Witch Hunter: Into the Outside

by J. Z. Foster

  Their commotion drew no attention from the rest of the diner. Ted’s gaze, sharp as a dagger, stabbed into Richard. “We’re done listening to you, Richard. You’ve fucked up one too many times. Sit down.”

  The daeva watched in amusement.

  I’m not sitting down.

  “Take a walk, Ted. Go home. We’re not doing this your way.” This was the first time Richard ever stood up for himself. His nostrils flared and he gulped for air, but he was in control—angry and afraid, but in control.

  “Girls,” the daeva mocked without rising from its chair. “You’re both pretty. Take a breath and calm down. A wight would certainly work, but you have something else that’d work too.” It pointed its pale finger at the protective jewelry hanging from Richard’s neck.

  The words snapped them into focus. Ted and his anger were no longer a concern. The necklace suddenly felt warm against Richard’s chest, as if thinking about it was enough to heat it. Richard’s hands rose to clench it as he took his seat.

  I can’t. This has save me so many times already.

  “No, I can’t give this up.”

  “So then we’re back to the wight, right?” Ted shot from across the table.

  “No.” It broke Richard’s heart to say it. He’d had the necklace for years and loved it before he even knew there was power in it. “It’s fine.” He wavered, rubbing his fingers over the metal cross before he reached back to undo the clasp. He held it in his hand for a few long moments before he spoke; his words were slow and his voice was uneasy. “The legends say you can’t lie.” Not a question, but a statement.

  The stranger had fixated upon the necklace as Richard gathered it. Its gaze traced up to meet Richard’s. “Clever of you to form your questions into statements. Yes, it’s true, we cannot lie when in a bargain.”

  “Then I don’t think this buys me one question.” His hands tightened around the cross, hard enough that he felt the sharp metal edges cut into his skin and a wetness fill his grasp. “I think it buys me at least three.”

  “Three?” A laugh spurted out from its lips. “Your friends here have asked me that many already.” It waved a hand toward Beth.

  “You might not be able to lie, but you can deceive. I’m the one that called you. I’m the one that pays. They don’t. You answered those for free.” Richard glared. “We don’t owe you anything for that.”

  The stranger threw its head back and barked out laughter, each laugh more frightening and inhuman than the last. Its head rolled from side to side on its neck until it turned its piercing eyes onto the others. “See?” It looked at both Ted and Beth. “He’s smarter than either of you. He’s a damn scoundrel. He pushes a hard deal, but he won’t get three answers. I’d be willing to part with two, though.” It finally turned back to look at Richard. “Two answers, no more. And it’s only because I like you.” Its wicked, curled lips did nothing to hide its annoyance.

  “You’ll answer everything as best you know it, sparing no detail or otherwise deceiving us with an unclear answer.” Blood had pooled in Richard’s hand and started to leak between his fingers to the floor, but he didn’t care.

  “A bargain well made. Deal.”

  Richard reached over and set the powerful, bloody artifact down in front of the daeva. At first, his fingers refused to drop it, but after a deep breath, Richard let it drop from his hand, clattering to the table. The false god sucked in the air, clearly enjoying the aroma of freshly spilled blood. Its long tongue stretched out of its mouth, farther than Richard would have imagined it could, and tasted the blood specks on the necklace.

  “Quite a thing you had there, buddy.” Its hand slammed down, hard enough to shake the table, as it grabbed hold of the artifact and drew the bloody necklace in. “Now that we have that unpleasantness out of the way, let’s hear that question again. Make it all official-like.”

  Richard let out a deep sigh and clenched his eyes. The moment the cross left his neck, he felt like a lesser person—his shield stripped away as if it had been a piece of himself. He knew what he had lost. He was naked now.

  No, I’m more than that. I can do this. I can do it.

  He lied to himself. He finally opened his eyes and spoke, steeling his voice from quivering. “We want to kill the plague witch here in Bridgedale. We want to know what weapon we can use to do it, one that we can get and use tonight. What will work?”

