Key of Holly, Lock of Hawthorn: Key of Holly

It was rather a lovely morning. The winter was passing, leaving behind dirty drifts of snow and muddy, broken ground, but the bright white sun was cheerful and rather elegant as it fell into the library of Uthcaire Manor through the tall windows, now that the curtains were drawn. Charlotte stood by the window, feeling the wind worm its way in through the frame, and saw two of her brothers fooling around in whatever snow remained in one of the low inclines left in the sprawling grounds after Capability Brown had been at it somewhere in the previous century. 

She tutted and turned away. She had aged out of tomfoolery of that sort much younger than her brothers had. Perhaps they never would. She turned back towards her guest, though it was difficult to even look at her. 

"Really, not even a spot of tea?" she asked. "You need not show yourself to a servant if I call one."

"I am perfectly fine, pet," said Esserve of the Holly and Hawthorn. 

"Well, as you wish."

Charlotte could hear the bitterness in her own voice, and crossed her arms over her stomach. No-one, not even the Fair Lords of the Sunshine, could usually unsettle her so. But things were different now that...

No beating around the bush would make the fact go away. Esserve was now her magickal patron, and each of them owed one another in terribly annoying and unofficial ways. It was just like inviting an aunt over. You had made the invitation and could scarcely withdraw it. They, on the other hand, could scarcely refuse. Therefore, no matter how little you liked one another, you were no inextricably bound to at least visit a few of the neighbours together, and you never quite knew how much of a cat your aunt was planning to be. Except Esserve looked like nobody's aunt.

She broke before Esserve did. "What can I do for you?"

Esserve had chosen to appear as she had in Bath--tall, leonine woman in a man's riding suit tailored to her figure, her thick her coiled in a fashionable heap, with high cheekbones and a faintly golden complexion, her lips curved in a smile that was either taunting or pleasant, depending on how well you knew her. She made Charlotte feel small and young, which she detested. 

"Can't I look in on my favourite human?" Esserve laughed, melodious and deep. She pushed herself off the armchair she had been lounging on, and crossed over to her. Charlotte instinctively stepped away from the window, even though her brothers would not have been able to see them here in the shadows of the house. "Darling," said Esserve, and took Charlotte's hand. Charlotte flinched, but did not pull away, as Esserve turned her hand palm upwards and covered it with her own. 

"Please," said Charlotte. "No more scars. You have already ruined me for evening gowns."

But instead of the sting and burn she had endured when Esserve had marked her, Charlotte only felt something light and warm fall on her palm, and when Esserve pulled off her long-fingered hand (so like the paw of some powerful beast), there was a key lain across it. The teeth were of brass, and the handle of wood, carved to resemble holly leaves with a bunch of berries in relief. It was nearly the length of her hand. 

"There is an old gate on the other side of the lake," said Esserve. "Covered in holly, surrounded by hawthorn--"

"Of course, it would be--" Charlotte muttered.

"You must visit by moonlight on the night before the equinox, and you will find the lock this key fits hanging on the gate, Use it only once, and the door will remain open to you until the following spring."

"I see," said Charlotte. "Is this a gift or a task?"

"That is up to you," said Esserve with a toothy grin, and leaned over. Charlotte was too startled to flinch back from the soft kiss of blessing her patron laid on her forehead. 

Charlotte turned the key in her hand and looked up to ask more, but Esserve was already gone, the heat of her kiss still lingering on Charlotte's skin.