Almost a dozen years ago, five-year-old Mackenzie Nichols sat in her grandfather’s kitchen as he organized a series of coins in front of her. They were from all over the world and some, he claimed, were older than he was. She casually poked and flipped them as he cracked his knuckles and stretched his wrists.

Freddie Nichols was in his eighties, at least eighty-three. He like his son was lanky, with long fingers and worn, wrinkled hands. The difference was he was exceptionally tall, making him seem even skinnier. His mouth and brilliant grey eyes were surrounded with smile lines. His hair was thick, but pure white at the roots and silver as it went back. He had it combed into an older professional style Mackenzie never bothered to learn the name of.

He was wearing a button downed stripped shirt and matching vest. It was open allowing her to see a stain from his morning coffee and a burn from a cigarette. His pocket watch was in his vest pocket, and the necklace he wore with his and Grandmother Nichols’ wedding rings was visible.

Mackenzie could also just barely see the tattoo at the base of his neck under his collar.

“Now watch,” he said as he took one and placed it in his palm. “How do I hide it?” he asked.

Mackenzie thought for a second and then took it. She placed it between her middle and ring fingers and showed him her palm.

“Good, but how do you do it with your hand fully open?” he asked as he took the coin from her. He held it in his palm. He then skipped it up and wrapped his fingers around it. With a flick of his wrist, he showed her his now empty hand, his fingers splayed.

“Wait! Wait! No, your sleeve!” she said.

“Bad guess,” Frederick countered. He smiled and opened his mouth showing the coin was sitting on his tongue.

“No fair! You used a trick you haven’t taught me yet!” Mackenzie argued, turning from him and huffing.

“Well,” he said as he took the coin back, “That’s because you can’t see what I can, Mackenzie.”

She rolled her eyes, “Magic stuff?”

“That’s right,” he held out his palm again. Mackenzie stared at it and watched. The pale calloused skin began to darken, shift, and swirl until there was a shape there. “Look,” he took another coin and held it over the shape.

His fingers released it and it fell right through as if the shape was a hole. She heard a clink from his mouth, and he opened it, letting the new coin fall. From the mark she watched light come before Frederick closed his mouth again.

“That’s gross,” she said.

“It’s magic, Mackenzie.”

“It’s gross magic. And it doesn’t matter how much you show me. It’s not like I’ll ever be able to use magic. You said, right?” she asked pouting again.

“That’s right, God’s grace you won’t,” he said looking forlornly at his palm. The mark faded and he sighed before coughing into his hand. Mackenzie started and went to his sink to get some water.

He smiled and drank it quickly, patting her shoulder, “Hey. Don’t worry Mack. I’ve got some years left. I know, Mr. Salazar promised he’d get in those franks I like this week. Let’s see if they’re on the spit. Grab my hat and cane.”

“Yes papa! Can I get an icee?” she asked grabbing the bowler from the rack by his back door and handing him the old wooden cane.

“Sure kid, but don’t tell your mom. You also gotta brush before she comes to get you,” he said winking at her.

“Alright papa!” Mackenzie said happily as she took his left hand with her right. Frederick frowned and switched their sides before smiling again. “Papa,” she said as they made their way toward the bodega.

“Yes?”

“If I ever do get magic. Or learn some for real,” she said, swinging his arm as they walked, “What should I do with it?”

Frederick was silent for a moment and rapped his fingers against his bowler, “If you learn real magic, Mack. You can do anything. But if you want to know what I’d like you to do, well. Just,” he sighed and squeezed his cane’s head, “do your best to help people, Mack. Magic can do so much good. But don’t forget to take care of yourself. But let’s not worry about anything like that, okay?”

“Okay, Papa. I was just asking,” Mackenzie said as she let go of his hand and began to skip in an imaginary hopscotch pattern.

Frederick followed, putting more weight on his cane than he wished, “No magic for you. Not even from my ghost,” he said softly. “Wait up, Mack! Old man’s knees on your tail.”

