Shauna wasn't fully paying attention while Vanora droned on about the two candles she was holding, but she still let Vanora finish before saying, "I would get the 'summer sunset' one." For a moment, she pondered keeping what she was thinking to herself, but noticed rather apprehensive looks from Esther and Molly. "Vanora, do you… have the feeling that maybe we shouldn't have left the cabin today?"
"A little bit. Why?" Vanora asked.
"I don't know. Sam has been a lot more squirrelly since the doctors let him get rid of the second crutch, and I have a feeling that he's going to push that as far as he can."
"Should we go back, then?"
"I mean, does anyone else feel that way?"
"The others will keep him from getting too nutty," Mabel said.
"He was in charge of all of them, though. He can convince them to do anything."
"Not Hans," Esther replied.
"That's not true. Remember when he and Sam wandered off to go diving off a cliff into a lake when you visited us last spring?"
"Well, would you rather Sam had gone off alone? Hans keeps him in line. Somewhat."
"I just hope he's doing that now." Shauna turned to Molly. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," Molly replied. "I just have a bad feeling of a different kind, like something terrible has happened." She thought about it for a moment. "It's probably nothing. The others can be trusted to handle things."
"I hope you're right."
Eleanor had been alone with Hitch ever since Troy, Dietrich, and her father, Tully, left to go after Moffitt. Jules went out with Carolyn to gather ash leaves needed for the potion. They still needed ginger, and the only ginger available was powder in the kitchen cabinet.
There wasn't much she could do beyond keeping Hitch comfortable, and making sure the other children didn't see. She moved him to one of the bedrooms so the bathroom could still be used, and prayed for everyone's quick and safe returns.
"How are you feeling?" Eleanor asked.
"Still breathing," Hitch said. "I'm sitting down, right? The room's spinning."
"Yes, you're sitting."
He made a weak gesture to the trashcan next to one of the nightstands. "Get that, please."
Eleanor was quick to grab the trashcan, and held it on Hitch's lap so he wouldn't drop it by accident. She winced at how violently he was retching, but nothing was coming up. She wondered if he didn't get breakfast that morning. "We should've been keeping a closer eye on Carolyn—"
"No. Stop. Please. Accidents happen. That's what your dad said, okay?" Hitch went back to dry-heaving.
"There must be something we can do."
"Wait for Sarge. That's… all you can do. He'll come through. Always does."
The dry heaves could last a while, Eleanor told herself. She noticed Hitch was perspiring badly. She took a washcloth from the bathroom, dampened it with cold water, and brought it back to press against Hitch's forehead. "I doubt this'll do much," she said.
"No, it helps a little. Very little, but… better than nothing. Still feels like… am I spinning or is the room spinning?"
Eleanor took the cloth away when Hitch leaned over the trashcan again, then brought it back when he stopped. On one hand, she felt powerless. On the other, she believed Hitch when he said that Troy would come through. After all, Troy had saved her father more times than anyone could count during the war. There was no reason for him to fail now.
"What was I thinking?" Moffitt asked aloud. "We might never find a witch village."
"It is still worth a try," Anah replied. "We may find something."
"There must be something else we can do if we find nothing. Hitch doesn't have a lot of time."
"Aside from waiting for the wives to return, we have no other options. They may be a while."
"That's true. I just hope they're enjoying themselves." Nerves tightened in Moffitt's chest. "Vanora would be in hysterics if something like this happened to me. I can't imagine how Molly would be feeling right now if she knew."
"So we must hurry."
"We might have to find a different way of getting back. This walk has been long enough already."
"Most witch villages have at least one shop that sells brooms."
"I can't fly a broom, though. I'm not able to use magic."
"You cannot, but I can." Anah grinned. "Just hold on tight, dear. I will get us both back safely."
"Alright. I trust you." Moffitt reached into his cloak hood to stroke Anah's head, then paused. "Do you smell… fire?"
"I do," Anah replied. "Quite a lot of it, but it is not a wildfire."
"A settlement?"
"Most likely. I detect a lot of herbs as well. It must be a witch village."
