Chapter 16
Hortense sat on a makeshift bench fashioned from splintered wood and rusted iron, her nose wrinkling as she observed Hazelton pacing across the cold, desolate floor of the warehouse.
The cinder block walls loomed tall and oppressive, stained with dark streaks of grime from years of neglect.
Concrete rubble littered the ground in jagged piles, interspersed with rusting heaps of metal that looked like the forgotten skeletons of some long-abandoned machinery.
Tall, filthy windows lined the upper walls, their once-clear panes now clouded with dirt and cobwebs.
Many were shattered, leaving jagged edges that let in shards of sunlight, illuminating swirling motes of dust. In one corner, water dripped incessantly from a broken pipe, forming a small, stagnant puddle that smelled faintly of mildew and decay.
“Why are you so upset?” Hortense asked, her tone flat but probing. She needed details—something to justify why she was stuck in this miserable, joyless pit when she should be preparing for the busy season ahead.
Spring was already here, and summer was creeping closer.
There were countless tasks demanding her attention in the forest. The underbrush needed clearing to make room for the new growth; food and herbs needed to be planted; furniture had to be pulled out and cleaned, and seeds needed planting to ensure her troupe’s survival through the next winter.
Yet here she was, wasting her time in this soulless concrete prison while Hazelton fumed and muttered.
The idiot demon thought he had a master plan, but all she’d seen over the past several weeks was failure. Every day, he returned to this decrepit hideout, growling and snarling about witches and making plans that never bore fruit.
She leaned back against the wall, careful to avoid the rough, crumbling surface that might snag her tunic, and sighed. “What’s the problem now?”
Hazelton stopped pacing and turned to glare at her, his fiery eyes glinting in the dim light. “The problem is that my plan hasn’t worked,” he growled, his voice reverberating through the cavernous space. “Yet!”
Hortense raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “If you actually had a plan, perhaps it would have worked by now.”
His glare intensified, but she wasn’t cowed. She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m just saying, pacing and muttering aren’t going to catch your witch. Meanwhile, I’m stuck in this miserable hole, surrounded by concrete and rust, while my forest goes untended.”
“You think I don’t hate this place?” he snarled. “But that damn witch isn’t just going to walk into my trap! I need time!”
“Time,” she echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve had weeks, Hazelton. Weeks to catch this ‘powerful’ witch you keep ranting about. And what do we have to show for it? Nothing.”
She folded her arms and looked him over with barely disguised disdain.
The man exuded fury, but it was the kind of impotent rage that grated on her nerves.
“Look, I don’t even like witches,” she continued, “but at least they get things done. They have spells, councils, plans. What do you have? More pacing?”
His jaw clenched, and she smirked at his frustration.
Still, Hortense sighed, resigning herself to her predicament. The sooner Hazelton succeeded, the sooner she could leave this wretched place and return to her trees. “Fine,” she said, leaning forward with a begrudging air. “What can I do to help, oh mighty demon?”
He paused, clearly not expecting her offer. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why would you help me?”
“Because the sooner you catch your witch,” Hortense said, her voice sharp with exasperation, “the sooner I can get out of here and back to my forest. That’s all I care about.” She sighed with irritation. “You only need me to trap this witch in a forest prison. So let’s do this!”
The dripping water punctuated the silence between them, a monotonous reminder of the dreary space they shared. Hazelton looked at her for a long moment, his fury simmering just beneath the surface. “Fine,” he finally growled. “Let’s figure out how to lure her in.”
Hortense leaned back, staring at the crumbling ceiling above her. “Great. I can’t wait.”