The Nowhere Witch (Tales of Xest Book 2)

by Donna Augustine

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he said. A few stragglers were gathered behind him, all sneering in my direction, as if they’d been waiting for a moment like this to gang up.

  Great. Now he had a group. Still, I wasn’t backing down.

  “Oh yes, we will see.” I still couldn’t defend myself worth a damn with magic, but if he pushed me too far, called my bluff, I wasn’t above punching him in the face. I might be on the small side, but I was strong and scrappy. Hopefully the rest of them wouldn’t jump me.

  My offender was suddenly at a loss for words as he looked over my shoulder. With a last sneer in my direction, he walked away, his little group dispersing with him.

  I should’ve been relieved I had backup too, but this wasn’t how I wanted to end my day. There was one person who could clear the street, and I’d already had enough humiliation. I didn’t need Hawk as an audience, saving the damsel who’d be better off in Salem.

  “I didn’t need your help. I had it covered.” I spun and found a tall, dark-haired man standing there, but not Hawk. Oscar, who was still smiling in spite of my tone, appeared to be the man who’d come to my defense this time. I was just going to alienate everyone today, wasn’t I?

  “Excuse me for helping out a friend,” Oscar replied, his soft hazel eyes gleaming.

  I gave him a humbled half-smile. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…” I threw up my hands. I probably didn’t have to spell it out to one of Hawk’s friends.

  “Understandable, given the situation,” he said, laughing.

  Oscar had the kind of laugh that came often and easy. I could use a little of his levity right now, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here to reinforce the troops.

  “Are you going to try to run me out, too?”

  “He’s my friend, but he’s also an asshole, and this is coming from someone who’s held that title enough to be a reigning champ. But no, I’m not taking sides in this fight.” He took a step away from me but waved a hand, motioning for me to follow. “Come on, you look like you’ve had a rough day. Let me buy you a drink.”

  “I don’t know. I kind of just wanted to—”

  “Head to Zab’s and crawl into a ball and cry? I think my offer is better, at least by a little bit, don’t you?” He held up his fingers, leaving the slightest bit of air between them.

  I started walking. “Fine. But just so you know, I wasn’t going to cry. I was going to crawl into a ball and have tea, thank you very much.” I had a rule against crying, and it wouldn’t be broken because of one bad day filled with a lot of sneers and refusals.

  “That’s only because you don’t cry,” he said, looking at me like he knew things. “But if you were the type to cry, it would be game on right now.”

  It was unclear whether he was trying to tease me out of a bad mood or just amuse himself. Either way, it was working, so I’d take it.

  “How do you know I don’t cry?” I asked. No matter how he wanted to portray it, he didn’t know things. We’d never been that close, and I was a closed book. I kept it that way until I was sure you weren’t the type of person who dog-eared the pages or broke the spine. I’d taken too many dings to let just anyone flip my pages about.

  “I was there after one of your attacks, remember? You know, the whole…” He put his hands to his throat and made a choking noise.

  Oh yes, what a nice reenactment of the night an invisible monster nearly choked me to death. Clearly, there was nothing off the table when it came to Oscar’s personal amusement.

  “How could I forget with such a glorious reminder?” I asked.

  “If you weren’t all weepy-eyed after that one, pretty good odds you don’t cry easily.”

  Maybe he did know a few things. He was definitely observant.

  The longer we walked, two things became very apparent. One, Oscar didn’t have that annoying habit of Hawk’s, where he’d be a few feet ahead of me. At least Hawk hadn’t corrupted his friend in that way. Two, just like Hawk, people cleared the street for Oscar. It wasn’t quite the same “make a break for it” kind of berth, but there was definitely an area of magical respect, you might call it. Or maybe plain old fear, because when I looked around, the nods were still coming but the sneers had stopped almost completely. Now I had to decipher friend from foe by impartiality. It was an improvement. I was a tough girl, as Oscar had implied, but I wasn’t made of steel. I’d taken enough dirty looks to fill my glass ten times over today.

