1

Reunion

Rain pelted the fogged taxi windows as Jessamine Blacklock curiously watched the landscape. A jumble of reflections struck her. First her face in window, then the window in her reflection’s glasses. The exchange of images shrunk farther and farther until they were too small to make sense of. Hundreds of small, pale, buck teethed girls, their lips sagging unattractively to the side in boredom. Her large black eyes blinked lazily, looking passed the hundred hers. It seemed the closer she got to her destination, the less color there was. The sky was gloomy gray, the grass stale mint and the trees like twisted iron. She blinked again, thinking it was strange and then forgetting she had thought it.

Anyone would have been terrified to go where she was heading. The taxi driver, constantly wiping sweat from his brow, sure was. But to Jessamine this was just another family reunion. Albeit, under very strange circumstances.

Being 22 and on her own, she would not have come at all if it wasn’t for her father. He had called her to Blacklock manor in an urgent letter, forcing she her to neglect her college studies and hop on a train to see him. As usual, he lay in his huge four poster bed, wrapped in black sheets, pale as a ghost, missing clumps of hair. He had been bed ridden for years, his love for his wife and daughter the only thing keeping him alive. Hoarsely he ordered Jessamine to sit beside him. As her petit bum sunk into the blackness he placed his hands on her shoulders and stared intently into her eyes.

“Jess,” he wheezed and then coughed in her face. “Did you get the letter?”

She knotted her brow. Could papa be going crazy too? She thought.

“Well, I’m here-“

“No! No, not my letter! The letter from Gran Gran!”

Jessamine’s eyes widened out of their usual half liddedness.

“Gran Gran sent us a letter?”

“She’s mailed all her descendants, child! Are you sure you didn’t get it?”

“Well, I might have. Sometimes the mailman doesn’t deliver me things because he’s afraid of them…”

“Yes,” said her father with a knowing nod of his head, pulling his hands back to fold over his chest. “I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch something addressed by a Semmelrogg.”

“What did it say, papa?”

“It says she’s dying, and that she’s calling all her children to decide who will inherit her magic,” he said.

“Aw, poor Gran Gran…”

“Poor Gran Gran? Jess, she’s number nine on the list of the most feared and hated people of the millennium!” At this Jessamine cocked her head, remembering slightly that she had read that magazine article.

“Really?”

“Yes Jess! Really! She’s a monstrosity! And so are her children all except for your mother, thank God. You lucked out, missy! Gran dying, if anything, is good news! But thing here is, Jess, her power is up for grabs. You must go and try to sway Gran Gran away from Theodosia!”

A simple girl, Jessamine was a bit lost.

“Aunty Theodosia?” she asked.

“Don’t refer to her so fondly, child!” her father yelled in disgust before gagging on a ball of phlegm. Helpless, Jessamine held out her arms, pulled them back to bite the end of her thumb in panic, then reached out again. Sputtering out a string of slime he gave a few more rasping coughs before wiping it off with his sleeve.

“Theodosia drove mother mad! She made me ill! It’s her fault you were sent to Hinchcliffe’s! Every pain, every evil this family has encountered is because of her! If she were to get Gran Gran’s powers, she’d tear us apart! She’s pure evil, Jessamine! You must go to Gran Gran’s and do everything in your power to stop her!”

“But-“

“Your mother can’t do it! I’m not a blood descendant! Avenge our family Jess! I beg you!”

Jessamine looked to the side. Sepia pictures of a beautiful black haired maiden, not unlike how she pictured Snow White, lined her father’s nightstand. Mother danced from picture to picture, as if she leapt just when Jessamine shifted her eyes. She was so happy. Not at all the wasted husk of a woman she was today, dark rings around her eyes, the corners of her lips drooping in a constant sadness. Young Theodosia had been torn or scribbled out of a good number of them. She was an ugly ragged tear or a black swirling void. This was Theodosia to Jessamine.

“Well… ok…”

“Oh Jess!” her father cried in joy, hugging her and getting snot all over her shoulder. Pulling back he lovingly grasped her upper arms. “I’m proud of you, Jess. I’m sorry I’m making you fight this battle for me…”

She shrugged, looking up and over. Her top lip, as it almost always was, caught above her bucked teeth. He ruffled her hair, tugging out locks from her low bun that fell in her face. She stared at them cross-eyed.

“When’s the family gathering, papa?”

It was now. The taxi inched up to the gates of a horrid stone castle, tall, thin, twisting up like the roots of an upturned tree. Jessamine weakly tugged her black suitcase out with a splash on the muddy ground. Behind her, the taxi wheels’ squealed as it shot off, not waiting for her to close the door.

A lightning bolt lit the sky and thundered. Typical Semmelrogg family dramatics. Even she had to roll her eyes. Hunched over, grunting with effort, her suitcase ploughed the ground behind her as she struggled up the steep path to the entrance.

Jessamine arrival had been by far the least exciting. People had shown up on horses, in carriages, in long fancy cars, by foot carrying blood stained knives, one even flying in a huge batwinged pot. There was an instant flaring of nostrils and disapproving looks as Jessamine pushed open the great door with her bum and stared wide eyed with mud covering her little black shoes and up the shins of her tights. Her lip twitched as she took in just how many people there were. She hadn’t met all the Semmelrogg descendants, only Uncle Reuben Savernake, his wife Yvette and their child, and Aunty Magdalena Fisk, her husband Willoughby and their 10 pig children. The others she had only heard about in stories, all quite nightmarish.

“Ahem,” said a hideous man in his 50’s with a grotesquely long nose and chin that stuck out straight and curled towards each other like lobster claws. His face was so ridiculous, it rendered Jessamine brain dead with shock. “And who might you be?” he asked with a sneer, turning his claw face up prudishly.

It took a few seconds for her to recover from her shock. Most of the Semmelrogg were concealed in shadows, looking more like a gathering of ghosts than people in the gray patchy light.

“B-Blacklock. Jessa-”

“Ah, yes. The Blacklocks. Such a diluted bloodline,” he drawled looking away with a smug tightness in his lips.

“Jessamine?” What she thought was a sofa lumbered forward, her painfully obese Aunty Magdalena. Her black curly hair bounced like the rest of her. Her dress was so mammoth it looked like it would make a fair tablecloth, that is, if the table was of a good size. Around her swarmed her 10 children, all the age of 4 to 12 and just as painful to look at as their mother.

The collective of lard rolled over to pull her out of the doorway, chirping sentences moistly.

“Uh, hi, eh, yes? Yeah, uhuh…” Jessamine uttered in response. All the faces looked like Magdalena’s at different ages and lengths. It was like being attacked by ugly baby dolls.

Magdalena, the deepest voice, spoke above the rest. “Reuben and Sophronia are here. Have you heard anything from Theodosia?”

Jessamine flinched.

“We, uh… I’ve never actually seen her or talked to her ever…” Jessamine said quietly, nervously glancing at the pale floating faces. Everyone was in black. Only she, in her gray and black striped blouse deviated from the look.

