The Whimsy Witch Who Wasn't (Tales of Xest Book 1) Read online

  “Why do you think…” Stupid question. I knew why she hung in there. If I was dating him, I might too. He wasn’t that nice, and he wasn’t exactly adoring, but he was something else, had something that made you too aware of his comings and goings. I found myself doing it, watching the door for when he’d arrive. The only word for it might’ve been addictive.

  At least he was nice to her. Me? He just bossed me around and needed things from me.

  “You going to finish that thought?” Musso asked.

  “Already forgot what I was going to say. Gotta go. Hawk’s going to be yelling for me soon.”

  Hawk was staring down the road intently, looking at something I didn’t see, when I stepped outside.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked.

  It took him a minute to respond. “Something feels off.” He still wasn’t looking at me but everywhere else. Up the street and down. Then he was staring at the sky and the rooftops.

  I glanced around, wondering what he was sensing and not sure I wanted to know. This place was already a bit too much for me.

  “Like what?” I asked, because I hadn’t gotten any better at listening to my inner advice than I had with Belinda five minutes ago.

  He shook his head, still looking about the place, as if something was going to pop up out of the air. Maybe it would. This was Xest.

  “Let’s go,” he said, motioning me one way as he continued to look the other.

  I wasn’t sure if I was picking up on “something off” or his high alert was somehow contagious. Either way, the hair on my arms was standing at attention. I began looking over my shoulder as we walked, waiting for an attack.

  “Where are we off to today?” I asked, looking for a better subject to concentrate on.

  “Some people want to meet you.”

  “Oh no. Not more people.” I stopped walking. I’d rather get attacked by the invisible threat than do another forced meet-and-greet. Every other one had not gone well. First I’d had a little troll fellow tell me I was evil. Then I had that screeching lady, and then a restaurant full of people who decided to hate me. I’d rather have my nails pulled out than meet another soul.

  He turned around while I was crossing my arms and shaking my head. “I’m done with new people. I’d rather spend the night failing, if you don’t mind.”

  He smiled, and it looked as if he might be on the verge of laughing. “This one will be more pleasant.”

  I didn’t budge. “You’ve never taken me to anyone remotely pleasant, ever.”

  “It won’t be bad. And if you want to leave after you’ve met them, we can go. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  A few minutes. I guessed I could handle anyone for a few minutes. Although I’d been proven wrong a bunch of times so far.

  He raised a brow, silently asking if I was coming, seeming to give me a choice. I let out a long breath, dropped my arms, and walked in his direction.

  “So who are these people who want to meet me now?” I asked. He was only about a foot ahead of me, which made it slightly easier to ask a question and not tell the entire street at the same time.

  “I’ve got some friends and colleagues that have similar interests.”

  “And these people you call friends and colleagues, they like you too? It’s a mutual thing?” This was sounding bad again.

  He let out a soft laugh. “Yes, they like me too.”

  Had he just laughed? Up until this moment, I hadn’t realized he was capable.

  We only walked another block or so before he opened the door to what appeared to be a dark taproom. It hadn’t had a fancy sign on the door, and there were drawn shades over the windows that made it look like it was nighttime inside instead of the middle of the morning.

  The small crowd, some at the bar sipping on tankards and others sitting at the table, all turned to stare at us as we walked in.

  We stopped in the middle of the room.

  “Everyone, this is Tippi.” Hawk nodded in my direction.

  I waved at them.

  Unlike the clamoring group that had tripped over themselves to pretend to greet me when I’d been with Raydam, this group barely budged. Maybe Hawk did have some friends here. These were the people I could see him being friends with. They all had a rough look about them, from the woman sitting at the table watching me over her mug, with narrowed eyes and a spiky red mohawk, to the guy leaning on the bar, glaring at me as if I couldn’t possibly be the Tippi he’d expected. Yeah, this was making more and more sense. These might’ve actually been his friends.

  Hawk had said they had “similar interests.” Did that mean they didn’t like the thing in the forest either? I’d have to ask later. Right now, silence seemed to be the thing.

