The Lost Years (The Guardians Book 4) (14 page)

“Stop right there or I will blow a hole through the back of your head,” a woman’s thick, Cajun-accented voice called out from behind Dina.

She froze. Thinking quickly, she began to raise her hands, open palms into the air. “I’m sorry, I got turned around in these woods, I’m afraid I’m lost.”

“Shut your mouth and turn around very slowly,” the woman demanded.

Dina did as she was told, careful to make sure she made no sudden movements. With the swipe of a hand she could render the woman unconscious, but she thought it would be best to not create any unnecessary signatures of magic with so many demons nearby.

“I didn’t mean any harm, If you’ll just let me be on my—”

“Do you take me for an idiot? Child, I could tell you were a Guardian from a mile away.”

Dina’s stomach sank as she realized she was staring directly at the woman she had been seeking. The daylight had slipped away and the moon now hung in the sky, lighting the witch’s eerie features. Her hair was raven black, matted with large knots and tangles. Her eyes were sunken, almost appearing hollow in the evening light. The witch’s lips were so thin they almost disappeared, and her skin glowed blue it was so pale. Though her appearance was unsettling, there was something hauntingly beautiful about her, as well.

“Madame Laveau?” Dina said after clearing her throat.

The woman lowered the rifle to her side, placing her free hand on her hip. “Not like this will do any good against one of you.”

“You’re her, aren’t you?” Dina attempted to confirm.

The woman didn’t answer; instead she turned and began walking away from Dina.

“Wait, where are you going?” she asked, giving chase.

“You’re welcome to stay out here, but with all the dark lord’s creatures roaming about, I’m not.”

“So, you know what happened to Rampart?”

“Damn fool I was, some plan that turned out to be.” the woman responded, though Dina felt she was more talking to herself than anyone else.

Dina followed silently until a tiny shack came into view. There was a small door in the front and only one window along a side of the structure.

“What do you mean? If you don’t mind me asking, that is,” Dina finally interjected into the silence.

“Do you think people would want to meddle with some crazy old lady when she has an army of Guardians camped out in her backyard?”

“Wait, I don’t understand. You live here because you want our protection or something?”

“Have I ever asked for protection, child? Not very bright, are ya? Sometimes all you have to have is the appearance of protection for people to let ya be.” The old witch entered her home, not turning around or saying anything else to Dina as she did.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, may I enter?” she asked, standing on the pathetic excuse for a porch.

“You’re a Guardian, seems to me you can do anything you want,” the woman replied, stoking the embers of her fire.

Dina entered cautiously, unsure what to make of the woman’s remarks. “You don’t think a lot of us, do you?”

“Suppose I don’t think about you either way. I don’t really care; I concern myself with my own business. Can’t live as many years as I have if you mess in other folk’s affairs.”

“How old are you?” As Dina asked the question, she wondered if the same don’t ask a woman’s age rule applied to magical beings.

“You sure do ask a lot of questions.” the woman remarked, looking Dina up and down.

“I’m sorry, was that rude?”

“Does it matter?” the woman asked, not bothering to shift her gaze.

“All-righty then,” Dina groaned, rolling her eyes.

“I’m guessing you weren’t lost, care to share why you’re here, or do you just want to keep trying to make small talk?”

“Not much for manners, are you? What makes you think I want something?” Dina asked, still trying to figure out exactly what she was seeking herself.

“So, more small talk then,” the woman replied, taking a seat in a wicker rocking chair. Dina watched her as she rocked to and fro, noting how she seemed like an elderly grandmother in her movements, yet her appearance was young.

“Fine— but I don’t know what you’re looking for. I’m not sure why I’m here myself.”

“People usually don’t seek me out unless they already know what they want from me,” she said, now intensely staring at Dina as she rocked slowly. “They may not want to admit why they seek me, but they know.”

“I suppose,” Dina replied thoughtfully. “Well— I guess I somewhat know. You apparently already know about the attack on Rampart. And— umm— during the attack, someone I care about was injured.”

“That’s no problem for your type. You can just heal them,” the woman snarled as if disgusted by the ease of which Dina’s abilities came to her.

Dina instantly felt her defenses rise, appalled that this stranger, this lesser being who dabbled in dark magic, dared to speak to her in such a way. Guardians were admired and respected throughout the world. “It’s not always that easy, if you must know. I was told he’s too far gone for any of our healing spells or potions to work.”

“A beau is it?” the witch asked with a grin.

“Excuse me?”

“You said he, it’s your beau who death has one hand on.”

“Death does not have a hand on him!” Dina snapped.

“We both know you wouldn’t be here if he weren’t headed to the afterlife,”

Dina paused. There was nothing she could say, the witch was right. Her voice shifted to a plea. “Madame Laveau, can you help?”

“I might be able to be persuaded to.”

“Persuaded?” Dina questioned.

“If I help you, what’s in it for me?”

Suddenly, it became clear exactly what the woman was getting at. “What do you want?”

“What’cha got?” the witch asked, leaning forward.

“I don’t know, not much on me, just some potions and my daggers,” Dina answered, pulling the enchanted heirlooms from the waistband of her pants.

“What good do enchanted weapons do me, child? I can’t use those. What else you got?”

“I really don’t have anything else on me,” Dina insisted, taking a step forward and trying to show the woman she was sincere. “I can bring you something back later. Anything you want, you just name it.”

“You don’t need to leave to give me what I want. You have payment enough right here.”

“I don’t understand— if not my weapons, then what?”

“I’ll take your hair and— I also want to bleed you,” the woman replied matter-of-fact.

“What?” Dina asked puzzled.

“You’re a Guardian. Your blood and hair could make a lot of magic.”

