attempt to burn the place down.
This time the gate opened slowly, almost silently. Cut out by the moonlight, a figure was visible standing on the threshold. The newcomer made an attempt to enter but stopped when she became aware of the presence of Wednesday and Enid. The surprise could be felt emanating from her.
After a moment of tension, the intruder seemed to make up her mind and walked inside the quad.
Wednesday and Enid could see her more clearly. She was not dressed like a stereotypical witch, nor did she make use of robes or a cape. She was wearing dark pants, a gray sweater and brown boots. She was covered by a long hooded coat of a deep green color that still kept her face in the shadows. Hanging from her shoulder was a worn brown satchel from which a huge book was sticking out. No doubt the stolen interdimensional spell manual. There was no visible trace of a wand.
The intruder tilted her head, observing Enid and Wednesday, "Well, I wasn't expecting a welcoming committee, but you've saved me from having to sneak into your room," she said, "It will make it easier to get this over with."
A sound equal parts scream, roar and howl escaped Enid Sinclair's throat as she threw herself at the witch. They were about fifty feet apart, a distance the she-wolf could cover in seconds.
But those mere seconds were enough for the intruder.
The witch raised her left hand, palm open, and suddenly Enid Sinclair flew into the air disoriented and feeling unable to move her limbs, only to find herself suddenly thrown against one of the stone columns of the galleries surrounding the quad's central courtyard, striking it with her back. She could not prevent a pained groan from escaping her mouth with the impact.
Telekinesis, Wednesday thought as she watched her girlfriend, one of Nevermore's most formidable creatures, being tossed like a rag doll and held pinned several feet up against Nevermore's stone. Wielding her sword, Wednesday prepared to advance, but was stopped in her tracks when with a flash of light a wand materialized in her opponent's right hand. Its tip glowed reddish and crackled with barely contained magic.
"Hold it right there Addams!" the intruder barked, pointing the wand at Wednesday as one would aim a loaded gun.
Fighting her frustration and knowing what she had to do, Wednesday complied.
Make her talk, she told herself, Prove you were right and that she would love to hear her own voice, whether to boast or to justify herself. Make her tell you everything.
"A wand," said Wednesday, "How lovely. A little old-fashioned perhaps. If your intention was to resort to classic power foci a staff would have been much more formidable."
The witch let out a laugh that seemed to have a certain hysterical edge to it, "Well, one of these is more versatile and easier to use for those of us who weren't born innate magic users."
Wednesday noted that new tidbit of information in her mind as she made a feint to move to the side, but the witch never took her eyes off her nor did she stop pointing her wand at her. Her left hand was still extended in the air, keeping Enid immobilized. From her position, the lycanthrope could only watch silently, frustrated and snarling.
"As I said, I didn't anticipate running into you like this," the witch said, "It's obvious you were expecting me. I had heard of your reputation as a detective, but you must be more formidable than I expected."
Wednesday frowned, hoping her gesture of somewhat genuine irritation looked natural and not exaggerated for the sake of trying to keep her opponent talking.
"Not really," she replied, letting the frustration in her voice show, "I'm aware that you've done something with that book that has led to the situation of the last two days, but I don't have any exact information regarding who you are and your motives."
"And you would like to know, wouldn't you?" the witch asked. Her voice sounded unusually soft this time, as if resigned, but also with a tone of smug satisfaction.
She jerked her head back in one swift motion, causing her hood to fall and exposing her face.
She was a young woman, in her twenties, perhaps already bordering on her early thirties. Her hair, tousled and disheveled, was as dark brown as her eyes under her glasses. She had a face that in other circumstances would have been of soft, delicate features but which looked cadaverous, as if she were suffering from malnutrition and had not slept for some time. Her skin was pale and glistened with a layer of sweat that pearled her forehead. She had dark circles under her eyes.
And her smile... her smile was that of someone who may not have been swept away by madness yet but was extremely close to it. She smiled at Wednesday as if they were friends, though Addams could see the fire of irrational hatred in those brown eyes.
The smile disappeared, leaving a now serene and almost emotionless face looking at Wednesday with the finality of someone who has come to the end of their road.
"My name," she said, "Is Isadora Laslow."
The reddish glow at the end of the wand intensified, turning to a bluish color. A smell of ozone flooded the air.
"And my baby cousin is dead because of you."
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