Five Fathoms of Pearls by James H. Beard (Unknown, December 1939) opens with Peter Hume staring at a wall in his house as if he can see something there. He subsequently goes out and rides through the wind and rain and dark to an inn, where he finds a cousin of his called Allen Dorn. Hume tells Dorn to return to the house with him, a property that was once owned by a witch, Elsie Dorn, a grandmother to both men.
Inside the house Dorn sees that the wall which Hume was staring at has a window which shows a sundial in the distance illuminated by moonlight—quite a different view from the other window in the room that shows the rain that they have just ridden through. While all this is unfolding we also learn about (a) a ship that the cousins pirated for gold and whose skipper they drowned, (b) a note from Grandmother Elsie about a chest at the foot of a sundial containing a string of pearls five fathoms long, and (c) instructions to look after a relative called Harriet Dorn, or suffer her vengeance (needless to say, neither of the men have done so).
The final part of the story sees the two climb through the window to get the chest but, during their journey, they see two dead girls from the ship pass by on a lane before seeing the cutlass wearing captain. The captain stares at the men but is scared off by the returning girls. By now the men have recovered the pearls and flee when the girls approach and touch them. Dorn falls but Hume makes it to the window. Then (spoiler), Dorn shoots Hume so he won’t be stranded outside the window. When Dorn reaches the window Hume uses his remaining strength to stab him.
There are too many moving parts here for such a short story (the pirating of the ship, the supernatural window, Harriet Dorn, etc.), and the ending is too abrupt. I’d also add that the men’s downfall is down to their own distrust and has little to do with the vengeful dead grandmother.
* (Mediocre). 3,900 words. Story link.
Magnificent Maurice or the Flowers of Immortality by Rati Mehrotra
Magnificent Maurice or the Flowers of Immortality by Rati Mehrotra (Lightspeed #126, November 2020) concerns a cat and a witch that live in a cottage between the roots of Yggdrasil:
It stands at the nexus of worlds, dark matter coiling around its roots, the rim of the universe held aloft by its ever-expanding crown. Its branches bend spacetime, its cordate leaves uphold the laws of physics, and its tiny white flowers grant immortality.
Let us be more specific. One flower grants immortality, two flowers cause a prolonged and painful death, three flowers the obliteration of an entire species. It does not pay to be greedy.
The story is mostly about Maurice the cat who, apart from having to defend the tree from various interlopers, has other problems to deal with:
Time flows differently here. Maurice is not immortal, and neither is the witch. They are also not as young as they used to be. There are other cats now, milling about the cottage, meowing for the witch’s attention. One day, one of them will take his place.
But not yet. Oh, not yet. Maurice raises his head and casts a yellow-eyed glare at the tortoiseshell that has just landed on the edge of the roof. To his astonishment, she does not retreat. He allows his fur to stand up, his lips to curl away from his sharp white teeth.
“Good morning, Maurice,” she says smoothly. “Surely the roof is big enough for both of us?”
Maurice’s astonishment turns to rage. A mere kitten, challenging his territory! The roof is his. The tree is also his. He will die defending it. The witch knows this, knows how good he is at his job, and yet she has allowed these . . . these . . . children to invade his home!
He rises in all his torn-eared, ragged-furred glory and arches his back, hissing like a storm of bees.
The tortoiseshell regards him, unfazed, out of bright green eyes. “There’s chopped sardines for snack. In case you want to join us.” She turns to leave. “My name is Butterscotch,” she tosses over her shoulder. She leaps down, as silently as she came.
The next part of the tale sees Maurice telling the other cats about his first battle, and how he used one of his nine lives to create a doppelganger that helped him defeat the demon beetles that attacked the tree (we also learn that subsequent battles mean he now has only one life left). Then Time passes: a God visits the tree in an attempt to steal one of its fruit so it can form a new Galaxy; meanwhile, Butterscotch and the other cats bring Maurice treats and try to ingratiate themselves.
The story eventually comes to a climax when a human called Ulhura visits the tree to steal a flower which will grant her dying lover immortality. When Maurice defends the tree, she manages to imprison him in a cage. Maurice is conflicted and does not know whether to use his last life to burst out of his enclosure and attack her, or grant her wish—then, after considering the matter, he decides to offer her a job (the witch is old like him, and would welcome an apprentice). As Maurice and Ulhura discuss the pros and cons of immortality (mostly cons, according to Maurice) and the job offer, the tree is attacked by vampire corpses: Maurice manages to convince Ulhura to release him, and the other cats also join the battle to repel the invaders. All ends well.
This is a charming, if slight, tale. But definitely one for cat lovers.
*** (Good). 4,550 words. Story link.
Jessica Ann by F. E. Ellwood
Jessica Ann by F. E. Ellwood (Argosy (UK), July 1955) introduces us to Ely, an apothecary to the seven witches in his area, and a man who is who is tempted by Jessica, a young witch who has recently arrived in the area and who suggests that they do away with the others. Ely agonises about the matter:
Ely looked at her solemnly. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were, after all, brighter than the speedwells . . .
“And old Mother Peasgood,” said Jessica. “She cured Margie Boss’s baby of her hacking cough o’ nights, and then she saw their little dog. She gave it one look out of her evil eye and it started to run backwards, and backwards-way forwards it’s been ever since. Now why, Ely, why?”
“The sabbath,” said Ely absently. “They beat them.”
“They?” said Jessica.
“The demons,” said Ely, “at the Meeting. They beat the witches who cure the coughs and charm the warts. The ones who do the mischief, now, they’re all right. But the ones who like a bit of both, like ours, they have to be careful. They daren’t not touch the goat if they’ve done something they’re going to be ashamed of. Things like mending young Tom’s back or giving the mixture for Margie Boss’s baby’s cough.”
[. . .]
“Think of it, Ely,” said Jessica, encouraged. “The medicines for the sick and the poor. The secret recipes of the witches. We could burn the wicked ones, Ely. Just the two of us and no more of the witching. And we could be married, Ely. In the church, with a real wedding, and Parson saying words over us. Think of it now, Ely.”
“Yes . . .” said Ely, and he stopped, aghast. Reforming zeal and the lengths to which the zeal will go were new to Ely. He looked at Jessica anxiously, but she was still the same Jessica, and still very beautiful. p. 103
Of course (spoiler), after Ely poisons the other witches he finds that Jessica is no better than they were and, after some more agonising, decides if you can’t beat them, join them. He picks up a copy of Sorcerie for Ye Verie Begynner, and she takes down his Apothecary sign.
Minor but okay.
** (Average). 3,050 words.