Witch Doctors Inc: SEASON TWO (Ongoing)

Part 1.7

"Ruby, we're not here to fight with children," I remind her tiredly.

Ruby doesn't give any indication of having heard me. "I'm famished," she announces. "Let's get something to eat."

"We have to find Owen -" I start, but she's already heading towards Marta's Bar and Tavern.

Ruby orders the Wartfish Stew, which arrives steaming and teeming with fish eyes.

"Eat quickly," I urge her.

"I have to go to the bathroom first," she says.

This girl is going to get herself murdered before the end of the day.

The tavern is busy, but not crowded. Villagers amble through the sea of tables, pausing to chat with each other. They don't pay me much notice, though a couple of the children smile or point. I don't detect any of the hostility I faced in Aberdeen, where "outsiders" were treated like plague pits.

A brown-haired girl at the adjacent table turns in her seat to face me. She can't be any more than five, with her beaming dimpled cheeks and sun-stained smock.

"Your hair's purple," she announces, as if this was something I might not already know.

I smile in response. "Yeah, it is."

"Purple hair is for witches."

"Who told you that?"

"Grandmama."

"Well," I say, "I'm sure Grandmama is very wise. But there are a lot of people with quartz-coloured hair in Zilitron. It's because we use a lot of magic."

The child considers this. "If I use magic, can I have witch hair too?" she asks.

"It doesn't quite work like that." I smile again. Her innocence is refreshing. "It has to do with genes and families."

"Okay," she replies, nodding like she thoroughly understands. "I'll get myself some genes and families then."

I can't help the grin. "Why don't you come visit Zilitron? People say it's very pretty, especially at night."

The child shakes her head. "If I go, it will be sad," she says.

"What will be sad?"

"The tree."

Before I can ask her more, Ruby returns to gobble down her soup. To my annoyance, she orders some pudding afterwards.

The waitress looks very happy at all the business she's getting. "How long will you be here in Naemar?" she asks, while we wait for Ruby's pudding.

"Just a short time," I reply. "We're here to see a friend, Owen. He's a crystal cutter."

"Oh, Owen. He's new here. It's always good to get some fresh blood."

"Do you know where we can find him?"

"He'll be at the fragment," she tells me. "There isn't much need for a crystal cutter here, so he's trying his hand at fishing."

"The fragment?" I ask, confused.

"It's a fragment of the Eternal Sea that broke away," the waitress explains. "It looks like a pond, but it really goes on forever. There are octopuses that live there larger than my house."

"Oh really." My words fall flat. The pond is probably connected to another body of water through underground channels. There's no need to take the Eternal Sea's name literally.

When Ruby finally finishes her pudding, we leave the tavern and head in the direction the waitress gave us. My bones feel damp. Nausea weighs down on me, stronger than during the cart ride.

"Ruby, I think I need to sit down."

'I miss my mother.'

The nausea vanishes in an instant. "Did you hear that?" I demand.

"Hear what?" Ruby seems unconcerned.

Above us, the sun shines a cold yellow through the gaps between Ignatius's leaves. "It sounded like a child..."

Ruby gives a flippant shrug. "Yeah, the kids around here are really rude."

I must have imagined it. Either that, or my dreams are getting to me. I blink to clear my head. Is it just me, or does the sun look more like the moon today? Is its light paler?

"You're the one who wanted to hurry," Ruby points out. "If we were going to wait around anyway, I would've had more pudding."

"Alright, alright."

I hoist myself up. I have a job to do.

The pond, or the fragment as they call it, is enclosed by an embrace of Ignatius's branches. The light of its clear water beckons us into the shadows.

We step inside.

The first thing I see is a gelatinous, translucent octopus the size of a large kitten. Visible through its clear skin are blobs of floating red in the shape of hearts. The creature waddles around the edge of the pond, supervising the fish stocks.

The next thing I see is the boy hunched at the edge of the pond, his honey-coloured hair wet against his cheeks. There's an odd glow coming from his tunic pocket.

"Owen," I say.

Burgundy eyes turn to glare at me.

And it happens too fast.

A streak of movement, a glint of silver.

And there's a blade against my throat.