by J. Z. Foster
“Well, then.” Minges perked up, clearly excited by the change in direction. “What happened to ya’ll next?” Joy crept back onto his face.
“What else was there to do? We finished eating and made a call to The Kord. After that, we went out to the van. I made the same drink that I gave Ted and Beth.” He smiled slightly, remembering the moment. “They were right. It tasted terrible.”
“Yeah, yeah. You know it ain’t gonna look too good in court when they ask what ya’ll were drinking and your best answer is ‘some black tar shit I put in there.’ ” He gave a sarcastic snort under his breath.
“I’d tell you if I knew.”
“I’m sure you would,” the lawyer agreed. “But I got another question for you, son. If you thought this was all true, everything, this witch, this demon, them pig babies… Why didn’t you just go home? Call the damn police? Anything? I hear what you’re saying. He’s chasing you, he’s on your ass. But it just don’t make sense. How are you going to go up against something that’s doing all the shit you’re saying it can?”
“I told you before. I’ve never been good at anything.” He gave a shy, sheepish smile. “When my dad walked out on me and my mom, she shut down. I could never really get to her.” He looked up to meet his lawyer’s tired eyes. “But this—I was afraid—but I could do this. I could do it. I could help in this.” His gaze fell to the floor again. “But if Beth really is dead, then I guess I couldn’t. I guess I can’t do anything.”
Minges took in a deep breath and stopped fanning himself. “Don’t worry there son, we’re gonna get this all sorted out, and get you what you need, yeah? Let’s hear it, what happened next?”
The hooks of doubt were there now. Beth was dead and maybe Richard had done it. He told himself it wasn’t him, but part of him was afraid it was true.
The tears began streaming down his face. “I got the book out, and Beth and I started to go through it…”
Richard sighed and flipped through the pages again. “I don’t see anything like Witch’s Dance in here.”
With the false god gone, life continued as normal in the small diner in the quiet town of Bridgedale. None of the occupants seemed concerned with what had happened or even aware that the daeva had come at all now, no one was any the wiser that devils walked among them. Richard envied them and their ignorance. Some part of him wished he could turn the clock back and just never get out of bed this morning. But there was another side, a side that told him this was who he always was, even if he didn’t know it. Though afraid, he felt sharper than he ever had, and that was the part of him that was enjoying the ride.
He turned another of the yellowed pages, pages he had read a dozen or more times before but never with such focus. Beth sat alongside him, reading what little of it she could.
Ted leaned back in his chair, occasionally offering unhelpful advice. “It is probably something like a rain dance, right? You could do that to summon the witch. You guys do weird kinds of shit like that, right?”
“You can’t summon witches.” Richard glanced from the book to Ted. “You can summon spirits, demons, and other things that exist outside our plane of existence, but you can’t summon something that’s already here. I told you that already.”
Ted scoffed. “This isn’t like some stupid dance-off, is it? Like the song where the devil offers Johnny a fiddle of gold against his soul, and they had a fiddle-off?” Ted’s eyes rolled at the absurdity of it. “Hell, I hope it’s not a dance-off.”
“A dance-off!” Richard snapped his fingers together.
“What? Are you serious? I was joking. Man, this occult shit is really stupid.”
“Yeah, what are you saying, Richard?” Beth said, ignoring Ted.
“Well, I don’t mean it’s an actual dance-off, but that gives me an idea. I think I know what it might be, but it’s not in my book. I remember my group back home talking about something like it; they called it a Mind Brace, or something. The witch is trying to scry us. He’s got his eye out there searching, looking for us. There’s a way to try and find that, grab onto it, and look back through it at him. I don’t know much about witches fighting each other, but it sounds like something they might do in a Witch’s Dance. We could find his consciousness out there, and then find out where he is physically.”
“Great.” Ted slapped his hands together. “So we call your buddy Kord—”
“The Kord.”