  “Hey, do you know what a Nowhere witch is? I’ve never heard of it. Is that a different name for Whimsy witch or something?”

  There was a heavy lag before he answered. “You already heard about that, huh? Guess it’s not a surprise.”

  “What’s it mean?”

  “I’ll tell you, but only because you’re not a crier, so don’t prove me wrong.” He glanced at me, seeking confirmation he wouldn’t have a bawling mess on his hands.

  “Like you said, I don’t cry. Now tell me.”

  “It’s what people call witches who don’t belong anywhere. You’ve got no home. You’ve got nowhere. Typically it’s been reserved for witches who don’t have any magic left because they can’t stay in Xest any longer.”

  Whoa. That one hit a nerve. I hadn’t thought anything he could say would make me actually want to cry, so why were my eyes burning? I wasn’t going to go back on my word, but this was a little tougher than I’d thought. I might still have magic, not that I’d been using it, but I didn’t have a home. I was straddling two worlds right now and didn’t seem to belong in either.

  “Hey, you’re not getting funny on me, right?” Oscar asked, watching me as if he sensed the little swarm of bees attacking my eyes.

  “Not at all. Just curious why they would call me that.” I rubbed the back of my hand across my nose while clearing my throat.

  “Maybe they think you won’t last long after that wall you made in the Unsettled Lands. They probably think you’re nearly used up.” Oscar shrugged, as if he didn’t think that would be a problem.

  I tripped but caught myself fast enough that I didn’t need any help staying on my feet. What if they were right? What if I didn’t have much magic left? I hadn’t even tested out my magic in months, if you didn’t count accidentally jumping into every puddle I’d seen. That hadn’t worked before I left Xest, so I hadn’t worried about it not working then, too.

  But shit. What if I had fought to get back here and I was running on fumes?

  “Hey, you’re tough, remember?” Oscar reminded me.

  “I’m fine.” I was, or would be soon.

  “Okay, well, you better be. If you let what those losers said get to you, I’m going to have to rethink my opinion. I don’t like that many people, and I was just on the brink of thinking you might be okay, but if you let some ass take you down that easy, I might be wrong.”

  He might’ve still been talking, but there were more important matters. Could I still do magic? Had I run out? Rabbit had told me that most witches did. Why would I be different?

  “Tippi, what are you doing?” Oscar asked, his voice firm and loud.

  “Oh, nothing,” I said, tucking my hand back in my pocket. This wasn’t the time to experiment.

  “You didn’t run out,” he said.

  He might know some things, and he might be perceptive, but that had been an easy one.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because that wall would’ve wiped out nearly anyone who wasn’t an infinite. The fact that you’re standing here breathing tells me you still have magic, but if you’d like me to confirm it…”

  He grabbed my wrist and yanked off my glove, wrapping his hand around mine. The sizzle of magic intermingling was instant.

  He dropped my hand. “You’re fine. More than fine. You might have more than is good for you.” He handed me back my glove while shaking his head. “I knew he was underplaying it,” Oscar said, more to himself than me.

  “What are you talk
ing about?” I asked, clasping my hands together, wishing there were some way to self-test.

  “Ask Hawk.” He laughed, leaving me wondering while he opened the door.

  I looked up, realizing we’d stopped in front of a building with darkened windows and no sign. It was a bar of sorts. Hawk had brought me here what seemed like ages ago to meet some of his people. It was the only place I hadn’t begged for a job in today, mostly because it didn’t look like it was open for customers, or people that hadn’t been stamped and approved by Hawk.

  The place was dimly lit, with a scattering of candles around the room and a smoky haze that seemed to be a permanent fixture in the place.

  There were only a handful of people inside. A couple of guys sitting in the corner that looked up as we walked in, who nodded in our direction, and a man wiping down the bar. He had a face that looked like it had been dried and tanned a thousand years ago, black hair pulled back, adding to the severity of his expression.

  Oscar grabbed a stool, and I took the one beside him.

  “Oscar, what can I get you two tonight?” the barman asked as he gave me a once-over.

