Curses and Cream Puffs

“I can feel you staring at me.”

“I’m not staring at you,” Lena said testily. “I’m glaring at you. Big difference.”

“Look, this is my job, okay? If we get a report we have to check it out.”

“Check it out. You make it sound like Hunters just politely knock, have a nice chat and then leave. They break down the doors of anyone even accused of being a witch and murder them in the street. I remember I passed through a village once and they had heads mounted over the entry gate.”

“Sounds like my brother,” Damien muttered.

“Don’t think you’re special just because you happened to not murder me. You’re still part of the business of slaughtering witches.”

“There are dangerous witches,” he said, annoyed now. “Evil ones, that hurt people.”

“There are evil non-witches that hurt people every day,” she shot back. “You don’t need magic to kill someone. Of course there are bad witches. Everyone knows that. The whole reason we have to live in fear of witch hunters now is because the Coven of the Red Thorn went dark. Witches were afraid of them too, you know. Witches who go dark and start using blood magic and death magic...they’re different. No shred of humanity left. But still, I don’t see you looking into murderers or people who beat their children. Hunters just harass and butcher witches.”

“I’m not butchering anyone,” Damien said loudly. “That’s not what I’m out here to do.”

“Well it’s certainly not now, because I’m here and I wouldn’t let you.”

“It’s a non-issue because I was never going to butcher anyone.”

“Do you even know how to tell if someone is a witch?” Lena asked.

“Well, the way hunters are taught, you have to cut them and then see how the blood reacts to fire. Witch blood will change color and then spark.”

“Right, so you have to hurt people just to see if they’re a witch or not.”

“It’s just a little cut.”

“My point still stands. I am a witch, so I don’t need to hurt anyone to know the difference. Besides, some hunters don’t even do the test. If you’re accused, that’s it, you’re guilty. They’ve imprisonments and even killed people who weren’t witches at all.”

“That’s not legal,” Damien frowned. “They’re always supposed to do the test.”

“Well, they don’t. And they generally get away with it because people worship hunters and are so convinced we need them that they don’t even care how many innocent lives are lost in this farce you call justice.”

They walked in silence for a while, and the gently rolling hills gave way to a thick stand of forest. Still they both remained lost in their own thoughts until there was a rustle in the trees to their left. Damien immediately reached for his sword, drawing it so fast that Lena flinched. There was another rustle and then a small hare with beautiful lavender-gray fur hopped onto the trail.

“Its just a rabbit,” Damien said, putting his sword away.

“That is not just a rabbit,” Lena exclaimed, kneeling down and making soft coaxing noises. The hare twitched its little nose and then hopped right into her arms, gazing up at her with big dark eyes.

“This is a Samaria Hare,” Lena said in wonder. “They’re very special. They were bred by the elves of the Samaria Mountains, before they disappeared when Privaria began building its empire. Look how beautiful she is.”

“All right, well we need to get moving.”

Lena stood, cradling the hare in her arms. Damien eventually looked behind him to make sure she was following and made a face.

“You’re bringing the rabbit?”

“Hare,” Lena said firmly. “And yes. I have to. She came to me. These hares don’t just take up with anyone. They’re very particular, so if one chooses you and you just leave it it’ll get depressed and die.”

“Sounds a bit dramatic.”

Lena shot him a withering look. “They’re very intelligent and are rumored to bring good luck. They’re also hunted for their soft fur. So I’m keeping her.”

“I don’t have anywhere in my house for a rab-hare.”

“They’re clean animals. She’ll do her business outside and sleep in my room until I take my leave.”

“It’s my room,” he mumbled but Lena ignored him, cooing to the hare for the rest of their walk. They came out of the woods just after sundown, and Damien procured two rooms at the local inn. Lena settled on her bed and fed the hare some dandelions she’d picked; a treat this particular breed enjoyed.

“We’re going to need a name for you,” Lena said while the hare munched delicately. “You look like a high born lady to me, so how about Duchess?”

The hare yawned in response and hopped into her lap, so Lena took that as a yes. Damien was in a hurry to get to Landoxe, so he hired a carriage to get them there faster. It was getting late when they arrived, but Damien wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible so they went to house he’d been ordered to search. A woman answered the door.

“Miss, there have been reports in town that you or your family are using witchcraft.”

“It’s not true,” the woman said vehemently.

