The Witch of the Castle of Glass

Chapter 16 - What Doesn't Kill Us...



Rain took a sniff of her latest brew, a mixture of herbs that she hoped would quell the itching of Mr. Fredrickson, who was standing awkwardly behind the counter of Rain on my Parade.

“It should be ready right…. now,” she muttered to herself. She poured the mixture into a used disposable coffee cup – the new ones ran out yesterday – and handed it to him.

“Drink half of this Frank, and then give the other half to Priyanka,” Rain said sweetly, ignoring the embarrassed flush on Mr. Fredrickson’s face. “Bring the cup back when you are done. I am running low.

“Thanks,” replied Mr. Fredrickson. “What do I owe you?”

“You can tell me the location of that bush that you and Priyanka…found,” Rain said slyly, pulling out a hand-sketched map of the area littered with notations and drawing of different plants.

Mr. Fredrickson pointed to a tiny cove along the beach. “It was around here. I’m not sure the exact location, but it seems about right.”

“I don’t think I’ve catalogued that plant yet,” Rain said, roughly sketching the plant as Mr. Fredrickson had described it and putting the initials F.F. underneath. “Looks like you and your lady will need to find a new private spot.”

“Everyone around here is so damn snoopy,” Mr. Fredrickson mumbled. “It’s not like we are ever going to get home. Might as well enjoy life while we can, right?”

Rain stayed silent, leaning over to stir another potion currently brewing inside one of her kettles.

“You know, I think this is working,” Mr. Fredrickson said, giving his leg a final itch. “You can really work miracles, Rain.” He looked back at the lobby and, seeing no one, leaned in towards Rain with a conspiratorial tone. “Between you and me, Mr. Stone and Ms. Brass have been talking about setting up a new discipline council for the tower. A type of court, though not a type modeled after a democracy, if you know what I mean. They intend to install Ms. Brass as the Chief Judge. Martha Cook is against it, but Jacob came downstairs this afternoon with a big smile on his face so he and Brass may have gotten their way.”

Rain raised an eyebrow. The CEOs were escalating their game. It was one thing to create a tribunal to fairly resolve disputes, but another thing entirely to create a sophisticated and corrupt court and place themselves at the top. This was about control, not resolution. Stone and Brass were playing a dangerous game.

“Thank you, Frank,” murmured Rain. “That is more than a fair trade. Now, you’d better get that over to Priyanka or you’ll have hell to pay.”

“I’m already up shit creek,” Frank laughed, heading out the door to the elevators. “But it was her idea in the first place.”

She waved at him as he rounded the corner and left her sight, then pulled out a small book to record what he had told her about the court. She frowned as she wrote down Stone+Brass, stacked court, Cook opposed in the CEO section. This would be problematic.

Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light that filled the room. Milly and Calista materialized above one of Rain’s two circular tables, crashing through it and onto the floor a second later. Milly clutching onto Calista for dear life.

“Milly! Calista!” Rain shouted, vaulting over the counter, and kneeling by their side.

Milly already had her inventory open and was shoveling grotesque body parts onto Rain’s floor. “Poisoned,” she breathed, pointing desperately to Calista in a panic, “Help her Rain. Please. Hurry!” Milly’s hands glowed blue, pressed to Calista’s stomach wound, trying in vain to keep the poison from spreading.

Rain looked at the wound, then at the body parts one by one. She grabbed the severed leg, ripped off the claw and collected a few drops of the viscus green fluid within, the foul stench making her gag.

She rushed over to the shelf above her kettles, lined with jars of ingredients she had collected from foraging. She pushed them aside one by one as she searched for the right combination. “No. No. No. No. Yes, this one!” she uttered, grabbing a stack of faintly violet leaves she had collected from the prairies. She threw them in a cup, ground them with the end of a metal spoon, and poured hot water on top. She waited fifteen seconds, allowing the leaves to heat, then added three drops of the centipede’s fluid.

Calista’s spasming grew more frantic, her limbs flailing against the cold floor. Milly’s tears fell on Calista’s chest as she struggled to keep Calista alive, the poison damaging faster than she could heal. “Rain, faster,” begged Milly, more scared than she had ever been before.

Rain waited an agonizing two minutes for the concoction to be ready as Calista struggled to breathe. She crushed the final ingredient, a tiny shell she found on the beach, underneath her knife blade as she counted down the seconds in her head. When she hit two minutes, Rain dumped the shell into the brew and raced over to Milly’s side.