  “Zark, I’ll have an ale, and something hot for my friend here.”

  Boiling sounded good right about now. I wasn’t sure anything else would remove the permafrost from my limbs.

  “How about a smokin’ mordi?” Zark asked me.

  “It’s like a hot toddy in Rest,” Oscar said.

  “That would be wonderful,” I replied.

  “And a couple of those buttered buns you always have stashed in back.”

  Buttered buns? This was definitely better than being curled up in the corner of Zab’s couch.

  “How many places did you try to get hired at today?” Oscar asked.

  “All of them. Every place I could find,” I answered, and didn’t even mind. My attention was on the plate of buns heading our way. They looked like some sort of cinnamon bun, dripping in butter.

  The steaming drink Zark placed next to it smelled like heaven and tasted even better. I’d had a hot toddy before, but this tasted more like melted caramel.

  I was halfway through a bun when Oscar turned to Zark and asked, “Hey, weren’t you looking for some help around here?”

  I sipped on the smokin’ mordi, trying to get that last bite down while I nudged Oscar with my boot under the bar. Zark wasn’t going to hire me, and I was hoping to have a relaxing drink without a side of humiliation.

  “I’m always hiring on and off, but not right now,” he said, his eyes darting in my direction and then back to Oscar, sending a signal that could’ve been shot off by a flare gun.

  Yep. As expected. Too bad the reason wasn’t as apparent. Was it because I was from Rest? Did they think I was incapable of doing hard work? Or did they think all Resters were stupid? If I just knew the reason…

  “But word was you are looking for some help,” Oscar said, as if I hadn’t kicked him.

  I kicked him again, harder this time.

  “I haven’t seen any new help,” Oscar said.

  Did Oscar have feeling in his shins?

  “Oscar, let it go. He knows who I am and he doesn’t want me.” I stared at the half-eaten bun. It didn’t taste anywhere near as good as I’d thought a few moments ago. Actually, he’d clearly over-buttered it, which I hadn’t thought possible. I’d take the rest back to Zab’s. Maybe they had a to-go cup for the smokin’ mordi? There was a good chance both would taste better again once I got the hell out of here.

  “Everyone knows who you are,” Zark said to me before turning back to Oscar. “I just can’t do it.”

  I gave a short nod. I really should’ve followed my gut and gone back to Zab’s. Although I wasn’t completely empty-handed. I took the bun and put it on a napkin to wrap up for later. I’d have to leave the smokin’ mordi behind.

  “I think you can,” Oscar said, with a serious tone that was at complete odds with his earlier playfulness.

  “Oscar, he doesn’t want to hire me. Leave it be. If he doesn’t want me, I don’t want the job.” And I didn’t want to eat here either. But I’d eat his bun somewhere else. I put it in my pocket as I got up from the stool.

  Zark was shaking his head and holding up his hand. “Now hang on a second. It’s not that I don’t want to hire you. You did us a solid over in the Unsettled Lands with the wall. It’s just—”

  “I’ll take the heat for it,” Oscar said.

  Why would there be any heat with hiring me? I sat back down, watching the expressions warring on Zark’s face as he and Oscar were about to square off. Zark might’ve wanted to hire me. I was afraid to say anything that would stop this from unfolding. What was going on here?

  “It’s on you? You’re vouching?” Zark asked Oscar.

  “Yes. That’s what I just said.” Oscar stared squarely back at him.

  Zark turned back to me. “Then you’ve got yourself a job. Be here tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Are you saying you’ll hire me?” I asked, not believing what I was hearing.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m saying. If Oscar here is willing to shoulder the heat, I’d be happy to. We owe you a debt.”

  “Shoulder the heat for what? Why is there any heat involved with hiring me?” He’d just said it wasn’t the wall, so what was the issue?

  “Hawk is trying to run you out of Xest,” Zark said.

  “You mean no one will hire me because of Hawk?” My blood was simmering at the mere possibility.

