He remained seated. “I thought maybe we could spend time getting to know each other a little better.”
I nodded and then took a seat again.
“I heard about the immigration trials. Why don’t you tell me about those in your own words? Or what it was like when you first got to Xest? Your childhood in Salem. I want to hear everything.”
We stood in front of the broker office several hours later, and I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed. A marathon would’ve been easier than the mental chess I’d played, trying to dodge any answers or details that might come back to bite me. Not exactly a piece of cake, since I had no clue what to avoid. The questions had been nonstop until I’d begged exhaustion from the time difference. That hadn’t been a lie.
“It was a lovely evening. I will see you very soon,” Xazier said as we stood outside, looking into the darkness of the office.
I didn’t completely relax until he disappeared.
I walked in, let the door shut, and then leaned against it, a long, slow sigh flowing out, carrying all the tension of the evening with it. The first meeting was over. In retrospect, it hadn’t been that bad. It had gone more along the lines of a blind date than a meeting with a demon. It had been manageable, if a bit unpleasant.
I pushed off the door, making my way across the office. A shadowy figure sat at my desk. I would’ve been more surprised if Hawk hadn’t been waiting.
“How did it go?” he asked, standing up and walking in my direction, his gaze taking in my bare legs. The only piece of clothing Xazier had returned to me was my jacket.
“Not horrible. Lots of useless questions about my childhood, but nothing meaningful.”
His gaze continued running the length of me until it settled on my lips.
He didn’t stop until he was a few inches from me.
“No information you give him is useless. Remember that. He’ll store it all away for a purpose.” His stare deepened. “I can smell him on you. Did he touch you?”
“He helped me with my jacket.”
He nodded.
The office was dark, shadowing his expression, but I didn’t need to see his face to feel the weight of his unhappiness.
“You’re going to meet him again if he calls.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway.
He turned to walk past me and then paused, his shoulder nearly brushing mine. He looked at me one last time before walking away.
15
I was on my third cocoa of the day, all from the Sweet Shop. I’d rather go down the street and pretend to check in than into the back room, where Gillian had set up a court on the couch. If you walked back there, you better be ready to pay homage. I’d seen Zab, Musso, Oscar, and Bibbi already make that mistake. Bertha had walked out mumbling curses minutes ago before she went upstairs, slamming the door behind her.
“I told her it wasn’t a good idea to stay back there today, but she kept insisting,” Musso said, shrugging his massive shoulders and raising puffy brows.
Bibbi looked over at me, shaking her head slowly, as if this matter needed to be handled. From the looks she gave, she thought I should be the one handling it. If someone didn’t do something, Gilli might end up poisoned soon.
Hawk walked in, breaking Bibbi’s gaze of death.
Instead of ignoring me, the way we’d silently decided to do most days since the latest fight, he walked over to me with a piece of yellow parchment in his hands.
“This was nailed to the door. We have a meeting at dusk.” He dropped the parchment on the desk in front of me, the paper and form all too familiar. Immigration.
I skimmed the notice, which was short and to the point. I had a meeting. Not him.
As soon as Hawk walked out of the room, Bibbi and Zab both walked over, scanning the parchment together.
Bibbi sat on the corner of my desk. “Why do you want to meet immigration again? They don’t like you much. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
I tapped a finger on the parchment, remembering exactly how much they did hate me. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to have Hawk along. It wasn’t like the meeting with Xazier, which had an altogether different vibe. With immigration, all the hate, distrust, and revulsion was out on the table.
“They might know something about my origins, and my origins might have something to do with Dread.”
“That makes sense.” Bibbi nodded, staring at my cocoa with a strange intensity while she drank her tea.
“Did you want me to go get you a cocoa?” I asked, then sipped my drink under the evil eye of Bibbi.
“No. I’m fine.”
“What’s the deal with the cocoa?” Zab asked.
“I don’t think it tastes very good lately,” Bibbi said, her tone suddenly snooty and her face matching.
“Really?” Zab nearly gave himself whiplash, he swung his head so fast toward Bibbi.
Musso laughed but then caught himself, looking at his papers and muttering, “Read something funny.”
“Yes, it’s bad cocoa,” Bibbi said. “I’d rather have tea.” She walked toward the back room. She paused at the threshold. Her shoulders rose with a deep inhale, and then she continued.
“Zab, did you bring your cauldron when you moved here?” I asked.
He squinted, looking toward the ceiling. “I think so. It might be in one of my boxes.”
“Good. I need to borrow it.”
I took a couple more steps toward where I thought their cottage would appear and then retreated again. It was a good twenty minutes past nightfall and still no sign. Every minute they took, the more my hackles rose. They’d been working against me since I’d met them. Thinking they could be bartered with might have been the stupidest move yet. It was one of the only moves we had, though. I had to trace back my origins to get to Dread, and this was the single best way, whether I liked it or not.
“They’ll show. They wouldn’t have bothered to reply if they weren’t,” Hawk said from beside me, in the same spot he’d been since we got here.
