The smell of smoke woke Erador’s senses. His fatigue faded at the first sign of life in this endless forest. He began his trek with Aminria at dawn but now the sun rays filtered through the leaves overhead. Yellow light glowed in the windows of a cottage. He peered out from behind a tree.

  “How well do you know this witch?” Erador asked.

  “I don’t.” Aminria’s footfalls settled next to him. “I said I know of her.”

  “That’s great,” Erador said, irritated as he peeled the sweaty fabric from his chest. Aminria hadn’t seemed to sweat a drop.

  “She’s the closest one. We could travel a few extra hours, if you prefer.”

  “She’ll do... I hope.”

  Erador checked his surroundings as he approached the door. Moss clung to the sunken roof. The shoddy exterior reminded him of the manor, except this place didn’t have painted windows. He rapped on the splintered door. A shadow lurked in the window and the curtains moved, a veiny eye peeked out. Footsteps creaked on the floorboards. The knob turned and the door groaned open.

  Heat blasted out as a hunched-back woman waddled onto the step. Her skeptical, dark eyes searched Erador and Aminria. The wart on her cheek appeared like a third one. Her gray bun was tied high on her head, reaching to Erador’s ribs. Harmless, or at least she looked it. But Erador wouldn’t let down his guard around an old woman, especially not a witch.

  Her throat uttered a croak. “What do you want?”

  “I’m Aminria and this is Erador,” Aminria said cheerily despite the woman’s cold demeanor. “We need to talk about Lord Judgment.”

  The woman looked puzzled. She squinted as she scanned Erador up and down. Her lips slowly opened like blinds, revealing a dark abyss. A rack of brown teeth seemed to drop in place as she smiled. Erador shivered, wishing he took Aminria’s offer to go further. Blistered feet and aching limbs seemed worth it now.

  “Do come in!” the woman said, stepping aside.

  Erador craned his neck. A fireplace illuminated the small room. It contained enough furniture for one person. Though it appeared homely, to Erador it was like a mirage in the forest. A place to trick lost and weary travelers into thinking it was a safe haven.

  “I won’t bite,” she said.

  Her croaky voice didn’t help. Erador shuffled inside and pressed his back against the wall. Aminria moved in front of him as the woman shut the door. Heat accumulated in the small space. Erador wished it would vanish, but the blazing fireplace calmed him. Shade flickered across the wall and low ceiling. He was ready if needed.

  “You may sit,” the woman said, beckoning to the table jammed in the corner.

  “I’ll stand,” Erador said.

  “You look much like your father. Handsome and strong.” The woman leaned on her toes, her deep wrinkles were like craters. “Though your eyes... They’re dark.”

  Erador gagged at her rancid breath. He waved his hand in front of his nose. “Do you mind?”

  Her smile faded as she backed away and grabbed a log. “My name is Medina, by the way,” she said, placing a log in the fireplace.

  “How do you know my father?” he asked.

  “Oh... we knew each other for years.” She touched her stomach. “It was a wondrous time.”

  Erador studied her further. He couldn’t fathom why his father would bother with her. Medina lived in a run down cottage, probably went months without seeing people. She was a nobody.

  “How did he meet a wretched woman like you?”

  Aminria snorted, covering her mouth.

  “Don’t be that way.” Medina found Erador with loving eyes and reached toward him. He swerved away as her fingernails scratched the wall. “I’m sorry. You look like your father.”

  Erador showed his teeth. “I’m not.”

  Sighing, Medina wandered to the fireplace and sat in the rocking chair. “We were... I suppose you could say partners, but I haven’t seen him in years.” The chair creaked as she swayed. “How is he?”

  “He’s as worn, old, and smelly as you.” Erador tried not to focus on his father’s heartbreaking condition, so his malicious words came out harsh. “His pendant was destroyed.”

  Medina clutched the arm rests and stopped rocking. “By who?”

  “His followers.” Aminria tucked a curl behind her ear.

  Medina got up, bones cracking. “When did this happen?”

  “Twenty years ago,” Erador said.

  “Oh my.” Medina wobbled across the floorboards, mumbling behind her hands. “That’s why he stopped seeing me.” She jerked her neck around, appearing surprised that Aminria and Erador were still there. “He needs another. Wait...” She turned her back, hunching further. “He needs something stronger. Another pendant won’t do.”