  If I was going to join a side, this would be the side I’d pick. None of the frills of the group Raydam ran with. These people weren’t here to socialize and tell each other how wonderful they were. They didn’t even look like they wanted to be here with each other. They came because they had to get a job done. These were more my type of people.

  A familiar face finally appeared from the back. Oscar walked toward us with two drinks in his hands.

  “They’re a little skeptical about you being able to deliver,” he said as he got close.

  “Yeah, so am I,” I said, accepting the offered drink and then taking a healthy chug from it.

  “I told them I’d bring her by. I brought her,” Hawk said, turning to me and tilting his head toward the door.

  “You’re leaving?” Oscar asked, his brow furrowing as if he couldn’t understand why we’d split the party early.

  “Yes,” Hawk said. “I don’t care if they don’t believe. I do, and I don’t need to convince anyone. They know where to find me.” He turned and walked to the door.

  Dammit. Hawk was doing that thing that made me feel all special and gooey inside, like an under-baked brownie. This was not good.

  I handed the drink back to Oscar. “Thanks. It was tasty.”

  I followed Hawk out the door, afraid to be left alone with these people, even if they were on our side.

  Hawk didn’t say anything, but our gap had narrowed to under a foot. Whatever his people had thought of me, it hadn’t scared him.

  “You know, they’re probably right,” I said, in case he needed a reminder of the possibility. Plus, I needed some skepticism to harden up my mushy center.

  “They’re not.”

  Dammit, he was a tough sell.

  27

  “There’s nothing for me?” A guy with the platinum-blond hair sat slumped in front of Zab.

  Zab’s forearms were on his desk as he leaned forward, eyes heavy-lidded. “I’m sorry, man. It’s just you have a very small skill set, at least what you’re allowed to use. If you hadn’t signed a non-compete clause, things would be a lot different.”

  The blond nodded as he rubbed his palm over his jeans. “What do you think would happen if I broke it?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, and I won’t help you do that. We can’t handle that kind of heat here.” Zab leaned back.

  The blond deflated again, rubbing his chin. “I know you’re right. I’ve heard the stories. You know, they all said do it. It’s a gold rush in Xest. You’ll live the good life.” He shook his head. “I never should’ve left. Now I can’t go back without being ready to grovel for a decade. I’m not that desperate—yet.”

  Zab nodded. “Yeah, man. I get it. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

  The blond took a deep breath, as if preparing himself. He stood slowly, like leaving empty-handed was too heavy a burden to bear.

  “Make sure you call me if anything comes in, okay?” he asked.

  “You know I will. You’re my bro,” Zab said.

  The blond nodded, gave a weak smile, and headed out.

  “Hang in there and keep on witchin’,” Zab said, watching the blond’s slow exit.

  I rolled my chair closer to Zab, who was still looking at the door. The b
est and worst part of sitting so close to him was watching negotiations play out, and sometimes fail.

  “What’s his skill set? Maybe there’s something in the stack.”

  “He came from…” He hooked a thumb toward the ceiling. “He can make certain appearances here and there, but man, the contract they sign when they leave is ironclad. They lock them up tight. They don’t like defectors. Sometimes they forgo anything extra altogether and move to Rest. It’s a tough situation either way when you’re born into something that doesn’t quite fit.”

  I rocked back in my chair. Boy did I know how that felt.

  Zab jumped up from his seat and went to the coin box on the shelf behind him. He looked over at me with a big smile. “You game?”

  “When do I ever turn down a cocoa?” I asked. I’d been two-a-daying it for a while. In the short time I’d been here, I’d quickly come to crave the Sweet Shop cocoa like a junky craved crack.

  “Anyone want a cocoa?” Zab asked, gathering up coins.

  Musso looked up from the client at his desk. “Yeah, I’ll take one.” He said it like he wasn’t as into them as we were. That was bullshit. Sometimes he was a two-a-day-er too. Zab and I had spied him stopping over for a second hit on his way home several nights in a row.