"Good." Moffitt breathed a sigh of relief. "How do we want to do this? We'll have to use caution."
"Not necessarily, since you have me. It is always better to be polite, but you will not have to worry about being attacked just because you are an outsider."
"Well, that's good to know, but I am still a bit nervous."
"Relax, dear. You will be alright." Anah nuzzled Moffitt's cheek. "This is for Hitch."
"Yes, and this isn't the wildest thing we've done to save his life."
"Certainly not."
They made their way down to a massive clearing, full of small cottages packed close together. Anah stuck her head out of the hood, keeping a lookout for anyone who could potentially be selling badger essence. Moffitt could feel he was being stared at, but there seemed to be an unspoken rule among the witches and warlocks that said as long as he didn't hassle them, they wouldn't go after him. They went about their business, but constantly looked at him.
"I see a man selling essences and potion bases," Anah said. "On your right, dear. Also—" She looked toward the east, a nervous look coming over her face. "We had better hurry."
"Hitch?" Moffitt asked.
"No. Troy."
Dietrich couldn't think anything more awkward and embarrassing than sitting with his bony knees jutting out in a wagon. "Troy, this is madness, and you know it."
"If we're going to rescue Moffitt and Anah, we'll need to take the village by surprise," Troy said. He had chained the two wagons together, making a train of sorts.
Tully was seated in the first wagon, chewing a matchstick. "Sarge, promise us that you're not going to just blindly attack."
"I won't. We'll watch, and we'll only attack if it looks like something's going wrong."
"Do we even know where Moffitt went?"
"He went west, so that's where we're going."
"My back does not like this at all," Dietrich griped, struggling to get comfortable. "These wagons were built for children."
"They're all we have, buddy," Troy said. "Sorry."
Dietrich bit back more curses as he continued adjusting. "Esther would probably kill you if she saw what you were doing."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure Shauna's already going to chew his ears off for this," Tully said. "And banish him to the couch for the rest of his life."
"Nah." Troy grinned a little. "This might get me the couch, but it's not like I'll stay there."
"Even if she takes your crutch away?"
"Yeah."
"I expected him to say that," Dietrich said.
Troy disappeared for a moment, then returned holding a makeshift torch, already set on fire.
"What the hell is this for?" Dietrich asked. His eyes widened when Troy handed him the torch. "Are you insane?"
"The plan is to go in and surprise them. Flying in with something on fire while we're shooting will give them something to focus on while Moffitt and Anah get clear."
"No! I object to this plan! You are crazy!"
"Damn it, Dietrich! Hitch is dying in that cabin! Either we make sure Moffitt and Anah get out safe, or we risk losing Hitch! He's got a wife and two children!"
"I am aware of that! I am saying that there must be a less dangerous way of going about this!"
"I don't care if there's a less dangerous way! I care about what'll get Moffitt and Anah out the fastest, because Hitch doesn't have time! If the fastest way was less dangerous, I'd take it! Now, are you going to keep arguing, or are we going out there and making sure our friends get back here safely?"
Dietrich sighed. "Fine. We will do it your way, Troy. Just like old times. You are in charge."
"Hey, Sarge?" Tully asked.
"Yeah?" Troy glanced over at him.
"You know Anah's fully capable of taking care of herself and Moffitt if something goes wrong. She is magic, after all. A witch village would be her element."
"I know." Troy didn't elaborate further. "We all need a little help sometimes."
"You feeling okay, Sarge?"
"You never admit to needing help." Dietrich grinned. "You really do care for Anah. You want her back safe just as much as Moffitt."
"She's a member of this family, just like he is." Troy pulled Dietrich's raincoat hood over his eyes. "You boys ready?"
"As ready as I can ever be," Dietrich muttered, taking his hood off.
"Your gun's loaded?"
"Yes."
"Mine's loaded," Tully said. "I'm ready, Sarge. Let's go see if Moffitt's okay."
