Season of the Witch ending

“You know-” Calla gasped as we ran faster- “I think I had-a dream about this once.”
“Really?” I puffed back.
“Yeah.  When I was-maybe five.  I don’t remember everything-just being chased by the house.”
“Did it have chicken legs?”
“Yeah.”  Her eyes widened.  “Maybe-an early vision?”
I shrugged, wincing at my already-aggravated broken wing.
“Wouldn’t-be surprised.”
I awkwardly pulled the towel out of my shirt,* and threw it over my shoulder.
“What’s that for?” Calla yelled.
“Is it doing anything?” I yelled back.
There was a gasp.  “Yes!”
Just in case, I looked over my shoulder.  And yes, just as I’d hoped, it had become a vast, glassy lake, right there in the forest.


Why Baba Yaga kept items in her hut that could be used against her, especially in easy reach of others, was anybody’s guess.  And you’d think she’d have learned from previous times dealing with people who used the same trick.  But maybe it was for the same reason that she wanted to steal the sword.  Arrogance.  Or following the proverb of “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
It slowed her down as we kept running; Baba Yaga couldn’t swim, and as I suspected, she didn’t have the patience to go around.  So I saw her forcing the hut to wade into the lake.  The hut didn’t like it; it squirmed, and shook, and finally jumped out of the water and refused to go back in, water dripping from the floorboards.


“You okay?” Calla suddenly asked.  Since the witch was briefly inconvenienced, we were going a bit slower-though not slow enough to be overconfident.
“...You’re asking this now?”
“You look pale.  And I’m not having to struggle to keep pace with you.  Tristan, I think your wound’s worse than you’re acting.”
“I’m fine, kid.  I’ve got my adrenaline-”
Which is when I started to see colored spots before my eyes.  Because whoever is control of these things loves their moments of irony.


Calla muttered something that was almost a curse, but not quite, and then grabbed my arm, draping it over her shoulders.
“That’s gonna slow you down,” I protested.
“I’m not leaving you.  Xen would never forgive me.”
“Better get this out, then.”  I fumbled around until I got the comb.  “Lake’s probably not gonna hold her for long-”
Sure enough, we heard the sound of the mortar riding the wind across the lake.  I didn’t bother to look this time, focusing on running.
Calla said indignantly, “It flies far better for her than it did for me!”
“Well-” I gasped- “it is her mortar.”


Time for the comb.
I tossed it, just long enough to see it starting to grow into a giant impenetrable forest,** and kept going without looking back.

***

Much to my relief, Baba Yaga did not continue chasing us.  At least, not that I could sense, even though my abilities were a little off par at the moment, so she could have flown past us dressed as a belly dancer playing an accordion, and I might not have noticed.


Eventually we made it into a town with a teleportation mirror, and took the first opportunity to get home.  We materialized in the kitchen...where I’m ashamed to admit that I promptly passed out.
Hey, it had been a long week for me, okay?  And I’d just gone through a lot of physical exertion while suffering from severe blood loss; don’t judge me.


My last conscious thought was, Well, I can add this to my list of Times Tristan felt Useless.
It seemed like all I’d done the entire time was be captured/at the mercy of more powerful beings, and rely on others to do things for me.  I mean, it’s not that I wasn’t grateful to Xen, Morgan and Calla for finding out what I wanted to know, or the vodyanoy-duck for leading me to where the soul was kept...I just felt like I spent more time being acted upon than doing any acting of my own.  Definitely not my finest hour.


I regained consciousness to find myself in bed.  My limbs felt heavy, making me realize after a moment that Xen must have bitten me to keep me paralyzed for some reason.
How long have I been here?
My eyes slowly flicked open, and caught sight of Xen sitting by the side of the bed, glaring at me in a way that made me nervous.
Seeing I was awake, before I could even try to speak, she leaned down and kissed me.  Which felt wonderful, after everything I’d been through.
When she finally stopped, I gasped, “For a moment I thought you were going to hit me.”
“I did consider it.  But decided I’d rather do this.”
“Is there a reason why I’m paralyzed?”
“So you stay in bed until your blood cells have sufficiently multiplied.”
“Geez, doc, you’re taking your practice very seriously.”
She glared at me again.  “You have a bad habit of underestimating the extent of your injuries.  While that can be an admirable quality, it also makes me occasionally want to strangle you.”