“What if it’s a trap?”
“I don’t think so. They want a steady supply of what’s in your hand,” he said, looking at the bottle I carried.
My attention was drawn away from where I thought the hags would show. “How did you know I’d even bring some?” I asked.
“I know what was in your letter.” He smiled.
Damn mailman. Must be nice to have those kinds of connections. Maybe I should do some mailing and bring a net next time.
I was still staring at him when he said, “One of them is approaching.”
I spun around. Where was the cottage? Where were the other two? Why was there a lone figure approaching in the distance?
The Lead Hag neared as a lone figure. She hadn’t exactly been a favorite, but it was probably a tossup. None of them had liked me.
“Well, this is interesting. I think someone might be getting greedy,” Hawk said, glancing at my hand and the bottle I held.
She walked slowly toward us, taking her time, her eyes fixated on the bottle.
“Is that it? Let me taste it,” she said, looking nowhere else. She clenched her hands, as if she was struggling to not wrest the bottle from my hands.
“No,” I said. “You’ve already gotten a taste of my potions, as your face can attest. This is going to go my way. You give the information. Then you get it.”
Hawk let out a quick laugh. He might’ve approved of my handling, but Lead Hag wasn’t thrilled. Her eyes turned to slits as her mouth flattened. She could stare me down all day. I was already a citizen of Xest and there was nothing she could do about that. She was done calling the shots. Although I should probably check into that matter before I pushed too hard.
“Do you have information for me?” I asked.
It took another few seconds for her to answer, and it was clear she was not used to taking orders. She glanced at Hawk, as if she’d rather deal with him.
“She’s asking you a question,�
� he said.
When he was good, he was really good. It was unfortunate that those times were so few and far between.
Lead Hag looked at me, her chest rising and falling a few times before she said, “She was on our rolls. She was a citizen here, born and bred until she was twenty-two or so. Occupation was listed as a Whimsy witch over at the wish factory.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me? Any information on my father?”
“No and no. Now give me the potion.” She shot a hand out, and I held the potion up and out of her grasp.
“Was I born here? Was I on the rolls at any point?” I asked.
“No. She disappeared and that was it. If you’d been born here, we wouldn’t have been able to give you an immigration test. You would’ve been a born citizen.”
She spat out that last bit as if I’d proven myself the idiot she thought I was. How was I supposed to have known? It wasn’t like they had law books floating around. Actually, I should probably have checked into that. Maybe they did.
“I gave you your answers. Now give me the potion.” She moved closer.
Hawk stepped in front of me. “I have a question first. Do you know anything about Dread?”
The anger faded from her expression as she glanced about. “No, but I wish I did,” she said softly.
For once, it seemed we might be on the same side.
“Here. You can have it.” I held out the potion. It seemed fair. “If you have any further information, I can supply more.”
She gripped the potion in her hands tighter. “And I’ll get it whenever I want?”
I nodded. “As long as you’re offering me some information of value, so I’d hurry if I were you.”
She hated me, but she’d be back if she found something else. That I was sure of.
She left, and I had more questions than before. Nothing was adding up.
I turned and headed back toward the shop with nothing but questions and a man I didn’t want to ask anything of.
“You’re going to eventually ask, so you might as well do it now,” Hawk said.
For the record, he was ignoring me as well. I might have started it if you wanted to get technical about it, but he didn’t deserve conversation. He was an active participant in the silence, and that counted for something.
He was also correct. I was going to break down and ask him anyway. It made it all so much worse to have to prove him right, but I’d dwell on that later.
“I thought that magic was typically inherited, like it was somewhat genetic and you fell in line with your parents to some degree. How would it be possible for a Whimsy witch to give birth to…” To what? A magical freak of nature? The only witch in Xest that Dread was afraid of? “How did she give birth to me?”
“You mean to a Maker? There’s no reason to pretend you’re anything less, and you might be more,” Hawk said, watching me with those intense eyes that were impossible to hide from.
Maker. There it was. I’d learned enough to have suspected it was the case. I’d feared it was the truth. I wouldn’t even think about the “more.”
Why did that label scare me more than Whimsy had? I’d been so comfortable being seen as less than. Now that I was on the top of the magical heap, I couldn’t get the word out, hated that he’d said it, as if speaking it made it true. It felt like a line of demarcation, that there’d be no going back from it.
I shouldn’t have asked him. When would I ever learn?
“Why does that bother you so much?” he asked. “Why is being important and worthy so terrifying to you?”
“Am I supposed to pay you by the minute or by session?” I asked, and then turned and walked away, in case he somehow mistook that for an actual question.
“Getting a little testy. Must’ve struck a nerve.”
“I’ll strike a jaw if you don’t shut up.”
He laughed. “Message delivered. You aren’t ready to delve into your inner demons quite yet.”
“You care to share your demons? Like why I’ve never seen you hold the gem? What are you hiding?”
“I’ll tell if you do.”