<><><>

“…in the middle of this fucked up situation!” Martin continued to mumble as he and Mackenzie dashed around the edge of Powell and Sons’ parking lot to its left wing. “You ever ask yourself how you be trying to just live day by day and you end up on the losing side of a fucking monster fight? This is bullshit!”

“Run those feet, boy, or is the swagger getting in the way?” Mackenzie said absently as she kept looking at the clash between Macaroon and Silver Tongue.

She watched as Macaroon would form small walls of energy to block the creature’s attacks, but did not keep one up for long. Whenever it endured a barrage from the river of blades in Silver’s mouth or the concrete busting punches it threw, the field all but vanished.

“Can he not keep one up for long? Or is he weak? Would he be fine if Papa was alive?” Mackenzie asked herself. She slowed to a stop while thinking.

“Woman!” Martin screamed grabbing her arm and pulling her the rest of the way to the phone. “Salvation!” he cried as he pulled the handset for one and put it to his face. He pressed the coin to the slot and frowned. “What the fuck.”

“Call any number, Martin,” Mackenzie reminded him.

“Yeah, I know. The coin,” he said as he pushed it again. He grunted when he saw the coin was too large for the slot. “It’s not gonna fit,” he said.

“Try another phone then! Maybe one is special?” She asked as she kept looking around the corner.

“Keep your god damn head down! That thing spits tornados. Of. Knives!” Martin hissed as he tried the second phone. Too big again. “Jesus I am so sorry I made all those jokes about my dick. Sylvia always said you’d get me back for bragging. If this next one works, I’ll be the humblest brother on the block. I swear to you, to the holy ghost, to god!” He pressed his hands together and shook them. “Please, please, please,” he cried as he went to the third.

He measured the slot with his fingers then the coin. He crouched down to check it.

“Martin! Call somebody!” Mackenzie screamed at him.

“This is a delicate operation back here!” he screamed back as he took the handset and pushed the coin in. with a pleasant clicking noise it popped in. “Fuck yeah!” Martin hollered, “Mackenzie! The third one-”

Macaroon’s body slammed into the side of the building by Mackenzie. His back tore through the plaster and brick showering her in debris. Silver Tongue threw himself after Macaroon and bowled into the shattered corner. Martin barely had time to turn and scramble away, slipping to all fours, before the hulk of demonic flesh rolled over the phones.

“No!” Martin whimpered, scooting on his butt away from the shattered machines.

Mackenzie groaned as she tried to move. Macaroon made small noises of pain as he rolled off of her and dug through the debris for her. Mackenzie grabbed her head and cried out before pulling it away.

“No!” Macaroon hissed as he saw a scrape pouring blood. He hunted awkwardly for his syringe pouch and felt it wet on the outside. His face fell as he opened it and saw the syringes had been shattered by the impact. “Mackenzie!” he said grabbing her shoulder.

Silver Tongue sniffed deeply.

“Mackenzie!” Macaroon said using her chin to look at him. “Get Martin. His bike is busted, but in one piece. Run away. Run away as far as you can.”

“Martin got the call,” Mackenzie slurred, her eyes spinning.

“The phones are busted, Mackenzie. Run!” he shook her and Mackenzie fell to her knees. “Fuck!” Macaroon said as he looked around. His eyes focused on the broken building. The room opened was their corpse storage. His nostrils flared as he caught the smell of Frederick’s cologne.

“Martin!” he called. The young man turned, horrified as Silver Tongue began to twist and correct its body to stand. “Take this! The third cooler from the top. Cut off a limb and throw it to me!” Macaroon threw a butterfly knife as long as Martin’s hand and it landed hard by his foot.

“Cooler? Take one of-” Martin picked it up and realization washed over his face. He licked his lips and shook his head. “Man. I can’t. Old Man Nichols was a good guy he don’t deserve-”

“Do you want Mackenzie to die?! Do you want to die?!” Macaroon roared. “You carve up that old bastard’s corpse and throw me whatever piece you can! His left hand is the best!”