“I need to come in.”

The woman looked like she wanted to refuse but she knew what the consequences for that would be. She reluctantly let them inside, shooting a curious glance at Lena and her hare. Three small children were gathered in front of the fireplace, crowded onto a chair with their father and watching Damien and Lena with alarm.

“You have children,” Damien said, grimacing a little.

“There are no witches in this house,” the woman said shakily. “You’re wasting your time. You should leave.”

“Mara, don’t antagonize the hunter,” her husband said, voice low. “Cooperate or they’ll lock you up.”

“More than one of your neighbors seems to think that you’re a witch, Mrs...” he glanced at his paper. “Hadwell.”

“Well than more than one of my neighbors is a damn liar.”

“Then you won’t mind if I test your blood?”

“They can’t just accuse me like this. I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Mrs. Hadwell, give me your hand. I need to conduct the test.”

“I did it,” one of the children cried suddenly, running forward.

“Eddie, hush!” Mara said, desperately trying to push the young boy back. He couldn’t have been more than ten.

“Please, sir, it wasn’t my mother. It was me. I ruined the harvest festival. But I didn’t mean to, I swear! Some kids were picking on my little sister, and I got mad and then it just started raining and got windy. I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Mara said, pulling her son away. “He’s been sick lately.”

“Mara’s magic has been bound,” Lena said softly. “She couldn’t have caused the storm.”

“But the kid did?” Damien asked.

“He didn’t do anything,” Mara insisted. “He wasn’t feeling well, he’s mistaken.”

“It was an accident,” Lena said plainly. “It happens often when a young witch starts coming into their powers. Besides, he didn’t hurt anyone. So it literally rained on their parade. So what.”

“I won’t let you take him,” Mara said, shielding Eddie with her body. “You won’t lay a hand on him, do you hear me?”

Lena stepped forward and spoke gently. “No one is taking your son. He didn’t do anything wrong. But you’ll need to leave this village and start over somewhere new. Your nosy neighbors likely won’t stop suspecting you.” She turned to Damien. “We have two options. Since it’s supposed to be illegal to detain anyone without a test of their blood, you could just return with the report that the villagers were mistaken and there are no witches here, or we can fake the Hadwells’ death.”

“Fake their death?” Damien was skeptical.

“We help them leave town under cover of darkness, then we burn the house down, or say that when we arrived they had tried to flee and lost control of the carriage they took, plunging tragically into the river.”

Damien pulled her off to the side and spoke in a harsh whisper.

“You want to burn down a house or drop a carriage in the river? You know I’d have to pay for that.”

“You’re a hunter, they’ll probably apologize to you for letting it be stolen in the first place. Besides you’re getting paid for this job. If you’re so worried about it, deduct the carriage from their fee. That, or you can stand there and tell me you want to take that sword and run it through the heart of a little boy who accidentally rained on some people because he was defending his sister from bullies.”

“What you’re asking me to do is illegal and goes against everything hunters stand for.”

“Good. Because what hunters stand for is murder and cruelty. It’s fine to fight the witches who want to hurt people, but look at this family. Do they seem evil to you? Can your conscience really handle dragging that child out of his home and away from his parents to be hanged? You let me live, right, so why not him too? Or maybe you want to be more like your brutish brother.”

They stared each other down for a few moments, Damien clearly having an internal battle. He glanced toward the frightened family and sighed. “I guess we’re dumping a carriage over a cliff.”

With a little teamwork, they convincingly made it look like the pilfered carriage had gone wildly out of control. They snapped the harnesses to make it look like the horses had broken free, and then Lena summoned up a burst of wind to help them heave it over the edge of the cliff. It tumbled into the water below, taking a pounding from the raging waterfall. They watched broken pieces of it be carried swiftly away by the river.

“Thank you,” Mara said to Lena, her arm around her son. “I had my powers bound when I was pregnant with Eddie, I hoped it meant I wouldn’t pass it on and he’d be normal. His powers blossomed so late, I thought it had worked. And then a few weeks ago he turned ten and I knew. And now I can’t even be a proper teacher to him because I bound my own magic.”

“It can be unbound,” Lena said. “Maybe you can leave the Privarian Empire, go somewhere safer, and have the spell undone.”

“We should go,” Damien said, approaching them. “If anyone sees you that’ll mean this was all a waste.”