“Oh? Oh! Of course! I remember! Poor Gerty. Theodosia can be suck a tease,” Magdalena chuckled giving Jessamine a light slap on the shoulder while laughing at her own forgetfulness. Jessamine screwed up her face. She’d never heard anyone call her mom by her nickname before, and she found tease to be an odd way to put driving someone insane.

“Uhm…” said Jessamine hesitantly. “What, uh, is going on?”

“Buford and Archibald went to give your luggage to the servants. Such little gentlemen,” Magdalena said, looking over at her two eldest sons admiringly. “As for rest of us, we’re all waiting and eager to see who shows up! Everyone here is in competition for Gran Gran’s magic, you know! Everyone has someone they’re afraid of and everyone is hoping they don’t show!” She laughed as though this was witty. “If you ask me, everyone’s praying Theodosia doesn’t show up. She’s so much like Gran Gran, don’t you know. She’s sure to fall into favor.”

Jessamine cringed.

“Larkin Spraggon is sure to show up fashionably late, and who knows about young Ambrose. My dear, did you hear what he did to his face? It’s horrendous! Poor Grimwald still flinches at the mention of it!” Magdalena ranted on about things Jessamine didn’t understand, about people she had only heard about in passing. Jess now joined the others, watching the door, dreading who would appear next.

There was a clap of thunder.

“A car!” croaked a hunched, horrid man who had some how scaled the smooth walls to perch on a windowsill high above.

“What kind?” asked the claw faced man, as if the answer would prove the newcomer worthy. Jessamine blushed. It just now sunk in how embarrassing it was to drive up in a taxi.

“How should I know?” squawked hunched man. “It’s pretty!” Claw face rolled his eyes and let his crossed arms fall.

Tensely Jessamine clenched her teeth at the sound of a car door shutting and footsteps.

“Who is it?” asked a small sweaty man. “Who is it?”

“I dunno,” the hunched man shrugged.

“What do they look like?” inquired claw face.

“Dark hair-“

“All Semmelroggs have dark hair you idiot!”

“Slicked like-“

“Is it a man?”

“Yes. Not bad looking. Really long legs. Smiling all pompous like-”

“Larkin…” claw face said with a growl. A low rumble of similar angry noises boiled from the group and Jessamine sighed, attracting some strange looks by people who misinterpreted her relief for passion. Her lips stretched comically as she waved her hands and stiffly shook her head to signal otherwise.

The door handle squeaked and in Larkin stepped, looking first at the floor and then snapping his head up, pausing, eyes twitching between all the glowering faces.

“Hello!” he chimed. The low rumble of distaste once again sounded and he smiled all the more widely as a servant of his, pale and frightened dropped in his bags and bolted. The hunched man on the window snickered as he watched the servant slip halfway down the path and slide a good ten yards in the mud.

“Butler!” Larkin cried with a beckoning wave to a lump of shadow in the corner, and out walked, to Jessamine’s utter shock, a gorilla in a butler’s uniform. He grunted as he picked up Larkin’s heavy bags like marshmallows and waddled off into the darkness. Jess looked at Aunty Magdalena, hoping she could provide some explanation, but Magdalena was so unamazed she didn’t even turn her head to see Jess’s reaction.

“Who we waiting for?” asked Larkin with a clap of his hands.

“Figure it out for you self. Larkin. You are the Semmelrogg family expert after all,” said claw face with much venom.

“Grimwald Crakenthorpe!” Larkin exclaimed at hearing him. Now Jessamine remembered who claw face was. Crakenthorpe was the oldest Semmelrogg name in existence, besides Gran Gran Semmelrogg herself, of course. It had been preserved for centuries by a long legacy of boys, dating back some 600 hundred years to Gran Gran’s own daughter. The Crakenthorpes were obsessed with their bloodline and everything connected to it, including their family trait, though family deformity was more like it, their giant hooked chins and noses.

“Nice to see you again! It’s been a while!”

“Shut it Larkin. You shouldn’t even be here. A wretch as villainous as you has no right to call himself a Semmelrogg,” Grimwald hissed.

Larkin laughed. “Are you serious?”

There was another thunderclap and a click.

“Wait,” said Larkin. “Was that a car I just heard?”

“Gideon!” Grimwald yelled to the hunched man who spun in mid hop and squinted out before going wide eyed.

“Oh! Oh! I know who that is!” he crowed.

“Who?” asked Grimwald and Larkin at the same time. They spun their heads to lock eyes, Grimwald snarling, Larkin grinning devilishly.

“Theodosia! And… she’s got a man…”

Everyone broke out it chatter at once. Larkin was scurrying around, trying to figure out how hunched Gideon found his way up. Jessamine pulled back into the shadows, so pale she was almost transparent.

A blast of air shook the doors open. Among the wispy evening light stood Aunty Theodosia, a horrid tight-faced woman with an insincere smile. Her hair was peppered gray and pulled slick to resemble a cobra’s hood. Deep sheenless maroon lipstick stood stark against her pale Semmelrogg skin. She was not the ugliest Semmelrogg child by far, but she looked infinitely sinister and cunning. She smiled at her wide eyed relatives and pulled her head back, flaring her nose in amusement. She was not at all offended that the man behind her was diverting their attention. If anything, she seemed pleased by it. She stepped in, still mostly in front of him, obscuring their view as the mystery man pulled her bags.

“My,” she said looking around. “I haven’t seen a gathering like this before. Am I the last one to arrive?”

“It seems so,” said Larkin, coming off one foot to tilt around her. She cocked her head along with to block his view. “Unless Ambrose-’

“You will not mention that child!” Grimwald erupted. “He’s been disowned. I doubt he even got a letter!”

“Well,” said Theodosia slowly taking a long breath and lazily blinking before continuing. “What about Horace?”

The entire group gasped, that is, except Jassamine who screwed up her face in confusion. Horace… Horace… she thought to herself. She had heard that name before.

“Horace is dead!” Grimwald yelled, his face bright red, containing the most pigment Jessamine had ever seen on a Semmelrogg face.

“Dead? I thought he was just missing! Is there something you’re not telling us, Grimmy?” said Theodosia reminding Jessamine of the serpent who tempted Adam and Eve.

“Even if he was alive,” Grimwald said, ignoring her question and shooting Larkin and threatening sideways glance. “He is no Semmelrogg.”

“Oh. Pity. I was hoping young Bertram could reunite with his father. Put down those bags and let me introduce you. Semmelroggs, Bertram Crakenthorpe. Bertram Crakenthorpe, Semmelroggs.” Theodosia stepped away from the man at last. Bertram was tall, early 30’s, his eccentric Crakenthorpe features lessened greatly by his mother’s gene pool. His nose was still a bit large and his jaw was broad, jutting in an insolent kind of way. His eyes were deep set, dark, and his hair black, long and currently pulled back in a very stubby ponytail. He had the look of a Jane Austin character; dark, moody, ugly in some respects but over all handsome in the right eyes. Not Jessamine’s though. To her, he just seemed like a grump.