  Erador shook his head as heat scorched his cheeks. “So, you’re the one I should thank?” He took a firm step toward her. “That pendant ruined him. It aged him so drastically he’s like a corpse.”

  “Erador.” Medina’s brow creased. “Don’t get angry.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I have every right to be.”

  “It was supposed to extend his life. I didn’t know the effects if it was destroyed.” Medina grabbed her hair, pacing. “It was an accident.”

  “You experimented on my father?” Erador’s voice boomed through the cottage. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  Medina forced a smile and shrugged as she backed away. “It was...”

  “Intentional?”

  “No... No.” She bumped into the table. “I assure you it wasn’t. I was only trying to help. Judgment and I... we were close.”

  “My father is suffering from sores that can never fully be healed.”

  “What?” Her lip trembled. “The pendant shouldn’t have caused that.”

  Now Erador saw for himself how dangerous witch magic could be. His father sacrificed his quality of life for some fucking pendant. The purpose of it wasn’t to see the truths of his followers, it was to extend his life. Erador wasn’t surprised when he already knew his father was afraid to die. His life had been extended, but not in the way he wanted it to be. It wasn’t worth it.

  Aminria moved beside them. “I think she’s telling the truth and I also think,” she said, pressing her palm against Erador’s chest, “We should calm down.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Erador fiercely looked into Aminria’s silver eyes. They conveyed anger, but at him. He wanted to blink away the pain and loss he suffered, but he couldn’t. Especially when one of the people at fault for his father’s suffering was here.

  “Did you know this pendant was from a witch?” he whispered, trying to steady his shaking voice.

  Aminria gnawed her lip. “Yes, but I couldn’t say anything because witches are banned.”

  “That’s your excuse?”

  “And you think telling you would’ve helped?”

  Cursing, he moved to a window and swung it open. He was sick of poor excuses, lies, and being left in the dark. They didn’t want to upset him, but that proved they thought he was still a child. Tensing a fist, he looked at the scars on his wrist and jerked the sleeve down to cover them.

  A chair scrapped across the floor. Aminria helped Medina in it and sat beside her. “Erador is upset about what happened to his father.”

  “Oh sure,” Erador mumbled, resting his arms on the windowsill. “Blame me.”

  “It’s hard to see him sick every day.” Aminria settled her hand on Medina’s. “You have to understand.”

  The fireplace crackled and bodies shuffled. Erador leaned over the window and took a deep breath, but only drew in more smoke. The heat prevented fresh air from entering. Erador felt trapped, not in this cottage but in his head. He couldn't say anything to the Lucrethians, and he couldn’t do anything about Yuni.

  Erador looked around as Medina fiddled with her dress pocket.

  “What do you need?” she said.

  “I found this.” Erador pulled the gray crystal from his pocket and placed it on the table. “I need to know who made it.”

  Medina picked it up and strained her eyes. “Hm... Many witches could have, but I only trust one who does—Baubie.”

  “Where’s this Baubie?” Erador asked.

  “Anywhere and everywhere. It’s best to summon him.”

  “How?”

  “An incantation, a lense, a mirror, and crystal paint will do.” Medina got up and clicked open a chest at the foot of her bed.

  Aminria moved beside her, watching as the witch rummaged through it. “How do you know him?”

  “I used to purchase his goods.” Medina’s voice muffled as she lowered her head inside the chest. “I think I have the incantation here.” She tossed out shawls and socks. A metal anchor clinked to the ground and slid to Erador’s boots.

  “What’s this?” he asked, picking it up.

  Medina’s face scrunched as her eyes found the anchor. “What does it look like to you?” She went back to rummaging in the chest.

  Erador examined the smooth metal as big as his hand. It had an engraved eye at the top, a whip on the right end, and spread wings on the left. An anchor crest was on the back. “Can I have it?”

  She raised her head until her narrow eyes were in view. “It’s a piece of junk.” She dug around erratically as she mumbled, “Take it if you want.”

