Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

My face drooped. "I-I don't think I have enough control to be that help."

"If you have a pinch of magic in you then that'll be enough for me," Clara insisted as Tegan helped her to her feet. She nodded at the fire. "Get flaming, dragon, and I'll heat up a fresh spell."

While Tegan worked his magic, I took up his position as inquisitor to our companion. "You wouldn't happen to have a guess about who might have hit you, do you?"

Clara wrinkled her nose. It made her resemble a pug. "No, but when I catch that fiend I'll give him a piece of his foot to eat." I had no doubt she meant that literally.

The witch marched past me and over to an assortment of very used pots and pans. She picked out one of the blackest pots and moved over to the fire Tegan had crafted from his hands. "Step aside now, dragon, and we'll see what can be done. It might not be easy with some of my herbs on the porch."

"Maybe the window isn't bewitched?" I suggested as I moved over to the glass.

"I can feel it all around us," she countered as she stared disapprovingly at me before she shot Tegan a sharp look. "Are you sure she has a speck of magic in her?"

"Can't you sense it?" Tegan wondered.

Clara lifted her nose at me and gave me a thorough look over. "I sense something about her, but it's all a mess. There's too much blood to make sense of it all."

"That would be a blood contract," I told her.

"Two," Tegan corrected me. "We have Zahn to thank for a second one."

My face drooped. "Must we?"

The witch's ears perked up at the mention of that name. "Zahn? You know him?"

I blinked at her. "Do you know him?"

A look of complete and utter disgust passed over her face and she even added a sneer to the expression. "What possessed you fools to fall in with that fiend?"

Tegan stood and turned to us with a grin. "It's more like he fell in with us, but that's a story for another fireplace. Can you get us out of here?"

"I'll see what I can do," she muttered as she carried the pot over to the fire.

Clara hung it on the spit and poured in a pitcher of water before she began her scavenger hunt around the hut. She plucked vials, bottles, and even boxes from the shelves, tables, chairs, and floor and dropped all the mess in front of the fire. The witch popped everything open and filled the air with an interesting smell. It was somewhere between a mix of vomit and two-week-old roadkill.

I clapped my hands over my mouth and nose as my bile rose in the back of my throat. Even Tegan skittered away from the witch and over to my side where we proceeded to unconsciously walk backward until our butts hit the far wall. I looked longingly at the window and door and seriously considered throwing myself at the glass to give that exit a try.

Clara tossed dozens of items into the pot and the water became more and more bracken. Huge bubbles formed on the surface and popped, creating a new scent for us to ‘enjoy.' Just when I thought I'd lose consciousness from the odor, Clara clapped the last box shut and nodded at her concoction.

"Now for the final ingredient," she announced as she half-turned to me. "Your blood."

Some of my blood drained from my face. "Pardon?"

She frowned and beckoned to me. "Come come. Stop wasting time with that stupid look and get over here."

Tegan set a hand on my shoulder and held something out to me. I turned and realized it was the handkerchief that had gagged Clara. I gladly tied the cloth around my face and ventured close to the gurgling concoction and the wicked witch.

Clara snatched a knife from the mantel and the sharp blade glinted in the light from the flames. She expertly spun the handle so the tip pointed downward and held out her finger. A quick flick and a tiny bead of blood popped up from the end of her digit. She held her finger over the mess and gave it a shake, loosening a single droplet that fell into the pot. The surface bubbled even more enthusiastically and steam rose in thick tendrils. The mist swirled around the top of the hearth before disappearing up the chimney.

Clara leaned into the hearth and took a peek into the dark interior. She pursed her lips. "It didn't quite escape. Yes, we will definitely need your blood."

"Even the chimney is blocked off?" I guessed.

She nodded. "Yes. Whoever stuck us in here is very thorough." She held out her hand to me. "Now give me your hand."

I reluctantly held out my hand and Clara grabbed my wrist. She pricked my finger and I winced at the slight touch of pain. A single drop of blood pooled on the tip of my finger.

"Now let's add it to the pot," she instructed me as she tugged me closer to the fire.

A foreboding struck me and I dug my heels. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

She glared at me and tugged on my arm. "It's the only way!"

I didn't budge. "This might not be safe. My magic tends to be pretty explosive."

Clara narrowed her eyes at me. "Stop this foolishness. We will not escape without it."

I sighed. "Alright, but I hope there's enough of us to escape."

She tugged me the last stretch and held my finger over the pot. The blood had congealed during our argument and she violently shook my finger to loosen a droplet. I watched in slow motion as one tiny tear slipped out of the wound and fell toward the gurgling mess. Premonition and my perpetually bad luck made me throw myself to the ground, inadvertently taking Clara with me. Tegan did the same behind us.

I didn't need to see when the droplet hit. It told us with a massive explosion of light that blew out the glass and flung the door open. The many vials and glass jars shattered, blasting their contents everywhere around the room. The warm wind swept over us and up the chimney, extinguishing the fire and driving all the cobwebs and dust to swirl about in a fury of choking dirt.

The blast was thankfully brief and I lifted my dust-covered head to view complete chaos.

Clara did the same and her face twisted with horror. "My lovelies!" She scrambled to her feet and began scooping all the contents of the jars and vials into her pots and pans. "All my work ruined!"

I climbed to my feet as Tegan did the same, brushing himself off. "I did try to warn you," I reminded her.

She shot me a look of death and wagged a wooden spoon in my direction. "How did you do that? What treachery is it in your blood?"

Tegan set his hands on my shoulders and shook his head. "We don't have time for that. We need to get back to the house and see what's the matter with Miles."

He slipped toward the door, but I grabbed Tegan's arm and arrested his movement. "Wait a second. Didn't Miles mention something about how somebody wouldn't let us out?"

Clara dropped more gunk into one of her pots and wrinkled her wizened old nose. "Trickery or lies. He has spouted both today."

Tegan stared ahead at the open doorway and frowned. "I wouldn't have expected him to betray his master's wishes."

She scoffed. "You can never tell with anyone these days. Now out with you or I'll get out first."

Tegan's eyes darted over the area. Nothing stirred save for a few blades of grass which the ocean breeze disturbed. "I don't think either of those is a good idea. He wouldn't have left us here without some sort of guard."

"Why is he doing all of this, anyway?" I wondered. "I mean, what does he have to gain by keeping us from going to the trial?"

"I haven't finished the final preparations," Clara spoke up as she threw her hands up. "Gah! Useless! I will have to replace everything else!"

Tegan caught my eye. "You noticed Miles' unusual behavior after he shut us in."

I nodded. "Yeah, but I just thought maybe he'd gone off the deep end." I received a blank expression for that colloquialism. "Gone insane."

Tegan stared ahead at the door and pursed his lips. "I'm not so sure but we'll have to get out of here to find out. I'll go first."

I tightened my grip on his arm and frowned at him. "Why you?"

He grinned at me. "Because I have scale plate armor."

I stared at him a moment before I released him. "Point taken."