Curses and Cream Puffs

Lena and Damien left early the next morning to travel to Jadire. Damien seemed troubled by the reports Louis had given him, but when she asked he said he didn’t know what was bothering him; something just felt off. Lena figured it had to do with them constantly glancing over their shoulders. She didn’t know when the Mortecombes would decide to strike, but she knew that they would.

They reached Jadire without incident, and tracked down the mayor to find out more about the reports Damien had been given.

“The reports are a bit vague,” Damien explained. “I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for here.”

“Well, that’s just the trouble. We don’t really know what happened either. Everyone in the town lost a day.”

“Lost a day?” Damien repeated. The mayor nodded.

“Everyone woke up four days ago, with no memory of what happened the day before. But more importantly, all the younger people and children seemed to take ill at the same time. They’re lethargic and complaining of aches and pains. No one older than twenty appears to be affected.”

Lena frowned, a bad feeling settling heavily in the pit of her stomach. Damien thanked the mayor and he directed them to the local inn, where he’d made sure to have the best room reserved. Damien turned to her as they stepped outside.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s not good,” Lena replied. “It’s definitely dark magic. It sounds like a ritual used for strengthening power by siphoning life force off of someone else.”

“Like the witch we faced in Landoxe?”

“Exactly, but it’s very difficult to do on this scale. Usually it’s performed using other witches, because it’s more effective to steal power from another witch. Siphoning some life force out of normal people doesn’t power you up anywhere near as much. That just be why whoever is behind this went after every single young person in this town. And they didn’t steal them away like Adelaide Milbourne did with that little girl. So they must have just drained a little bit from each person.”

“Do you think you can trace the trail again, like you did before?”

“Maybe. It depends on how skilled the witch was, and if they’re still in the area.”

“Do you think they’re more powerful than Adelaide was?”

“Yes,” Lena replied flatly. “I think they’re weakened for now, or they wouldn’t have needed energy from people here. But if they were at full power...this is the work of a strong dark witch.”

Damien looked as troubled as she felt as they went to a few houses to see the children and see what condition they were in. None of them seemed in particularly alarming shape; like the mayor had told them, the children were subdued and had occasional twinges of muscle pain. Lena didn’t sense anything permanent and was sure they’d start feeling better in another day or two.

After they’d been to several houses, Lena attempted to pick up threads of the dark witch’s trail. There were minute traces in the houses they visited, but it ran cold at the edge of town. Either the witch had known a way to mute the dark magic they’d used, or they were too far away for Lena to trace them any further.

“There are some smaller hamlets scattered around that are technically still part of Jadire,” Damien said when they returned to the inn. “Maybe we’ll find something there.”

Lena just fluffed the pillows and fed a carrot to Duchess. The next morning they traveled out to the small farmsteads outside of the main town and searched around for any more traces of the witch who’d attacked the children and erased the town’s memories. They split up while Damien went to interview more people and Lena kept hunting for more clues about where the witch may have gone.

She was able to trace the trail of magic to the edge of the woods, but there it went cold again. Sighing in frustration, Lena turned back toward town to go back to the inn and wait for Damien. He was lounging in the chair by the window when she returned.

“Did you find anything? he asked.

“No. I can’t find them. Did you learn anything new?”

“No luck. I guess this was a dead end.”

Lena sighed again as she shed her cloak. “I wish we could do more to help the people here. I feel like we let them down.”

“They’ll be okay,” Damien replied. Lena was startled when he crossed the room and slid an arm around her waist, more or less pinning her against the door. She squinted up at him.

“What are you doing?” she asked slowly.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“I am?” He tried to look innocent but there was something in his expression; a cockiness she’d never seen before. Her eyes narrowed and she barely managed to turn her head before he tried to kiss her.

“I know you’re upset that we lost the witch. I’m just trying to take your mind off of it.” He pouted slightly and tilted her chin up so she had to look at him. She mustered up a sweet smile.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Nikolaj.”

The man wearing Damien’s face had only a split second to look surprised before Lena punched him square in the face. He stumbled back with a loud curse just as the real Damien walked in the door and froze, gaping as Lena massaged her knuckles.

“Hi, Damien,” she said calmly. “This is Nikolaj Mortecombe.”