“...How’s our son?” I asked.
Xen finally smiled.  “Waiting for his daddy to get better.  He keeps wanting to come in and play with you.  I had to be firm and tell him to let you sleep.”
My throat constricted.  “Well...can I at least see him before bedtime?”
“Of course.  Until then, go back to sleep.”
“Yes, boss,” I sighed.

***

So far there have been no nasty repercussions from Baba Yaga or Koschei the Deathless.  But we’ve been on alert, just in case.  And trying our best to recuperate.  Xen’s had me on a lot of bed rest while my blood cells regenerate and my broken wing finishes healing.  Phil plays with me as often as he can, and hopefully soon I’ll be strong enough to carry him on my shoulders again.  Calla’s been very quiet and thoughtful about whatever the witch told her.  I haven’t pushed about it, figuring she’ll tell me if she wants to, but I am undeniably curious.
For now, though, I’m trying to enjoy life with my family until some new catastrophe hits us.

* Snapping off a button in the process; dang it.
**Which, if the story was correct, she wouldn’t be able to go through, and every time she tried to fly over it it would just grow higher.  And trying to chop down the trees with her iron teeth would just result in splinters in her mouth.  Hopefully she wouldn’t try her magic instead; I wasn’t sure if it was resistant against that.

Season of the Witch part 14

I awoke with a jolt.  A second of confusion, and then everything flooded back to me: Baba Yaga, Calla, Mr. the Deathless, the sword, capture, bleeding-how long had I been asleep?!
I jumped up, feeling an adrenaline rush-and nearly fell over as my vision became covered with colored spots.  I used my left hand to grip the chair, but finally had to slump to the floor and lie down for a few minutes until I could see straight again.
Right; let’s try this again.  First of all, better check my hand.
I pulled it up from my chest, where somehow I’d been able to keep it for all this time, and took a look.  Thank goodness, the bleeding had stopped.  Now it was just clotted with a lot of dried blood.
I miss Xen.


I tried to make some sort of noise; the spell, however, had not worn off, making it impossible even to croak.  Not that I really needed my voice at the moment.  It would just be nice to have it back eventually, you know?  I decided to focus on getting out of here.


Now that I was actually free, and wearing the shaded glasses, I could see that my prison was made out of some kind of stained glass.  It was actually quite pretty, now that it wasn’t searing my retinas and I wasn’t tied to a chair.  The voices were back, too; to my surprise, their conversation made me suspect they were the voices of tourists.
“Come look at this!”
“How long do you think it took them to make that?”
“Derek!  Come back here!”
“I’m bored…”
“Do you know if we can take pictures?  All the signs are in Russian.”
And those were just in the languages I could understand.


My sense of smell was cut off by the glass, so I couldn’t tell if it was all an illusion or not.  So I began looking around the room, trying to find any other potential spells or curses that might be set up.  Eventually, in the far corner I found what looked like an alarm spell-probably set to go off if I broke the glass, since it hadn’t been triggered by my freeing myself from the chair.
Unless I just didn’t notice it went off, and he’s now watching me, waiting to see what I’ll do…
I’ve got to take that chance.
Quickly I found the loophole in the spell, and unraveled it.  A very big risk, but it might buy me some time.  Then I crouched down, and smashed a hole in the floor with my uninjured claw.


It turned out that I was forced to break a few more holes before it was big enough for me to squeeze out.  But once I did so, I leaned my head and shoulders out, bracing my arms against the sides.  Beneath me there appeared to be an entire horde of giant people walking around, examining Russian artwork.  This startled me, before I realized: They aren’t giants.  I’ve been shrunk!


One of the people had noticed the little shards of broken glass that had fallen, and had gone to a security guard; he was pointing at where I was, and I could make out the words, “...think the bulb burst...might want to get that fixed…”
I’m in a lightbulb?  Must be something like that-those fancy stained glass light fixtures up top would do the trick, if Mr. the Deathless kept a tiny dimension or something inside one, like a genie bottle...Well, better get out of here before they come to investigate.