“Right. We call your buddy, The Kord, ask him how you do this, then you shoot your brain out there and get us a lock. Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, no.” Richard shook his head furiously. “No, not me. I mean, we’ll call The Kord, and he’ll do it and tell us where the witch is. I’m not really qualified for that level of ritual. I mean, what happens if I open my brain up and some spirit jumps in, or some dick ghast tries to possess me or something? Man, what if a goblin tries to wreck my brain with illusions?”
Beth furrowed her brow. “Can that happen? Are you opening yourself up for something like that?”
“I don’t know! I mean…” Richard absent-mindedly rubbed at his chest where the necklace had been. “I didn’t think that daeva would show up either, but he did! I didn’t know any of this was real this morning! What if goblins are real? What if minotaurs or mermaids are real?” A sudden realization poured over Richard. “Oh crap guys, what if aliens are real?”
“Dude has a point.” Ted nodded. “I mean, not about the aliens or anything, but I figured as much about the rest of it. I think it’s becoming painfully clear that Richard doesn’t actually know what the hell is going on. He was thinking that the witch was fifty years old, but the daeva told us he’s hundreds of years old. The best Richard has is an educated guess. He’s opened a lot of this up himself. Hell, we could be staring down alien mermaids here in the next twenty minutes for all we know.”
“Alien mermaids don’t exist!” Richard shot back.
“Are you sure? Are you sure they don’t exist, Richard? I don’t want to take the risk. God only knows what an alien mermaid would do to you.”
“No, that’s not true, Ted.” Beth shot back, standing up for Richard. “The daeva told us as much. It’s been behind things, manipulating the outcome. It’s not Richard’s fault. This whole thing got started because of us. Richard wanted to turn away, and you and I pushed him into it.”
“Oh yeah? And you missed the part where he said that if Richard’s plan actually worked how he expected that the damn witch would have eaten all our faces off, right? You missed that part?”
Beth took a deep breath, but Richard butted in. “He’s right, Beth.” His gut twisted with guilt; it hurt him to admit it. “I’m out of my fishbowl here—this is the deep end for me. I’ve read this stuff, I know it, but I never knew I had to take it so seriously. I don’t have any practical experience with any of this.”
“Richard, I’m not saying that we shouldn’t call The Kord. We should. But none of this is your fault. You’ve done better than any of us could have hoped for. You’re the reason we’re still alive.”
Her words were like coffee for his soul, it perked him up and gave him strength to keep going. As long as Beth was with him, he had hope. She was strong and confident—everything he wasn’t.
Ted breathed out a sigh and crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong, Beth.” It was the best Ted would do.
“All right, Richard,” said Beth, “so here’s what we’ll do. You call The Kord again, see where he’s at and see what we can do before he gets here. Find out what this Mind Brace, Witch’s Dance thing is, and see if he can help us out with that.” She smiled and rubbed his shoulder. “Either way, we’re with you.”
“Yeah, we’re with you, bud.” Ted nodded. “Until I can stick that witch and we’re done.”
Richard nodded and sucked in a breath. So many people were counting on him. So much of what happened had been dependent on him making the right choices. There was a witch loose in Bridgedale, and he was the hunt
er on its trail.
I have to be careful. I have to be smart. I can’t let anyone get hurt.
After they finished eating and paid their bill, Beth asked the waitress if they could use their phone.
“None of ya’ll Bigfoot hunters carry a cellphone?” The waitress asked with a stiff face.
“Left them with the monkey suit,” Beth said with a full grin of perfect white teeth. “We won’t be long.”
The waitress, her face still drooping like hot wax, finally relented. “Don’t you take too long. Owner’ll have a conniption fit if’n you run the bill up.”
“We’ll make it quick,” Beth said, her smile still as bright as ever.
Richard glanced once at the waitress and then at Beth. The waitress groaned and walked off. Stepping in then, he got The Kord’s number from a note in his book and punched it in. The phone rang several times.
Finally, The Kord answered. “Hello?”
“The Kord? It’s me Richard again.”
“Richard? Good. Did you figure out what it is we’re dealing with? I want you guys to stay put after you do. No need to go mixing anything up until we get there. We’re still a few hours out. I just got Cherrytop, Severin and Ripsaw up, but we’re still waiting on Deezenutz. His mom said he spent the night at his girlfriend’s house, so we’re on our way over there right now.” He spoke a million words a minute.