“Hold her still, Milly. Your healing won’t do any good without this,” Rain ordered, tipping back Calista’s head and opening her mouth.

Milly’s glow faded, and she pressed down on Calista’s shoulders to hold her steady.

Rain poured the potion into Calista’s mouth, stroking her throat until she had swallowed every drop.

Milly waited, unbearable moments ticking away as she watched Calista with fearful eyes. Then Calista’s spasms started to weaken, the green of the poison in her blood fading slowly away as the potion began to work. Calista symptoms lessened, until she lay still in a restless slumber.

“She will be alright, Mils,” Rain said, laying a hand on Milly’s shaking shoulders. “The potion should remove the rest of the poison over the next few hours. She just needs rest.”

“Rain, you are a miracle,” whispered Milly through short gasps for breath.

Rain laid a hand on Milly abdomen, causing Milly to wince in pain. “Mils, you are hurt too,” Rain said, then spotted the blood on the back of her head, “You need to heal yourself first before you start with Calista again.”

Milly shook her head, pressing glowing hands to Calista’s injured stomach and channeling her healing.

Rain grabbed Milly’s hands and moved them to her own ribs. “That wasn’t a request, young lady. You won’t be any use to Calista if you can barely breathe.”

Rain lifted Calista gently off the ground, carrying her away from Milly and setting her onto the make-shift bed in the storage room. “Might as well turn this place into a hospital, if the two of you keep coming in here injured” Rain whispered gruffly. She reached for a clear vial filled with bright blue liquid and handed it to Milly.

“Here, drink this, Mils. It is a new recipe. Should help you fill up your magic faster. No, don’t even think about healing Calista until you’ve helped yourself.”

Milly withdrew hands secretly reaching for Calista and put one on the back of her own head, grabbing the bottle from Rain with the other. She uncorked it and drank, grimacing as it hit her taste buds.

“That’s gross, Calista,” she whined, tongue handing out in disgust.

Calista took that as a good sign. “I haven’t worked on the taste yet. Right now, it’s just the crushed remains of those yellow beetles we found in the popular copse on the prairies and a rare purple jellyfish the hunters found washed up on the beach.”

Milly felt her magic begin to fill inside her. She pressed her hands to her own injuries and focused on healing.

“If…if you hadn’t…she would be…” Milly stuttered, tears flowing as she looked at Calista.

“But she isn’t. She will be fine. Now, tell me what happened.”

* * *

Calista woke late into the evening, disoriented as she lay in the storeroom and stared at the ceiling. It took a moment for the events of the afternoon to come back to her, and she sat up with a jerk as she started to remember. She pressed a hand to her stomach, but all that was left of the wound was a swollen and sensitive band where the cut had been.

She looked over and saw Milly sitting upright next to her, eyes closed and snoring softly. She looked exhausted, face drooping and cheeks salty from shed tears. She was still in her witch’s outfit, her spectacles resting on the small end table next to her.

“Milly never entered the tower in her dress,” thought Calista, wondering why that was the thought that popped into her head. Then she remembered she was still wearing Milly’s hoodie, now sporting several more rips and tears across its back. Calista took it off and laid it across Milly’s lap. “Thanks for the loaner, you wonderful woman.”

“There is an apron next to you if you want something a little less revealing to wear,” came Rain’s voice from the doorway, “Not that I expect anyone with two eyes would mind.”

Calista laughed softly, not wanting to wake Milly. “An apron doesn’t really go with the Amazon huntress vibe I have been going for.”

“And Milly’s hoodie does?” teased Rain.

“I was cold,” Calista mumbled.

“Then you need to find something warmer. Talk to Harriot down at the Freelancer encampment. She got her second talent today and decided to become a tailor. She owes me, so tell her I sent you.”

Rain sat on the edge of the bed, feeling Calista’s forehead. “Any side effects? Nausea? Confusion? Can you see blue gophers dashing around the room? Because that last one happened two days ago.”

“A bit of confusion when I woke, but I think I’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Calista looked determined, almost vengeful.

“Calista, we haven’t known each other for very long, but I do know that look. It’s the look you get when you want to do something foolish.”

“It’s not foolish,” Calista started.

“Please do not tell me you plan to go back there,” Rain exclaimed, causing Milly to snort in her sleep.

“That thing was guarding something. I want to know what it is. What’s the point in almost dying if we don’t have something to show for it,” whispered Calista, watching Milly until she fell back into her peaceful slumber.