The little sweaty man who had spoken before fainted on the spot and Grimwald looked so angry his eyes would pop out. Glancing at Grimwald, Magdalena squeaked in fear and herded all her children to a safe distance.

Bertram didn’t wave or say anything, he just looked them over with a general expression of disgust and grabbed her bags again. People recoiled as though he was diseased as he pulled the bags passed them. Only Grimwald stood his ground, frozen in a hideous state of explosive rage. Jessamine wondered why Bertram wasn’t scared for his life.

“GEEEEET OOOUT!” Grimwald erupted. “GET OUT GET OUT! You…” he said shaking. “are no Crakenthorpe! And you are certainly no Semmel-”

“Curious that he got a letter than.”

Grimwald’s eyes bulged at Theodosia’s statement. “He… he got a what?”

“A letter. From Gran Gran. Inviting him just like you and I. I suppose Gran Gran makes no exceptions,” Theodosia said with a smirk.

“This is blasphemous!” Grimwald thundered, his fists shaking. “I will not for one moment believe he’s-“

“I’m not here for her powers, old man,” Bertram admitted with a sneer. “Calm down.”

Grimwald drooped in confusion, looking like a hanging marionette.

“He’s a business man you see, but his company went bankrupt. He came to me for financial help,” Theodosia explained and Jessamine could not imagine why anyone would go to her for aid. “It’s not magic he’s after, it’s money. And he’ll get mine if he pleases me.”

Grimwald was snapped back into animation. “And a whore as well?!”

Bertram jumped violently while Theodosia just threw her head back in laughter.

“Oh God no!” She laughed a little more. “It’s totally innocent, I assure you. It gets lonely in my mansion, it is nice to have company.”

Jessamine almost fainted from relief and apparently she made a sound, because Theodosia’s head snapped so fast in her direction, Jessamine was surprised it didn’t fly clean off. Theodosia’s eyes narrowed and relaxed before she stuck her nose in the air, not unlike Grimwald, and asked, “And you are?”

Jessamine didn’t want to say. She was afraid if Theodosia knew, she’d surly do something awful to her. Horror stricken she quaked and looked around, forgetting her name entirely.

“Can’t you tell, cousin?” Magdalena asked, for she and Theodosia were cousins. Jessamine called Magdalena aunty just because their families were close. “She’s Gerty’s child. She has her eyes, doesn’t she?” A ripple of cruel amusement spread across Theodosia’s face.

“Ahhh…” she said. “Yes. I can see it now. Silly me, not even recognizing my own niece, how horrible of me. How is Gerty, dear?” Jessamine could tell the worse off she said her mother was, the happier Theodosia would be.

“O-o-ok… I guess…”

“Ok, you guess?” said Theodosia with a laugh. “Well I guess that’s good then! What are you doing all the way back there?” She looked at Magdalena. “Don’t tell me she’s been standing back here ever since she arrived…”

“Almost the entire time,” Magdalena said, being no help at all.

“Aww,” Theodosia cooed and lightly swung a lithe arm around Jessamine’s shoulders. “No need to be shy. We’re all family here.”

“He’s not!

“Oh shut up,” Theodosia snapped at Grimwald. “Where’s your mother, dear? Seems a bit cruel to send such a young girl off on her own. What are you? Seventeen now?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Ahhh… how time flies,” Theodosia was so gentle, so kind, for a moment Jessamine found herself tricked but a glance at Bertram who gave her a hard warning look reminded her just who she was dealing with.

“Is that a Blacklock?” Larkin interjected.

“Yes,” said Theodosia, her face and voice tensing with a hint of annoyance.

“Jessamine?”

‘Yes,” Theodosia repeated shortly. Larkin looked very intrigued, and Jessamine gave him a sickly confused look before Theodosia snapped her attention back.

“You really must update me on things. I’ve been out of contact with your mother for years, as horrible as that is for a sister to do. There is so much I want to hear about, and about you most of all! Missing my own niece’s childhood. Oh, how tragic!”

Jessamine couldn’t help thinking you’ve done worse and she knotted her brows and looked at the ground, lip over her teeth. Theodosia looked at this ugly expression warmly, no doubt happy Gery’s beauty had eluded her offspring.

“You know, I haven’t had any news on the Blacklocks for years!” said Larkin, stepping over like a daddy longlegs in his knee high boots.

“Well aren’t they lucky,” said Theodosia coldly, swerving Jessamine away. “Avoid him,” she whispered in Jessamine’s ear. “He’s a spy.”

A spy? This comment puzzled Jess like everything else. She really wished her memory was better. Being a Semmelrogg, she should know all about these people.

All of a sudden Grimwald threw up his arms in impatience.

“Well! If we’re all here, what’s the point of hanging around each other? I, for one, am off to find my room!”

“Me too,” came from the corner. It was deep, feminine voice, with a frightening rumble. Jessamine twirled her head around and in the dark there was a flash, like light glinting off a metallic surface. Theodosia grabbed Jessamine’s chin and snapped her face back.

“It’s Sophronia, dear. Don’t look,” she warned and then smiled giving Jess a pat on the head. “I think I should stay close to you, you poor ignorant devil! Wouldn’t want you looking at the wrong people and getting yourself killed!” Jessamine’s head moved forwards and back as a thick gulp slid down her throat. Sophronia Savernake, the only Savernake, besides Theodosia, Jessamine was never allowed to see.

“They better serve dinner soon. Talk about being inhospitable...” Grimwald grumbled and walked up the stairs. Swooshes of black capes and dresses followed him. Larkin lingered behind Jess like a stalker as Theodosia led her upstairs. Bertram followed, eyes down, looking ready to bite someone.

Jess’s room was like a black and white horror film though its musty dark atmosphere was better than being in Semmelrogg company. She wondered if this old place had a phone to call father. Things were so confusing here.

She jumped onto her bed and was instantly enveloped in a cloud of dust. Gagging, she writhed around before falling off and crawling to a clean patch of air. That gorilla didn’t do a very good job at cleaning the place, she thought, not even catching how odd this sounded. Grabbing onto a chest, she straightened herself and brushed off the dust. The room was dark, and old. There were tapestries that took up entire walls showing grotesque images of wicked pale black haired fiends terrorizing villagers in some form or another. Ancestors, maybe, she reasoned, walking along them, dragging her fingertips across their coarse heavy surfaces. She had to pull her hand back from one particularly gross image of a woman cutting a baby open when she decided she had enough of the history lesson. With a sullen droop of her mouth, she pulled over a chair to climb up to the high sill of the room’s only window. The glass was so dirty it only faintly glowed with the twilight outside. Pale little arms going to work, she grunted trying to force open the window’s latch. It didn’t budge. She pulled her hands back and flexed them once or twice before diving back in, almost screaming with effort. Shaking the latch desperately, she let out a whiney moan before throwing her soiled hands on her lap. Oh well. Locked up again. Nothing new for poor Jessamine. As was common with Jess, she just switched off her brain and spaced out. Often neglected or choosing to exclude herself for one reason or another, Jessamine could think of no better way to pass the time.