  Belinda looked up, her gaze getting stuck on me long enough to remind me she still hated me. Then she turned to Zab.

  “No. Thank you,” she said.

  The woman was incapable of being normal, not even for the two minutes it took to answer a question about something as generic as cocoa. If there was no Hawk, we still would’ve been doomed to not get along. She was way too much work, and that kind of maintenance was tiring to sustain for the long haul.

  “Where’s Rabbit?” Zab asked.

  “I’m here,” Rabbit said, walking out of the back room. “I think I’m good. I’m going to head upstairs soon.” She leaned by the stairwell door, looking like she’d barely make the climb.

  “Yeah, you should go up.”

  She nodded and disappeared.

  I stepped closer to Zab, hoping Belinda would mind her own business. “I thought she’d get better after she left the factory. How long do you think it’ll take?”

  Zab was still looking at the door.

  “Zab?”

  He hesitated and then said, “Maybe you should talk to her? There could be more going on.”

  So he didn’t think it was normal either. I’d been hoping for some excuse about her needing more time. I really needed that second cocoa today.

  The door opened and a swell of people walked in. There had been a lot of calls going out today. It was definitely going to be a late night.

  Zab cursed under his breath before saying, “I called half of these people five hours ago. Now they show up? This is going to be a bit. I’ll go as soon as I finish here.”

  “You always go. I’ll go. I’m not exactly essential personnel.”

  Belinda laughed the loudest. She made it hard to even crack a joke.

  “You sure?” Zab asked, looking out the window at the darkening sky.

  “Zab, it’s practically across the street.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Musso said.

  Zab had the coins in his hand, except his fingers were still wrapped tight around them.

  “Zab. Seriously, it’s two seconds away.”

  He dropped the coins into my hand as the mob began descending upon his desk, all asking almost simultaneously if he had work for them.

  “I’ll tell them to make yours extra chocolaty,” I whispered before I left.

  I made my way to Sweet Shop, noticing that the streets were emptier tonight. Might’ve been that anyone with half a brain was hunkered down. Even for Xest, this was bad.

  The Sweet Shop was empty too, except for the owner, Gilli, who knew our order and was quick to greet me with a smile. I was sure the steady flow of coin swayed her opinion of me. She had our cocoas lined up in a matter of minutes and added on a complimentary bag of soft sugars, known as marshmallows in Rest.

  I shoved them in my pocket for equitable distribution later and juggled the three cocoas, yelling back to Gilli, “See you tomorrow.”

  As I stepped outside, it wasn’t only the cold that hit me. It was my new reality. I had a desk—or a table, and that was close enough. I’d asked Zab today where he got his hair cut because I was going to need a trim. I had cocoas in my hand for my coworkers, and I knew Musso was going to somehow end up with extra marshmallows, no matter how well I divvied them up. I had a spot in my room where I dumped my laundry. I wasn’t just here in Xest, visiting. I was living in Xest. When had that happened? How had a life here snuck up on me?

  Glancing about this frozen tundra of a land, I realized if I wasn’t careful, this might become home. The wind was bitterly cold as a flurry of snow blew across the empty street. The fifth wind whistled and then growled. I couldn’t call a place with growling wind home, could I?

  Whoa. Wait. What was that? Even in Xest, the wind shouldn’t make a growling noise.

  I looked around and saw the things that were hidden in the snowdrift. At first they’d blended with the snow. The longer I stared, the more I squinted, the clearer I saw. It looked like a herd of small animals, no bigger than mice but a lot of them, all with white fur. They had disproportionately large fangs that protruded from their little jaws. Then one stood on its hind legs, and it had extra-large claws as well.

  Had to be at least fifty of them, all with beady eyes fixated on me, and they were between me and the shop. I took a few steps blindly backward before I heard a growl from that direction as well. I glanced over my shoulder to see another herd of them, in between me and the Sweet Shop, whose lights had been turned off for the night.

