The Most Wanted Witch: Tales of Xest

by Donna Augustine

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. “He probably wants to talk about which room to give you. Why don’t you go in the back room with Zab?” I ignored Zab’s outraged look. “There’s some good cocoa from Gillian back there.”

  Or had she taken it all away? Who could keep track anymore?

  “Isn’t that the woman who makes the good cocoa? That annoying Sweet Shop lady? I love her cocoa, but she gives me the creeps. I never go in there.” Mertie let out a chimney’s worth of smoke as she talked.

  “Well, it’s amazing, and there’s a ton of it in the back.”

  “She’s staying here too, right?” Mertie asked.

  “She is. Is that a problem?” Please let it be.

  “Nah. I’ll get her in line quick enough. She looks like she scares easily. I’ll take a cocoa as you two figure out which room.” She went to turn but then paused. “By the way, I don’t like too much sun. I have sensitive eyes. A shadier spot is better. And quiet. I’m used to a lot of privacy.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  Zab took a long few seconds to force his mouth into the shape of a smile. “Okay. Yes, I can take you to the cocoa.” He wrung his hands as he walked toward the back, glancing over to keep an eye on Mertie’s location.

  Hawk’s expression said it all so clearly before he uttered a word. “You invited her to stay here?”

  The only good thing about this situation was that it totally eclipsed the awkwardness of last night. It was such a mess, in fact, that my accusations weren’t a thing anymore.

  “I didn’t think she’d take me up on it. She doesn’t like any of us, so why would she move in?”

  “Well, apparently she thinks she is.”

  “We’re already on top of each other anyway. What’s one more body?” As reasons to let her move in, that one sucked. I’d come up with it, and even I could see the flaws.

  “She’s going to get on everyone’s nerves,” he said.

  That had to be a joke of some sort. As if his Gillian didn’t?

  “Your invites haven’t always been pleasant either.” I pasted a fake smile on my face and held my fingers in the air, raising my voice high as I said, “My cocoa is the best. I’m the best. I do everything better.”

  I dropped the act and nailed him with an accusatory glare that should’ve put him in his place.

  Instead, he laughed. “She gets under your skin the most, doesn’t she?”

  How had this gotten turned back around on me? “She bugs everyone. Can you just make a room?”

  I didn’t wait for his answer. I had to go save Zab.

  32

  “Ugh. You’re here. Some retreat this place is turning out to be,” Mertie said. She was sitting at a chair pulled up to Zab’s desk, her hooves on his paperwork.

  I glanced around and saw Lou. The guy was creepy enough without sneaking in without a sound.

  “Tippi, he’s not moving in too, is he? I’ve got my limits of what I can stomach.” She flicked her cigarette ashes into the pile formed on the ground near her seat.

  “Yes, we all have our limits,” Zab said, giving Mertie the side-eye.

  “He’s not moving in.” I got up from my desk and made my way over to Lou, who was acting as if he hadn’t heard a thing Mertie had said.

  Before I got to him, Hawk’s voice boomed out from behind me. “Can we help you?”

  Lou looked over my shoulder before focusing his attention back on me. “I’m here to speak to you, but he can come along as well. Is there anywhere private in this place we can go?”

  “Let’s head to the back,” I said, waving him to where Hawk stood. It was as far into the building as I could stomach. If I took him upstairs, I doubt I’d be able to sleep there again.

  Hawk waited for Lou to pass and then stepped in between us. The back room was empty, and a second after we were all inside, the place went quiet. It would stay that way as long as Hawk wanted it to.

  Lou looked about the room as if he couldn’t decide where it was safe to sit. He glanced at the couches before returning to the table, where he took a chair and settled down.

  I took a seat opposite him and waited for him to speak. He’d come here, after all.

  Hawk didn’t bother sitting at all.

  “I’m here to do you a favor.” Lou bowed his head as if bestowing a benediction.

