Witch of All Witches: Tales of Xest #4

by Donna Augustine

  “Does nothing bother you?” I asked, watching him crack his neck.

  “Certain things,” he said, and then smirked.

  Before I could ferret out what those things were, there was a knock at the back door.

  “Come in,” Hawk said.

  Zurdoch walked in. He shut the door behind him slowly and kept an eye on it even after he did, as if afraid he’d need to make a hasty exit.

  Did he think this was a trap of some sort?

  I got to my feet but didn’t approach him. Instead I moved to Hawk’s couch to give Zurdoch space.

  “I’m sorry about the initial potion. I hope you believe me when I say it wasn’t intentional.”

  He nodded. “Situations happen. Do you have the replacement?”

  I pointed to the vial on the table. “Feel free to sample it.”

  He uncorked it and took a small sniff. The smell was hard to imitate with anything found naturally in nature. Back in Rest, I would’ve said it smelled like a strange mix of nail polish remover and floral body wash.

  “It smells potent. You must be feeling better,” he said, lifting a brow.

  He’d clearly heard things, which was exactly what I was hoping for.

  “She does,” Hawk said.

  Zurdoch glanced at Hawk, but his attention reverted to me quickly. He stared a little too hard for me to believe there wasn’t talk of what was happening here.

  Zurdoch sniffed the potion again before he said, “I have unfortunate news. There’s no trace of anything left on the hill, so the options you were exploring there are no longer feasible.”

  He recorked the potion and placed it back on the table as if it were difficult.

  “I know. I asked you here to see if you had other information to trade.”

  “What kind?”

  “You know what happened? What I did?”

  He hesitated for a few seconds before briskly nodding, as if averse to admitting he had any knowledge.

  “Do you know if there are plans to rectify the situation and how?” I clasped my hands on my lap to stop them from fidgeting.

  His eyes flicked from Hawk to me and then around the room before landing back on the vial.

  “I’ve heard murmurs of things, that they aren’t sure what they want to do about the situation, but that is all. I can’t offer any real information.”

  I hadn’t had much hope for answers, so the disappointment wasn’t a huge letdown, and frustration was a feeling I was very familiar with.

  “I’ll be leaving now,” Zurdoch said. He took a long look at the potion on the table before heading to the door.

  “Zurdoch, take the potion. I have no use for it,” I said.

  His lips parted as his gaze returned to the vial. “Are you sure?”

  “I am. Consider it a gift.” I knew what it was like to want a different life. If I could help him, I would.

  “Thank you. I won’t forget this.” He took the vial, nodding as he backed out of the room, as if I’d become some sort of royalty with that one act.

  Hawk was silent.

  “What? Do you think that was the wrong thing to do?” I could tell something was bothering him.

  “No. I had something else I wanted to tell you.” He locked gazes with me. “Have you ever heard of a witch named Giselle?”

  “No. I don’t think so. Why?”

  “I’ve been tracking down some leads for a while. You need to go and talk to her. She might have some answers on how this all got started, with you having magic from the hill.”

  I’d watched his every nuance as he answered. He didn’t fear heaven or hell, but some witch was making him unsettled?

  “Who is she?”

  “I have my suspicions, but it’s better if you find out from her, because I’m not sure how accurate my information is. I only know that she might have answers for you.”

  I’d given up on answers about my origins a while ago, telling myself it was better to not know. Now here he was, dangling a carrot of information in front of me. Considering what was going on, my current predicament, could I afford to not go? Even if it was something bad, anything that might help unravel my situation might be good. I couldn’t afford to let this opportunity go, even if I didn’t want to know.

  “I can take you to her or I can tell you how to get to her. It’s your choice.”

  A month ago, it wouldn’t have been a question. I would’ve gone by myself without a thought.

  “Do you have the time to come?”

  It was a big step, willingly letting him in this much, and each inch was making me edgy, like I shouldn’t be doing this at all. I had no idea what this witch might reveal.

  He paused, as if he knew exactly what I was offering him.

  “I can take you this afternoon.”

  As soon as he agreed, it was like someone had hit the gas pedal on a straight path to a cliff. My heart kicked into overdrive, my hands grew sweaty, and my chest was tight.

  “When we get there, though, what if she… Maybe I should talk to her alone.”

  “Don’t you get it yet? I don’t care what she says. It won’t matter to me. But if you need more time, I’ll wait outside.”

  I nodded, wanting to believe he wouldn’t, and yet…

  “Thanks.”

  36

  For the next three hours, all I did was think about what Giselle would say, all the horrible things that might come out, and then imagine Hawk’s horrified stare as he heard. No matter how many times I reminded myself that he wouldn’t be with me when I spoke to her, it didn’t matter.

  What if he was close enough to overhear? He’d never want to speak to me again once he realized I was evil. I should’ve said I’d go alone. Asking now would make it so much worse than if I’d taken the offer in the first place.

  Hawk walked through the office and looked my way before heading into the back room.

  I got up, grabbing my jacket.

  “Good luck,” Zab said.

  “She doesn’t need luck. It’ll be fine,” Bibbi said.

