"NO," Andy said softly.
Even though he had finally processed everything, even though now he could see the answer with his own eyes: he still fell down the long-familiar tunnel of lack of faith with the unimaginable: wishing that what just happened hadn't. Denying with his full being that the vase had tipped and smashed, that the soufflé had fallen moments before he served it to his mom and dad.
That he and the others were just in a random dream inside Andy's head.
Andy took a swift intake of breath. "Why?"
"Why!" she screeched. The witch, Greta, paced back and forth in front of her bound captives predatorily like a wolf. The angry movements and swishing of her baggy robe made the room seem even tighter than it was supposed to be. There was room for nothing else besides her rage
Andy writhed and shrank before the witch. Chip whimpered beside him and Spy-O made low static noises that Andy wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. The little robot should not be feeling scared... should he?
A bird cawed in the distance. The witch's lair had a small window, which showed a world of blackness outside. Rain was coming. And from that darkness, a tiny dot bobbed up and down until it grew bigger and bigger that Andy could tell it was a raven. In fact, it was the same one with black inky wings, feathers shedding like charred snow. The wind howled as those skeleton wings fluttered laboriously. The bird went through the sill and perched on top of the wooden staff's skull head.
"AH! Get off, you filthy bird," said the staff but the bird returned the insult with a snappish squawk and nipped and jabbed the protesting skull with its knife-like beak.
"I have eyes everywhere, young man," said the witch as she fondled the bird's back like some lovely pet. "I have seen and heard it all. A mission of driving the black clouds above Fairton to save Hearthstone?" She spat. "You think you can drive me away and set my years of hard work fall apart? No! You're just a child, an Outlander. But you are so stubborn that no matter how many times I have tried to get rid of you, you wouldn't budge."
"T-Those ravens... the flying rock... and then t-the apple..."
"Oh, yes, yes. Now you're getting it, sweet child. The last straw would be breaking the two of you apart," she said as her eyes glanced at Elsie's way for a brief moment, "And I partially succeeded. You went on your way home but the foolish little witch pressed on." Greta rubbed her palm together in excitement. Strange oils came off them but disappeared into dust and smoke before hitting the floor. "But I realize this is my chance. Now that their youngest child is in my hands, I can finally teach those good-for-nothing Rainwaters a lesson." The witch went straight to her bubbling cauldron and bent over to tend to it.
Without intending to, he voiced out his speculation in a whisper but audible enough to hear, "You're a Keeper."
Greta's body gave an involuntary jerk. When she turned to fix a pair of milky eyes on him, although not quite in the right direction, perhaps because of her cataracts, Andy's heart almost stopped.
"How did you know?" She squinted through the haze of smoke rising from the cauldron. "An Outlander like you... how?"
He's a child of the Crows! Chip said triumphantly and there was an evident smugness on his pug face, but Andy could only mentally facepalm.
"A Crow?" She rounded the cauldron to get a better look at Andy. She squinted her eyes as if that could do anything to clear her vision. Then Greta rolled her eyes and spat, "You are no Crow. Your eyes and hair aren't black. The Crows had never had someone in their family who had a lost look in their eyes. They are proud and tall and as dark and brooding as their namesake. But you... I can't feel anything in you at all. Not even fear!"
The witch cackled and went back to stirring her ladle. Andy was somewhere between offended and amused. In the process of letting him down that he was in no way related to the Crows, his family, she unconsciously let slip the words of praise to the family she despised. But beneath those were the lingering fear and challenge that her family, the Keepers, had long endured from the Crows and Rainwaters. But he would tell none of that, he knew when to say things and keep quiet. But Chip absolutely needed to be trained to know when to shut up when the circumstances forbid it.
Andy's adopted. But there's nothing wrong with being adopted! Right, Andy?
"Chip, shut up!" Andy grumbled.
"Oh!" she cried. The witch looked up, surprisingly merry. "Which of Mortimer and Adeline Crow's scum of a child is your parent?"
Andy felt his blood rise to his neck with immense pressure, not liking the way the witch badmouth his dad and aunt. "None of your business, old hag," he said through gritted teeth.
"Bah! Very well." Gretta threw her arms in the air, throwing the raven off the wooden staff. "Children of the Crows and Rainwaters. Ha! All is going well for me."
