Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Since we were practically running—Goody Albright could really move when she wanted to—we got to the Red Lion pretty quickly.
“There.” Goody Albright stopped in front of the broad front porch which extended the entire length of her B&B and flung out an arm.
For a moment, I wasn’t quite sure what was going on. It was twilight and the lighting was very dim. There were no flames shooting out of the windows of the bed and breakfast though there did seem to be an unusually large number of people on the front porch. They seemed to be doing something, but what? I squinted and took a few steps forward.
Then I heard a low groan and someone gasped in a musical voice,
“That’s right—give it to me, Sherman! Oh Goddess, that feels so good!”
“Oh my!” I breathed, putting a hand to my mouth as I finally realized what was going on. “They’re…”
“They’re all up there fucking. Please excuse my language,” Goody Albright said tartly. “All of my guests—do you know who they are, Celia?”
“Er, no. Sorry.” I shrugged uncertainly. “Who are they?”
“This week the Red Lion is hosting The Council of Wisdom—an assembly of elder witches and warlocks who are the oldest and most esteemed members of the magical community. They travel around the world, judging the most difficult cases in the magical court system. They are revered for their wisdom and restraint!” Goody Albright went on. “Not a single one of them is under five hundred years old. And now just look at them!”
I bit my lip. My eyes had adjusted to the gloom and I could see that an extremely elderly orgy was happening on the Red Lion’s front porch. No wonder Goody Albright was upset! The scene reminded me of something, but I couldn’t quite place what it was…
“I see that they’re, er, getting busy,” I said to her. “But what does it have to do with me?”
“Well, remember how I came into The Lost Lamb earlier to get the tarts you’d promised to hold back for me?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Yes?” I said, making it a question.
“Well, I fed them to my guests as a special treat during their sunset and stargazing assembly—they’re supposed to be watching the evening stars come out right now. I even gave up my own tart so that everyone could have one,” she said. “And not long after they finished them, this started!”
She gestured again to the porch where a lot of vigorous thrusting and musical moaning was going on. Because of course since they’d all eaten the Golden Warbler tarts, they were all singing instead of speaking. It was a sexual, musical, geriatric mess up there!
“Are you saying my tarts did this to them?” I protested. “But I never…”
I trailed off because I had suddenly remembered what the scene reminded me of—it looked an awful lot like the Pilgrim orgy Malik had shown me in his memories of what had happened to Hester, my ancestress, after everyone ate her gooseberry pie.
“Oh, no!” I exclaimed. “But how is this possible? I didn’t do anything on purpose!”
“I’m afraid this is my fault,” Malik said, stepping forward.
“And who might you be?” Goody Albright frowned up at him. “You look familiar—are you the Demon in the portrait I gave to Celia?”
“I am. She freed me from it,” he said, nodding. “I am Malik, professional Incubus at your service.” He took Goody Albright’s hand and bowed over it gallantly, but she snatched it back at once.
“Well, Malik, if this is your doing, you have a lot to answer for! These witches and warlocks are extremely old and fragile—their bones are brittle! I’ll be lucky if I don’t have to call Madam Healer for the whole lot of them once this is over.”
“Forgive me,” Malik said sincerely. “I helped Celia make the pear tarts and I’m afraid the fact that I was, er, stimulating her mentally caused her magic to manifest in her baking.”
I thought of how horny I’d been the whole time we were making the tarts—because every time he touched me, I got dirty images of the two of us going at it in different ways.
“It’s the same thing that happened to Hester,” I muttered. “My longing and desire went into the tarts the same way hers went into her gooseberry pie!”
“Since you now appear to know what happened, do you have an antidote?” Goody Albright asked me. “I hate to blame you, dear, but this is probably happening all over town,” she added. “I do believe everyone in Hidden Hollow ate at least one of your tarts!”
“I’m afraid you’re right. God!” I put my hands to my face. “I’m so sorry! I never meant for this to happen!”
“I take it that means you don’t have an antidote then?” Goody Albright asked unhappily.
“The only cure for unrequited longing and lust is to be with the one you love. Or the one you lust for,” Malik said. “I’m afraid this will simply have to run its course.”