There was no clock so she didn’t know how long she sat there. She heard raised voices now and then, and the piglets scurrying around with Magdalena crying in fear.

“You’ve been down here the entire time? Oh Reuben, you’re so pathetic sometimes.” Jessamine clearly heard a mystery woman’s voice hiss as she walked by. Uncle Reuben was the other Savernake her family was intimate with. Jess remembered now it must have been him who passed out. She couldn’t see him clearly in the light. And the voice was Yvette, he gorgeous red headed wife. Jess had never heard her sound so cruel.

After what could have been a long while, or maybe just an hour, there was a door shaking knock that nearly made Jess fall off her perch.

“Huh?” she called stupidly and the doorknob turned. In looked the stern face of the gorilla, its nose flaring and shrinking under its huge brow. Jessamine looked around, pulling her lips to the side nervously then looking at the beast. It gave her a blink and hopped in, opening the door and jerking its face with a loud snort to indicate she should follow. Hesitant, Jessamine slipped down onto the chair, teetered and then hopped down with a slight twist of her ankle which made her tip forward and snap up. The gorilla stared emotionless, but Jessamine couldn’t shake the feeling it thought she was an idiot. Pushing back her loose hair, she followed with a slight limp down the stairs to a large doorway. Lights floated in from the other side, as well as voices. She looked down at the gorilla for guidance, but it was already scaling the stairs’ railing for the next guest. Her right eye wincing, she slowly walked down, stiff backed. She passed many doors, all different in design until she came into a massive room. Where one would expect a ceiling and more rooms overhead, the dining hall reached up and over into a vast towering vault. The walls were tapestried, gargoyled, carved, painted and mosaiced in a clutter of images. At a glance, it just seemed the walls were covered in eyes. To her shock, the floor was. The tiles, black and white had large eyes, which, depending on the tile color, where white with black pupils or black with white pupils. Jessamine modestly pressed her legs together before looking up at the table. Everyone was staring at her and her simple amazement.

The table was long with silver candelabras with black long candles. The tablecloth, an off white with black lace crawling up from its corners. The goblets were large and slightly dusty looking and everyone had a small china plate surrounded by threatening looking silverware.

For the first time, she could really see the others. Their clothes were from mismatched time periods. Grimwald was in a kind of Renaissance jerkin and cape and Magdalena’s dress looking like a black Elizabethan nightgown. Gideon, the hunched man who was on the windowsill, was wearing layers upon layers of black rags and a tattered cape that covered one side of his body and clasped at his right shoulder. Larkin looked Victorian with a cravat on his silky black shirt, a long tailed jacket and tight pants from which stretched his spider legs and tall boots. Reuben was in dark robes like an old bishop, his wife, Yvette, looked like a woman in mourning, her corseted, bone whale hooped black dress and little hat making her pale cheeks and red hair glow brilliantly. The piglets looked like black sailors, Willoughby Fisk, the piglets’ thin and sour looking father was in a suit with a dark blue vest and tie.

Then Jessamine saw Sophronia. She was tall and willowy, a cross between a witch, a scarecrow and a fashion model. She has a wild crazy face that could have been pretty if it was a bit younger and not so obviously insane. She was studying the steak knife that had been set out for her, and with a movement precise and deadly, her eyes locked on Jess’s. Jessamine snapped her head in the other direction with a shiver running down her spine. No looking, she reminded herself with teeth clenched.

Sophronia’s clothes at first resembled Yvette’s but at the hip and elbows the dress was torn like spider webs and she had tight pants ripped at her knees, continued by knee high black socks.

There was also someone else she hadn’t noticed. His deep eyes that looked permanently squinted twitched crazily over the images on the walls, his wide thin mouth twisting with amusement. His hands clasped on the table, Jessamine was shocked to see yet more hands sticking out of his robe playing with his silverware.

“Will you stop staring and sit already?” Grimwald barked making her jump. “Do none of you have manners?” he asked before angrily crossing his arms.

Jessamine half ran to take a seat by Magdalena.

There was a slurp. Jess looked up to see Gideon eyeing the piglets with a wild starving look in his eyes. She pulled back disgusted and Magdalena huffed loudly.

“Not my children, Gideon. You’ll have to eat normal food tonight,” she stated, wrapping her arms around her nearest whining fat ball.

Theodosia stepped in, her dress turtle necked, stiffened corset like, with trailing lengths of black. Bertram behind had a blazer over a black dress shirt, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Hello all. Bertram, best not sit by Uncle Grimwald, he’ll likely try to poison you,” Theodosia warned, though Bertram didn’t seem to care. They sat next to each other and Bertram sneered at his dirty cup and looked up disgusted at the horrid decorations.

Entwining her fingers, Theodosia smiled sinisterly and looked around.

“So,” she began. There was a clap of thunder. Everyone, except the many handed stranger, perked up at once.

“Can’t be…” said Larkin.

“No. It must be real thunder this time. The weather has been moist,” Grinwald said and began to refold his napkin nervously. There was absolute silence. Jessamine fidgeted in suspense.

The front door creaked open and a thud could be heard as the gorilla ran over. Everyone shot Grimwald excited looks as he absently mindedly balled his napkin in his hands, looking at the hallway in horror.

“Ambrose?” Magdalena quietly said to herself, and at hearing Jess perked up at once. The guy that messed up his face. Jess thought she might not want to look.

The sharp footsteps of smooth flat soled shoes tapped louder and louder. Reuben was shaking so badly, the table rattled. In the darkness a form was approaching. Jessamine readied her hands, looking through the V’s of her fingers. The silhouetted man held out his arms in a welcoming gesture and like a curtain, the darkness pulled back as he stepped into the light.

There was a gasp. Jessamine froze.

Bright blond hair shimmered over perfect pale skin, a small elegant nose, dimpled little chin, high cheeks and dashing green eyes. He was, in a global sense, not just compared to the grotesque Semmelroggs, hot. Yvette even went wide eyed and gave a flirtatious look with much batting of the eyes.

“Hello family!” he beamed. Grimwald’s napkin ripped.

“How dare you show your… your…”

“Face, father? Show my face? Hah!” the young man cried. “Really father, you need to get over it. I am, after all, now the hottest Semmelrogg who has ever lived.”

“Ambrose!” Grimwald roared. His son framed his face forming a W with his hands, thumbs touched, making a series of attractive expressions.

“He had his nose and chin fixed,” Madgalena whispered to Jessamine. “It’s a complete insult to the Crakenthorpe family.”

Jessamaine was too entranced to hear her. She was so happy the Crakenthorpes were so distantly related. So happy.

Larkin was shaking his head, smiling at Grimwald with a mixture of amusement and pity for the multiple blows he had taken this evening.

“Larkin!” Ambrose said warmly, turning his attention.

“Hello Ambrose.”

“That article you wrote about my surgery was wonderful.”