“Don’t you even take a step toward him, Martin!” Mackenzie panted trying to crawl. Macaroon settled her and forced to lay down. Her eyes were still swimming, but she had regained some composure.

“Do as I say Martin and you may survive! Mackenzie,” Macaroon said crouching down by her, “Stay alive, and forget about tonight.” He nuzzled her hair for a moment before racing to meet Silver Tongue again.

“Two witches!” it barked as it stood up fully, thick oily drool slithering from both its mouths.

“None for you, freak!” Macaroon answered as he drew the big revolver and fired.

Martin raced into the funeral home and looked quickly around the room. He found the coolers and began to read the names of the cards place on each. He cursed when he saw that none of them had names. He scanned the room and saw a door marked filed. Racing through it he tried to find the office or most recent ones.

Mackenzie coughed and reached for him. She tried to tell him to stop but rolled on to her back. Something far away told her to keep her eyes open, she most likely had a concussion.

someone to her left said softly.

“What?” Mackenzie asked, she tried to turn her head, but the person used a finger to keep her looking up.

they explained. Their voice was cool, calming. Mackenzie couldn’t tell if it was a man’s or a woman’s.

“No,” Mackenzie whimpered, tears forming at her eyes. “Macaroon shouldn’t die for me.”

Mackenzie craned her neck and looked up. Laying on its side, buried in shards of wood and a pile of bricks, was the phone. It was still intact. The handset was barely a dozen feet from her. She snarled and rolled over. Her body, covered in scrapes and scratches, begged her to stop. As she pulled herself toward the phone she rolled over a brick. Her ribs sent bolts of pain up her spine.

“Macaroon lost a leg fighting that thing,” she argued.

“Shut up!” Mackenzie huffed as she put a hand to her side and drug herself over a shard of asphalt. She winced as a corner caught her thigh. “That phone is using magic right? Real magic?” she could feel the presence nod, or close to it, “Then I’m going to use it to help Macaroon.”

She reached and grabbed the handset. The cable was metal lined and still connected. With a snarl of effort, she wrapped it around her hand, then he elbow and used it to pull herself to the box. She untangled her arm and held the handset to her face.

There was a dial tone. With a grunt she hit the five button.

The phone rang.

“Please,” she whispered as she heard Martin scream ‘Found him!’. “Please!” she said with more urgency as it rang again. Silver Tongue howled and Macaroon cursed somewhere behind her. She felt the tremors of their fight. “Please!” she screeched into the phone.

“Hello Mackenzie Nichols,” a voice like five people speaking at once answered.

“Macaroon needs help!” she cried, “A two-star Urshan wants to eat my papa’s body!”

“Macaroon is an experienced,” the voice became one.

“And powerful,” a second said, from her other ear.

“Familiar. But a familiar is only as capable as their witch. A dead witch, well. He’d fight better with an anchor,” the first voice explained.

“Then get him one! Get him another witch! He may be a familiar but he’s my cat now! I’m not gonna watch him die the same day I lost my papa!” she yelled back.

“The contract is bound to the brand of the witch,” a third voice explained.

Mackenzie remembered her grandfather’s hand.

“The brand is bound to the vessel of the witch,” a fourth mentioned.

She looked at the funeral home and then the smokestacks for their furnace.

“You don’t have time to burn his body fully, completely, properly,” the fifth reasoned.

Mackenzie squeezed the handset, “What can I do?” she asked.

The voices were silent. The together, “You can take the contract. But to do so, you need to be a witch. Frederick Nichols gave up much to shield his family from witches and monsters.”

She shook, “But something bad will happen if this thing gets his body, right? What if something worse comes after it?”

“The rituals he cast are absolute. Iron clad,” four of the five voices said.

“Well,” one said. There is a loophole. We are willing to use it.”

“What’s the catch?” she asked, her voice hardening.

“If you take this taste of magic. You will be abandoning your grandfather’s wishes for you. His hopes for you. But. He was a dear friend. A strong comrade. It would be right for you to follow in his footsteps.”

“What,” she snarled as she heard Martin grunt, pulling a cooler open, “Is the catch.”