  The stranger leaned in close enough that its stale breath assaulted Richard. The witch hunter wanted to draw back, but instead forced himself not to show weakness. The daeva drew a finger up and pointed at Richard’s satchel. “Can I see your purse there, sweetheart?” The stranger’s purple eyes burned. Richard felt like its gaze was digging into him, lighting his blood on fire.

  Richard gripped the bag tightly and kept the monster’s stare, feeling a primal instinct that told him not to ever turn his back on the daeva.

  Something is not right here. We’re being played.

  “Come on, you’re being a baby. I’m not going to steal your stupid knife.” Richard still refused. “Fine. You open that bag and take it out.”

  Carefully, he opened his bag and pulled out the blade, the same he’d used to find the witch’s name. That same etched wooden handle carved from a tree where a witch was hanged, and that same blade that was forged in a church by a priest.

  “You take that blade and you plunge it into the bastard’s heart. He’ll die as good as anything would.” He opened his arms, “Now, wasn’t that worth the price of admission? I just saved you a whole mess of trouble!”

  Richard turned it over in his hand. “We had it the whole time…” He gripped the worn handle tightly in disbelief.

  Did I lose the necklace for nothing? No, something is not right.

  “The means to kill the witch has been with you the whole time.” The stranger said joyfully, delighting in Richard’s loss and misery. “But that’s a good thing, right? Don’t look so glum. You’d rather go running around out in the woods or raiding some poor gypsy’s workshop? You know how hard gypsies are to come by these days? They are quite delicious though, so let me know if you do happen by one.”

  “So that’s it? We’ve got it then. We can end this.” Ted’s eyes filled with hope.

  “Cool your horses there, Red,” The stranger said with a toothy grin. “Pudgy here still has one more question. A deal was made and it cannot be broken.” It spread its arms open wide. “Think carefully, friend, you don’t get many choices like this in your life. So what is it? Divination, location, truth?” Its gaze cut deep, peeling away the layers, and touching the fear in each part of Richard’s being.

  Be smart. There’s something here you don’t see.

  “You want to know the best way to kill that witch? Where he’s weakest?”

  Richard’s eyes focused on the daeva’s mouth, the sharp white teeth hid below his curled lip, and the sawing row of fangs hid behind them. The slick, knowing expression it had, the arrogance and pure attitude that oozed from the daeva’s grin.

  Think, think carefully.

  “No? Want to know which stock is going to jump five thousand percent in the next few years? Maybe you can die a rich man.” Its eyes, its smile—sharp as a blade.

  Don’t jump. It’s a game. It’s trying to make you move.

  The stranger’s words now came out like nails on a chalkboard. “How about the next great tragedy that would befall your country here? You want to know where the bomb is? Who it’s going to kill? You could stop it. They’d write your name in history books. You never did like being a nobody, did you?”

  No, no there’s more. There’s more. I can feel it.

  “Or how about where you die?” The daeva persisted. Each word was drawn out to torture Richard. “I could tell you when, tell you how. Could tell you how it feels when she pulls your head back and the blade goes in.”

  She?

  His mind danced and cried out.

  No! It’s bait. Don’t bite! Don’t give in!

>   “No? What about love? You look the lonely type. You want to know of the woman that you would fall in love with? You want to know what’s happening to her right now? I’ll give you a hint, maybe she’s had a little too much to drink, maybe you could tell her not to get into that car.”

  It’s hiding something. It’s planned this. Nothing this powerful would just show up, not with such a meager ritual. Not unless it wanted to. There’s a game here that I don’t see.

  Richard let out a breath and filled his lungs again. He looked up from the table and met the daeva’s gaze. Richard’s eyes didn’t burn like fire, nor did they reek of horror and pain like the daeva’s. Richard’s eyes were simply stone.

  “What are all the reasons as to why you came here?”

  The daeva’s joy slowly faded away. All pretext of kindness or humor melted away; all the fabricated smiles and gestures were gone. But the rage in his eyes was still there, burning as hot as hellfire.