Larking shrugged and admitted, “I try my best.”

“Aunty…” Jessamine whispered to Magdalena who shifted her enormous weight to lean closer to her. “Is Larkin a… reporter?”

“You don’t know? He writes for many publications, basically anyone who will pay the most for his story. He’s sort of a freelance journalist. Everyone wants to know about the old families, the Semmelrogg especially and being that he is one, he’s the go to for information.”

“So… he’s kind of a spy…” Jessamine quoted Theodosia.

“Yes. After all is said and done, he’s sure to write a book about this. We must keep on our toes, you see, and not say too much. Everything he hears is typed up for the White Casts’ eyes.”

The White Casts were a political party, though Jessamine didn’t know much about politics.

“What are you doing here?!” Grimwald bellowed.

“Invited.”

Grimwald screamed, shaking his napkin clenched fists in the air.

“You two are ruining the only chance I have!” he screamed pointing at Ambrose and Bertram. “How is Gran Gran going to take the Crakenthorpes seriously now? Huh? You have ruined us all!”

“Why him?” asked Ambrose, looking at Bertram. Grimwald went red, unable to explain.

“This is Bertram Crakenthorpe, Ambrose. Your cousin,” Theodosia smiled, happy to squeeze yet another reaction from this stunt.

“Horace’s…?” Ambrose trailed off in disbelief. Theodosia just smiled to let it sink in, but annoyed, Bertram bluntly said, “Yes.”

Ambrose’ mouth curved into an O, eyes tilting towards his dad. Their eyes locked and Grimwald gave a few offended blinks before curling his lips, snarling, “Oh shut up!”

Bertram stood. “Well,” he said with a voice dark and full of authority. “If there isn’t going to be any food, and we’re just going to sit around an gawk at me, I might as well head back to my room.”

“Ahem, Bertram. Best you don’t wander off anywhere on your own,” Theodosia said with a tight grasp on his sleeve. “Wouldn’t want to end up like your father.”

“Quite,” Grimwald snarled and then gave Larkin a growl as he leaned in curiously.

Ambrose slid into a seat by Sophronia, turned and recoiled at her sadistic smile and then moved to sit by Bertram.

“Cousin,” he said with a nod of his head, to which Bertram responded with a, “Mhm.”

As though the gorilla had known Ambrose was coming from the start, and had been waiting patiently for him to arrive, the door opened and out it swung, holding up trays of food and grunting. The silvers clattered roughly on the table as the gorilla tossed them down and barreled away on his knuckles to get the rest.

“I hope he isn’t the cook as well,” Ambrose said and then laughed, though no one else did.

Eager, one of Magdalena’s piglets pulled off the top of a tray to unveil a beautiful ham, streaming in its own juices. Having expected it would be something horrible like a snake or a monkey’s head, Jessamine smiled weakly and relaxed. More palters clanged on the table with gorilla snorts and grunts. No one lifted a finger, patiently waiting for the food to finish arriving, except Bertram who made a grab for something and Theodosia slapped his hand.

Finally they dug in, the piglets attacking the food like termites. Frantically, Jessamine grabbed some dinner and kept alert, like a dog over its bowl, to make sure the pigs didn’t take food off of her plate.

Bertram held out a hand stiffly as the bread he was reaching for was pulled out from under his fingers. Going red in the cheeks, he glared at the children coldly.

Any piglet that went for Sophronia’s meal was kept away by her speedy blade, and Gideon was intentionally trying to fork their quick pudgy hands while Grimwald laughed as he missed.

“Eat something, dear,” Yvette said to her daughter, Elspeth, a fourteen year old with auburn hair and an oval pointy face with huge spooky blue eyes. She was Rueben’s stepdaughter. He and Yvette had only been together for 4 years.

Jessamine and Elspeth didn’t get along. Elspeth was sharp tongued and extremely clever for her age, much more clever than Jessamine, a fact Elspeth enjoyed rubbing in.

“Uh- uhm… some, uh, drinks? … Please?” Reuben asked the gorilla, holding up a glass. The gorilla didn’t seem to understand his words but it understood his gesture and bounded off to the kitchen.

A piglet squealed as Theodosia twisted its wrist and the many handed man quickly pulled food into his robe and was lifting the goods one by one to nibble. As soon as a hand descended another slid up in a cascade of fingers.

The gorilla wobbled out on its hind legs, sloshing a picture of wine everywhere. Yvette held out a cup and the gorilla turned the entire picture over onto it, drenching her hand. Her eye twitched as she pulled the cup back to take a sip.

“Where’s Gran Gran, I wonder?” said Larkin chewing on a piece of steak.

“Well, she is dying,” said Grimwald, delicately cutting some turkey. “She’s probably laying in bed.”

“How do you think she’s going to pick?” asked Magdalena’s husband, Willoughby.

“You never know with Gran Gran. Hard to imagine her dying, isn’t it? She seemed immortal until now,” Theodosia commented.

Ambrose was smiling and looking squinty eyed to the side, day dreaming her heir would be determined by a beauty contest.

“Maybe she’ll quiz us on family history- Hey! Hey! Give that back you filthy little pig!” Grimwald yelled, reaching out a long bony arm and grabbing a piglet by its hair and shaking him.

“Hold him tight, Grimwald!” Gideon cackled, rubbing his fork and knife together.

Magdalena looked up from her porking it shock. “Don’t you dare!” she exclaimed, bending a blubber filled arm to throw a bone at Gideon’s face.

The chaos continued at a constant ridiculous level. When Jessamine finished her meal she folded her hands on her lap and looked down, hoping not to be noticed.

“How is Gerty, uhm… Blacklock…” Grimwald asked. Jess looked up surprised that someone who found themselves so high and mighty would stoop to speaking to her.

“Uhm,” she glanced at Theodosia who smiled like a serpent. “She’s… She’s fine.”

Grimwald blinked, unimpressed. “Well that’s vague,” he sneered and went back to his food.

“Grimmy had his eyes on your mother for some time, Jessamine,” Theodosia stated and Jess could not conceal a violent flinch, at which Theodosia laughed.

“What?” Grimwald asked, having missed it. “She was a fool to go for that… that Blacklock fellow.”

“Heard he was quite a looker until Theodosia got to him,” Larkin said with raised brows.

“Oh Larkin… what rumors you hear…” responded Theodosia, laughing. Jessamine looked at her with knotted brows, and Larkin smiled, satisfied, as if Jess’s reaction was all the information he needed.

“Theodosia, I heard you had a duel with… that famous astronomer,” Willoughby said from across the table.

“It’s Masheck, Mr. Fisk. Masheck Murgatroyd. Old loon, some, 200 years old, I believe,” Theodosia said casually.

Duels were an old tradition, consisting of spell casting, though most any weapon was allowed. The winner received the loser’s magic. Normally, magic was passed on by wills and if it was left to no one, the government seized it. After the White Casts took over, dueling was made illegal. Even with Larkin around, Theodosia was too proud to hide her victory.

