“Have you calmed down now?” I ask the assassin. She’s had quite the day and I feel like I should get her in a more stable mood before I tell her that necromancer was active just over an hour ago.

“No, not really,” she runs a hand over the shaved part of her head. “But I’ll be fine.”

She pats the space behind her on the cot for me to sit there.

I sit behind her and she leans back to rest on my thighs.

“I’m tired, what time is it?”

I answer her.

“Shit, really?”

Her body is warm and heavy on me, but I don’t protest. She crosses her arms over her eyes.

“Can I get an hour of rest?”

I can’t tell if she’s asking me or the universe.

When I put my hand on her chin she doesn’t flinch like I thought she might.

“You can take all the time you need,” I answer her.

Hollyhock’s skin is dry and some salt is leftover from her sweat. I gently brush the crystals off.

“You swear I didn’t hurt you?” The assassin asks. With half her face covered, I can’t tell what her expression is. She pushed me out of the way, it didn’t feel great but didn’t hurt that much.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Would you tell me if I did?”

“If you did hurt me, I doubt you’d need me to tell you.”

That came out harsher sounding than I meant it.

“What I mean is, even then you had some idea of what was going on. You didn’t hurt me or anyone else that wasn’t involved. We walked through a crowd of people and you did nothing to them.”

She inhales deeply through her nose and exhales from her mouth.

“That’s good, I suppose.” I thought she was going to say something more but she stays silent. There’s a lot I have to say and a lot I want to ask, I have to keep my mind off the questions creeping into my mind; why wasn’t I scared? Why didn’t I feel anything for the men she killed? This isn’t an area of myself I want to explore at this time, not when there’s so much to be done.

“I remember the first time I killed someone, that day was a lot for me,” she starts to say. I haven’t heard this story before. “I was maybe sixteen but, I don’t know my age so who knows, and it was kinda high profile but lax. Every Bay Leaf killer has to do a mission like this without backup, to see their competency for it. I chose the job. Some up-and-coming rock star. He thought he was hot shit, ego preceded his actual fame.” She recalls.

“Son of a bitch did a gig a club, afterparty got a little too wild. He forced himself on a girl, she was a prostitute, so the cops did nothing when she reported it. Piece of shit was set to be a headliner at a concert a few days later.” Her arms are still over her face. “The girl’s pimp hired us to make an example of him. So I went to the concert, he played like he didn’t know what instrument he was using. Honestly don’t know how he had any fans. They finished their set and I went backstage and waited. He snuck off to snort something, coke I think, he found some secluded corner.”

She breathes deeply.

“I had practiced with guns for years before that day, thought I was used to their weight but that summer night, felt like I was carrying an anvil in my hands. He didn’t hear me walk up behind him, between the crowd and stuff being set up, but I swore he would’ve heard my heart beating if it wasn’t for all that. I knew the band that was about to play had fireworks planned. The whole time I’m standing behind him, sweating like I was the one about to die, trying my hardest to keep the gun steady. If he turned his head even a little, he would’ve seen me. But he kept looking forward, enjoying his high, staring into space. The fireworks went off and I pulled the trigger. To this day I don’t know if it was ‘cuz I wanted to or if I was startled.”

She raises an arm to make a gun gesture with her hand, fires it, and puts her arm back down.

“The bullet came and went through his head and no one else knew. He didn’t even know what killed him as he slumped forward. Blood and brain were everywhere. Immediately felt sick, had to swallow my vomit and keep it pushing. I grabbed a bottle of something, it was vodka, drank some, and didn't feel better at all. Ran back to the crowd to blend in...the band people came to see was playing. Now they knew how to play. People were going wild, some girl pulled me into a portable bathroom. She was high as a kite on ecstasy, she was either looking for a girl called Rayla or her name was Rayla, but I don’t know why she’d say her own name. Had my first kiss right then and there, she didn’t mind the taste of alcohol, and I desperately needed the distraction. Minutes later and I was having sex for the first time too. It was terrible all around, I didn’t know what I was doing, and she might’ve just been looking for a distraction too.”

Hollyhock shakes her head.

“I’m saying all this ‘cuz every significant event in my life has been tied to death. It’s inseparable from me. I don’t want it to be something I can just black out, fucked up as that sounds...I sound like a maniac.” She sits up, uncovering her face. “I just don’t want to forget shit anymore.”

🌿💀🌿

“I want to show you something,” the witch says to me. She turns to face away from me, moves her long hair to the side, and lifts her shirt.

There, between her shoulder blades, is a patch of severely burned skin. It’s just a bit bigger than my hand, shaped like a crater. The center over her spine got the worst of it. It healed as best as it could, the skin lighter and shinier than the rest of her skin, but the center still looks red and raw.

“Jesus Christ,” escapes my mouth.

“It looks worse than it is,” Witch-Hazel comments.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ bad. Like a third-degree burn,” I counter.

“Well, you’d be correct.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Just the opposite, I can’t feel anything at all there. Been there for two years now.”

“Goddamn,” I say. I move to put my hand on the burn but think better of it, instead, I rest it on her right shoulder blade.

“I got this for being cocky,” she says. “We have magic duels back in IronHenge as a part of our education. For witches, it’s just to make sure we can handle ourselves if a dangerous situation arises. But I was breezing through my opponents, fellow witches who don’t have much affinity for combat magic. I asked for a sorcerer, someone who would know how to fight. I wanted something more.”

