The Binding Witch and the Fortune Taker

by Laura Rich

“Wright speaking.” A cool, deep voice answered.

  “Elder Wright?” I hoped this was the one time I could have a civil conversation with the man who ran the colony. “Hi. Sir. It’s, ah, Kate.” I silently cursed myself for still being intimidated by him. “I need you to send my Mom home when she gets there.”

  “Why would we do that?” he said, his voice was stern and unyielding. “We just sent for her to help two girls who have fallen ill.”

  “Because what they have fallen ill from is right here!” I said. “She needs to get back here and-”

  “You make no sense, girl,” he said. “This is a simple cold.”

  I rolled my eyes. Did he not understand even the basics of how this worked? “Well, they’re going to die from a ‘simple cold’ none of you has ever gotten, by the way, if you don’t send her home immediately!”

  “Young lady, you will-”

  “I will kick your ass to Tuesday if you don’t comply and you know I can, you big…big…jackass!” I yelled into the phone and hung up and stomped my foot.

  It didn’t matter if he didn’t know I was only a hedge witch and the worst I could do was charm him to fall in love with his dog. As long as he thought I was a full-fledged witch like my Mom, well, hopefully he would be intimidated enough to pass on the message. I paced the floor as I considered my options. Did I have time to wait for Mom?

  A wave of nausea and sudden weakness answered for me.

  There was no time to wait. I had to destroy those talismans, but first I needed some supplies.

  I flipped back the rug covering the trap door and puzzled how to open it without my Mom. The thing was easily a hundred pounds and the weight was a great deterrent to a random human who might stumble upon it - and me. I cast around for something to lever it up and remembered the extra crowbar under the sink, with the rest of the tools we used to keep the truck and trailer going.

  I wedged the crowbar into the sliver between the door and the floor and, with consider effort, it creaked open a crack. The tip of my steel-toed boot fit nicely in the space and I used the bar and my fingers until it stood open at ninety degrees.

  I ran down the steps to the workshop. I couldn’t face Madame Miri empty-handed, but what would I need? I followed the practice my mother used when working out a spell to solve a problem. I pulled a yellow legal pad off the cluttered shelf and listed what I knew:

  One: My mother can detect other witches, and she didn’t detect M. Miri, therefore M. Miri is not a witch.

  Two: If M. Miri is not a witch, she has to be using a talisman to do whatever it was she did to Lily, Ella and me.

  Three: M. Miri has a talisman: the silver coins.

  Four: M. Miri probably killed four people with her talismans.

  Five: There might be a whole lot more dead people here soon.

  Me included.

  I gulped.

  My stomach churned as I ticked off the symptoms I observed in the humans: weakness, confusion, and general craziness. Lily and Ella had nausea and fever. Were their symptoms different because they were witches, albeit bound ones? Which symptoms would I develop next?

  Why would Madame Miri do this? I scanned the bookshelves for anything that shouted, ‘I have the answer!’ but nothing jumped out at me. There could be information in Mom’s journal, where she kept all of her important notes on magic, but I knew I’d never find it. That thing was triple-charmed from prying eyes and even if I stumbled across it, it would probably just show me fish sauce recipes or something like that.

  I flung the yellow notepad across the room. If Mom were here, she would know exactly what to do. I don’t even know if my destroying the talismans would stop the progression of symptoms…sometimes that made the change permanent.

  This was a waste of time! I needed to know what the talisman did and how to undo it before things progressed beyond the point of no return. After all, nobody uses a talisman to impart sunshine and unicorns. They are usually made to guard and protect against evil, but they can often be twisted to be offensive in nature or to achieve a certain goal for those who wielded them. What was Madame Miri’s end game?

  Before I lost my nerve or developed a weird tick, I scrawled a quick note to Mom and started to gear up to find my answers.

