A Witch's Trial (Witch's Path Series: Book 3) (16 page)

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

I thought for a moment. There wasn't anything that needed to be done around the greenhouse, but he was ready to do more exciting things. "Yes, tomorrow you should set up a bench in the experimental greenhouse, and you can start working on crossbreeding magical plants. I think the crocus would be a good place to start."

"Really?" Luke swished his tail and shifted from hoof to hoof.

"Yes, just remember that you must get the crocus to bloom out of season before you can go further with the experiment." Given the nature of the crocus, that was more difficult that it sounded.

"Thank you, si—Elron."

"You are most welcome. Have a good day, Luke, and thank you for the book." I smiled.
 

"I'll see you tomorrow." Luke walked sedately out of the greenhouse, but I heard him prance down the hall.
 

I gave the Radiant Bleeding Heart one last pat and made my way to the hidden tulip. It was still invisible, so I sat next to it, opened the book, and started to read.

The pages were yellowed with age and made of a heavy, wrinkled parchment that had fallen out of use many years ago. The writing was not the traditional cursive, but a bold, blocky print that was still legible after all these years.
 

Being legible did not make it easy to read. When this book was written, spelling had yet to be standardized, and time had shifted pronunciations. Even for one as old as myself, it was trying to decipher the intended meaning. Luke must have spent weeks working his way through the book.
 

I was familiar with many of the plants and considered the information listed incomplete, but there were a few I did not know. The basil was one I hadn't seen before, and it seemed that this variety was native to the Mediterranean. When dried, it tasted of basil and had spiciness commonly associated with peppers. Near the end of the book, an entry caught my eye. The sketch was of a darkly shaded orchid with long petals drooping past the rest of the blossom. My eyes skipped to the text.
 

The orchid was rare, often growing alone. When in bloom it glowed at night, but finding the orchid was difficult. It had been discovered in different parts of the world but did not regrow in the same place every year. No one knew the ideal growing conditions, and the author could not find anyone who had been able to cultivate it in a garden. The flower was prized because legend said could be used to make a poison that would bind a demon to a body so it could be killed.
 

My eyes shot up to the title of the entry. Demon's Bane, a flower that could bind a demon to a body. There was something about that name. I traded Luke's book for Sylvia's diary, rapidly flipping through the entries. From beginning to end the first letter of her signatures was D-E-M-O-N-S-B-A-N-E. Oh, what a fool I had been. Sylvia's signatures spelled demon's bane.

Beside me, the air shimmered and the tulip reappeared, quivering with excitement.
 

I took a deep breath to calm myself and gave my attention to the tree. "You don't need to hide. We want to be able to see you."

It didn't care about visibility right now. It brushed my shoulder and dropped a leaf on the book.
 

"I know I've seen that flower somewhere." The tulip's leaf reminded me of where I'd seen the flower. "Oh," I said. "It was in the clearing with you."

The tree swayed, and my Calling hit me full force. I had to go back to the woods. I needed to be there. Now would be good, a few moments ago would have been better.
 

I took a deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. Seven breathing cycles later, I'd forced the Call down to a persistent push and could continue communicating with the tulip tree.
 

"So, I clearly need to return to the woods, but when would be the best time for me to visit?"
 

The tulip was insistent that it did not matter when I went to the woods as long as I did so quickly.
 

"All right. Let me finish reading this, and I will be on my way."

It was satisfied with my answer.
 

With a sigh, I turned back to the book and read the entire section on demon's bane from start to finish. There wasn't much that was helpful. The author had only seen the plant once, had never harvested it or concocted the poison. Whilst the author's attempt to catalog the plant was commendable, the lack of information was apparent.
 

"Will you try not to hide? You upset Luke," I told the tulip.
 

It agreed to stay visible, though not necessarily in its magical skin, if I would hurry to the woods.
 

I thanked the tree for the information. On my way out, I stashed the book in my desk with a note that it belonged to Luke. If anything happened to me, the book would be returned to him. As tempting as it was to bring the book, it was not my property to risk. Besides, the information was easy enough to remember, and the book would be here if I needed additional information.
 

I did take Sylvia's diary. That wasn't a book I was willing to leave behind. The world didn't need to know the secrets it contained. And there was a good chance there was more information hiding in its pages.

I parked my car in the same spot I left it last time and did my best to follow the Call. It was easier than trying to retrace my steps, and if I moved too far in the wrong direction, I felt a physical tugging.
 

Before long, I found myself beside the hidden tulip. The orchids were invisible, as they had been before, so I carefully sat down and reacquainted myself with the tree. It was happy to see me, but it was not as friendly as it had been before.
 

As time passed, the tone of the forest changed. The woods went from tolerant and amused to aloof and curt. It was an unexpected change, but not surprising since the woods had not been overly welcoming last time I visited.
 

I addressed the tree one more time. "Can you please show me the flowers? I need a few of them."

The tree refused. It would show them to me, but would not let me harvest them.

"Then I must go." I turned and started back to the car, my Call weighing my feet down until each step was an effort.
 

The tree called out for me to return.

Turning back, I sighed. "I must have the demon's bane, and if you will not allow me to harvest any of these, I must find it somewhere else."

It was adamant that I should not leave, but it would not give me any of the orchids.

"I will visit again, but right now I must find demon's bane," I told the tree. Its branches drooped, and I felt bad. The tree wanted to help me but felt unable to for some reason.
 

"For what dost ye need the bane of the demon?" a raspy voice whispered.
 