  Musso gave me a grunt. “You are who you are, kid. No one can change that.” He went back to work, as if nothing important was about to happen.

  Hawk was waiting for me in the back room.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  It would be so easy to say maybe we should wait, and then, in a week, right as he was walking out the door to some other appointment, ask him to scribble down directions. I could conceivably go another few years like that, at least a few months. I’d find out what happened, what kind of monster I was, and no one would be any the wiser but me.

  But the truth has a way of working itself into the light of day. Sometimes it does stay hidden for weeks, months, even years, but then it shows its face. Everyone would see me for what I was. No. Whatever horrible things I had in me, I’d rather they come to the surface now.

  Plus, I didn’t have the time to wait. At any moment, the fruits of my labors at the hill would come back and poison me.

  “I’m ready. Let’s go.” Or as ready as I could be.

  The place was a good distance past the outskirts of town, beyond the tree line that would bring you into the mountains but where it was still sparse enough to build a small, cozy house, like the one before us. It made me think of the story of Hansel and Gretel.

  Please don’t let that be a sign.

  “Whatever it is, it will be okay. It doesn’t matter, not to me.” Hawk gave my hand a squeeze before moving to lean against a large tree, settling in to wait.

  I took a step toward the door and stopped. I turned back toward him, not knowing exactly what I was doing other than wanting him there with me. It was the strangest feeling. My entire life, I’d preferred to be alone, to not lean on anyone or anything. A lot had changed.

  “I want you to come with me.”

  “Are you sure?” He straightened off the tree.

  “No, but I want you there anyway. Whatever she says, we’ll hear it together. I just hope…
”

  That she doesn’t say I’m evil to the bone and run fast and hard away from me. I didn’t say any of this, but the way he was looking at me, the way he was walking over slowly, as if I’d run, he must’ve read it on my face.

  “I don’t know how many more ways I can say it, but I’ll keep on saying it until you believe me. There is nothing that she can tell us that will scare me.”

  “How can you say that when we don’t know what we’ll find out?” He couldn’t make claims against the unknown, no matter how much I wished they were true.

  He cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. “Because how you came to be, where you came from, it doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t change anything. There is nothing I can find out from this woman that will make one bit of difference between us.”

  The door opened, and a woman who looked to be somewhere in her thirties, with jet-black hair and eyes the same shape as mine, stared at me. There was no doubt we were related. A young aunt, perhaps? A cousin?

  “Are you two planning on coming in anytime soon or just lurking outside my door indefinitely?” She looked me over slowly, from the tip of my boots to my crazy hair. She nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  She left the door open and took a few steps inside.

  Hawk put his hand to the small of my back, not urging me forward or doing anything other than lending me his support. I’d never had anything like what he’d offered in my life. I took a deep breath, mentally clinging to his promise that no matter what was said, it wouldn’t change anything.

  I glanced back at him again before I took another step.

  “You know firsthand how stubborn I am. Do you really think I’ll change my mind because of something this one says?” he asked.

  That was a good point. He listened to no one.

  I walked into the house, knowing who I was, hoping that wouldn’t change drastically, that I wouldn’t walk out shattered.

  “You know who I am?” I asked the woman, who was something of a moving target as she fluttered around the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if it was an idleness issue or she was dreading this conversation as much as I was, but I had a feeling it was the latter. That didn’t bode well for my afternoon.

  “Like I said, I’ve been waiting for you. I can offer you some tea, but I don’t keep much else stocked.”

  Her lean form attested to the fact she probably didn’t eat much.

  “That would be nice. Thank you,” I said.

  Hawk waved off the offer.

  We took a seat at her table, herbs hanging from the ceiling and baskets on the mantel filled with other dried plants I didn’t recognize. This woman knew her way around potions from the looks of her supplies and the cauldrons lining her shelf. She put a storage store to shame with all the shapes and sizes of vials and containers.

  I began to second-guess my acceptance of tea. At least Hawk had declined, so one of us might be able to fight our way out of here if I got poisoned.

  “Why have you been waiting?” I asked, watching her lithe movements.

  “I figured you would eventually find me and want to know about your mother.” She dropped a few herbs and cursed, her hands not the steadiest.

  “You knew her?” I asked, even as I suspected a stronger relationship from the resemblance.

  “I should think so, since I gave birth to her.”

  Birth? The woman didn’t look much older than I was.

  I shot a look at Hawk. He gave a shrug and a small nod, as if saying it were possible.

  “You’re my… Are you saying you’re…”

  She turned, forcing herself to stare at me, even though I had a creeping sensation she didn’t want to.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I gave birth to her. I don’t particularly care for aging, and I’m quite handy at spells. Since I’m one of the lucky Infinites, I can do as I please with my magic.” She walked over, bringing the pot of tea. “You didn’t get everything from that hill. Some of it passed down the old-fashioned way.”

  I had a grandmother in Xest this entire time, who’d known about me? Why hadn’t she come forward? She looked so young. Was she where I got my magic?