  10

  My heavy backpack pinched my shoulders as I crouched between the rennie trailers, and tried to figure out which one belonged to Madame Miri. I shivered, though it wasn’t particularly cold that night as the cold front had moved offshore and left us with the typical November humidity.

  Most of the performers and vendors stayed in one section of the campground reserved for staff, so she couldn’t be far from me. It was just a matter of finding her and…what was I going to do, exactly?

  My pack was full of my unsold love charms (hey, they can be used offensively, if needed - love can make people so pliable), and a few others I had whipped up that morning with Mom. They would still be effective until tomorrow’s sunrise dissolved the magic like the battery power of a child’s favorite toy. But even so, dozens of weak batteries were better than none at all, right?

  I also had a sleeping charm, a truth charm and something for dandruff, which I reverse-engineered to cause scalp-itch rather than cure it. Clever, but mostly useless unless we’re talking gag gifts.

  The one really powerful thing I added were several health potions in small brown bottles. Mom brewed these for her small clientele of desperate humans who sought out alternative treatment for chronic illness like arthritis or fibromyalgia. They swore by it and she charged very little to keep them fully supplied.

  I had noticed the stock was lower than usual and deduced she had taken some with her to the colony. If she thought it would help Lily and Ella, it might help me if she wasn’t back by the time my symptoms progressed.

  I thought of the contents of my pack grimly. Who was I kidding? These were a poor substitute for real magic and, while useful for day-to-day maladies, were utterly useless for defensive purposes, as far as I knew. Other than throwing handfuls of random charms at her, I had no idea what I might use them for, but it was better than going in empty-handed.

  Well, I wasn’t quite empty-handed. I had a cool, carved staff from Mom’s arsenal. Because carrying a big stick always seemed like a good idea when going up against someone who’d whammied you. I could start with civil conversation and, failing that, I could just hit her really hard.

  I balanced the staff under my arm to zip up my jacket, and almost dropped it. The breeze picked up to a strong wind and whistled through the pine needles. Leaves scuttled across my path like scared little mice.

  I was glad for the noise to cover my footsteps as I tried to act like I always took a walk in the dark with a backpack and staff. Luckily I was in the company of people who did the same thing, because I met a few. We nodded as we passed each other like we were part of some kind of secret rennie society. Perhaps they were trying to hunt down their attacker too? More likely on their way to a role-playing game.

  I shook my head. “Focus, Kate!”

  “Focus what, Kate?” said a familiar, heavily accented voice behind me.

  I jumped about three feet in the air and executed a quick turn and wild strike with my staff. Indira deflected it in a movement so graceful it could have been choreographed. My brain filed that away as my heart slammed into my ribcage. I registered her face and tried to catch my breath. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  Indira grinned.

  Irritation welled up inside me. “You did that on purpose!” I said and pulled down my sweatshirt with short jerks where it had twisted up to my ribcage in mid-flight. I glared at her.

  “Nice night for walk, you think?” she said.

  I glared at her.

  “Don’t be mad, Kate,” she said. “You look so funny sneaky, I had to say hi.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m hilarious,” I said. “Glad I could amuse you.”

  “I am happy you did not go to Fortune…” she grasped for the right w
ord, “Taker.”

  I laughed. “It’s Fortune Teller,” I said, and wondered why she thought I didn’t go see Madam Miri. “But I did go.”

  Her eyes grew wide and she looked me up and down. “But you look… same.”

  I tilted my head at that comment, thought about her swift movement just now, and considered her, for the first time, as a whole person who might have a life outside her renfest tent. We did. It made sense everyone else did, too. I narrowed my eyes. “Indira, what do you do when you’re not selling saris?”

  She drew herself up to her full height, which failed to reach my chin. That would have been laughable if the look on her face wasn’t dead serious.

  “Kalaripayattu,” she said.

  My face screwed up into what my mom calls my “huh face” which, if I judged by the look on Indira’s face, is probably every bit as annoying to her as it is to my mom. I wiped it clean and tried again, this time with words. “What is that?”