"Don't get full of yourself, Greta. Get it through that rotten skull of yours," the wooden staff chimed as he let out a guffaw.
Greta simply shrugged, and said with a sigh, "Ah, I've been yearning for the day when I can finally get rid of you, Uncle Teddy Bones. You don't know how much I regretted finding your soul and bringing you with me!"
"But you can't, Greta, and you know it! I'm the only one you have!" said Teddy Bones, well-pleased with himself.
The witch posed a resigned look as she stationed herself once more in front of her cauldron. "Unfortunately." Then she grinned at Andy, exposing her yellowing and rotten teeth when she caught him staring with a horror-struck look.
"U-Uncle?" he stammered.
Greta patted the top region of the skull and Teddy Bones' features contorted in distaste. "Here's my Uncle Theodore Keeper, young Crow. But he's been Teddy Bones ever since I infused his soul in this staff of mine." She tee-heed and surely, Teddy Bones still brought with him the grudge of having his peaceful and wandering soul be disturbed that he rained down angry curses at Greta who paid him no attention after that.
Something sharp poked Andy on the left side of his body, making him hiss. As he turned to his left, he caught Spy-O giving him a meaningful stare with his now half-lidded eyes. It was then he remembered that his little robot was only powered with batteries, and anytime from now, he would stop functioning. But Spy-O wouldn't let himself be a failure in front of his master. He would do this one last good deed before his system went down.
Andy risked a quick look at what he was doing. He nearly forgot that he installed that feature on the little robot despite his parents' reprimand that he should never play around with things that could hurt him, but he still did it: Spy-O was a little sharp around the edges.
"I have a plan," he whispered to Chip, "and please, let me do the talking. Don't say anything else."
Chip's eyes had widened further than it seemed possible, then his face fell. He whipped his head around, refusing to look at him.
The boy sighed and muttered a silent apology to his dog and cleared his throat with exaggerated loudness. "What do you have in there, Old Greta? It smells..." He inhaled deeply as he did with his breakfast at home. "... wonderful."
"Why, that's..." Greta paused, thinking, then broke into a proud grin after moments of contemplating. She giggled like a high school girl which made all of them, even Teddy Bones, grimace.
Chip hadn't understood this part of the plan—why Andy couldn't just shut it up as he told him. Was Andy already that hopeless that his senses were already messing with him? The stew Greta was making, or whatever that was, stank of burning plastic, moldy bread, and an old sock in the drawer thrown into the mud. The smell was making Chip tear up. And Andy describing its smell wonderful...?
The witch sucked her tooth, stirring the mud-like soup thoughtfully. "The kid's got a taste, Teddy Bones. Maybe I can keep him alive and train him as my apprentice."
No way! Andy wanted to scream out but bit his tongue back. He could feel the rope restraining him loosen a little as Spy-O continued to cut through with his razor blades.
"Chip's right. I'm adopted," said Andy in a low voice, putting a touch of sadness in his tone. He looked down as he rubbed his shoes together. "And maybe that is the reason why they don't give me much of their time, that they don't... make me feel loved at all."
Greta, Teddy Bones, and the raven looked at each other, confused. Even Chip looked uncertain of where he was going with this.
"I mean, it probably wouldn't matter to them whether I go home or just simply walk away from them," he added, trying to think of something else to say. He had lost his train of thought—what else could he mention that could keep Greta and her lackeys interested? Where was he going with this all?
He began to panic. Maybe he couldn't pull this off. Maybe he was actually terrible at weaving lies on the spot.
"Look!" she said to Teddy Bones. "Look at the boy. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"No," Teddy Bones flat-out answered.
"He's still young, Teddy. A young heart has more place for hatred to bloom into wrath. We can take him in. He can be valuable to us one day against those thieves. Those scums!"
"Will you take me as your apprentice then, Old Greta?" said Andy, and Chip whimpered at this.
"Oh, you want that, do you?" Greta laughed to herself with delight.
Andy swallowed a lump in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to say yes because he felt saying that word would bind him to that promise. Instead, he focused on the gurgling brown liquid in the cauldron and asked eagerly, "What's that?"
