The Boy With the Sharp Teeth/Epilogue
"And why do we have to have this ugly chair again?" Sana asked with her arms folded over her chest as she watched Zach set down the chair in the corner of the living room.
Zach gave her a pointed look over his shoulder before turning back to the chair and adjusting it one last time. Sana nearly rolled her eyes, but refrained. The chair was crude to say the least. To her it looked as if it belonged in some old hermit's cabin not in her modernly decorated living room. Stepping closer to it, she scanned it carefully noting the intricate handmade carvings along the legs and back of the chair.
"This," Zach pointed to the chair. "Is a witch's chair."
Sana jumped back. "A what?!"
"Ok just hear me out." Zach held up his hands at her.
Sana glared at him. "Zach," she said warningly.
"Listen, just listen," he said soothingly, taking her by the shoulders and gently leading her to the couch. Sitting down, Zach faced her with a tentative smile. "We have to have it sweetheart. All members of the Katzie clan have one in their homes."
"Why? What does it do? And why do-"
Zach grabbed her hand in his and held it, letting his thumb swipe tenderly back and forth across the back of her hand. "Let me explain," he began gently. "Remember when I told you there was a witch that lived in Antor Falls," he waited for her to nod. "Well, her and her family has lived there as long as the Katzie people have been here. Technically we moved to this area for the witch's family. For some reason, each clan has a witch that kind of governs them."
"Governs?" she repeated, the skepticism audible in her tone. "Can they control you?"
Zach made a face and Sana could see he was struggling with the answer. "Yes and no," he said shaking his head. "In a way yes they do, since we pledge ourselves to the witch's powers and ultimately her decisions, but its all by choice," he rushed to say when he saw the alarm on her face. "We don’t just blindly follow her, we choose to."
Sana shook her head, she was more confused than ever. Everything he said was just contradicting itself. She couldn’t imagine Zach, her headstrong husband, ever following anyone.
"Ok for example," Zach's eyes brightened as he considered a way to explain it better. "My dad left the clan, right?"
Sana nodded hesitantly.
"He chose not to live with his clan and subsequently not to live under the witch's governance and protection."
"But you do?" she asked frowning.
A smile broke out over his face and he scratched the back of his head. "Yes well, I met the witch when I joined the millitary. Its something most of the witches do, not all, but most. And we got a long very well. Her mother is older and still lives in Antor, but we all know she will die soon and her daughter will come and take her place."
"So…you don’t mind living under the witch's rules because you get along with her?"
"Dammit, I'm really fucking this up. Ok, let's just make this as simple as possible. We live in the witch's territory, and technically the entire Katzie clan are consider her wolves. Yes, yes I know how that sounds. In some old ancient scripture or something, we are her army to call forth whenever she goes to battle. No, no its not like that sweetheart just listen. Witches are insanely powerful antisocial hermits. They are lazy and have major misanthropic issues. It would be hard pressed to get one of them to come out of their house much less fight. But witches provide one thing that make dealing with them worth it. Just by living in their territory they keep dark things out. Every continent on earth has invisible territories controlled by witches. Just by being there kind of marks their territory like a wolf pack would theirs. It's absolutely vital that each witch has a territory."
"And if it didn’t?"
"I promise you, sweetheart," he said putting his hands on both of her shoulders. "It's best if you never know."
"And the chair?" she said pointing to the thing.
"Oh yeah well," he grinned sheepishly. "The chair is a clan custom. Its like a symbol to the witch of your loyalty and a sign of respect to show her she is always invited."
"Don't tell me…"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Whenever she wants she could just pop up in that chair, but sweetheart listen to me," he tried to assure her. "I have never seen or heard of her doing that before. The current witch is old and could care less from what I heard."
"And the new one?" she prodded "The one you supposedly get a long with so well," she said sourly.
Zach hung his head in a tired sigh before looking at her. "Sweetheart, I promise its nothing to worry over. If it hadn't been for her during those years I would have went insane," he said truthfully. "Every time I felt depressed thinking of you moving on with your life without me or with another, she always told me to be patient. She said you were just trying to find yourself and that every day your thoughts strayed a little bit closer and closer to me too. She told me she saw my future with you and not to worry. I would have lost my mind without her, sweetheart."
His story pierced at her soul and a little at her guilt. How could she argue at that. Nodding she sighed. "Fine. Well, at least tell me her name."
Zach hesitated and turned to the chair before turning to look out the large living room windows. Finally he decided to speak. "Ivy Lévesque and she's coming back soon--I can feel it."