  Her face settled back into an almost-grin and she shrugged. “Indian martial art.”

  “Ah!” I said and thought of her windmill-arm sweeping away my staff. “That explains your reaction when I tried to hit you with my staff.” Hope welled inside me. Maybe I could persuade her to join me? If I had a bad-ass fighter on my side, the scales would surely be balanced.

  “You not hit anybody with that staff,” she said with a laugh. “I teach you. Later. Now say what happened when you see Fortune Taker.”

  I shook my head. “Fortune Teller, Indira. Teller.”

  Indira drew closer. “Are you sure, Kate?”

  The look on her face made me pause. “Uh, no?”

  She looked me up and down and narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to fight the Fortune Taker?”

  “Why do you ask?” I said.

  “I see her go in, people go in, come out act strange,” she said. “Not right. Maybe I have seen before.”

  I gave her a sideways look. “Seen her before?”

  “Seen bad daayani before,” she said.

  I shook my head. “Indira, I think what she’s doing to people is more than making them strange, I think she’s killing people.”

  Indira put a hand to her chest.

  I nodded. “At the festival she was at before this, four people went missing. They were found yesterday. Dead. She’s wanted by the police for questioning.”

  “But you-” she started.

  “Right.” I said. “So, I think I might be next. Me and everyone you saw in line at her tent.”

  Indira pursed her lips. “Where is your mother?”

  “She went to see the Bi-” I said, then corrected myself. “She went to help some other people the fortune teller might have seen. That was before I figured out what might be going on. I left a message for her to come back here, but I don’t know if she’ll get it. You know, in time.”

  She sucked in her breath.

  “So, I’m going to see if I can get some answers.” I said.

  “You will not be alone!” Indira lifted her chin and clenched her fists.

  “No, Indira,” I said. How do I explain it if she sees Miri do something magical? “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ll be fine.”

  “You will not be alone.” Indira repeated.

  The look on her face told me there would be no arguing.

  I shrugged. “Fine.” I guess Mom could make some kind of spell to erase Indira’s memory of whatever she sees tonight. Maybe this would be a good thing.

  How bad could things get with this tiny ball of wrath on my side?

  11

  I motioned for her to walk with me. She fell in step next to me, and her short, strong steps matched my long stride.

  “So, what is… plan?” Indira said.

  “Oh, it’s a good one.” I said. “Step one: I find her. Step two: we fight. Step three: I get the talismans.”

  Indira appeared to mull this over. “That is not good plan, Kate.”

  “You think?” I laughed. “It’s all I’ve got.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Good plan is, ah… what do you call it?

  “Better?” I offered.

  “No!” she said, and slapped my arm. “I remember word now. Details!”

  “Ouch!” I said. “Okay!” I rubbed my arm. Her little hand stung like a bee. “What do you recommend?”

  “First, I show where she lives.” Indira said. “Then, we…” she smacked her palms together.

  “Hit her?” I said. This sounded a lot like my plan.

  Indira glared shook her head. She made puppet motions with her hands, as if they were talking to each other.

  “Talk to her?” I said, then realized what she meant. “Oh! Confront her?”

  “Show strong,” she pointed to her biceps, “but talk to start. Get more… to know this way.”

  “Oh, right,” I said. “That makes sense. We need to find out how the talismans work in order to figure out who to stop them. Do you know where to find her?”

  “Yes!” Indira said. “Follow!” She took off through the woods.

  I followed. k`1`2

  12

  Madame Miri’s trailer was even smaller than ours. It was an aging canned ham-type thing with a flaking paint job and dented fenders, nestled in the forest about a five minute walk from where the campground officially ended. Broken scrub trees revealed the path she took to haul her small trailer through the undergrowth. One of those early hybrid SUVs, the ones that tipped over when they took a turn too fast, was still hooked up to the trailer, ready for a quick getaway.