"Oh, this?" She pored over the bubbling cauldron, inhaling its mish-mash of nasty smells that were pleasant for the witch. "This is blood, my reason for leaving, the fruit of years of dedication to bringing back my family's honor."
Greta went silent. For a moment, the only sound which could be heard was the crackling of the fire underneath the cauldron and the ominous howling of the black clouds above. With each time that passed, every inch of her wrinkly face would contort in anger. She even gripped the cauldron's rim as if losing the sense of touch when she didn't even flinch at its hotness. There was a tiny snap in the background but no one seemed to hear apart from Andy. They would finally be free in no time. He had to think of something to do by then.
"This frail body would continue to cling onto its last dwindling strength and my great longing for revenge to those Crows and Rainwaters." Greta glanced at him before looking at the cauldron and the sky outside the window. "But it isn't enough!" she shrieked while pulling her straw-like hair, eyes bawling and panting heavily. Andy, Chip, and Spy-O had to scoot farther into the wall at the sudden change of atmosphere. "I need more... more souls. Souls of the damned children. And I would stop at nothing until I get all of them. Until no children are left in Hearthstone."
Andy visibly flinched when Greta made her way over to him. She tilted his chin up, her long and pointed nails inflicting a shallow mark on his skin. "You will me, won't you? Run away from your parents. Stay here with me and be my apprentice. You will help me lure children in here."
Sweat dribbled down his head and he gulped. He spoke but failed to keep his voice even, "F-For what?"
"To destroy Hearthstone, of course!" she said impatiently, frustrated that she had to reiterate her purpose over and over again to a child. She waved her hand angrily. "But it isn't enough! It has to be bigger. Bigger than the village. Big enough for other villages and towns to see. And the whole of Emerraine would fear me. But to do that I need more souls. Souls that will fuel this weapon of mine and you, Outlander, will help me." She trailed the tip of her nails to the side of his cheek down to his chin.
"Soul," he whispered, then gulped. "S-Soul of the children?" As he said it, he couldn't help but look at the mud-like substance innocently bubbling inside the cauldron. He stared at it long and hard. The more he stared, the more he understood. And the fear in his chest rose even more. His mouth opened wide to release a strangled sob. His eyes popped with disbelief and his chest constricted, leaving him utterly breathless.
The fumes rising from the cauldron weren't actually a haze of smoke as it turned out. He saw many of it—hollow eyes and mouths. Their features were distorted into a mixture of pain, sorrow, and helplessness. If one would just focus and strain his ears, he could hear the haunting sounds of moans and cries of the spirits. The souls were intermingled and woven together, rising through the ceiling towards the black clouds above. Then it dawned on him. The howling from the core of the black clouds was never from a monster. They were the spirits of innocent, unfortunate children who would forever haunt Fairton Hill. But if there would be just someone who could free them...
A shattering of glass broke the tension at Andy's lack of response. All heads whipped to find the source of the sound. To Andy's surprise and great relief, Hex had finally made his presence known. Although there he was in an awkward position, dangling in a fiberglass statue's chest with his claws hooked on the crevice.
The mannequin's head was featureless and was wearing a purple and black long flowing dress and a regal jacket bodice. There was a black fabric sprawled at the base of its plinth, which explained why he never noticed it was there; it blended with the eeriness of the place. It made him wonder why the witch would be so concerned about its discovery when he couldn't see anything special about it. So why was Greta frozen with horror, dumbfounded, and unable to move?
Hex pulled one paw off the mannequin and swung forward to strike. Everything happened at once. Hex struck at the crack on the mannequin's chest with his extended claws and punctured a bigger hole in the area, making the witch burst into a shrill cry. Greta aimed the staff at Hex at the exact time the rope completely loosened around them. The light in Spy-O's eyes died out and he fell sideways, completely spent and drained of power.
The turquoise round stone in Teddy Bones' mouth glowed and a beam of dirty white light shot out. Andy didn't waste time as he lunged at the witch.
"AAAAAAAAI!" he yelled—more for himself than with any real intention of putting terror in his enemy's heart.
He did a puny attempt to flip and spiraled down feet first, planting both as hard as he could into the small of her back.
"Take that, dread villain!"