I jumped out of the hole I’d made in the glass, and glided down to the ground, ignoring the wave of dizziness that overcame me as a result.  I landed in a corner of the room, by the doorway; a good thing, too, because a few seconds later I found myself growing back to normal size (thankfully along with my clothes).
That makes things a bit easier.  Now, question: am I still in the right place?
I suddenly heard a voice call, “Stop that man!” and saw two frog-headed men* in Russian guardsman’s uniforms running toward me.
Yup, I’m in the right place.
Barely taking time to look at my surroundings, I turned into the first corridor I could find and ran.

*Disguised to any humans, of course.

TANSTAV part 36

Chapter 10 part 2

As bad as that sounds, it was very necessary.  She had to check and make sure there was no shrapnel or remains of bullet left in my body, before she could do any real healing.  How can I describe the process of being vivisected while one is still alive and mostly conscious?  Let me see...oh, yes.  As I once said to an annoying reporter during the rare moment I agreed to an interview, even a masochist would find the process impossible to enjoy.  Xen has also told me that it’s basically the most disgusting thing she has ever done, but she knew she had to in order to save my life.  Some of the experience’s kind of hazy, and I think I blacked out once or twice, which was probably a blessing.  One of my more vivid memories is Xen reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small packet of white powder.

"What's...that?" I managed to gasp.

"Powdered Yoon bone," she replied, opening it.  "It'll help regrow your ribs and clavicles."

"They...shattered?"

"Oh, yeah.  Big time."

Despite the distressing circumstances, Xen kept her voice calm.  I admired her self control, and that she was trying to act like a doctor.

She took out a pinch of bone, and gingerly placed it in a few select places.  I idly wondered where she'd gotten it.  I hoped the Yoon it belonged to was already dead, or that the bone had had to be surgically removed, or something.  As the powder got in my system, the sharp pains I was feeling began to go away.  Ah, good, the stabbing sensation in my lung had dissipated, and with some spit, Xen plugged up the hole.  As soon as she was sure all the bones were put back together, after adding a bit of her blood to prevent infection, she coughed up a large glob of spit (also very gross), and began dribbling it into my wounds.  Once in a while, I would point out a spot that Xen had missed, or groan in pain, but other than that, things were going pretty quietly.  I noticed that Calla had freed the other prisoners (except Jessup, thank heavens), and had also moved Fleming, who was unconscious and bleeding, into another cage.  She came over to where we were.

"How is he?" she asked.

"He's on the mend, thank heavens," Xen replied.  The girl's shoulders rose and fell in a sigh of relief.  It was then that I drifted out of consciousness again.

It didn't seem very long before I woke up again, but it must have been, because I felt a lot better.  Granted, I was still weak, and I once again felt like I had after being thrashed nearly to death by those hired goons (No, I am still unwilling to tell you about it; it was very humiliating for me); but I could tell that the holes in my guts and shoulders had closed up, and my insides felt good as new.  I slowly opened my eyes, and saw Xen staring anxiously down at me.  I was abruptly a bit anxious myself; having to save someone’s life by tearing them open, and then putting them back together, is a very intimate, personal process.  What if she was so repulsed by what she had to do that she no longer loved me?  Seeing me awake, she smiled with relief; but what if she was just trying to keep me happy?  Behind her, I saw Calla, who wiped her eyes, and cried out, "He's alive!"

I smiled weakly, hoping it wasn't showing my fear, and whispered, "Hey, Xen."

"It's about time," she replied.

Then, remembering something she'd said while attacking Fleming, I said, "Uh, Xen, technically I'm not your-"

"Tristan," she interrupted, "shut up."

And then she kissed me.  I shut up.

When I was finally allowed to talk again, the first words out of my mouth were, "Marry me, Xen.  Please?"

I know, this was not in my original plans.  But I couldn't wait.  I had to ask now, before something else happened.  She stared at me in shock. A full ten seconds passed, making me nervous.  Maybe she was too grossed out to still want me.  Then, with an expression of utmost delight, she cried, "Land sakes, Tristan!  I thought you'd never ask!"

Pulling me up, she hugged me.  I asked, "Does that mean yes?"

She sat back, and scrutinized me, trying to see if I was serious.  Realizing I was, she looked me right in the eyes, and said slowly, "Yes, Tristan.  Yes, I will marry you."

That made everything all right.

After a long, long while, I finally thought to see what Calla was doing.  I glanced over in her direction, and saw that she was standing by the altar, arms folded, staring up at the ceiling.  She was humming slightly, and I got the impression that she was embarrassed.  I tried to stand up, and felt my limbs all simultaneously collapse.  Thankfully, Xen was there to catch me before I could do a faceplant, and drape my arm around her shoulders.