“How on earth did you beat him?” Willoughby asked, amazed.

“Power’s nice but cunning’s better. The most poorly endowed caster can beat anyone if she uses her mind,” Theodosia described.

“You must be powerful now,” Larkin said, enjoying the story.

“Which is one of the many reasons you best avoid me, Larkin,” Theodosia said calmly but with sparks in her eyes. Not menaced, Larkin leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

The gorilla thudded in and ran up to Larkin and he blinked as the gorilla loudly breathed.

“Uhm, uh… hello?” he said to it and laughed. Desperately the gorilla jerked around before grabbing the lip of Larkin’s boot and shaking it.

“Ah! Watch it, fuzzy! What, do you want me to come? Ok ok!” Larkin stood up, grinning. “I’m coming! See you guys, I have business with the ape.”

Everyone stared after him silently and once his footsteps faded they exchanged confused looks.

“… Well I hope it kills him,” Grimwald said bluntly and turned back to his food.

“You think… You think Gran Gran summoned him?” asked Ambrose.

“Barnabas!” Magdalena snapped at the many handed man who sheepishly smiled as hands returned the silverware from his robe to the table.

“What do you think your brother’s up to, Barnabas?” asked Theodosia, leaning on her entwined fingers.

Jessamine knotted her brows. “Larkin’s bro-”

“Yes,” Magdalena answered quickly.

Barnabas shrugged and a hand stuck out from his chest with a finger extended.

“That’s my favorite, I think,” he commented on a mosaic. Everyone slowly turned their heads and craned their necks before looking back. Even they were weirded out.

A piglet squealed and jumped out of its seat, rolling up onto the dirty dishes and napkins weeping. Across the table, Gideon tried to subtly slip from under the tablecloth into his chair. The piglet pulled up her skirts to reveal a bit mark on her leg.

In a fit of rifled nerves, Magdalena began throwing the left over bones and fruit cores at Gideon who curled in a ball, laughing.

Throwing up his hands, Bertram shook his head and stood to leave but Theodosia violently yanked him back down.

“Restrain you munchkins, Magdalena. Lets all try to act… civil,” Theodosia suggesting, smiling sourly. All went silent, considering such a thing was quite impossible for the Semmelrogg clan. They all twiddled their thumbs and awaited Larkin’s reappearance.

It didn’t take long. He strode in beaming, twirling into his seat. He looked around to build suspense before he said, “Just saw Gran Gran.”

There was a roar of questions. Larkin leaned back, grinning cruelly as he let his family become hysterical.

“She wants to talk to Sophronia next,” was his only response. The gorilla was stationed at the end of the hall, ready to escort her out.

“About what?!” Grimwald screamed as Sophronia stood and departed. The question was echoed about 12 more times before Larkin waggled a disapproving finger.

“You’ll just have to wait and see! As for me,” he stretched his arms and forced a yawn. “I’m off to my room. See you in the morning.”

They were basically screeching at him as he departed before they sunk down quietly in defeat.

“I dibs killing him,” Grimwald announced.

“No fair,” Theodosia snapped. “You got Horace-”

“He was my brother! I had the soul right to knock him off!”

“Well, then Barnabas should have first dibs on Larkin!”

Jessamine was shocked. The minute the spy had left the room, the talk had immediately turned to murder. As scary as she thought her family was before, she now felt truly in danger.

“You can have him,” Barnabas said lazily.

“Who? Me?” Grimwald inquired.

Barnabas shrugged.

“Hah!” Grimwald hacked triumphantly.

“I would prefer Sophronia did it,” said, to Jessamine’s violent shock, Magdalena while straightening her daughter’s bow. “She’d make a show of it.”

“I can be as vicious as her!”

“Bet you wouldn’t dare say that if she was here, Grimwald. Just goes to show that you’re bluffing.”

“I dibs, I dibs!”

Only Bertram was as shocked as Jess. His jaw hanging open, he stared unblinking at the plots unfolding before him.

“You can be so- Berty, don’t look so shocked. Stop gawking like an idiot-” Theodosia slapped Bertram’s mouth closed so hard, Jessamine jumped in fear for his tongue. Luckily it was still intact.

“That reminds me. Don’t go killing Bertram, Grimwald. I know you had your eyes sets on destroying the entire family, but he’s mine now.”

“Theodosia,” laughed Magdalena. “It’s not like anyone survives you anyway.”

That Jess could believe.

The chair slid and creaked as Grimwald leaned over the table, his claw like visage bobbing inches from Bertram’s face.

“Better not go anywhere without you nanny, boy. That’s how I got your father. He got lazy, you see, cocky even. He went out for a stroll and I twisted him to death with a very, very nasty incantation. I didn’t go easy on your mother, either…”

Bertram simply snarled at the tale of his father but at his mother… The table shook as he brought down his fists and stood straight to stare down at Grimwald’s horrid features.

“You… revolting, hideous scum! Do you want to know what I’d do if I found you alone? You arrogant prick, don’t think for one second you shouldn’t be watching your back as well!”

Grimwald snarled like a dog as Theodosia laughed and grabbed Bertram’s collar, pulling him down as he gurgled a strangled yelp.

She sighed. “Typical family drama, ah. A reunion wouldn’t be complete without a plethora of death threats, now, wouldn’t it?”

The atmosphere tense, Jessamine felt like she was in the wrong place entirely.

Sophronia emerged and soon others followed, though, conversation was now lacking, everyone was so angry at each other. The only notable exchange of words happened after Grimwald’s departure in which Theodosia again roughly grabbed Bertram’s collar and hissed, “He could tear you apart in his sleep, you idiot.”

“You haven’t seen me cast, Theodosia. Remember who my mother was.” And the two left it at that.

At last, Reuben returned and stuttered, “J-J-Jessamine?”

Jess stood, smoothing out her skirt with twitchy nervous movements and then followed the ape. All was dark and only the loud thuds of the gorilla’s knuckles guided her. She saw a towering slither of light that indicated two doors closed on another and the gorilla pushed them open to a giant colorless room. It was dungeon like, and though huge, the damp heavy air made one claustrophobic. She hesitantly walked in, baby stepping her way to a big black swathed box whose curtains parted to show a bed. A pale skeletal hand sat in Jess’s view, making her shiver with fear.

Her quaking fingers pushed the curtains aside and there sat Gran Gran, looking remarkable well for someone over 800, though that wasn’t saying much. Her eyes were mostly closed and shadows obscured her face.

“Jessamine Blacklock?” came her faint trembling voice.

“Y-yes?”

“Why are you here?”

“… You called me?”

“No… why did you come to my castle?”

Jessamine opened her mouth and then closed it. Why was she here? What kind of question was that?

Gran Gran waited.

“I…” should she lie and say she just wanted the magic? This could be the best time to try to foil Theodosia by winning Gran Gran’s sympathies. But, was Gran Gran one to pity others? She was a Semmelrogg.

Jessamine sighed. It was worth a try.