“Yeah, yeah. Gotcha.” Richard said, struggling to keep up. “But yeah, we think we know what it is. We think it’s a plague witch.”
“Got ourselves a plague witch!” The Kord said. A hoot of cheers followed.
“Plague witch! Yes! YES!” A muffled cheer came from the other end of the phone.
“Where are you, exactly?” Richard asked a little nervously as he twined the phone cord with his finger.
“I told you, we’re on our way. We’re in the Silver Bullet.” The Silver Bullet was Ripsaw’s name for his silver station wagon. “Cherrytop, look up the chapter on cast bindings!”
Another muffled reply came: “Got it!”
“By the way, Richard, we’ve all been talking and we think Rich-sword would be a better name for you. How’s that fit?”
Richard smiled at Beth, who was patiently waiting. “Yeah, that sounds great, but I actually have another question for you. What’s a Witch’s Dance? Is that the same thing as a Mind Brace?”
“Wait, what?” Richard was about to speak before The Kord cut in. The others were talking in the background. “No, wait a second, Rich-sword. Guys, guys, shut the hell up for a second okay? He’s talking about a damn Mind Brace.”
“Well, I just wanted to know if it’s the same thing as a Witch’s Dance.”
Richard could hear the muffled chatting from somewhere else in the car; he thought it was probably Severin. “A Mind Brace? Yes! Hell yeah!” There was a round of hooting.
“Guys! I said shut up a second! Yeah, Rich-sword? Maybe. A Witch’s Dance might be the same thing, but hell, man, that’s dangerous stuff. I can’t say for sure either way, I’ve never heard of it.”
“Yeah, well, we think this douche is scrying us. We were ambushed. We think he’s out there getting ready to run or hit us again.”
“Hell, you were ambushed? What’s going on there now?”
“Well there was a daeva—”
“There was a friggin’ daeva?!” The Kord shouted into the phone. The background started their muffled chanting of the word daeva.
“Yes,” Richard whispered. “I just talked with him. He was kind of a dick. He said he grabbed my ritual and aimed it for me, and the witch had him enslaved before, but after we destroyed the name’s placement, the witch was weakened and the daeva was able to get loose and come talk with us. He said the witch is vulnerable right now, but could still shrug off the dagger ritual, and that he couldn’t help me again. And if someone performs a Witch’s Dance, we could try and get a lock on the witch. So I was thinking maybe you could, you know, do the ritual?” Richard trailed off and listened to nothing but silence on the other end.
The Kord finally cleared his voice and spoke. “Sure thing, Rich-sword. I mean, yeah. I’d totally roll with that son of a bitch, no doubt. Plague witch, I mean, for me? What’s that, like the fifth or sixth I’ve beaten the shit out of. No doubt.” The Kord laughed on the other end. “But I can’t really do it from here. You’re going to have to do it.”
“Me? The Kord, I really can’t. I don’t even know how!” Richard’s voice started to rise with panic. “Seriously, man, can’t you, like, pull over for fifteen minutes and get it done?”
“No can do, buddy. We’re working double time, quick as we can. We didn’t even stop to eat, just got drive-through. Hell, we even skipped Wendy’s when we saw there was a line. Had to settle for Furger Burger.” Richard heard him slurp from a straw as if to emphasize his point. “But listen, man, you’ve got this. Seriously, you have his name and broke its placement? You talked with a friggin’ daeva for shit’s sake. Dude, you got this.” Richard could hear the slick smile on the other end somehow. “Besides man, it’s impossible here. You need connections here. I’ve never been to Bridgedale. You’ve got an emotional connection with this witch. He’s totally your bitch, dude.”
“How about we just wait?” Richard glanced up to a clock on the wall. “You guys will be here soon. Can you do it then?”
“Well, we’ll be there soon, for sure. But I think you can do this, Rich-sword. The bastard is weak. You locate him for us, all right? It’s not that bad. You have your manual, right?”
Richard nodded. A moment passed before he realized The Kord wouldn’t know he nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’ve got it here.”