  “I’ll ask you only once to withdraw that question and step back onto the safer path, the one that everyone else walks. Ask me how you die, or how you can become rich. Ask me which woman will lay with you, or how you could be king.” The words were stiff. “Dance like a mortal, a thing of soft flesh and bone that breaks easily. Ask me something else.”

  This time Richard leaned in, and he did not avert his gaze nor stammer.

  “No.”

  The daeva’s head rolled back and shook in an unnatural blur. It swung loose on its neck from side to side before it pulled level again. “Then so it is. Well done; I’ve underestimated you.” The daeva didn’t pretend to enjoy this; there was no mock enjoyment in its voice. “I’m here for you. You are here because of my making. When you cast your lot with the stupid knife-in-the-bowl trick, I was the one that grabbed the blade and aimed it at your warlock. Did you think such a novice trick would expose such a power? Did you not stop to wonder why such a deceptive creature as the warlock would be open to such magicks?” It scolded Richard and drew its hand up, exposing its sharp nails. “I stuck my hand through from the abyss and turned your blade. I burned what was left of my essence to force your blade through the ether and aim it at that bastard’s name. The witch has shackled me to him, me, a god of men, to his purposes. I grabbed onto your witching spell and set you upon him as a distraction, an annoyance, but you’ve been doing quite well, haven’t you? I tried to pierce your mind in the house—did you feel it? Did you feel how I worked my fingers across your memories, pulling them away? I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t get anything out of you because of this.” It held up the bloodied cross.

  I remember him. I remember the itch inside my mind.

  “You’re a fool, a fucking fool, but you had this. You tore down his name, his source of power. And now, with this cross on me, that motherfucker won’t bind me again. Now I’m free to walk these planes, free to once more be worshipped and draw from the lives of men.” Again, it twisted its profane lips into its deceptive embrace of a smile. “And if you do manage to slay the witch, I’ll snatch him in the afterlife and eat his soul. If you die, I am none the worse.” It pulled off its hat and slipped the metal treasure, the cross that had once been Richard’s shield, around its neck. “But perhaps a great deal better than before.”

  “So we’ve been played?” Ted rattled from across the table. “This thing is using us in its own vendetta? Screw this shit. Let’s go home. Let the diva here fight its own war.”

  “Well damn, Slick, ain’t you the smartest of the pack?” The daeva’s greasy, stiff hair hardly waved as it shook its head. “You’ll play your part, lest you worry about a pissed off witch on your ass for the rest of your days. He’s got ways of finding you, ways beyond what you can understand.”

  “Then help us!” Beth’s eyes were filled with desperation. “Tell us more, where he’s at, what he can do. Tell us everything!”

  “It can’t.” Richard said, in a weak voice. “It doesn’t work that way. It doesn’t know the future. It can only use its energy to look to it, to answer a question. But it’s running on empty. Why else would a false god be looking to three novice witch hunters for help? It’s not nearly as scary as it wants us to think it is.”

  We’re in too deep to stop now.

  Calling the daeva a false god clearly struck it. Its eyes confronted Richard and drew him in. Richard couldn’t look away, couldn’t possibly break whatever struggle they had here. “Pudgy here is right. I’m running low on juice, and I don’t live here. I don’t know where the hell he is in the fat, disgusting physical sense. But I did do you a favor. Your stupid trick wouldn’t have worked without me, and if it did at all, it would have sent you full tilt at a plague witch. He’s hundreds of years old; he would have consumed you in moments. You wouldn’t have been a threat, only a mild annoyance.”

  The daeva shook its head in disgust. “I can tell you, however, that he’s weak enough with his name destroyed that you can track him again another way. You try the Witch’s Dance with him, and you’ll get a bead on him. It’s not much, but it’s the best your sorry lot has got. Hit him while he’s weak. Kill him for me, and for yourselves. Hell, kill him for everyone he’s tormented, and everyone he will destroy if you don’t. Or just kill him because you don’t have a choice. I don’t really give a shit what reason you come up with.”

  A Witch’s Dance?