I nearly tripped, missing a bump in the walk as my head whipped around to him. That was a mighty tempting carrot to dangle. Of all the stories to have laid out before me, Hawk’s was the one I’d pick. I’d start with asking about that strange creature that he shifted into, then the avoidance of the stone, and I had a feeling that was only the tip of the iceberg. The ninety percent out of sight was probably a binge-worthy story.
Did that mean I’d have to unfold my story for him? He might already know most of it. His sources were deep, but I wasn’t handing over the rest, and Hawk wouldn’t take a one-sided deal.
We were back at the office before I cracked.
He opened the door for me and said, “To your question, it’s extremely rare for a Whimsy witch to give birth to a Maker.”
I glanced inside but didn’t move. I needed one last answer. “Rare or impossible?”
His gaze locked on mine. “Before you? I would’ve said impossible.”
16
Mertie walked out of the building, lit up a cigarette with her finger, turned right, and headed down the street. I waited for her to get a bit farther away before I ducked out of my alley, hot on her…hooves? It was what it was.
She walked to the great grey tree with black leaves, ducking under its canopy.
I edged up slowly, making sure I wasn’t followed.
“You shouldn’t be following people in times like these. It’s a good way to get yourself killed,” she said, right before she took an impossibly long drag on her cigarette until there was nothing but a stub.
That wasn’t a threat. That was just Mertie, pleasant to the core, a regular bundle of joy.
“I need to talk to you.”
“I assumed, since I’ve never seen you sneaking after anyone else.” She reached into her back pocket, pulled out another cigarette, and lit it. “Well? Spit it out. I’m almost off break.”
“Do you have records of all the witches who’ve worked in the factory?”
“You certainly can’t imagine Marvin handling it? He can barely tie his shoes in the morning. No, I do it all. I’ve got access to every record involved with everything in that place. I have all the headaches and yet haven’t gotten a raise in a decade.”
“Could you look up someone’s records for me?”
She rolled her eyes. “I can look up anything imaginable.”
“What’s the price?”
She didn’t respond right away, looking toward the factory and taking another drag of her cigarette. She finally looked back at me.
“Is this completely confidential?”
“Did you see me waving a flag outside the factory?” I asked, using the only language she understood: sarcasm.
“If I need to get out of there, you’re going to help me. That’s my price.”
“You want to leave Xest?” It was one thing to get a witch a job with Lorinda. There was no way I could pass off Mertie in Rest.
“Rest? I wouldn’t set foot in that place. I mean out of the factory. I need somewhere else to go, and I don’t have any friends. You people keep taking in everyone anyway. What’s one more?”
“Why would you want to come to the broker building? Don’t you realize what’s going on? What’s coming for us?”
“Yes, but I want to have options. Is it a deal or not?”
“Yeah, I mean, I guess.” Hawk was going to kill me. Although he’d gotten us stuck with Gillian, so who was he to talk? Bibbi and Zab, they’d definitely kill me. Didn’t matter. What were the odds she’d even come? Like she’d said, she just wanted options.
Even if she did come, would she last more than a day? She’d hate it there. We laughed. We were pleasant. She’d be running back to the factory.
“Who’s the witch you’re looking for?”
I handed her a slip of paper with the name Jossi Tudor written on it. “I’m not sure if that’s a
ccurate, so if you could look up different last or first names…”
“You don’t make anything easy, do you?” She took the slip and pocketed it, then looked down her nose at me. “Was there something else, or did you want to eat up my entire break?”
I turned and left. She could not move into the broker building or I’d be the most hated witch in my home.
I was halfway home when I stopped short.
Xazier popped up in front of me. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting you—or I guess anyone, really—to pop up like that.” I made my way around him, hoping it was an unfortunate coincidence.
“Mind if I walk with you for a spell?”
“Knock yourself out.” Not the most diplomatic invite, but then again, I wasn’t exactly feeling polite at the moment. First Mertie and now him. It was as if my night were cursed.
Xazier narrowed his eyes slightly, giving me the impression he wasn’t pleased with my flippant reply, but he quickly regrouped and fell into step with me.
“I wanted to tell you I had a nice time getting to know you better the other day. It’s clear you’ve had some hardships in your life and that they’ve molded you a certain way.” He had a pleasantly condescending smile as he spoke.
This was starting off as wonderful as I’d imagined.
“It’s remarkable how you’ve overcome everything you have,” he said. “And then when you got here, to have everyone try to push you out but to still stick to your guns in the face of all those who didn’t want you, even allies. I did hear that right, didn’t I? That Hawk had a hand in trying to force you out?”
He kept staring, waiting for me to acknowledge his question.
I could be naive, stubborn, and a long list of other faults, but Xazier’s game was painfully obvious. He was trying to weaken me, poking around for my soft spot. It wouldn’t work.
“We’ve come a long way since then. I don’t hold that against him.” A couple more minutes and I’d be at the broker building. Once a week was already too much time to spend with Xazier.
The Most Wanted Witch: Tales of Xest Page 9