  “Sorry if I don’t jump for joy, but that’s a bit hard to believe.” I leaned back, folding my arms. I didn’t need to see Hawk to know he was having the same reaction.

  “Fine. I was trying to be pleasant, but it behooves me to help you.” Lou smiled as if he were grinning through the pain as he plucked invisible lint from his white dress jacket.

  “Why?” Hawk asked, the question sounding more like a demand.

  “Because it does. So what will it be? Do you want my help, or would you prefer to let Xazier come and do things his way?” Lou tapped his fingers on the table and crossed his legs, while keeping his grin in place.

  I leaned forward. “We’ll hear you out, but let me make something clear before you go any further: we don’t care what you do or how you help. We won’t give you our allegiance. Xest is ours.”

  His smile grew a little tenser and more frigid, if that were possible. “I didn’t think offering to help would be greeted with such hostility and resistance.”

  Hawk pulled out a chair, sitting beside me. “We’re merely laying out our conditions, but we’re listening.”

  “I’d heard you two weren’t so simpatico, but I see that was faulty information.” Lou sniffed in displeasure.

  Neither of us replied as we sat shoulder to shoulder. We might fight constantly, but we did seem to unite at all the right times.

  “I’m going to help, with no strings attached.” Lou leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. “I know how to put the monster back in its bottle. But if you don’t care to know, send me away. It’s your choice.”

  “And just how do we go about doing it?” Hawk asked.

  “You don’t.” Lou made a swirling motion with his finger before he stopped and pointed it at me. “She does.”

  Just what I needed right now. Another delusional man—angel—telling me I could do things I couldn’t. Why was it that every male in Xest seemed to believe I was more capable than I was? Under normal circumstances it might be flattering. Even in the beginning, it had been kind of interesting and cool to have people think I was special.

  But the games were done. We needed hard facts and proven methods. I couldn’t afford to get wrapped up in flattery. I needed a plan etched in concrete.

  “If I’ve been able to, why haven’t we found this special ability yet?”

  “Because you haven’t known what to do, and neither have your confidants. But I do.” Lou placed a hand on his chest and graced us with a smug smile.

  “What if it’s a trap?” Oscar leaned forward in his seat.

  Everyone had piled into the back room the moment Lou walked out, except for Gillian. It appeared she was planning on working later hours.

  “It could be, but it’s a chance I have to take,” I said, my legs kicked up on the table in front of the couch as I tried to present a calm image.

  “How are you supposed to get it there?” Bibbi asked, as if I hadn’t left that part out on purpose.

  “I can’t say. It’s a bit delicate.” I couldn’t say. If I did, everyone in this room would tell me I was crazy. I was still waiting for Hawk to say it.

  “But Lou told you how to get it to come?” Musso asked. His forehead was wrinkled as he hung back over by the fireplace, as if he didn’t want anything to do with what was to come.

  “Yes,” I said, having a hard time meeting his stare.

  Hawk wasn’t saying much. On the average day, knowing where Hawk stood on an issue wasn’t a problem, but he was keeping his cards close to his vest. Reading him tonight was like reading Latin. I was committed to doing whatever I had to, and that meant trying out Lou’s plan. But I couldn’t stop mys
elf from glancing at Hawk every few minutes, trying to get a read.

  “Are you sure about this?” Bibbi lapped the room again.

  “Yes,” I said. “I have to give it a try. Lou said it wouldn’t necessarily work forever. It’ll just buy us time. It makes me believe he was telling the truth.” He also said he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t hurt me, although he thought I’d make it out alive. They didn’t need to know that much detail.

  “There’s no other options?” Bertha asked.

  “No. We’ve been running around chasing our tails. We can’t even pin it down. I’ll think about it for a few days, but this might be the only way.” I spoke a truth that no one else was willing to admit.

  The room looked at me as if I’d announced the looming date of my funeral.

  “You should do whatever you feel is right and I’ll back you one hundred percent, body and mind.” Bibbi squared her shoulders and her face firmed up, losing all softness.