“Take it easy, man. How about we just skip the Mind Brace for now. If the bastard is so weak, let’s just go for straight scrying. You have his name, yeah? Get into your book and find the section on scrying. You’re going to use that witch’s name and perform the ritual. You’re going to find him, and if not, then no harm, no foul, right? It’s cake and you’ve got fork in hand, yo.”
“Really? You think so?” Richard asked uneasily.
“Absolutely,” The Kord said with stark, glowing confidence.
“O-okay.” Richard nodded. “But isn’t it like the same thing? If we’re both scrying for each other, doesn’t that force a Mind Brace?”
“Dude, you’re worrying too much and you’re kicking ass. Think about that. You’ve destroyed an ancient witch’s placement, you’ve stood against a wight, and you’ve traded barbs with a damn daeva. Scrying? That part is cake; eat that shit man. Eat it. Have I ever lied to you?”
I did. I did confront a wight, and negotiated with a daeva.
“Yeah, you know what? You’re right.” Richard nodded again. “We did do that. There were even some monster Sankai too. We got past them too! Scrying is cake; you’re totally right. Seriously.” The Kord always knew how to get him up.
Yeah. He’s right. This will be the easy part. We can get this damn night over soon.
“Sankai? Tell me all about that later, all right?” Someone else in the car echoed the word ‘Sankai?’ and Richard heard more muffled speaking. He heard scratchy noise as The Kord covered the receiver and said something incoherent before he spoke to Richard again. “So you’re set? Find a quiet place, get to scrying, and we’re good to go, right? You’re going to need to find some place that can help you focus those energies of yours.”
“Hell yes!” Richard pounded his hand against the table. He glanced up to see the waitress giving him an irritated glance. “I mean, yeah. I’m on it. We’ll get this done.”
“It’s time for a witch burning, Rich-sword. I’m out.” The Kord hung up the phone.
Man, that guy gets me pumped up.
Richard stuck his chest out and hung up the phone. “I know what we’re going to do next. We’re going to go scry this bastard. See where the son of a bitch is nesting for when The Kord brings the fire to burn his ass.” Richard grinned to himself and nodded to Ted and Beth.
<
br /> Man, this is big. We’re finally doing something. We’re going on the offensive.
“We need to go somewhere private, somewhere I can go into a trance and try and scry him. I’ve never done it before, but it should be cake.” Richard bobbed his head up and down. “I think.”
Should be easy, right? Yeah, easy. I think.
Chapter 15
“You’re all piddle-patting around and wasting time, it sounds like.” Minges slurped on a fresh cup of coffee. “What’s this scrying hoo-ha you’re talking about now?”
“It’s casting your mind out, to see a window of another. Find out where someone is, see what they’re doing, all that.” Richard scratched his finger idly against the table. “I’m not a powerful practitioner, though.”
“And this is another one of those things you’ve never done before?” Minges scoured him with a skeptical look. “Some powerful hoodoo that you seem to be able to call up as needed?”
“I mean... I guess?” Richard shrugged his tired shoulders. “I’ve gone through the rituals before, but I didn’t really trust them. Trust is a powerful component to magic—you need to believe it’ll work. Besides, like the daeva had said, there were powerful energies in the air then, things you can grab onto. I could feel it all night, like an electric buzz under my skin. Maybe it was his name breaking, or just the fact that there were so many potent creatures running about. Whatever it was, magic just seemed to come a little bit more easily.”
“And you’re drinking the Kool-Aid now, like you said.” Minges smiled. “You get all this tied up in your head and it becomes a lot easier to fall into the dreams. Not to mention that tar you were eating before.”
Is this all a dream?
Richard wanted to curse at Minges, tell him he was wrong, but, instead, all he could do was clench his fist, and wonder. Something itched beneath his skull, a feeling that told him it wasn’t all quite real.
Is he right? Is this all a dream? Am I insane? No.
He took a deep breath and pushed the nagging dread deeper. He couldn’t doubt himself now, not after all he’d been through. He had to stop the witch. He had to do what he could to make it all mean something.