Eleanor wasn't comfortable leaving Hitch alone for any length of time. When his dry heaving stopped, Hitch continued sitting upright on the side of the bed. The trashcan was still nearby, just in case. He was still breathing, and he still had a heartbeat. That was good.
"How's Mr. Hitch doing?" Jules asked, coming up behind Eleanor.
"Hanging in there," Eleanor replied. She noticed Jules had the jar with the coral snake in it. "You shouldn't be playing with that."
"I'm not playing with it," Jules said. "I think it's scared. It hasn't moved much since Mr. Troy brought it inside."
"Still. Put it back on the counter."
Jules didn't move. "I hope Dad and Miss Anah are okay."
"I'm sure they are. Troy has everything under control."
"Mr. Dietrich doesn't think so, but I know Mr. Troy can do it. He saved Dad lots of times, and Mr. Tully, and Mr. Hitch, and he's saved Mr. Dietrich quite a bit, too." Jules went into the room, and set the jar on a table before going up to where Hitch was sitting and looking weaker and sicker.
"Hey, Jules," Hitch managed to say. "You should be… downstairs."
"I just came to see how you were doing. Dad will be back soon, and we'll make you better."
"Your dad's a tough guy, Jules," Hitch slurred. "I have faith in him, and Troy."
"Miss Anah is with him, too," Jules said. "She usually doesn't like brewing potions, because it makes her think of her old life, before she was stuck in that temple, but she'll make them if someone she loves needs one."
Hitch looked like he wanted to respond, but couldn't. Eleanor dashed over when it looked like he was about to fall off the bed.
"What's happening?" Jules asked, sounding worried.
"Take that jar and go downstairs," Eleanor ordered. "Can you still hear me, Hitch?" She put one hand on his chest while keeping him from falling off the bed, then lay him on his back. She tried not to panic upon feeling how rapid and uneven his heartbeat was. "What do I do? What do I do?" More then ever, she wanted her father. Hurry back, she thought, and she began to pray.
Moffitt was quick while acquiring a vial of badger essence, without being rude. He nearly panicked when the warlock said he needed something worthy of trade, as he didn't think he had anything, but Anah offered up a sample of her own venom. The warlock found that more than fair, and gave Moffitt a jar for Anah to produce a decent sample of venom. The sample was small, but the warlock took it.
"Alright, we have our badger essence. Now, we need a broom, and we'll be out of here," Moffitt whispered.
"We passed by a broom shop on our way here," Anah said.
"What do we have that we could trade, though?"
Anah thought for a moment. "Let us see what the shopkeeper wants for one."
"We have to make it fast. If you're right about Troy coming—"
"It is not a matter of 'if,' dear, but 'when.' I sense Troy is anxious about both of us and Hitch."
"Hitch is the priority here. This place has been safe so far. Let's not ruin it."
The two entered a broom shop, which was packed with row after row of brooms of all different sizes, woods, and colors. Moffitt's gaze fell on a broom that looked to be made of hazel wood. "What do you think, Anah? You'll be the one flying it."
"Do you like it, dear?" Anah asked.
"My opinion is irrelevant."
"I do not want you riding a broom you do not like."
"Anah. Time. Remember?"
"I know, but do you like the broom?"
"I do, but—"
"Then we will buy it."
Moffitt sighed. It wasn't an argument worth continuing though. He picked up the broom, and went to find the shopkeeper. An older woman came out of a back room, and smiled upon seeing Moffitt. "Find something you like?"
"I did, actually," Moffitt said. "What would you like for it?"
"Are you a warlock?"
"Uh—"
Anah poked out of Moffitt's hood. "No. I will be the one doing the flying. This is a bit of an emergency."
"What sort of an emergency?" the witch asked.
"A friend of mine was bitten by a coral snake," Moffitt explained. "We came searching for badger essence to make a snakebite potion. The walk was quite long, and we need a faster mode of transportation."
The witch thought for a moment. "I sense you are genuine, so I will go easy on you. Are you willing to part with your watch?"
"Not particularly. It was a gift from my father."
"No trade, no broom."
"My friend is going to die!" Moffitt snapped.