  There was a small gap in between me and where I needed to go. I dropped the cocoas and ran for it, getting only two steps before teeth pierced my pants. I shook my leg, throwing the first attackers off, but they were replaced by twice as many on my other leg. I was surrounded by them. They crawled up my legs, biting and scratching. My screams were buried in the gust of whistling wind as I threw them off.

  And then, suddenly, they were gone.

  I stood there, the snow around me a circle of bright red that was growing larger by the second, as the blood was pouring rivers down my legs. My pants hung in shreds from my thighs. My hands were shaking, and it seemed to be spreading, as my entire body began to shiver.

  Without thinking, I walked back to the shop, stepping on blood and cocoa-stained snow. I was woozy but couldn’t tell if it was from shock or loss of blood. Maybe a combination. Hard to know when your mind was freaking out while you bled out. It could definitely be a combo.

  Had to get back to the office. I couldn’t think of anything beyond that. Not the warmth flowing into my boots or the pieces of either flesh or pants that grazed my legs with each step. I couldn’t stop and think.

  My hand slipped on the door, slick with blood from ripping carnivorous little monsters off me, as my hands shook and knees trembled. I stopped right inside. The place went silent. Belinda was gone, but Musso and Zab still had clients. Zab’s mouth dropped open. There were several gasps. It seemed as if time was slowing, and then stopped, as I stood there.

  Musso acted first, getting up from his desk. “Everyone out! Shop’s closed.” He waved the remaining clients to the door. They swerved around me, gaping as they did and getting a good look.

  I opened my mouth to talk but found I couldn’t quite speak yet. Zab tugged me to the nearest chair as Musso dropped the shades on the front window.

  “What happened?” Zab asked, his hands reaching out to me but hovering in a lost sort of way.

  I looked down, seeing the flaps of flesh, and understood his dilemma. Everyone with basic first-aid knowledge knew to put pressure on a bleeding wound, but what happened when the wound was half your leg and the skin wasn’t attached anymore? It added some serious complications to the problem.

  “I don’t know exactly. Th
ese things…” I was shaking so badly that my teeth rattled. “I’m okay. I just need to stop the bleeding.” That sounded right. I leaned forward. This wasn’t that bad. It was probably all the blood. There was probably more skin than I realized. Yeah, not so bad.

  I went to get up. I needed towels. Zab urged me back down with a hand on my shoulder.

  “You sit. I’ll get whatever you need.”

  But he didn’t. He kept staring.

  Musso walked over and knelt beside my legs. He made a signal of some sort to Zab, and then Zab crossed the room.

  “I dropped our cocoas,” I said to Musso.

  “What happened, exactly?” Musso asked, staring at my legs.

  Zab draped a blanket that felt like it had been sitting in front of a fireplace for three hours over my shoulders. It eased some of the shaking as I tried to get my scrambled thoughts together.

  “I’m not sure. There was this herd of…things? Creatures? Mice? I thought it was a snowdrift, and then it wasn’t. I don’t know what I did, but they…” The shaking came back at the thought of them, and I pointed at my legs.

  “And they appeared out of a snowdrift?” Musso laid a hand on the blanket, the heat growing.

  “I don’t know. I think so.” It all seemed so unbelievable that I wouldn’t have sworn to any of it.

  “Zab, get me the magnifying glass.”

  Zab returned with it in seconds, along with some towels.

  Musso leaned close, looking at my still-bleeding wounds.

  I reached for the towels Zab was holding, but Musso swatted them away. He continued to look at several different spots on my legs.

  “It was grouslies,” he said softly, to me or Zab, I wasn’t sure. Musso dropped the glass, sitting back on his heels. The wizened warlock was looking as rattled as I was.

  “That can’t be right. Are you sure? No one’s seen grouslies in centuries,” Zab said, turning a horrified stare at Musso.

  “We don’t want to stanch the flow. Better to let the wounds bleed. We need to get Hawk. He’ll know how to treat them.” Musso stood and went for the stack of newsflash papers on the shelf.