I spun around, finding a fey studying me from behind a tree. He watched me with green eyes that were overshadowed by bushy gray eyebrows. His hair matched the tarnished gray of his brows, and bits and pieces had fallen around his face and shoulders after escaping the leather tie holding it away from his face. Although the weather had chilled, he was wearing nothing but roughly woven pants and a leather vest. His arms were thin but corded with muscle.
 

My heartbeat slowed. The forest was exceptionally fond of this fey. It had masked his approach and dissuaded me from encroaching upon his land last time I was in this area. There were stories of fey who lived outside society, clinging to the old ways. Even to one as old as myself, the ways these fey remembered were foreign and ancient. It was prudent to tread carefully when interacting with a being that was old, powerful, and potentially favored social niceties that had been current four to six thousand years ago.
 

"I need it to help me kill a demon," I said carefully. The Call had pulled me here and wanted me to meet this man.

"A demon walks terra?" The words were heavily accented and pronounced slowly.
 

"A demon walks terra, but"—I did some quick math in my head, trying to find a metric of distance he would understand—"two days' ride from here."
 

"Dost ye know how to prepare the bane?" The gravelly sound was more pronounced.
 

"No."

"Dost ye know how to dispatch thy demon?"
 

"No." I tried to determine what the fey was thinking, but his facial expression had not changed since the conversation began. There was nothing for me to do but answer his questions and hope for a beneficial outcome.
 

"Then ye need my aid. I am Varro." He stepped around the tree, slipped a knapsack off his shoulder, and pulled a curved dagger from his belt. The ground around a tree to his left shimmered, and four demon's bane appeared. He quickly sliced the flowers off the stems and stowed them in his bag.
 

"Ye will come with me, then I shall go with ye. And speak. I must learn the new manner of speaking." Varro strode into the portion of the woods that had rejected my presence, and I trailed after him.
 

Michelle was rubbing off on me, because along with thinking about the knowledge Varro could share, I was trying to figure out how well he would tolerate being in a car.
 

"What is yer name, boy? And tell me of this demon," Varro grumbled.

"I am Elron. The demon's name is Gremory. He is hunting a witch because she interfered with his plans—"

"Do not recall a Gremory." Varro shrugged. "There were many… too many to remember them all. Ye have a witch? Good. Ye shall need her."

I'd assumed we would need magic, but the way Varro said it made me think Michelle was going to be there for more than moral support. His other words resonated with me. How many demons had there been if he couldn't remember their names?

"Keep talking."
 

I did as I was told. He seemed to have knowledge we lacked, and my Calling had yet to steer me in the wrong direction. "Gremory appears to be occupying the body of an elf."

Varro swung around. "Say that again."

"The demon appears to be occupying the body of an elf."

He pursed his lips and barked, "Be ye sure?"

"Yes."
 

His head dropped and his shoulders rounded. Varro let out a gusty sigh and raised his head to meet my gaze. "I not be angry with ye. 'Tis ill tidings. Keep talking. There is much to be done."
 

I continued my explanation as we trudged deeper into the woods. The occasional grunt was all I got from Varro. Eventually we came to a stop in a clearing occupied by a small cabin. The rough logs that made the walls didn't leave any room for windows, and it was small enough that it couldn't have much more than a bed and small cooking area inside. The door was made of hide stretched across sticks. Hundreds of years ago, it would have been a very average home.
 

"Wait," Varro told me. He didn't look back as he continued through the clearing and into the house. Moments later he emerged, and the knapsack had gone from almost empty to bulging, and a rolled-up blanket was lashed to the top. He had clad his bare feet in ankle-high moccasins.
 

"Did ye travel on foot?"

"No."

"By horse?"

"A type of wagon," I answered. It was not an untruth. My car was called a wagon, though it had no resemblance to the wagon he probably pictured.

"Ye must take me to the witch. There is much to be done. Lead on, and keep talking." Varro grunted.
 

I set off in the most direct way to the car, keeping up a running dialog on most of what I knew about Gremory, leaving out the part about him using my wife's body. I did not have time to get weepy, and it was not a pertinent detail at the moment. As I talked, I slowly worked in references to different things that were unique to the modern world, specifically the past twenty years.
 

Varro broke in. "What be this cell phone ye speak of?"
 

"Varro," I said softly, "when was the last time you left the woods?"

"'Tis hard to say. There was talk of lamps that glowed without burning. Some places in the city had them."

I kept my face blank. The first lightbulbs were in the early 1800s, though electricity had not become common until the 1900s. Either way, that put his last interaction with the modern world before the invention of almost everything in use today, including cars.
 

"Things have changed since then, and not just the way people talk."

He nodded. "I know. I have a… friend who visits from time to time. I have seen some new things."

"All right. I will explain what I can." With that, I led him out of the woods. There was nothing more for me to say. If he was what I suspected, then he had survived thousands of years and horrors beyond imagination. A car would be the least of his experiences.

Varro looked at the car and back at me before growling, "'Tis not a wagon."
 

"It is what people today use instead of wagons."
 

Varro walked around the car and poked it once. "How dost ye use this wagon?"

"I will guide the wagon." I led him to the back passenger door. "Place your things in here."
 

He watched me pull the key fob from my pocket and tensed when the doors locks clicked over. He continued to watch my every move, his eyes following my hand as I pulled on the handle and swung the door open. The inside of the car was given a thorough once-over before he would set the knapsack on the floorboard. He was equally nervous getting into the car.

I settled Varro in the car and rushed around to the driver's side. Lady Luck was on my side; he didn't damage the car while he waited. Once inside, I did my best to demonstrate the use of a seat belt. 

"Varro, you need to put on this harness. It will keep you in your seat if something should happen."