  “Thank you.” The transformation Bibbi had made, from meek young girl to hard soldier, was nothing less than amazing. Or maybe it hadn’t been a transformation at all but a shedding of an outer skin to reveal the truth beneath. Either way, I was proud to call her a friend.

  “That goes for me too,” Zab said.

  “It goes for us all,” Oscar said.

  There was one voice that remained silent. I wouldn’t look his way again, as if begging for approval. It had to be done, and I was the only one who could do it. No matter how much this show of support helped, other than lifting my spirits, it didn’t affect the plan.

  The time ticked by slowly as the room emptied until it was just me and him left.

  “If you have a criticism, I’d prefer you say it. At least put it out there so I can tell you that you’re wrong.” It was unfortunate that I was only partially joking.

  “No critique. I’m always on your side, whether you realize it or not.” Hawk’s calm statement helped settle something inside of me.

  For the first time in hours, I met his gaze. He walked over and sat opposite me, resting his arm on the back of the couch, looking as tired as I felt.

  “I’ll back you up, whatever your decision,” he said.

  “Then why were you so silent?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t mean I like it. But very rarely am I happy with any of the plans you decide upon.” His face softened.

  “I want to do it tomorrow, early, before anyone knows we’re gone.” I toyed with the fringe on the throw blanket beside me. “Just us. That’s it. If things go badly, I don’t want to worry about anyone else getting caught in the crossfire.”

  “It’s not going to be easy.”

  That sounded like the understatement of the decade. The way Lou had laid it out, I’d be lucky to make it through the first part of what was coming.

  Hawk stood.

  “You think it’ll work?” I asked before he could leave, hating how desperate that had come out.

  He took a step toward me. “You’ll make it.”

  “How do you know?”

  He leaned down, his lips crashing over mine, his presence swallowing me whole the way it always did when he touched me.

  I was breathless when he broke off a few seconds later.

  Hawk cupped my face with a firm grip. I couldn’t break away from the intensity of his stare. “I can’t stop you from doing this, but I’ll be damned if I let you die.”

  He walked out of the room, leaving me stunned for different reasons.

  It wasn’t yet dawn when I made my way downstairs in what I considered my best combat gear of black boots with steel toes, leather pants, and a jacket that wasn’t very warm but didn’t have any bulk to slow me down.

  Hawk was waiting for me, looking pretty kick-ass himself.

  “You ready?” he asked as I walked into the room.

  Sleep hadn’t come to me until well into the night, but my tank was fueled with adrenaline. From the calmness that had settled over me, it seemed my engine ran cleaner on that stuff than sleep and good food. It was something to think about in the future. Or had I become adrenaline adapted? Either way, I was about as steady as you could get.

  “Yeah. I am. Let’s go catch some evil.”

  33

  We walked to the spot, the place we’d always felt Dread the most. It wasn’t there, but Lou had told us how to lure it out.

  I held my palm out to Hawk, silently asking for his knife.

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “As sure as anyone can be, given the circumstances.”

  He reached for the blade at his side and handed it to me then grabbed my hand. “You just need a little. Don’t deplete yourself so much that you don’t have enough to finish.”

  I nodded and steadied myself. He was right. I couldn’t mess this part up. I was about to offer up a sacrifice to whatever the forces that ruled Xest were. I would say the words and then pierce my skin right above my heart. If I did it right, it would flow magic. If I did it wrong, it would flow blood. If it went really wrong, it would drain all the magic I had, and this wasn’t the worst part of the plan.

  Blade in hand, I said the verse I’d only learned yesterday.

  “With this blade, I offer homage. I offer life; I offer payment. Do my will. Grant my wish; fulfill my destiny.”

  My chest grew warm, tingling.

  I tugged my shirt down to right below my collarbone and dragged the point of the blade over my flesh. I cut just deep enough, but hopefully not too deep. Apparently slicing yourself open was a delicate thing.