I can’t help but wonder what face she’s making, turned away from me.

“They obliged my request, getting a sorcerer that had nothing better to do. They might’ve expected a quick fight, but I didn’t give one. The sorcerer was the more experienced fighter, but slower than me. I kept myself upright throughout the fight, didn’t yield, and didn’t hold back. It wasn’t easy but I knocked him down, flat out on his face. Watching him struggle to get back up, I thought he had enough and would either submit or pass out. I turned my back on him to get my next opponent. I got hit with a fireball the next second. Went through my clothes in less than a second, since I didn’t have my aura shield up. Fell to my knees quicker than that. If someone hadn’t taken the heat out as quickly as they did it would’ve reached bone. It hurt all the same. I blacked out.”

“What happened to the asshole that did this?”

“I think he died a year later, fighting a-” she stops as if remembering something “a creature of some kind.”

She pulls her shirt back down and I slip my hand out. The witch turns around to face me.

“I know it doesn’t exactly line up with what you’re going through, but I never fully healed this because I learned an important lesson from it. Never turn away from something until you know it’s done.” She fixes her hair.

“I just wanted to share something with you since you’ve shared so much with me,” Witch-Hazel says. “But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.”

I gently rub her arm.

“Nah, it was big of you to tell me. Couldn’t have been easy, but thanks.”

Her hand finds mine for a moment, soft skin resting on my super dry skin.

“Get some rest, we have something to do later, and I don’t need you passing out on me.”

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I’ll tell you in a bit, so rest up, I’ll back in a bit.”

‘I am exhausted.’

“Fine, but only an hour, okay?” I demand. She pushes me back onto the cot.

“Sleep,” she makes a demand of her own. Witch-Hazel gets up to go somewhere.

The cot is harder than I remember.

‘Did I really use to sleep on this thing?’ My legs go over the edge of it, my feet dangle somewhat uncomfortably. ‘Where’s she going?’

🌿🔮🌿

I approach a Bay Leaf who I’ve met before, Larkspur I believe their name is.

“How is she?” They ask.

“She’s...shaken, but fine,” I answer. Larkspur shakes their head.

“Last time that happened she came back with a dislocated shoulder and was missing a tooth. Least you were watching out for her this time,” they comment. Seeing what she can do, I have to wonder how many people it would take to put her in such a state.

“She’s resting right now, but can you tell me how to get to Tamara’s office?”

Larkspur shows me the way and leaves me.

I enter the room to see the short leader of the Bay Leaves staring out a window.

“How is she, Hazel?” she asks without turning around.

‘How’d she know it was me?’ As if she heard my thoughts she answers,

“Your shampoo is really strong, smells just like this chocolate shop I visited in my youth.” She tilts her head. “Wonder if they’re still open,” she mutters to herself. “So, how is she?” Tamara asks again.

“She’s fine, no injuries. Not physical anyway.”

“Hmm,” the response I’m offered. Tamara walks away from the window to a bookshelf. She pulls a fake book to reveal a hidden mini-fridge. She grabs a couple of bottles and a glass. “Want a drink?”

“No.” She just raises an eyebrow at that and pours herself a drink. It smells like beer and lemonade. She lets the bottles stay on her desk and swirls her drink around.

“Better ask your question before it burns a hole in your head,” she says while returning to the spot I found her at.

“Did you do this to Hollyhock?” I ask point-blank. Tamara sips her drink before answering,

“If you’re insinuating that I somehow afflicted Hollyhock with a fugue state psychosis, then you think me too much of me.”

“I don’t know, you seem resourceful.” She sighs.

“No, I didn’t purposefully traumatize her in such a way that she sometimes goes on killing sprees. It’s not exactly good for keeping low profiles.” she sips her drink again. Sensing my dissatisfaction with just that she continues. “It’s happened to her before when she was much younger. Quite a few times, actually. I hoped that she would grow out of it, but it seems like it’s here to stay.” She stares down at her drink, swirling it like there might be an answer in the liquid.

I know she’s hiding something. Koki’O knows what it is but won’t share it. I have half a mind to use a truth-seeking spell on her.

“Just so you know,” Tamara starts. “You’ve been in dangerous waters ever since you came to this city. And with this, you’ve gone from wading to treading in them.” She sets her drink down and walks over to me. Despite being below my eye-line, she doesn’t turn her head up to look at me; making me crane my neck down. “I just hope you’re a strong swimmer if you’re going to accuse me of shit.” She burrows into me with her dark brown eyes. “I’m the fucking shark around here, and don’t think for one second you’ll be spared my teeth.”

She doesn’t know I could incinerate her right here, right now. And why would she? In her sphere of influence and knowledge, she’s completely unaware of the horrors lurking in her city.

Tamara of the Bay Leaves may be hiding something, but she’s not the problem I need to deal with. Not yet anyway.

I let her threat go. Fighting Hollyhock’s boss isn’t going to get me anywhere.

“I was being rash, excuse me,” I offer. “I’m going to get Hollyhock and go.”

“See that you do, and try not to let her get into any more trouble.”

I don’t respond as I leave. Heading back to the sleeping area, I gently rouse Hollyhock. The assassin wakes up immediately, maybe she wasn’t even asleep.

“We have a necromancer to hunt down,” I tell her.

Ch. 14 End.