“Gran Gran, I don’t need the magic. Just...” she tugged her lips to the side unattractively. “Theodosia, she hurt my mom, and my dad and, he… please Gran Gran. Don’t give her the magic.”

“You’ve come… to stop Theodosia?” Gran Gran asked.

“She hurt my parents really bad,” Jessamine went on.

“I understand. Now, tell me… if you do get my magic… what will you do?”

Jessamine didn’t even think that was a possibility.

“I-” she thought of Ambrose. If she got the magic, and gave it to him, maybe he’d love her. “I don’t know.”

“Why should I pick you?”

“You don’t have to,” this felt like a job interview.

“Do you like your family?”

“Some of them…”

“Only some?” Gran Gran asked her.

“Yes. Some are, uhm, mean.”

“Ah,” said Gran understandingly. “What’s the worse thing you’ve ever done, Jessamine?”

Jess looked the side and pondered. One memory stood out the strongest and she shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeees?” Gran Gran urged.

“I made my mother cry once. I… I yelled at her. I shouldn’t have. I normally don’t yell at people.”

Gran went silent for a second and Jessamine grew concerned that she had died.

“What is the best thing you’ve ever done?”

Jess could think of nothing.

“I’ve never really done anything special…” Sadness lined her face. She must have been boring Gran Gran. She was so simple.

“Go get Permelia for me, dear.

Gran Gran was cutting it short. Jess was truly pathetic. She paused to think who exactly Premelia was until it occurred to her it was a piglet. Gran Gran’s going to interview the piglets too? Poor Gran Gran… Jessamine thought before she got up and left. She couldn’t help thinking she annoyed Gran Gran so greatly she’d choose Theodosia just to spite her. Though, unlike most people, her gut feelings were usually wrong.

People had left to their rooms after being interviewed and only Magdalena sat with her husbands and kids at the long, now soiled table.

“Uhm…” said Jessamine, trying to remember the name. “Premelia?”

Lucky for her, there was a Premelia and she wasn’t just pulling names out of thin air. Magdalena didn’t even say bye to the departing Jess, she was so caught up in her child’s summon. Though, no longer finding comfort in her pudgy aunt, Jessamine really didn’t care.

Jess tripped down black halls, fearing every second that she’d see the flash of Sophronia’s knife when a hoarse, “Hey! Jessamine! Psst!” caused her to jump.

“Who-?”

“Larkin. Can a catch a few words with you?”

Larkin had quickly become the least frightening of the Semmelroggs, besides the heartthrob Ambrose of course, and she trusted him without thinking. He put a guiding hand on her shoulder and led her to his brightly lit room. It was almost identical to hers but there were weird amulets hanging from the door and windows. Larkin sniffed a laugh when she stared at them.

“Protection. I’m not an idiot, you know. Being away from the spotlight puts me in a very dangerous position. Anyway, Blacklock,” he paused, looking at her, smiling. “Wow. Thought you disappeared off the map.”

“O-oh?” she said. Though he wasn’t murderous, she didn’t feel entirely comfortable in the room of a strange man.

“I couldn’t help noticing how baffled you’ve looked all evening,” he commented, sitting in a chair. Jessamine blushed, unhappy it was obvious.

“Hows about this. Hows about we make a little trade. I’ll give you information in exchange for information. Ok? All I want is a family history… Theodosia’s involvement, your parents. Nothing extremely revealing. Nothing to worry about.”

“Well, I have been wondering about a few thi-”

“Perfect! What do you need to know?”

Jessamine fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Everything…”

Larkin laughed and shook his head.

“Guess your mother couldn’t tell you much, huh? Well here it goes, Semmelrogg history, one-oh-one. Would you like to sit down?” he asked standing offering his seat. “I like to pace when I tell stories.” She shrugged and stiffly slid down beside him.

“Gran Gran Semmelrogg. Today she was, well, awful. I never thought she’d sink that low. Kind of imagined her going down in smoke and fire, laughing after wiping out half the continent. Who knows what her mind is going through during these last moments. Regret maybe? Could she have a heart after all? Seems unlikely! Eight hundred years ago she was a young powerful caster with a villainous track record. She dabbled in forbidden ways, killed, terrorized, she was a monster, but some respects still all too human. Human enough to lust for a man and when she seduced a young fellow, she accidentally became pregnant. Yes!” he exclaimed as if Jessamine had been shocked. “We are all the product of an accident. She had twins, a boy and a girl. The girl, being naturally more gifted at casting, being female and all, was tolerable to Gran Gran and became an acceptable sidekick. The boy, however, Gran Gran found weak and a waste of time. He didn’t make it to the age of 9 before she killed him. The daughter grew and married into the Crakenthorpe family, had a son and two daughters, the son being the great great great grandfather of the Crakenthorpes today.

“And so the genes spread and branched off the great Semmelrogg tree until at last, we appeared. So now for the specifics!” He rubbed his hands and gave a little skip as he moved to the next part of the story. “First off, Theodosia Savernake. You probably know the most about her. A real witch after Gran Gran’s heart. If it wasn’t for White Cast laws I’m sure she’d be dueling every major caster in the hemisphere and becoming a threat to national security. She’s sly and she’s proud of it. She’s the personification of jealousy, which you surly know all about. In her youth, she fell just shy of your mother. Your mother was prettier, more gifted and Theodosia could not handle her being in the spot light. She felt that since she was the eldest, she should be the best, so to bend things in her favor she tortured your mother, no, not psychically, mentally. No casting, no potions, just persistent evil. With your mother out of the way, she went to better herself, aspiring to become the most powerful caster of her time. She still hates your mother, and is a relentless monster, who probably wont stop until your mother is dead. Not unlike what she did to her husbands! She just lost her tenth. They all committed suicide. Poor poor Bertram…”

Jessamine flinched. They all committed suicide?

“They were all gold diggers, of course, but they couldn’t survive her. Anyway, never trust her, never let her words get to you, she cares only for herself. She hates me especially since I’m the only Semmelrogg who can match wits with her. One of the many reasons for protection, heh. Eee,” he said pulling his collar like he was hot.

“Who next, who next. Well, uh, Grimwald! He’s a character, isn’t he? But he’s quite self explanatory. He pretty much wears his emotions on his sleeve. He’s a wrathful, arrogant prick who holds grudges and isn’t shy about revenge. Don’t give him a reason to want you dead. He will kill you. If it comes down to it, I’d rather Theodosia kill me. She’d quickly get me out of the way, Grimwald… he has a personal obligation to make his victim want to die. I don’t want to know what he did to Horace…”

Jess twitched, desperately wanting to tell him what she heard at diner. But would they kill her for telling?

Larkin laughed at her obvious distress.

“What? You over hear something?”

It was like he knew.