Rain stared at her for a long while, then sighed. “Fine, I also know how stubborn you can be. But it is a bad idea, and I will enjoy saying I told you so. I will join you, and I expect Milly will as well. I’ll start brewing some more anti-venom, just in case.”

Rain stood, grabbing The Spectacles of Hidden Design and placing them lightly on Milly face. “Now, you get that girl upstairs to bed. She drained herself, twice, trying to save your reckless hide. You owe her, big time.”

“I know,” Calista said softly. She slipped the hoodie gently over Milly’s shoulders to hide her gown, and gently bundled up Milly in her arms. She held her close and carried her over to the elevators. The guards glanced over, then quickly moved aside without question.

“Oh, and Calista,” Rain said as she was leaving, “Based on what Milly told me, we may need more than just the three of us to survive this. We’re going to need help.”

* * *

Calista placed Milly in the usual spot beneath her desk, her deep snores telling the story of her exhaustion. “We really need to find you a better place to sleep, Milly,” whispered Calista.

“What are you doing here?” spat a voice from behind Calista. Calista turned and saw Xavier standing there, covered in sweat and bile, a foul smell emanating from him. The bags under his eyes spoke of a deep and persistent fatigue that stole what little patience he had for others.

“I’m dropping off Milly,” Calista said, staring Xavier in the eyes so he knew he did not intimidate her. “And now that you are here, I want your help.”

“Help?” scoffed Xavier. “Why would I ever help you? The only reason you don’t bully me anymore is because you were busy bullying Milly. I don’t care if she has given you a second chance. You’ll get no such chance from me. Now, get out of my cubicle.”

“It’s Milly’s cubicle too, and I don’t give a flying fuck if you forgive me or not. I’m not here for your approval.”

Xavier glared at her with menace. “I’m going to get cleaned up. You had better be gone by the time I get back.” He stripped off his shirt and started walking for the bathroom, and Calista noticed the scars across his chest.

Calista followed him, relentlessly. “We both care for Milly, even if one of us is lousy at showing it. I need your help to keep her safe where we are going.”

“Then don’t go there,” scolded Xavier, “I told Milly not to leave this tower, yet she continues to ignore me. And it will get her killed. That will be on your head, not on mine.”

“You really are a selfish asshole. Do you know that?”

Xavier stopped and turned to face Calista, eyes flaring. “I don’t adventure with others. And I definitely don’t adventure with you. And if Milly really does want to be strong, she should not be adventuring with you either. Or that barista downstairs.”

“Maybe Milly wants more than just strength. Maybe she wants actual friends that don’t treat her like shit!” Calista spat, frustrated. “You know what? I think you are jealous. Milly’s not around to eat out of your hand anymore, and that kills you inside. But instead of dealing with it, you just abandon her here. Instead of apologizing, you just double down on being your narcissistic self. A loser then, and a loser now. So have fun with that.”

Calista was breathing rapidly with anger. This was not the fake anger she adopted as a high school bully. This was righteous anger born from trying to protect someone she cared about.

She could feel the chill emanating from Xavier, his eyes staring daggers at her.

“You know what?” Calista said dismissively. “Who needs you? Milly, Rain, and I will do just fine. Milly took out that centipede, and we can certainly handle whatever might be in that arena.”

Calista turned her back on Xavier, stalking off with exaggerated stomps that woke those in nearby cubicles.

“Wait,” Xavier said, and Calista stopped. “What do you mean, arena?”

Calista turned and looked him in the eye. “Milly killed a giant centipede. I doubt even you could do that. It was guarding something. Something called the ‘Arena of Choice’. We are going to head back there tomorrow, with or without you.”

Xavier stared at her, then abruptly turned around and resumed walking to the washroom. “Fine, I am in. I’ll be in the lobby at ten o’clock. Be there or you are on your own."

Calista let him leave, watching him until the washroom door closed. “Selfish prick,” Calista muttered. “Doesn’t lift a finger until there is something in it for him. Xavier, you haven’t changed at all since high school.”

She left Xavier to his own devices, walking back and poking her head over Milly’s cubicle wall. Calista smiled as she heard her snores and let her sleep.

Several minutes later, Calista was sound asleep in her own cubicle, stretched out across the floor and snoring louder than Milly.

Dreaming of a vicious centipede and a magnificent and powerful witch.


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