  A force slammed onto Erador’s shoulder. White bulging eyes peered into his soul from a furry rat. Nose wrinkled, he hit it off and it landed with a thump. He blew remnants of gray hair off his shirt. When they were gone, he shook the fabric hoping it would clean the contamination.

  “Got it!” She waved a paper in the air and wobbled over to him.

  Erador took it and read the note.

  Baubie’s Baubles

  A mirror, crystal paint, a crystal orb, and these words will do the trick:

  I need some wares to buy today

  Send Baubie’s Baubles catalog my way

  “This is a catalog of trinkets,” Erador said, eyes flicking up. “I thought he was a witch.”

  “He is. He sells those to hide his real business.” She pulled a sealed can from the chest along with a glass orb with one large hole and a small one. “He sells standard witch merchandise, illegal goods, and the most dangerous you can find.”

  “I want to talk to him, not buy,” Erador said, shaking the paper.

  “Ah. Ah.” Medina shook her finger. “In order to meet with him you must do this. He only consults with people interested in custom orders. Place this crystal orb in the center of a mirror. Tall like him,” she said, her eyes moving up Erador's body. “With the largest hole facing it. Paint the mirror. Then recite the words into the orb and choose the custom section.”

  Aminria pressed a finger to her lips. “How do you choose—”

  “Tell it.” Medina shoved the orb and can of paint in Aminria’s arms. “But there’s a waiting list.”

  “How long is it?” Erador asked.

  Depends on the amount of orders, and Baubie’s holiday time.” Medina tapped her fingers together. “Could be a week or two.”

  “Two weeks?” Erador looked at Aminria. “I don’t know how much time we have.”

  “Before what?” Medina asked, popping in between them.

  “Lord Judgment hired a witch to heal him,” Aminria said before Erador could speak.

  Erador bunched his lips and glared at Aminria.

  “Oh...” Medina’s voice trailed off as she turned away. “He doesn’t need me then.”

  “Medina.” Aminria touched her back. “He’s not well. I’m sure if he knew, he would have asked you instead.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Medina sank onto the bed. The blankets looked as thin and worn as her skin. “It’s hard, since I haven’t seen him in so long.” She touched her chest. “I miss him.”

  “I’m sure you do, but… we are afraid this witch isn’t who she says she is.” Aminria sat beside her. “If we can figure out who this witch is, we can stop her if necessary. That’s why we need to see Baubie and fast.”

  Medina scratched her long nails on her dry cheek “If you tell it my name, it should bump you near the top of the list. His most loyal customers come first. It’s Medina Carela.”

  “Thank you,” Aminria said, rubbing her shoulder.

  Erador moved toward the door.

  Medina’s feet scuffed after them. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to stop by. It could just be to chat.”

  Erador slammed the door after Aminria left. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “You were awfully nice in there.”

  “I had to be.” Aminria planted a hand on her hip. “You have to work with people not against them.”

  Erador rolled his eyes, mumbling, “Says the one who wanted to threaten the caregivers.”

  “And see,” Aminria lifted the orb and paint. “I got us quicker access. You should be thanking me. Maybe a reward,” she said, puckering her lips.

  Erador pushed her forehead back. He took the paint and went into the trees.

  Aminria tucked the orb under her arm and followed him. “Baubie. Baubie.”

  “Trying to summon him already?”

  “No.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s that name. I heard it somewhere before.”

  “A witch?” Erador raised a brow. “You heard of another witch? Where?”

  “Hawth.”

  “Huh?” Erador said, whipping around.

  Aminria’s face lit. “His name is Baubie Hawth! I’ve seen him before when we traveled out of town with Judgment. He would do magic shows. I know we weren’t supposed to but I... sneaked into one.”

  Erador scoffed. “Really?”

  Aminria scratched her neck. “I couldn’t resist the pretty sign and the featured illusions.”

  Erador licked his smiling lips. “Guess your mischief has proven handy... this time.”

  She flashed a proud grin. “And you know what?” she said, lifting a finger. “I think Baubie knows Hawth.”

  “Our Hawth? You think he’s related?”

  Aminria adjusted her charm bracelet. “Might be. Hawth isn’t his first name, after all.”

  Erador tightened his grip on the paint can. “If he knows a witch, he’s dead.”

  Aminria grinned. “Looks like we’ll be bumped to first.”