Dina pondered her words, and then decided to make an offer. “I will give you my hair, but I will not let you bleed me. I’ll be too weak to get back to the person I need this spell for if you take my blood, and time is to precious to waste recovering right now.”

The witch considered the proposal, sizing up the girl through squinted eyes. “You need to know, if we strike this deal, there’s no changing your mind. This kind of magic isn’t like your Tinker Bell, fairy dust you’re used to. For dark magic, a price must be paid.”

“Yes, I know, I know. I would be happy to give you my hair in exchange for your help.”

“Very well, you can shave your head while I collect everything you will need to cast the spell.”

“Wait, you’re not going to cast it?”

“Oh, no honey, not even I would mess with a spell this costly.”

“Wait, what do you mean costly? It will take more than my hair?” Dina’s chest began to ache; a dread loomed around her, fearful of what she might be getting herself into.

“Your hair is my price. Dark magic has a way of wanting more than most people are willing to offer. One never knows exactly what will come out of the spell until after.”

“Will it kill me?” Dina asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“Could,” the witch answered in a very matter-of-fact way.

It’s too late to turn back now, you love him. If saving him costs you your own life, so be it. He would do it for you, Dina thought.

“Where’s the razor?” Dina asked with an intense conviction.

“Oh, honey, you don’t really have to shave it, to the ears should be fine. I was just messing with you when I said that. Not a peep from ya though; you must really love whoever this is for!” the witch called out over her shoulders.

“More than you could ever know,” Dina murmured. “My hair is the least of my concerns, but if to the ears will suffice, then that’s what I’ll give you.”

As Dina snipped through her locks of hair, she did her best to not think about what the witch might use the strands for. It was easier to pretend she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Instead, she focused on her beloved and the fact that she would soon be returning him to health. Something in her mind allowed her to accept that such an immense right act justified all of the bad she was doing to achieve the results.

Dina’s body materialized several miles from Iron Gate. Crouching into a ball she took a moment to try and regain her composure. Clutching at the strands that tickled her chin, Dina wondered how she would explain her sudden change in appearance. Michael would not approve of her decision to visit the witch; she knew that before she ever left Iron Gate, this had been why she kept her adventure a secret. She couldn’t waste any more time, however. If Calysta was right and Raimie had a better chance of surviving the sooner she administered the spell, she didn’t want any delays.

Dina rarely used multiple transportation spells in one day and in doing so, they had begun to take their toll as she struggled to keep her eyes open. In addition to the taxing spells, she now had to walk the several miles back to Iron Gate. Even with the exhaustion, Dina refused to slow down, pushing hard and using what little energy she had left to enhance her traveling speed.

When she finally returned, it was obviously meal time. A make-shift soup kitchen line had been created just outside of the dining area and the masses were gathered, patiently waiting to receive their allotment of sustenance. Dina couldn’t help but grin, her timing was absolutely perfect, she couldn’t have planned it any better had she tried. She would use the busy time around camp as a disguise to sneak past any of her peers that may be looking for her.

She passed by the throngs of people, food the only thought on their minds, without anyone noticing her. Pushing her way through the dense crowd, she broke through to the other side where she was easily able to make her way to the infirmary. Now the hard part, she would need to slip in and retrieve Raimie’s body. Not an easy feat for someone of her stature.

Dina walked into the main room, looking around briefly for anyone she recognized; she noticed Uri was no longer in his cot. Without her friends around, there would be no one to meddle in her plans. Slipping back out into the hall, she quietly entered into the room where Raimie still rested. Dina sighed as she saw him, still in a deep sleep, too deep for her liking.

Normally when Raimie slept he looked peaceful, this was different. It was like a part of him was missing, the warmth that made him who he was. She looked forward to restoring that.

From behind her, in the corner of the room, a soft voice caused her stomach to sink. “We have to talk, Dina.”

It was Michael; he had been waiting for her. Dina forced herself to smile as she turned around casually. “Sir, you frightened me. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“That was not my intention,” Michael replied flatly.

“I was just checking in on him, he seems good though, so I’ll go and—” Dina attempted to think of an explanation quickly. “See if I’m needed anywhere else.”

Dina turned and prepared to take her leave, holding her breath in anticipation as she did so. She hoped and prayed he would not ask her any questions.

“Wait! Stop right there!” Michael commanded. Dina did as she was told, a slight ache in her chest.

“Sir?” Dina bluffed, as if ignorant of what might be bothering him.

“What were you thinking?” Michael asked sternly, not hiding his disappointment.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Dina answered, furrowing her brow and giving her best attempt at an award winning performance.

“I can’t believe you would put all of your friends in danger like that, it’s not like you,” Michael ignored her claims to ignorance.

Dina realized that no matter how coy she played it, he was not going to relent. She wondered how long it was after she left before Sophie had spilled her guts. “I don’t feel I put anyone here in danger, sir. I was very careful.”

“Careful? You can’t honestly say that with a straight face, can you? Calysta came strolling in here with a couple of clerics, some story about how you freed her and sent her here.”

Perhaps Sophie hadn’t blabbed. Dina assumed that if Michael knew anything about the witch, he would have led with that.

“Not only did I tell you to leave it alone and stay away from her, you helped her to escape using a sacred stone, and then you jeopardize us all further by not making sure she’s brought here safely. What was so important that you couldn’t escort her yourself?”

He didn’t know about the witch, this was her chance to steer him in a different direction. “I’m sorry, I know I should not have disobeyed you, but I didn’t feel right just leaving her down there. When I arrived at Rampart, the demons were trying to figure a way around the security. I knew the priority was to get her out of there, so I gave her the stone that would take her to the cleric’s outpost.”