  I didn’t stop until the line, which was red at the moment, was the approximate length of my fist, or heart. The red that seeped out, which I was sure meant I’d blundered, slowly lost its color, first turning clear, almost like I oozed aloe, until it began to shift. That was when things got really interesting. As I stared down at my chest, the clear jelly substance began to take on a tint of pink, then blue, silver, turquoise, until it resembled the rainbow of my magic. As it shifted, it lost its gel-like appearance, thinning into vapor and lifting away from me in a steady stream.

  Hawk gave me a nod as I stood, waiting. Just as Lou had said, it didn’t take long to get results. A trickle of unease settled over me. I could feel Dread nearing.

  Hawk lifted his head, sensing it as well. Our gazes met. I tilted my head before I turned and started in the direction of the hill, the last place I thought I’d go back to.

  Watching the stream of my magic floating on the air, I kept my pace slow and steady, leaving a lure for Dread to follow.

  Every few moments, I’d glance back, checking the trail I was leaving behind.

  I looked back to Hawk, who was also watching. He nodded again. He thought it looked good too, and we both better be right. This needed to work. It had to work. When Lou laid out the steps, the logic had appeared sound, but not without risk. I was bleeding magic in a world where that was the lifeblood that kept you alive in Xest. The risk was inherent and obvious from the start, and this was only the beginning.

  We’d been walking for a good while when Hawk’s attention shifted from the stream of magic bleeding out of my chest to my face.

  He didn’t need to say the words.

  “I’m good,” I said, even as I felt the drain. How much magic could I afford to lose before I wouldn’t be capable of finishing the plan? I had enough for now, and it would have to hold.

  Zab had once told me that I must be one of the lucky ones with infinite magic. I didn’t have to live in fear like so many others, who needed to budget every day, knowing that each use might take minutes, hours, days, or even years off their life. I could use mine with abandon. But even Infinites needed time to recharge. What if I was completely drained before I could? But that was part of the point of this little endeavor. It would sense my weakness and finally make its move on me directly. That was when I’d get my chance, if I lived long enough.

  I picked up my pace. I couldn’t dwell on the negative, not now, when it might weigh me
down. There could be no fear, no doubt. Only success. Weakness didn’t win wars. And if I didn’t win? I’d go out in one hell of a blaze of glory.

  The hill came into sight before us; the presence of Dread had seemed to keep pace behind. As we got closer, Hawk distanced himself. In the end, this would be my battle alone.

  The hill that had been nothing to climb before now made me slow my steps and breathe deeper. The doubts were trying to crowd my mind, but I forced my attention solely on my purpose.

  I made my way to the spot that called to me and embraced its welcome, knowing somehow that whatever was beneath me, it was on my side. I knelt, knowing the next step was to close the cut on my chest, finish the offering. I placed one hand on the ground, and as I did, I felt a surge of power within me, the ground I knelt upon warming, and a connection that wiped away any weakness.

  Hawk called out to me, “It’s enough.”

  I shook my head. He didn’t feel what I did. I could do this, and if the trail of my magic was what Dread wanted, it was going to get it.

  “Tippi,” Hawk said.

  “You have to trust me.” I placed my other hand on the ground, feeling more positive than ever that I was making the right choice.

  Hawk was barely maintaining his distance, inching closer, not that it would stop Dread. As opposed to the rest of the witches and warlocks in Xest, which Hawk scared away without effort, when it came to Dread, I was the only thing it feared.

  Both hands on the ground, I stopped fighting the feeling and connection.

  Hawk wasn’t moving, not a hair, fighting for control. I stopped looking at him, afraid a momentary slip on my part might trigger his undoing and ruin our progress, and there was some. I could feel Dread nearing, its evil swelling around me.

  But as it came closer this time, it was if I were watching a winter storm ravage the land through a window. I felt shielded from the usual feelings of despair that would normally threaten to take me under. This time I felt comforted, secure, as if I sat wrapped in a blanket in front of a roaring fire. Whatever magic was in this hill, it cocooned me.