"Take it easy," she cautioned me, "You just nearly died.  Give yourself some time."

Slowly we shuffled over to Calla, and I held out my other arm to her.  At least, I made a gesture at her with my free hand.  She came over, and hugged me around the chest, not caring about my bloodstained clothing (don’t worry, after gargoyle blood cools down, it’s safe to touch).  With effort, I returned it.

"I'm so glad you're alive," she murmured.

"Hey, I wasn't gonna leave that easily," I replied.  "Someone's got to be there to look after you."

Calla gave a small laugh, the first I'd ever heard from her.  It was sweet.

At that moment, the police finally arrived.  Ishida burst into the room, with what seemed like half the police force in tow.

"What the devil is going on here?!" he barked.  "What happened?  What's all this mess?"

Xen pointed at Fleming, and said, "He's the one you want."

I added, “You’ll want to arrest him for kidnapping, attempted murder, theft, necromancy, and deception.”

“Deception is not against the law!” Fleming, who was finally awake, squawked indignantly.

“True,” I shot back, “but it is a commandment.”

“The ninth, to be precise,” said Calla.

I nodded to her.  “Thank you, Calla.”

Two cops headed for the cage; I asked the chief, "How did you find us?"

"We traced the last signal we'd gotten from your phone, and-"  Ishida stopped, and frowned at me, looking confused.

"Why do you have blood on what remains of your shirt?"

"It's...complicated, chief.  I'll tell you in the report.  Just know that you've got two new prisoners, one of whom needs to go back to Chernabog, ASAP.  And let me know if you find a hooded cloak, or if Fleming has any notes about this.  I need something to add to my collection."

(I keep little mementos from all my cases in a file cabinet at work.)

With the help of the girls, I shuffled over to the cage where my enemy stood, glaring at me, his handsome face contorted with a paroxysm of deepest rage.

"Hi," I said.  "You know, being behind bars really suits you."

"This isn't over, Wormwood," Jessup hissed, "I'll get out again, and when I do, I'll come for you, and your lady friends, and make sure that before you die you watch them undergo the most horrible, painful-"

"Spare me.  If I had a dime every time someone threatened my life, I’d have-” I did a quick mental calculation- “about twenty dollars.”

“You've been threatened by two hundred different people?” Calla gasped.

“No, some of them repeated themselves.  Anyway, Jessup, you don't have a snowball in Texas's chance of getting out.  And if you do, I'll be waiting.  You name the place."

"Yeah.  We'll be waiting too," growled Xen.  She bared her fangs at him; I noticed that Calla, though looking a lot less intimidating, did have her best glare on.  She whispered, "I hope you enjoy prison, sir."

It was then that we decided to go home.  I'd had enough for one day, and besides, we had some plans to make.

TANSTAV part 23

Chapter 6 part 4

After her bout of hysteria had subsided, I got Calla to eat some soup.  Because I was feeling kind of hungry again, I ate some too.  We sat at the kitchen table, munching in silence.  Then I noticed that Calla was watching me eat, eyebrows furrowed.

“What is it, kid?  Expecting me to be slurping it up like a savage jungle beast?”

“No.  I-I just noticed that you’re left-handed, like me.”

“Actually, I’m ambidextrous.”  I demonstrated by effortlessly switching the spoon to my right hand.  “But Xen’s left-handed.”

“Who’s Xen?”

“My...friend.  She’ll show up at some point.”  I continued, “Getting back to what I was saying, many monsters are left-handed.  It’s no big deal to us.  It’s probably part of the reason why humans used to think it was such a taboo, and sinful thing; primeval memories associated the two.”

Calla murmured, “I see,” and inhaled a noodle so fast it flipped her on the nose as it went in.  She managed a small smile at that.

When we finished, she went back to bed; and, finally admitting defeat, I did too.  When I awoke, it was 7 in the morning.  Normally, I would have gone to work now; however, Ishida had said that Calla was to be in my care.  And, since she was forbidden to leave this apartment, I was unsure if that meant that I had to stay here too.  Reluctantly, I called him to find out the exact details of her incarceration.

After about 3 rings, his voice came grumpily through the receiver.

"What is it, Wormwood?"

