One Broken Legacy

Chapter 28: Among the Cypress and Roses

The ground was still soggy from the rain, making the trek through the untouched woods harder than it should have been. My feet were soiled with mud and each step brought the squirming of muck between my toes. I had tied the jacket around my waist when the humidity became unbearable. My pits were soaked, and I regretted ever stepping foot out of air conditioning.

I could see the clearing a hundred yards ahead and used the last bit of willpower to pick up my pace. I didn't want to face a nature witch in the forest after dark.

There was no sign of life as I approached a small structure, but it was obvious someone lived here. Tree roots braided together to create a living home, an opening at the front serving as a door. There was a small pit where the remains of fire curled in the air, the whisps dancing like they had no care in the world.

I slipped the end of my hair pinout, the three-inch knife was not much but familiar in my hand. I had been foolish to leave without a real weapon and might end up paying the price for my naïve action. I was relying on the element of surprise. Anything else would have spelled death.

The woods held still here, with no birds or animals prowling around. It was strange; most witches attracted wildlife. The lack of noise buzzed in my ear, unnerving.

I circled the house, listening, but I couldn't tell if someone was inside. If I was going in blind, so be it. The owner had answers that I needed.

I stayed low, peaking into the room. It wasn't large, a small bed with knickknacks shoved under it and a long shelf made of roots that looked to be a workbench. The light of a single candle reflected off the face of a young woman, her long red hair snarled and held back with vines and twigs, though it was hard to tell if it was intentional.

She bent over the workbench, an open book next to her as she ground something in a mixing bowl. The girl didn't look dangerous. She was shorter than me with a loose shirt over a pair of dirty, torn pants. As she shifted, it became apparent that the brown socks on her feet were not socks at all, but dirt.

I shuffled into the hut, my shadow flitting over the ground as I slunk into the shadows. Though hard to read, the book revealed a simple enough spell. Growth. Nothing here looked suspicious, but there was an infinite number of hiding spots in the woods. Every tree could hide a person, each bush a trap.

"Stay where you are." When I spoke, the girl jumped, her hands raised in the air as she looked at me. "I won't hurt you. I just want to ask you some questions. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded and I moved closer, looking past her shoulder at the shelves over the workbench. There were so many glasses and jars, and I noticed the shine of a fine silver cap in the back. It wasn't even hidden.

I reached across the girl, feeling her shake. My fingers closed around the bottle, clear with crusted red flakes around the bottom. I popped the lid off, taking a low whiff. The stiff smell of iron with a sweet tinge: gorgon blood. It was the same smell that infected the room as Aunt Bea helped Nick.

"What did you do with this?" I asked. She was on her home turf but she didn't seem to remember that now. "Did you give this to someone? Did you use it?"

The girl just stared at the wall, her shoulders trembling. "I don't know," she whispered.

"Turn around and look then." I held the vial so the light would hit it.

The girl slowly turned. Her eyes trailed on the floor, but they managed to flicker to the empty vial of blood in my hand. "That's not mine."

"Who's is it then?" My fingers tightened around it. "Someone poisoned my friend with gorgon blood, something so rare it was thought to no longer exists, and you have it. Care to explain?"