“This is a taste.”

“A limited trial run.”

“Once the sun rises, you will be a normal human again.”

“Like Freddie wished.”

“That it?” Mackenzie asked, she felt her right hand burn.

“For now. You will then have to choose. Human. Or Witch. Understand this, Mackenzie Nichols. We only do this because we know what you will choose. Do your best, Mack.”

The phone clicked. Mackenzie stood and looked at her palm. In the center was a circle surrounded by four slash marks. The coloration was a deep muddy red. She clenched her fist and ran into the funeral home. Martin was standing over Frederick’s body fiddling with the massive knife trying to open it.

When he saw Mackenzie he yelped and dropped it, “Mackenzie! I was just doing as-”

She ignored him and walked to the drawer. Frederick was covered by an opaque plastic sheet. She swallowed and pulled it to his chest. Despite the sounds of violence outside both Martin and Mackenzie felt still. Frederick had always been an active man, bouncing his leg, smiling, moving.

Staring at him like this felt even more unnatural than the monsters outside.

Martin sniffed and shook his head he covered his eyes with his hand, “I’m, sorry Mackenzie. I can’t. He. Didn’t. It didn’t hit me until right now. Man.”

“It’s okay, Martin,” she said with a smile.

Mackenzie bent down and kissed her grandfather’s forehead. She then pulled his left hand free. The sheet went lower, and she saw a series of star tattoos on his chest, across his collarbone. She counted five. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her right hand around his left. She felt warmth from his palm.

“Frederick Nichols. I demand Macaroon’s contract,” she said and focused her mind and spirit on their brands.

The body seemed to glow for a moment and then Freddie’s mouth popped open. A tiny glowing cat shape popped out and hovered in front of Mackenzie’s face.

“Oh fuck do you have to-” Martin began before it sped between her lips.

<><><>

Silver Tongue laughed as the ruined half of its face regenerated. It held Macaroon to the ground with one hand and crushed a bundle of his weapons with the other. He discarded the broken pieces as dismissively as it could imagine.

“Heh. Heh, hah!” he laughed, showering Macaroon’s face with spittle, “No more magic! No more weapons. I break your limbs. Make you watch!”

“I could be just a head and take you down, ugly,” Macaroon said spitting in its eye.

Silver Tongue roared and roughly pulled Macaroon up, “No more healy juice! I saw! First your stupid paws!” it delicately, more delicately than Macaroon imagined was possible, pinched his left arm and pulled it up, and then out.

Macaroon hissed as he felt the joint begin to pop, “Fuck you!” Macaroon screamed. He was engulfed in a puff of smoke and returned to his normal cat form.

Silver Tongue and Macaroon stared as the cat fell to the ground. They exchanged looks. Macaroon patted his body and grabbed his collar. Along the inside were blanks dashes. He dashed from under Silver Tongue as the monster tried to stomp on him.

“Shrinking does nothing! Weak!” the creature bellowed as it hopped and jumped trying to crush Macaroon.

“You’re half right, ugly,” Macaroon got to the edge of the funeral home and stood on his hind paws again. “Forgive me Freddie,” he thought as he put his forepaws together. “Welcome to my jungle, Urshan scum.”

From Macaroon’s back a bubble of black and white energy grew. It encompassed half the funeral home and the surrounding parking lot. Silver Tongue snarled and whipped its body back and forth. Immediately it screamed and grabbed its head. The regeneration had halted, and the flesh was smoking.

“Don’t like being in someone else’s territory, do you?” Macaroon laughed.

“Weak cat thing! I’ll kill you and your barrier!” howling Silver Tongue raced forward on all fours, opening its mouth as wide as it could, scooping dirt and debris like an earth mover.

“Stay away from my cat!” Mackenzie screamed as she threw Macaroon’s knife.

It unfolded midflight and buried itself in the side of Silver Tongue’s muzzle. The creature yelped in pain and fell to its side skidding to a stop a dozen or more feet from Macaroon. Mackenzie spat and entered the barrier fully, standing between Macaroon and Silver Tongue. As she did, she took a deep breath and exhaled a snarl. The blood from her head wound flaked away and the damage to her clothes began to mend.

