Chapter 7 #2
“Thank you,” Auggie said, then turned to me and Freya. “All of you.”
I nodded, then offered him my arm. “Here, I’ll help you up to your room.”
“No, no,” Auggie said, sitting up. “I can …” But he grew tired from the effort and slumped back onto the couch.
I smiled. “Don’t be stubborn. I carried you up to the house; I can help you to your room.”
He nodded, and I assisted him in standing, allowing him to lean heavily against me as we ascended the spiral staircase.
Auggie looked embarrassed the entire time.
The first room we came to was crammed with skeletons of all sorts: birds, reptiles, snakes, armadillos, as well as with skulls of larger animals like horses and rams. Earthworms squirmed in a bowl beside a coffin, and I realized that this must be the zombie’s room.
“Okay,” I said, backing out. “We’ll just …
try again.” I helped him into the next room, this one much more appropriate for a guest, sparse but clean.
A vase stood on the nightstand with more of the periwinkles and baby’s breath that Lexi had threaded into her hair.
With the sunshine pouring into the room, it looked like the perfect place for someone to repose and heal—provided the zombie next door didn’t visit him in the middle of the night.
Auggie sighed as he dropped onto the bed. I pulled covers up to his stomach, then sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry our trip met with some unpleasantness.”
“It’s all right. I’m just sorry I’ve been such a nuisance. I’m sure you have other things you’d rather be doing than whisking strangers to …” Auggie leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You’re friends with a witch?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Is that a problem?”
“I don’t trust witches.”
I snorted, amused. “Yeah? And why would that be?”
“Because they’re only ever in it for themselves. And it usually comes to us humans at a steep cost.”
I let his words hang in the air for a moment. This probably wouldn’t be the best time to bring up that I was a witch myself.
“I suppose you’ll want to get a move on to New York,” Auggie said. “I’m sorry if I delayed you. I understand if you need to continue without me.”
“Don’t be silly,” I assured him. “Business can wait another day or two.”
“You don’t mind waiting until tomorrow? As much as I hate to admit it, I think I’ll need the day to recuperate. That should be sufficient, I think.”
“It’ll give me the chance to catch up with my friend.”
“Oh, good. Thank you, Callum. That’s very kind of you.” Auggie reached out and placed a hand over mine.
I gazed down at Auggie’s hand on mine. His were soft hands, as if he hadn’t worked particularly hard and had lotioned them regularly. My calluses must have felt garish by comparison, and I pulled my hand away self-consciously, hiding my hands in my lap, as if he would insist on seeing them.
“You didn’t have to carry me long, I trust?” Auggie asked.
“No, not long,” I said, waving a hand dismissively, my arm choosing that moment to remind me how sore it was and throbbing with strain.
“It was a pleasure to hold you. Er … carry you, that is.” Gods, the heat in my face was scalding.
And why did I have to say “pleasure?” Could my mind not conjure up something a little more creative and less … intimate?
I roused myself, finding that I enjoyed this boy’s company far too much. “I should let you rest now.”
I stood to leave, but Auggie reached out and grabbed my hand. He held my eyes with an intimidating stare that felt far too intimate, yet I couldn’t look away. “Thank you.”
I sucked in a breath. “For what?”
“For caring about a random stranger. Not many people would these days.” He dropped my hand.
“I try to make up for that by doing as much as I can for people.” He looked away.
“I’m grateful that you’ve proven there are others as well.
I’ve relied on the kindness of strangers since my mother’s death.
She rented a room above the pub. The owner took pity after she died and let me stay on.
She even offered me a job to pay for it and to make a little money of my own. ”
“I’m … sorry to hear about your mother,” I mumbled, unsure of what else to say. Nothing could be adequate.
“Ah, it’s all in the past. And anyway, I think that’s why I like to help people.”
I nodded thoughtfully. I saw the holes in his logic.
The pub owner had gotten a capable employee, one who’d grown up around the pub and knew the ins and outs, no training necessary.
Auggie was labor to her. He had to work to retain his lodgings.
Auggie may have benefited from her needs, but nonetheless, it hadn’t been a completely selfless act.
Humans were not saints—not even Auggie—although I was searching for flaws aside from his stubbornness and naivety.
“You know, Lexi is just trying to help people too.”
Auggie sent me a look of disbelief, as if the very idea was absurd. “Yes, well, witches have ulterior motives.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Lexi literally just helped you without asking for a thing in return.”
He waved a hand. “Because you know her. I bet she frequents your herb shop.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. “That’s not … Lexi’s not like that. You can ask anyone in town, and I’m sure they would sing her praises.”
“Yeah?” He gestured around him. “She can afford this on charity, then?”
“I’m sure she … harvests ingredients to make coin.”
He rolled his head to look at me. “That’s how you know her then?”
I hesitated. “Yes.”
Auggie pinched his lips together momentarily. “How does she prioritize who she heals? She can’t see everyone with a hangnail.”
“Well, I’m sure—”
“People must offer to pay for her services to see her sooner,” he interrupted. “And some illnesses might simply be beyond her or require more energy than she’s willing to spend.”
“She gets her energy from other—”
“And if someone couldn’t pay the price, she would let them die, never mind who they’re leaving behind.”
“I hardly …” I noticed a tear gathering in the corner of Auggie’s eye. Oh.