“Uh… they, uh…”

“Thanks for telling,” he warmly smiled. “I know! Oh, I know. I’m not an idiot! You can tell them that! Anyway, Grimwald, Grimwald. Typical Crakenthorpe. He’s not really original. But Ambrose! Was that a shocker! He had always been rebellious, but what teenager isn’t, eh? But at 18, the first thing he did with his adult hood was get a complete makeover! Grimwald would have killed him if he wasn’t his only son! Oh, yes, that reminds me. Grimwald’s wife was… illegally wedded. He used a philter on her, you see. Had her spell bound for 10 years. He forgot to dose her one night and she ran out on him screaming. Anyway, back to Ambrose. Being a Crakenthorpe, and coveting sons so dearly, Grimwald didn’t kill him, just disowned him. Ambrose hopped around casinos, fancy hotels and the like, spending all his money.

“Then, lemme see. Sophronia…”

Jessamine perked up.

“Yes. This is an important one. I think we’d all like to make it through this alive! Sophronia is the family psychopath. Just about every generation of Semmelrogg has one. She’s and amazing caster but saves her tricks mostly for escaping the law. When it comes to killing, she very much prefers knives. Don’t catch her attention. Ignore her, but not too obviously. I’d lend you an amulet or some quartz crystals but I’m kind of using them.

“Then there are her siblings. Magdalena… she was once a looker you know, well, compared to most Semmelroggs, but when she married Willoughby Fisk, he spoiled her rotten and well look at her! She’s completely delusional about it too, she doesn’t realize how hideous she’s grown, or how disgusting her children are. In her mind, she has the perfect family. And Reuben, he’s just pathetic. It’s his wife and step daughter who are really the headliners for that little group. Yvette is a gold digger, obviously. I don’t think they have slept together once. She’s like a less intelligent Theodosia, not half as witty and her behavior is plainly just an act. She’s a mean castor too, comes from a good family.

“Oh and Gideon. Boy,” Larkin laughed. “He’s the family’s pride and joy. He gave up his wealth, all his material possessions to take on the traditional Semmelrogg life style of eating lost pets and children. It’s an old past time, but a well respected one by this lot.”

“Finally, dear brother Barnabas. Everyone just calls him cousin Grabby. I guess you and Ambrose can call him uncle Grabby. Anyway, he’s a collector of oddities. His house is filled with piles of magical artifacts and cursed relics. He’s kinda a klepto.

“You noticed his hands right? How couldn’t you? That is the Robe of Hands, original name right? He got it for free. The previous owner found it creepy and useless. It converts his entire body into an infinite amount of hands. Watch him walk some time, It’s creepy. He’s hand propelled. Zero feet.”

“Uhm… what about Horace?” Jess cut in. Larkin raised a pointed finger with an “Ahhhh…” before leaping into more pacing.

“Horace is the family’s black sheep. He and Grimwald were at first considered sacred to the Crakenthorpes. Two sons in two years! Wonderful! But Horace was… Horace was… good,” his voice rumbled at good, making it sound scary, or evil.

“He ran away and became a White Cast. He married into a very powerful rival family of ours and studied natural magics, magics that work in harmony with nature and the cosmos instead of bending them. It’s believed that non natural magic will erode the magic supply and leave us dry within the next century! Hah! Magic ebbs and flows naturally over time, blaming it on us is silly. But back to the matter at hand, he was a White Cast! A good man! He worked for government and charities, he was almost saint like! It was the biggest insult the Semmelrogg family had ever received. Almost everyone tried to kill him at one point or another, but he was too well protected, kind of like how I am now with all my little trinkets. He survived a good 20 years before he just… disappeared. A week later, so did his wife. Not wanting to be jailed, none of the Semmelroggs owned up to it. Though it is obvious who did it.” He curved his thumb and pointer finger into a C and held it in front of his face and scowled.

“Any other questions?”

“… The White Casts…”

“Dear, you really do know nothing! The White Casts have been in power for a century and a half with their equality for all, power to the people, liberal pishpoosh. The old families used to run the show in the old days, but the people rose against them and established the White Casts. We’ve had to watch our backs ever since. All our past hobbies have now been made illegal, so we must be sneaky about them. It’s such a pain.”

Hobbies like killing people? Jessamine wondered.

“Semmelroggs like to consider ourselves traditionalists, trying to conserve the ways of the past. Really, we just want to do everything our way and not be badgered about it!

“Any questions now?”

Jessamine shook her head, taking it all in.

“Well then that’s your family!” Larkin cried, spreading his arms like Tada. Jess sat terrified. “That’s your family!” kept echoing over and over again in her head. Larkin dropped his arms.

“You’re really odd, you know that? You sure you’re a Semmelrogg?”

Jessamine nodded stiffly.

“… So what about your side of the tale. Want to switch places?” he said indicating the chair. Jessamine slid up and stood in the middle of the room. Larkin leaned in his seat, his leg lazily tossed atop of his knee.

“Well…” Jessamine had always been awful at giving presentations. “Uh… my mom, uh, is really sick, uh, well, in her mind, she’s fine otherwise. She never really paid attention to me, she uh, was always staring at nothing… crying, uh, sometimes. She sometimes accused me of, uh, wanting to hurt her and she’d pull my hair and… clothes…” her eyes tilted from the floor up at Larkin who waved for her to continue.

“My, uh, father would try to help her and uh, most of the time he did. I didn’t really ever… play with them. And Theodosia sent me Christmas gifts and papa would get angry and it ruined every, uh, Christmas.” She sniffed her nose loudly.

“Then mom said I needed to go to H-Hinchliffe’s, a school for uhm, well, crazy people but I wasn’t and everyone was screaming and I just… stopped-”

“Stopped what?”

“Stopped… I taught myself how to stop thinking. I’d just go blank and then nothing could hurt me.”

“You mean… your thoughts couldn’t hurt you…”

It was like seeing a psychiatrist. Jess looked up confused before shrugging and looking at the wall.

“… And your father?” Larkin asked, bringing her back to reality.

“Papa… he loved me, it’s just mom’s sick and… he tried to be with me, but then he got sick. Uhm, Theodosia cursed him or something. I had to take care of both of them and I, uh, missed a year of school helping. And uh, yeah.”

Larkin stared at her silent for a long while and she fidgeted, looking around, always aware of his eyes.

“What are you?” he asked finally.

‘What?”

“You are either the best actress ever and beat Theodosia’s wit ten fold, or you’re really just… innocent.”

“Yeah,” said Jess slowly, not following.

“Semmelroggs aren’t innocent! Semmelroggs are, corrupt and sinful! What is wrong with you?”

“You’re a Semmelrogg…” Jessamine pointed out.

“I’m not all sunshine, Jess. I constantly sell out my own flesh and blood for money. There’s a lot to be said for that.”

Jess bit her lip, not knowing what to say.

“And here I thought you were going to be boring. Well Jess, I’ve really got to start writing. Got to jot this down while it’s fresh in my head.” He got up and led Jessamine to the door. “Good night, sweet Jessamine! And good luck!” The door snapped shut. Good luck? Jess thought with a crinkled nose.

Larkin’s rude dispelling of Jess lessened her opinion of him some, and she turned around sullenly to search for her room.