“Mackenzie!” Macaroon yelled, “This barrier will heal minor wounds, but if he casts a spell or gets his blood on you that will stick. You’re faster and stronger in here. But to put him down you need to cast spells!”

She grabbed a brick and juggled it in her palm as Silver Tongue stood, growling, “How. How do I do that?”

Macaroon opened his mouth, and a string flew from it, wrapping around Mackenzie’s ear and forming a bud, “We can communicate with this. Just think it and I’ll hear it. He may be stupid, but he’s still growing.” He turned to Martin, “Get out of the barrier! The Urshan can’t leave without sacrificing a portion of its body! You’ll be safe outside.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Martin sighed as he ran at full speed. He popped through the barrier and landed on the outside. He fell to his knees and hollered with joy. Looking back, he swallowed and hopped on the balls of his feet. “Shit,” he said as he realized he couldn’t see through the barrier. “It’s like an oil puddle. Fuck. I left Mackenzie alone in there. Oh fuck. Mrs. Nichols is gonna kill me.”

“Martin is safe,” Macaroon told Mackenzie. “The Urshan will definitely go after you first. You’re a witch, and eating you alive will massively boost its power.”

Mackenzie grabbed a second brick in her free hand and fell into a boxing stance. She threw a few quick jabs and a kick, “Got it. So. Magic what do I-”

Silver Tongue charged. Mackenzie squatted and threw herself to the left. She cried out in surprise as she cleared the almost twenty feet between herself and the remains of the funeral home. She crashed into the side and landed in a heap.

“Shit! Ow! Wait, that didn’t hurt,” she said checking herself.

“Mackenzie!” Macaroon yelled.

She leapt again, this time straight up. She cleared the full height of Silver Tongue and landed on his back. Quickly running down it’s backside, she moved so fast she had to do a full turn to slow herself.

“You said I’d be faster not a goddamn ninja!” she exclaimed.

“My barrier, called Concrete Jungle, enhances the physical abilities of my partner,” Macaroon explained, “The boost is dependent on if you’re predator or prey. Right now, your opponent has more stars, so you’re prey. That means your stamina and speed have been increased. Use the boost to dodge him and wear him down.”

“I only have until sunrise to use magic,” Mackenzie, “So please! How do I use spells!”

“Sorry! Shit a timer,” Macaroon checked the horizon. He had no idea what time it was, but their fight had been going on for at least half an hour and he didn’t arrive until well after three, “Magic is bending and breaking the rules of reality.”

Mackenzie dodged another charge. She barely avoided Silver Tongue grabbing her. She watched as the creature’s arm expanded and slowly grew.

“He’s gaining more control over his new body!” Macaroon thought, “Basically you can do ANYTHING you can think of. But if you break a rule of reality, it causes backlash on the spell caster. You limit the backlash by branding items, that makes it a fetch! Fetches are sacrificed in place of the witch.”

Mackenzie looked at her palm. She grabbed a brick while avoiding a wild swing from Silver Tongue. She clapped her right hand against it and seared her brand into it. Grinning she turned and took up a pitcher’s stance. With a long wind up she threw the brick.

It slowly petered through the air causing Silver Tongue to laugh. There was a pop and the brick exploded forward punching into its right shoulder. The brick cratered its body and blew its entire arm off. Silver tongue gasped and stupidly swatted its shattered body.

“Yes! Just like that!” Macaroon said jumping, but maintaining his paws. “A few more should do it!” he cheered. Mackenzie coughed and fell to her knees. She retched before blood poured from her mouth. “What?! Oh no! Mackenzie has no stars! Her limit for backlash is lower than even mine,” he thought. He started to move toward her, “Mackenzie!”

She held up her hand, “My bad. I think I got it figured out now. I thought of a cannon shot. Should have kept it to a simple pitch,” she said weakly as she stood up. She held her stomach with her left hand and grabbed another brick. Bouncing it in her hand she gripped it and her hand flashed.