"Dear, give her the watch," Anah said softly.
Moffitt sighed, then pulled his watch from his wrist.
"The watch can be replaced. Hitch cannot."
"I know." Moffitt handed the watch over to the witch. "Here."
"Thank you," the witch replied. "Good luck." She watched as Moffitt left the shop with the broom.
Moffitt walked a good distance away from the village before mounting the broom. He was disappointed about the watch, but knew Anah was right—it could be replaced, and Hitch couldn't. "Alright. How do we fly this thing?"
Anah wrapped around the grip near the top of the broom. "You do not have to do anything, dear. Just hold on." She looked at Moffitt. "Are you holding on?"
"Yes. This is actually a bit uncomfortable. Nothing like a horse."
Anah paid no attention to his complaints while slowly lifting the broom in the air.
"Nope. Nothing like a horse." Moffitt held tight to the broom. "I miss my horses."
"I am going to pick up speed, dear. Are you ready?"
"Stop asking!"
"I do not want you to fall."
"Just go!" Moffitt was suddenly jerked backwards as Anah telekinetically propelled the broom forward. He knew looking down was probably a bad idea, but something bright below caught his eye. "Wait! Is that fire?"
Anah looked down. "It is fire, and… oh, I recognize that hat." She turned the broom as she began lowering altitude.
Dietrich was still holding the torch while helping Troy and Tully pull the wagons along through the woods. He was convinced that this was a terrible and dangerous idea, but he also knew that Troy was right—they were out of time and options. Guilt crushed his stomach as he thought, I do not want to be responsible in any way for Hitch's death. I would not be able to live with myself if my lack of action results in him getting killed.
"You doing okay over there, Dietrich?" Troy asked.
"I am fine," Dietrich muttered.
Troy looked at him. "We've discussed 'fine' before, buddy. What's wrong?"
"What if my arguing with you earlier gets Hitch killed?"
"I don't think that'll happen."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I refuse to let him die. As long as I'm breathing and capable of walking, I will do anything and everything I can to save his life—" Troy paused unexpectedly, looking up. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Dietrich asked.
Troy held out his hand, motioning for Dietrich to be quiet.
Dietrich resisted an urge to sigh, and looked up. Then, he heard a light rustling sound, like something rushing past leaves, and saw a black shape racing by overhead, just above the treetops. "Is that it, Troy?"
"Yeah." Troy pulled his gun from his holster. He waited until the mysterious thing came by again, and raised his gun.
A strange and cold feeling shot down Dietrich's spine. "Wait!"
"What?" Troy glared at him.
"I… do not think we should shoot that."
"Why?" Troy's eyes narrowed to slivers of blue.
Dietrich stopped, unsure of how to explain what he felt when he saw the flying object. He struggled to find words, then jumped when he heard someone walking up behind him.
"No, you shouldn't shoot that," Moffitt said. "That was me!" He looked around at the three men and the wagons. "Why does Dietrich have a lit torch?"
Dietrich pointed to Troy.
"Why are the children's wagons chained together?"
Tully pointed to Troy.
Moffitt turned his attention to Troy. "Why are they pointing at you?"
"We came to help if something went wrong," Troy said.
"By giving Dietrich a torch and turning the wagons into a train? What were you planning on doing? Pushing the wagons into the village and shooting and setting things on fire?"
Troy nodded. "Yeah. Pretty much."
Moffitt sighed, and exchanged a look with Anah. "That might have worked with Germans, but not witches. Besides, I had no trouble at all. They're quite friendly in that village, but we should still consider ourselves fortunate that they didn't see you and your little… wagon-train of flaming destruction."
"I would have loved to see this in action, though," Anah said.
Troy sighed. "Look, I'm just glad both of you are okay."
"I could have handled any problems, dear."
"Yeah—"
"Sarge was worried about you." A big grin crossed Tully's face.
"Was not!"
Moffitt let out another sigh. "Troy, everyone knows you care about Anah. It's not worth hiding anymore. Let's get back to the cabin and make this potion for Hitch."