  “What’s that?” Richard said, confused. “A Witch’s Dance? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “That’s the problem with you damn mortals, each of you comes up with your own stupid name for something. Nothing is ever uniform. In The Outside, like you called it, things don’t have names that can be changed; it’s not something you can dally with. Things are or they are not. They cannot be altered.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” Ted finally spat out.

  “He’s saying that language isn’t a construct where he’s from like it is here.” Beth said. “Is that right?”

  “Sure. Whatever. I don’t expect your soft brains to understand such things.”

  “Then what do we do then? What’s the Witch’s Dance?” Richard leaned forward in his chair.

  “That would be telling, wouldn’t it? And you’ve only paid me for two questions. Besides, I think a slick little witch burner like you could figure it out. It’ll be a walk in the park, I’m sure.”

  Carelessly, it waved a hand. “Well, it’s been fun. But our business is concluded here. Try not to take too long, though. I might just get hungry enough to try and snag a bite here, might be worth what trouble I’d stir up, eh?” Its wet tongue snaked out and licked its lips as its horrible eyes turned to the others in the restaurant. Not another word crept from its mouth, only a low and playful whistle as it spun on its heels and strolled from the diner.

  Beth let a moment pass before she broke the silence at the table. “What in the hell just happened? What did we just see exactly, Richard?”

  Richard cleared his throat. “I don’t know exactly, but it was a daeva. They’re beings, outsiders, whatever you want to call them, that people used to worship as gods. The priests and clergy used to hunt them or expose them as demons. Now they’re angry, vengeful shells of what they once were. And the daeva was right. We don’t have a choice. We’re a threat that the witch will deal with, sooner or later.”

  “Then this doesn’t change anything.” Beth’s hair fluttered as she shook her head. “We’re still going forward, we still have to finish this. Now we just have more of an incentive.”

  “The sooner we get this done, the better.” Ted scooted forward in his chair and pointed a finger down at the dagger Richard was gripping. “Give me the blade. When the time comes, I’ll do it quick and we can get the hell out of here. You just figure out where the hell he is Richard, and I’ll do what we need to do. Can you do that?” Ted asked with irritation, like Richard had failed him again. But Richard didn’t mind.

  Thank God.

  Richard didn’t want to kill anything, even something pure evil.
He handed the knife over to Ted without any of the hesitation he had shown with the daeva.

  I’ll get them there, Ted will do it, and we’re done. Everyone can go home. Everyone will go home. Everyone will go home.

  He repeated the thought over and over to himself. But despite how many times he said it, he couldn’t make himself believe the words. He felt the change in the wind and the itch on his neck.

  Now what the hell is a Witch’s Dance?

  Chapter 14

  “Mmhmm.” Minges patted the sweat that was beading on his head with a hanky. “So, you believe you let that son of a bitch out, eh? What’d you say its name was?”

  “I didn’t.” Richard said. “It was a daeva, if that’s what you’re asking, but it wouldn’t give us its name. Like I told you before, names hold power.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you said that for sure.” Minges nodded and took a deep breath, fanning himself with his hat. “Getting hot as all hell in here. So you said that this fella took your charm bracelet, right?”

  “Sanctified necklace.” Richard corrected him and sank deep into his seat. “It was my protection, and with it gone,” he hesitated, “I can’t be sure of what I’ve done.”

  Did he make me kill Beth?

  The thought sank deep into him and rubbed sharp edges on his insides. It made him want to throw up. He took in a breath to keep it all down and wondered where it all went wrong.

  When the daeva took the necklace, that’s when it all started to go to hell. It’s all clear now that I say it. He took my necklace and the witch got into my mind.

  Minges had been momentarily content to suck in air and fan himself, leaving Richard to his own thoughts. “You sayin’ that losing that necklace is why you caved that poor girl’s head in, yeah?”

  “I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that.” Richard bit his lip. “No, it’s all a lie. I didn’t kill her. There’s no way.” If his eyes hadn’t been so dry at this point, fat tears might have started again. “But maybe he made me do it.” Conflicted, unsure, his head sagged in defeat.