Silver Tongue gasped and immediately began skittering side to side. He flipped so his mouth faced the ground and hundreds of bladed legs popped from between his teeth. He used them to move erratically around stirring up dust and fragments of building.

Mackenzie grimaced but straightened. She could barely hear anything with the ringing in her ears. Her eyes were fuzzy, and the smoke screen was not helping. She took a breath and put her thumb to her nose, snorting out some bloody mucus.

Her eyes widened and she leapt up again throwing the brick.

It caught Silver Tongue in the head, and it growled. “How?!” it spat as it threw a sloppy punch. Mackenzie kicked off of his wrist and flipped back to the ground, barely catching herself.

“You smell like dead animals, you dumb fuck!” Mackenzie grabbed another brick. Her hand flashed.

Silver Tongue charged, moving its legs like pistons. She dodged toward its left arm. Silver Tongue cackled as it tried to bring an elbow hammer down on her. Switching the brick to her left hand, Mackenzie held up her right hand.

Macaroon’s eyes widened, “Mackenzie! No! Don’t brand him!”

A massive copy of Mackenzie’s brand appeared on Silver Tongue’s elbow, encompassing the majority of its forearm. She skipped away from it and held the brick tightly in her hands. Silver Tongue looked from its elbow to her and began to laugh.

“Heh. Hehe! Stupid baby witch! Brand makes me immune to your magic!” he cheered jumping back to his normal legs. He grabbed a bundle of debris and crunched it into a ball. “Now I throw-”

“Immune to me, right. I’ll remember that,” Mackenzie said as she suddenly turned and reared back a throw. “Fly! To the ends of the earth!”

With a full-bodied overhand throw Mackenzie hurled the brick. It sped over Macaroon’s head and through his barrier. Martin cried out as it zipped past him and toward the hill, riding the curve up and along the road to the horizon.

“Uh. You should throw at me?” Silver Tongue asked. “Stupid witch,” it approached Mackenzie and raised its ball of debris, “I eat you like paste!”

Its gleeful smile died as it suddenly began to shake. It dropped the mass of rubble and stepped back from Mackenzie. It’s arm began to wildly twist and bend, the pale flesh spinning out from Mackenzie’s brand moving upward like a flag. It screamed as multiple tiny arms from arounds it head to try and grab the fleeing flesh.

“What you do?! WHAT YOU DO?!” it screeched as its entire body began to twist.

“Bricks don’t fly,” Mackenzie said with a chuckle, “Guess you make guys make pretty good fetches, huh?”

Silver Tongue continued to scream as it became a spinning pole of meat and bone. Macaroon condensed the barrier around it and then created a second around Mackenzie. The creature’s last sputtering yells were a mix of alien curses and a language Mackenzie barely understood. Her mind, however, pulled one sentence from it clearly.

With a pop Silver Tongue exploded in a rain of blood and fragments of bone and sinew. Mackenzie lowered her head and held her arms over it to keep the muck from coating her. She barely realized Macaroon’s barrier was there. When it finally stopped Macaroon approached her, followed closely by Martin.

Mackenzie panted and sat on her knees, falling to one side before Martin caught her, “Mackenzie. Girl, you okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” she said with a cough, “Feels like I got three periods at once,” she patter her stomach.

“Gross,” Martin said laughing as he hugged her, “But you got him. You killed it. Your granddad’s body is safe. We’re safe.”

Macaroon watched, his tail tick-tocking back and forth. He stared at them until he felt light hit the back of his head. Looking over his shoulder he watched the sun begin to rise. His eyes moved to Mackenzie’s right palm and how the brand flaked away. He closed his eyes and shook his head as he went to the phone and produced another coin.

“Hey Martin,” Mackenzie said as she put her head against his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Magic is real,” she said with a child-like grin.

He laughed and cradled her. He looked around at the ruined building and the ring of blood and meat. He swallowed and patted her face. Worry masking his own.

<><><><><>