  “Are you…” Typically you weren’t supposed to ask a person how much magic they had. I mean, most people in Xest didn’t even touch because it was a private thing. Could a Whimsy be an Infinite? Her presence had a heavier feel than a Whimsy, but could that be because she was an Infinite? How rare of a combination was that?

  “I’m a strong Middling, if that’s what you’re looking to know. It’s rare to be an Infinite Middling. Not a common combination,” she said as she poured me tea.

  I picked the cup up, looking to buy myself an excuse not to drink it, and then paused.

  “It’s not poisoned,” she added, watching me hesitate.

  I drank from embarrassment, and she moved back to her fire, placing the kettle back on the hook.

  “I’m guessing you want to know about her. What happened? How you came to have the magic you have?” she said, pausing at the fireplace with her back to me.

  “If you know, yes.” Could it be that easy? After all this time? All I needed to do was come here and the answers would all be laid out?

  “I know it all. I know too much. It’s why I keep to myself and don’t bother with people.” She glanced my way and said, “Don’t need to get that look. I won’t hold back. Honestly, I was tired of waiting, knowing this day was going to come.”

  My intestines felt like they’d been knotted up and then anchored to the bottom of the abyss. I wanted to hurry her up, tell her to spit out all the sordid details. Hawk shifted closer to me, the subtlest of movements, but it helped ease the knotted tension in my gut.

  “So, how did I come to have all this magic from the hill? Do you know?” I tracked her around the kitchen.

  She was a flurry of motion, touching this and moving that, and then finally she stopped fussing. She stood still for a few seconds before walking over and dropping into the seat across from us.

  She rested her hands on the worn wood of the table, running her finger over the ridges as her eyes got a faraway look.

  “My Jossie, your mother, she was never…” She shook her head, as if she couldn’t find the right word or just didn’t want to use the one she’d found. “She was never quite right, if you know what I mean.”

  I stayed quiet, not sure if she wanted me to agree with her or not. My memories of my mother were clear enough to know exactly what she meant. Hearing it from someone else, it was nearly a relief that it hadn’t been a child’s delusion.

  “As a mother, you always want to make everything right for your child. You want to fix all their problems. But the thing she was missing, I couldn’t fix. I tried. In the end, I wasn’t able to. I guess that’s how all the trouble started in the first place. I’ve given it a lot of thought over the years, and instead of being straight with her, I kept trying to fix things I couldn’t.”

  With each word, Giselle seemed to slump a little lower, look a little more her age. I was becoming more and more terrified to hear what she’d done to “fix” her daughter.

  She took a deep breath, seeming to shake off a little of the trance she’d been falling into, and looked at me. “She was born a Whimsy, you see, and she blamed me. She hated me from the time she was old enough to realize I had more magic than she did. She resented me for having slept with a normal man, which is probably why she was born so much weaker. It diluted the blood, the magic. As a high Middling, with infinite magic, I had a lot of options. As a lower Whimsy, she didn’t.” She looked off into the distance again, and when she continued, it was as if she were talking to herself. “She was right to resent me. It was a stupid mistake on my part.”

  “You were in love?” I asked.

  She scoffed and smiled, but her eyes were endless pools of regret. “No. It was a one-night stand with some lackluster human who wasn’t even good in bed. I was drunk and partying in Rest. Back then, it was quite common
for a few witches and warlocks to spring break over in Rest. It’s frowned upon now, but it was the thing back then. I’d been back in Xest for a couple of months when I realized I was pregnant. I knew enough about potions that I could’ve done something to end it, but I wanted her and I was arrogant enough to think I had enough magic to make her at least a low-level Middling, even with the insult of regular blood in the mix.” She ran her hands over the table again as she got the distant look. “I was wrong. It was quite a disappointment to us both, to be honest. I remember the first time I held her and she had this weak current of magic. I thought maybe it was because she was a baby. The midwife who’d helped me give birth told me that wasn’t the case.” She shrugged. “I accepted it and loved her anyway. I figured what she wasn’t born with, I’d help her overcome with my spells and potions. I had enough for both of us.”

  Giselle shook her head. “No matter what I did to help her, the older she got, the more and more resentful she became.

  “Finally, one day she ran away to the factory. Said she’d rather work to death than be taken care of. She shut me out completely. Wouldn’t talk to me or acknowledge me at all.”

  Giselle stood and began moving about the kitchen again, as if she couldn’t tell the story and stay still. She began mixing herbs into a caldron, not saying anything.

  I glanced at Hawk, who shook his head, silently agreeing that we’d have to be patient. It was clear why she wouldn’t want to talk about any of it.

  She moved the caldron to the fireplace, using her spoon to mix the brew. After a few more minutes, she began to speak again. “One day, a couple of years later, she showed up on my doorstep saying I could do something to fix the wrong I’d done to her.

  “She’d discovered a hill that gave some of the other Whimsy witches she knew more magic, but it wouldn’t work for her. She needed me to help her.” She stopped stirring, her head bent. “I would’ve done anything to help her, so I went there with her and felt the magic in the hill. It took me six moon cycles to come up with a potion that would work, but I finally did it.”

  She fell silent again, going back to her stirring.

  Nothing was adding up. I hadn’t remembered my mother doing anything magical.