"Since the girl has to stay here, do I have to too?"

"Huh?  What- Oh.  Yes.  Yes, until further notice, you are temporarily relieved from working with us.  Only go out if you can get someone to replace you."

Silently, I punched the air.

"Thanks, Chief."

"My pleasure," he said dryly.  "Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do."

"Oh, wait!  I forgot to add: I got her set up with a psychiatrist.  Dr. Higgins.  Does she have to stay here for those too?"

"...I'll send a message to Dr. Higgins to make it a house call," he sighed.  And with that, he hung up.

For three weeks, I spent most of my time in my apartment.  Xen came over as often as possible, in order to help look after her, and every other day, Higgins came for the therapy session.  I don't know the exact nature of his treatment, since I usually took those times to go to the station or work on the case, but I do know that soon Calla was looking a lot better.  The bruises faded, and having healthy meals made her look less cadaverous.  Xen went out shopping for her, and bought her some new clothes, which fit her frame a great deal better.  Furthermore, she responded well to the therapy.  I think Higgins might have cheated a little, using some kind of spell to calm her nerves, but if it did the trick, I was okay with it.  Within two and a half weeks, Calla's serious brown eyes began to lose that haunted look.  Not completely, but to an acceptable degree.  A few times, I even made her smile.  A small, timid one, but a smile nonetheless.

However, while she may have been improving, my case was going nowhere fast.  I watched the tape, and it showed zilch.  At 8:30 am of that day, Jessup was still in his cell, lying on his bunk, staring up at the ceiling.  The list of enemies brought no clues whatsoever, since they all had alibis, and were not known for having any motive for kidnapping that I could find.  I brought the magic samples down to the station, and a mage (not Fleming, thankfully) found out that the one outside the senator's house and the one in the elevator had both been used for teleportation.  The one in the cell had been a hypnotism spell.  That certainly made things suspicious, but it wasn't really concrete evidence.  We still couldn't find out who the fragments had come from, and I was sure Jessup wasn't gonna talk.  It was possible to use a spell to force the truth from him, but it had the side-effect of shattering the person's mind.  As delightful as that would be, it was also highly illegal.  Dang it.

Anyway, the three weeks were soon up.  Calla went to the police, made her statement, and the case was officially recorded and filed.  Since she was a legal adult, and had no known relatives and nowhere to go, I took her back home with me.  Well, that’s not the only reason.  Our laws have a special clause called the Mercy Clause, installed by President William “Billy” Bones back when he was in office, regarding people who kill in self-defense.  If they have true remorse for their actions (we have ways of confirming that), and it’s clear that they hadn't planned to kill the person beforehand, they can avoid time in prison if they can instead be put in the custody of a trusted relative, or the equivalent, to make sure they don’t get into trouble again.  As there was no one to fulfill this role, to her knowledge (her mother had left when she was eleven, and she didn't know where she was, and the judge and Ishida preferred to just get this over with, rather than spend time looking for her), I stepped in as her non-official guardian.

Now that she was no longer under house arrest, Calla was allowed to go stay at Xen's place while I went to work.  With a small sigh, I headed for the office.  It was a Monday, so of course my spirits were already rather low (not to mention it being April, the cruelest month), without the added weight of having no information regarding the senator.  I slumped at my desk, and doodled furiously on my legal pad.  Suddenly, I heard a knock at my (newly repaired) door.

"Come in," I called.

The door opened, and in came that freaky zealot I'd met in the street!

As soon as we saw each other, I could tell she recognized me.  She flushed to the roots of her hair, and for a moment looked as if she were about to beat a hasty retreat.  But after a moment, she composed herself, and entered.  I, however, was slower to adapt, and gasped "You!" in a strangled tone.

Standing straight at attention, Freaky Zealot Girl said calmly, "Mr. Wormwood, I have a case for you."

I rolled my eyes.  Why else would she be here?  However, I decided not to comment.  Remembering my manners, I said, "Please take a seat, Miss..."

"Greenbriar.  Morgan Greenbriar."

Without further ado, Miss Greenbriar sat down in the chair across from me, and said, "I need your help.  One of the people I have been caring for at my center has vanished without a trace, and I would like you to find him."

I must admit, my eyes popped slightly.  Two people missing within three weeks of each other, in the same city?  That sounded too close to be a coincidence.