With a distinct oof, the witch fell face down. Her magic beam went off course and hit instead the spherical cage encasing Elsie. And it seemed to do the trick. There was a piercing crash and a flurry of blinding smoke. Crystal shards rained down to the floor, and Elsie was among them, now crumpled in every fold of her clothes. Andy winced and worried that it might have wounded her pretty bad.
"Chip!"
On it! Chip said, knowing instantly what needed to be done. Elsie! I'm coming!
Greta couldn't take it anymore. She began to scream. The sound was so loud it vibrated off the walls. It was so shrill it forced Andy to cover his ears and the raven to flee out the window.
The moment of inattention allowed the witch to seize his neck in a chokehold. Greta lapsed into a fit of psychotic giggles as she shook and strangled the boy. Andy clawed at her paper-thin skin and kicked relentlessly. Andy's heart began to pound. Despite her old age, the witch was surprisingly strong and he couldn't get rid of her. The edges of his vision turned black and he wheezed for the lack of air. He was losing hope. He thought the darkness already engulfed him but oddly, his senses were still working.
And then the witch's hold loosened, her knobbly hands slightly shaking. Little by little, his vision was slowly returning. Now that he could clearly see, he found the reason for the witch's hesitation and even he couldn't believe it.
The darkness was caused by Hex's shadow. He was suddenly bigger, much larger than a full-grown male lion. His eyes were black surrounded by a red sclera, and a diamond-shaped marking appeared on his forehead. His upper fangs were thrice as long and thick, sharp and deadly, and he grew another tail, making it two. And blue flames emerged from his feet and tails. Hex roared, clamped his teeth on the witch's shoulder, and flung her to the farthest wall. The age-old wall crumbled from the impact and the witch let out a strangled cry.
This new Hex had his attention on him now and Andy slowly backed away. He's Hex. Andy was sure of it. But what he wasn't sure was if the Familiar could recognize him.
Go! Hex's voice echoed in his head, making Andy leap to his feet. I'll deal with the witch myself. Go and destroy her heart.
Hex didn't wait for Andy's response and it didn't really matter because the boy couldn't think of what to say for the lack of a better word. Then he remembered he had no idea where the heart was so he slapped a hand on his forehead. He should have asked!
But to his luck, something glimmered to his right. And there he saw the heart inside the mannequin's chest. He ran to it and studied it. It was blood-red, pumping with black veins around it. A black web-like branch held it in place.
He held it and it was surprisingly cold and slippery to the touch. He yanked the heart and it came off with a squelching sound. Black liquid gushed out of the black substance yet the heart still thumped rhythmically.
"What to do, what to do," Andy muttered, shuffling to his feet. Hex told him to destroy it but how? Guess he had to try everything after all. Then he swung his arm back—the one holding the heart—and positioned it as if throwing a ball in a baseball game.
Andy chucked it, silently hoping that would do it, but it simply bounced off the wall and dribbled on the floor. From the distance, he could hear the crashing of objects, a menacing roar, and countless curses from the witch.
He wasted no time and picked it up again, his mind whirring cogs. Andy had to find a way to destroy it. Something pointed perhaps, but not any normal just any normal object. It had to be sharp like a knife and contained a magical property. His eyes did a quick scan of the room then a smile of victory ripped across his face.
Andy's heart began to pound with adrenaline. He reached for the largest shard of glass from the shattered spherical cage. He placed the heart on the floor, the glass shard raised above his head.
"NO!" Greta cried and she lunged forwards, but Hex blocked her path. "Don't touch it!"
For a moment, Andy hesitated. If he destroyed the heart, would that kill the witch? Would that make him a murderer?
Do it, Andy! Hex snarled. Think of all the children and people she'll hurt if we don't stop it.
Andy needed not to be told twice. He knew what was at stake and the fate of many depended on his decision.
Andy plunged the glass deep into the still-beating heart, piercing the fragile organ. Black blood squirted from that tiny haze. The red glow from the heart began to brighten and the brightness grew dimmer, fading, as Andy struck again and again. Greta screamed but Andy kept stabbing until the heart finally shattered into million pieces. It exploded, strong wind and a sound like a roar accompanying it.
"NO!" the witch cried, and then, as Andy looked at her. The witch began to shrink and fall into a brown, melted, shapeless mass.
The witch of Fairton Hill had come to an end, and they were no longer prisoners in the old Keepers' mansion.