  I felt a chill I wasn’t altogether sure had anything to do with my impending fever. I wondered if we would hear sirens before we got what we came for. Namely, information on how to stop the progression of heart failure via magical talisman.

  Indira crouched down behind a tree when we were within sight of Miri’s home and motioned for me to do the same.

  I sort of smooshed myself behind an adjacent Yaupon, but who were we kidding? I was way too tall to hide behind these spindly Texas trees, so I just stayed very still. “What?”

  “Listen!” Indira said.

  Without the hum of an air conditioning unit to act as a muffler, trailer walls afford about as much privacy as having your conversation in public. I could hear a heated discussion taking place inside Miri’s trailer.

  “Think we can get closer so we can hear what they’re saying?” I said.

  Indira paused, then nodded.

  We crept forward and hid just beneath the kitchenette window.

  The smoked glass windows didn’t allow us to identify the second speaker, but the single shadow inside showed that there wasn’t one.

  Madame Miri was in the trailer alone.

  Waving her hands around and shouting in different voices, she was arguing with herself. High-pitched voices, baritone voices, and sometimes her own, she wavered between praise and criticism.

  “Miri!” she yelled in her own scratchy voice. “You could rule the world with this power!”

  “You’re just going to ruin this like you have everything else,” came a lower, distinctly male voice.

  “Shut up!” came a child’s voice. “Just shut up!”

  I did the finger twirl around my ear at Indira, to telegraph my thoughts on Miri’s state of mind.

  Indira nodded.

  I shifted position to get a better view and my heel snapped a twig.

  Indira grabbed my leg, but it was too late.

  The voices in the trailer stopped.

  Miri stomped to the door and flung it open so hard the handle imbedded into the side of the trailer.

  “Who’s there?” she said. She leaped over the steps and landed on the ground in a crouch.

  The woman before us was so utterly changed, I hardly recognized her. To say she was different would indicate her slovenly appearance had changed, but that wasn’t the case. Her grooming still left everything to be desired, but what remained of her hair clung to her skin, which was decidedly red in hue. S
he was thinner than when I’d seen her a few hours ago, too. Her dress gaped about her like a sagging tent and deep hollows beneath her cheekbones gave her eyes a striking, desperate look.

  A breeze blew her scent downwind to us. She smelled like rotten eggs.

  I gagged.

  Miri’s head swiveled slowly to our hiding spot like that creepy trained hawk in the falconer’s show.

  “Come out!” she screeched, and stood with an unnatural grace.

  Indira pushed me down. “Stay!” she hissed.

  “Negatory.” I hissed back and jumped to my feet.

  Indira shook her head. She had started to understand the futility of trying to tell me what to do.

  Moonlight spilled ghostly white into the woods, past the towering pine canopy, and onto the ground. Together, we moved away from our hiding spot and into the clearing in front of the trailer.

  Miri didn’t look human anymore. She advanced on us in a gait that was both halting and fluid. Her face was twisted in hatred.

  “Stop.” Indira said, and held up her hand. Her body was tense and ready to jump into action.

  I figured the odds we could get information out of Miri was close to zero in her current state.

  Miri stopped, jutted out her chin, and sniffed at us, then sneered.

  “Super smell.” I noted softly. That’s a witch sense.

  “You!” Miri said, and pointed at me. “You can’t have it back!” She drew back both hands and directed them at me, fingers splayed. Her palms glowed red and the air around them had begun to waver with heat.

  “It’s mine now!” she screamed.

  A thick stream of red lightning took shape in front of Miri’s palms and headed straight towards us.

  I ducked to the side and grabbed Indira on the way down. We hit the forest floor with a thud. A tree behind us exploded and the whoosh of a million tiny splinters hitting the trees in the background made me shiver.

  “Shit, that was close!” I said. “She’s really trying to kill us!”

  “She really trying to kill you,” Indira said. “But I stop her.” She grabbed my staff and advanced on Miri.