Page 86 of The Nowhere Witch

I wrote the list of ingredients needed, each one appearing on the table as soon as it hit the parchment.

I added things to the cauldron, swinging the pot out enough that the fire partially grazed the edge but didn’t scorch it, and stirred continuously. In a weird way, it was like making sauce, because you didn’t want to burn it, except this one wouldn’t taste good. At least, it smelled like it wouldn’t.

When it started to simmer but not quite boil, I swung it off the fire and ladled it into a glass jar, and then corked it, holding it out to the hags.

“I’ll try it,” Lead Hag said.

“No, I’ll try it,” Ringlet said.

“I’m the oldest, I should try it,” Tall Hag said, reaching to take the bottle from my hand.

Lead Hag grabbed it first. “Fine. We’ll share.”

“That’s not going to do much,” Ringlet whined.

“Well, it’s that or nothing, because I’m not handing it over,” Lead Hag said, uncorking the bottle.

“Fine.” Tall Hag crossed her arms.

Ringlet said nothing but looked irritated.

Lead Hag took a sip. Before the bottle left her lips, Tall Hag was complaining. “You took more than your share.”

“I did not. It’s thick and gets stuck to the sides,” Lead Hag said.

Tall Hag took the bottle and sipped, before handing it to Ringlet.

I’d made this before. I knew it worked because I’d bartered with Bautere, and he’d never complained. That didn’t make it any easier to breathe at the moment. It took a few moments before the hags’ skin seemed to tighten, and then a flush of blood pinked them up and gave their cheeks a rosier tinge. They turned to each other, nodding. They didn’t look like spring chickens, but they’d split the bottle, and there was only so much a partial would do. Point was, it had worked. Instead of looking like they’d crawled out of a grave, they looked like they were nearing retirement age. It didn’t soften their looks any, though. They were still one scary trio.

One hurdle down and an unknown amount to go. I could feel a bead of sweat dripping between my shoulder blades as I waited for what would come next. Would there be another test, or would they count my references? One glance at the door told me that Hawk still hadn’t arrived. If he had, the crowd would’ve parted for him to let him have the best spot in the doorway.

And then there was no doorway. Me and the hags were outside.

“We’ll need to see you in combat next,” Lead Hag said.

I’d expected this. Nothing surprising.

Ringlets leaned closer. “This will be a fight to the death. Do you agree? If not, it will mean automatic deportation.”

The crowd went silent.

Bautere had moved around the side and, with a nod, told me everything I needed. I was ready for this. I’d known it, but having him give the nod didn’t hurt any. Whether I felt like it or not, I was ready. I’d practiced hard.

Still, to the death? Did I want to live here so much I’d bet my life on it? Then again, what kind of life had I had in Salem? I could do this.

“I agree.”

There was a murmur behind me from my crowd.

“Any interference will be an immediate forfeiture,” Lead Hag said loud enough that the farthest person could hear.

I’d worn leather pants that would offer some protection for scrapes and scratches and were soft enough to move in. I shed my jacket and tossed it to Zab. I’d rather bear the cold than die from being encumbered by the bulk.

Now it was time to see what I’d be fighting. The crowd was looking around as well.

Tall Hag raised her hand, and a small bat appeared on her palm. A tiny bat wasn’t much of a fight, which meant only one thing.

The hag petted the small creature, cooing to it and looking at me. The thing squeaked and then lifted into the air. The squeak turned into an ear- piercing squeal as it grew a hundred times its size, maybe a few hundred. It was hard to measure, as I was diving behind a boulder while it swooped toward me, two claws aimed at my heart and fangs showing.