“I want to thank you too,” Mara said, though she still eyed Damien warily. “I don’t know why you decided to help us, but I’m grateful you didn’t take my son.”

Damien looked uncomfortable with her thanks. The children had been playing with Duchess, and handed her back to Lena. Then the Hadwell family retreated into the darkness and Lena and Damien headed back toward Landoxe.

“I’m very impressed,” Lena said. “You actually took the opportunity to not kill a small child.”

“I just don’t understand any of this. I’ve been training my whole life to fight witches and they send me after a baker and a kid. They didn’t tell me that witches could be bakers and kids.”

“Of course they didn’t. Who would want to be a witch hunter if they knew that witches were actually their neighbors and friends and people’s children?” Lena snorted.

“I didn’t bring this up when we were at the house once I realized it was just a little kid, but there was something else to the report. There was also a report of livestock dying, and all their entrails missing even though they weren’t cut open. Like they just...dried up inside.”

“That’s not the sort of thing a new witch can do,” Lena said, frowning. “Magic that goes so far against the natural order requires physical sacrifice; blood, souls, bodily harm. You can’t just work that kind of magic naturally. I want to see where it happened.”

Damien led her to a small farm on the opposite edge of town. Lena could see some cow and sheep corpses laid out, away from where the other animals could get to them. Their bodies looked shriveled and oddly flat. Lena shuddered and then gagged as they got closer. The smell of dead animal was no match for the horrible, rotten reek of dark magic that lingered around them.

“This was definitely done using blood magic,” she said, covering her nose. Duchess wriggled her face under Lena’s cloak. “You’re not a witch so you’re less sensitive to it, but magic like this leaves traces. Sometimes it’s a persistent chill, a sticky ooze that’s near impossible to get rid of. In this case it’s a smell. It smells like old meat that rotted in the hot sun for months and then someone threw up on it.”

“Charming. They’re going to burn these but wanted to wait until the investigation was done.”

“They need to salt the ground where they’re going to burn them first,” Lena said, her voice muffled because she had her arm across her nose to try and block the stench. “And they need to let them burn, consistently, for a full day. Don’t let the fire go out. That’ll cleanse the dark magic. If they don’t do that the ground where they died will be cursed. It’ll make everyone sick who walks across it.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well how would you? Hunters don’t know these things, witches do.”

“All right, so then what would someone need a bunch of animal entrails for?”

Lena shifted, feeling a chill run down her back. “Often, animal organs are used for dark enchantments or summoning spells if someone doesn’t have access to human ones. But to need this many...I mean this is three cows and five sheep. That’s excessive. So whoever did this? They’re planning something big and definitely not good.”

“So to clarify, whoever did this is a dangerous witch?”

“Yes, smart ass. We should go now, these bodies need to be burned soon. And sometimes when magic like this is performed, a specter hangs around for a while.”

“What’s a specter?”

“Sort of a residual essence from the spell caster. They only last a while but they’re really violent and-oh, crap!”

A gray figure, crouched low to the ground, came into view on the edge of the field and ran toward them with a piercing shriek. It appeared vaguely female, with a long yawning gash for a mouth and hollow pits for eyes. The specter dragged its body across the ground in jerky, unnatural movements. Damien drew his sword as the specter lunged at him. Stabbing it with a simple sword wouldn’t kill it; they were mostly incorporeal. Still, it didn’t seem to like being stabbed. It tried to wrap its gnarled hands around his throat.

Lena set Duchess on the ground and ran at the specter, summoning a ball of white light in her palm. She hurled the ball at the specter’s chest, temporarily breaking apart its ghostly form. It howled and turned its attention on her. Lena hopped backwards, trying to stay out of its reach as she blasted it with balls of light. She tripped and lost her balance, falling backwards and the specter descended on her, clawing at her legs.

Damien whacked at it with his sword again, distracting it long enough for Lena to get back on her feet. She summoned forth the brightest light she could and leaped forward, putting her hands around the hilt of Damien’s sword. The light infused with the blade, until it looked like they were holding a giant torch.

“Okay, now stab it!” Lena ordered. Damien rammed the blade into the specter’s chest. Its body filled with light until Lena had to shut her eyes to block it out, and with a final shriek it broke apart as the sun began to crest the horizon. The light faded from the sword and Lena huffed out a breath.

“See? Now that is what evil magic looks like.”