Auggie angrily swiped at his eyes as I looked away, a pang in my heart.
I wish I could say it surprised me that a witch could behave with so little empathy as to let a sick mother die, but …
it didn’t. I wish I knew the ingredients of my shop were guaranteed to go into the hands of witches of high caliber, but the truth was those ingredients could be used for good intentions or for bad.
It was all up to the user. I merely provided the ingredients.
I hoped for the best, but at the end of the day, a witch like the one who’d neglected Auggie’s mother could have just as easily been a customer of mine.
“Your mother must have been quite a woman,” I said softly.
Auggie smiled. “Yeah, she was the best. She taught piano lessons. I used to love watching them—the joy on her pupils’ faces. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but Mother could bring out the best in anyone with a sliver of talent.”
I nodded. “Is that who taught you about herbs and spices? Your mother? Or your father perhaps?”
“Oh, no. I never knew my father. That was mostly me. But my interest doesn’t end with botany.
There’s a group of alchemists in town interested in the sciences: chemistry, biology, physics.
Some may think that God has abandoned us, but He has given us the gifts of the natural world, through them.
” He shrugged. “I’m close to alchemists.
I love watching them pray over their concoctions with the words of prayer handed down to them. ”
I nodded slowly. A group of alchemists. Interesting. I wondered what a group of them could accomplish. Like a coven of witches, perhaps several alchemists magnified their power, if you could call prayer magic. Or the sciences, for that matter.
Auggie was looking down at his lap. “I could always introduce you to my friends, if you’re that interested. Perhaps Mrs. Chartreuse would be interested as well?”
I scoffed. “Please. I’m hardly the marrying type. And even if I was, women certainly don’t interest me.”
“Really?” Auggie looked up quickly. “I’m the same. Or rather, I would like to marry one day, but not a woman.” His eyes glanced at me once more before he turned away. “Why wouldn’t you marry?”
“I don’t want to be tied down,” I said. I pushed away thoughts of my deal with Lucifer. I didn’t need to unburden myself on this boy. He clearly still had hope for true love when I thought it little more than an illusion.
“For what it’s worth, I think you would make someone very happy if you gave them a chance.
” Seeing I wasn’t in agreement, Auggie cleared his throat.
“Sorry for babbling. Witches have always made me nervous, and being under the roof with your friend is a little unsettling.” Realizing he may have offended me, he straightened.
“Maybe she’s as selfless as you profess, after all. She seems nice enough.”
“Lexi is the … kindest person I know.”
I could tell him right now that I was a witch.
He would no doubt find out at some point along the journey, especially if other witches came for him.
Yet, just now, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.
What if he no longer wanted to travel in my company?
My job would be all but impossible then.
I needed to think on how to break it to him.
Auggie yawned and I took that as my cue. I stood quickly, even as Auggie blinked away the tears the yawn had produced. “You’re not going?”
I smiled, patting his hand. “It was good talking to you, Auggie, but you need sleep. I’ll be just downstairs if you need me. I promise to keep the big, scary witch at bay.”
Auggie scoffed, but leaned back in his bed all the same, closing his eyes.
I stepped out of the room and closed the door behind me, standing there for a moment. My conversation with Auggie had unnerved me. Of course, I would be receiving a reward for this kindness I was showing him, and even that was a lie, covering up what had occurred to keep me in his good graces.
It troubled me that Auggie could have made a pact with the Devil. He didn’t seem like the type whatsoever. Was what he’d learned of alchemy a part of it? Lucifer wouldn’t risk giving such information to a human. It would undermine his own operations with his demons and, by extension, the witches.
Lucifer had only ever directly intervened in the affairs of witches a few times, destroying witches who’d had the idea to rid the world of humans.
Ludicrous. The Council of Witches was formed to respect the balance, including what humans provided.
Without humans, Lucifer wouldn’t have souls to feed upon.
The witches wouldn’t have vital resources from human bodies, like hair and virgin blood, for spells.
Not to mention the economic advantages that would be lost if we stopped doing business with them.
Hunting down creatures for potion ingredients had already had some devastating effects on populations of magical creatures.
Unicorns were extinct. Goblins nearly so.
Some potions would become impossible without the ingredients harvested from them.
If humans ceased to exist, magic as we knew it could very well follow.
Human bodies provided ingredients for a significant number of spells, some of which we have come to rely heavily upon for basic ways of life.
We needed humans, whether we liked it or not.
Perhaps that sort of forbidden knowledge was worth the price of Auggie’s soul.
But Auggie wasn’t an alchemist himself. Perhaps the connections he’d made to alchemists had been the bargain they’d struck.
Or Auggie’s intelligence in general? He must have gained something significant from the exchange if he’d been desperate enough to call on Lucifer at the crossroads.
But it could have just as easily been about his circumstances after his mother died.
I was grasping at straws trying to guess.
And I hardly needed to know. I merely needed to get this boy to New York.
Anything beyond that was none of my business.
I shook my head, as if to clear it. I didn’t want to think about my own reasons for having sought out Lucifer. I’d had over a century to try to forget it.
A board creaked on the stairwell, and I found Lexi climbing them. She leaned back against the wall and looked me over. “You look well,” she told me.
“You as well.”
She tilted her head, nodding toward the door closed at my back. “You want to talk about it?”
I sighed. I owed her that much, for bringing this to her doorstep.