  “Of course that’s what I mean. Even the people who don’t like him don’t want to cross him.” Zark was frowning at me, as if he doubted my intelligence for asking such a question.

  I jerked back as if I’d been punched. It sure felt that way right now. “Is Hawk telling people not to hire me?”

  Zark waved his hand in the air, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work like that here. Everyone knows he wants you out. Doesn’t need to be said.”

  I turned to Oscar. He didn’t confirm, but the shrug was enough to imply that it was his take too. Then there had been Musso earlier, trying to tell me to “stand my ground.” He’d suspected I’d have a problem as well.

  All the elation and excitement of getting a job two seconds ago deflated, like my celebration balloons had a run-in with a sticker bush. Had Hawk really done that? Did he want me gone so bad that he’d bar me from making a living? Being able to put a roof over my head and eat? Trying to have an honest go at a life in Xest?

  How was it possible to like someone, feel such loyalty to them, and then hate them so very much?

  Zark took another glance at me and then suddenly had some other things to handle in the back.

  “Hey, at least you still have a shit-ton of magic,” Oscar said, smiling and pointing to my drink. My smokin’ mordi, which had been losing its steam before, was boiling over the glass. Shit.

  I took the napkins and tried to stem the eruption.

  “Am I doing that?”

  “Just take a couple deep breaths and hold them. It won’t stop until you calm down.”

  I did as he said, and as he’d predicted, the drink stopped bubbling.

  “That’s never happened before,” I said as I tried to sop up the mess around the glass.

  “It’s normal. Usually happens at a younger age, but considering your history…” I must’ve looked stumped, because he continued. “Your magical muscles are growing, and you still don’t really have any practice controlling them.”

  “At least it’s hot again,” I said, then took a sip as I eyed up Oscar.

  The first time I met him was when he’d brought the magic tester gem to Hawk, and his arrogance and glib remarks had runneth over. Turned out he was a pretty nice guy. Maybe nicer than I even realized.

  “You didn’t just run into me on the street today, did you? You came to find me. You knew what Hawk was up to.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “I still don’t know if this was his plan or a happy happenstance for him, but I susp
ected you’d have an issue.”

  “Your friend is a jerk.”

  “Like I said, he can be.” Oscar spread his hands in a what can you do gesture.

  “Thanks, Oscar. You really helped me out.” It sucked that hugs weren’t acceptable in Xest.

  He shook his head. “Don’t go laying that halo on my head anytime soon. I have my own reasons.”

  “What would your reasons be to get me a job?” My desire to hug him was diminishing.

  He leaned back in his seat with his drink, a small smile on his lips. “I have them. Don’t worry, though—no debt to be paid, at least not from you.”

  5

  I’d been avoiding the broker’s office, more specifically, the owner of the brokerage. Now I barged in, hoping to find Hawk here. The place was closed, but the door still opened for me, which meant he hadn’t revoked my key. How nice of him to allow me easy access here, considering he was trying to have me run out of Xest.

  The main office was empty, and so was the back room. The door upstairs wouldn’t open to his place unless he wanted it that way, which he wouldn’t. I could leave him a note, but a scathing memo didn’t pack the same punch as a good old rant in person.

  There was a pile of newsflash papers on Zab’s desk. That would certainly get him here, but then all of Xest would know my business—or more of it, anyway. There had been enough of it on display today.

  I wandered about the room I hadn’t set foot in for months. My table was still there, baskets in place, the flower still there as well. Was Zab watering my flower, or had Hawk hired someone else to come and do the sorting and they were tending it? I ignored the urge to throw the table onto its side at the thought. He could do whatever he wanted. Hawk and this place were in my rearview.

  The Helexorgomay’s gears churned, stopped, and then repeated a little faster. I glanced up at Helen, the wish machine that took up most of the upper wall. Some people found the sound of the ocean, or birds chirping in spring, soothing. Not me. This was the sound I’d missed. It reminded me of a screen door slamming in summer as you walked in your house after a long day, the sound of your family’s laughter and the familiar creak of a floorboard.