Second Sight

  When he spoke his voice sounded far away, like I was hearing an echo of them. "Please help me."

  I frowned. "Why me? Help you how?"

  "Please help me," he repeated.

  Movement at the corners of the oasis caught my attention. The white world slowly consumed the green one.

  His voice grew softer. I could barely make out the words. "Please help me. . ."

  My eyes shot open. I sat up and gasped. Orion put his hands on my shoulders and held me still. "Easy there. Don't move."

  I sat on the floor of his living room. We were both still naked.

  I whipped my head to him. My heart pounded in my chest. "W-what happened?"

  "You slumped over just as we finished. I've been trying to get you to awake up five minutes," he told me.

  I stared at the floor and ran a hand through my wet hair. "Was. . .was that a dream, or something else?"

  He frowned as he draped a blanket over my bare shoulders. "Was what a dream?"

  I dropped my hand and shook my head. "I don't know, but somebody wants us to find out."

  Orion grasped my hands and looked into my eyes. "What happened?"

  I snorted. "Starting from when? When you first kissed me or when I lost consciousness?"

  His didn't return my smile. "Both."

  I sighed, but brought him up to speed on everything that happened. When I finished he leaned back. His frown had deepened.

  "We need to get this thing out of me," he commented.

  I nodded. "Yeah, but how? Bentley's out of commission and-" I gestured to the darkness outside, "-it doesn't look like anybody else is going to be open yet."

  He took hold of my hand and pulled me to my feet. "I think I know a couple of people who might be able to help." He paused and glanced down at us. "But we'd probably better get some clothes on."

  I grinned. "We might fit in too well?"

  Orion tugged me toward the stairs and shook his head. "No, but they might think we're willing sacrifices."

  I tapped the tip of his nose. "You know the strangest people."

  That got a smile out of him. "You have no idea."

  I was about to find out, but after a quick trip to the closet. A few clothing items later and we strode out of the house with the folder in hand. The dark sky and my watch told me it was one in the morning.

  I slipped into the passenger seat of his car and stifled a yawn as I tossed the folder into the back. "So who are we going to see, anyway? Vampires? Zombies?"

  "Witches," he informed me as we pulled away from the curb.

  I shook my head and waved my hand at him. "Those are last week's news. Give me something fresh to work with."

  "They're pretty witches," he added.

  I arched an eyebrow. "That last witch we met wouldn't have been pretty even with a paper bag over her head."

  "Your prejudice is showing," he teased me.

  I crossed my arms and glared at the dashboard. "Pretty witches. Next you're going to tell me there are vegan vampires," I quipped. I turned my head and glanced out the window. The Halloween decorations were a blunt reminder of the world I now inhabited. "So what do the kids dress up as in this town? Office workers and baristas?"

  He nodded. "And the scariest creature of all, reporters."

  "Hardy-har-har. Now how are these witches supposed to help us?" I wondered.

  "They might be able to get this spook out of me, or maybe tell us what your dream meant," he explained.

  I snorted. "That's a lot of 'ifs' and 'maybes.'"

  "You have a better idea?" he returned.

  I frowned and slunk down in my seat. "No, but I don't like the idea of seeing another real witch. The last one tried to wipe my memory like it was an incriminating hard drive."

  "It was for Darnell," he pointed out.

  I glanced out the window. The town was left behind and the forests were all around us. It wasn't the same road as the special tree, and ran perpendicular to the highway some ten miles to our left.

  "You told Ambigo we wouldn't leave the town," I reminded him.

  He shrugged. "I'm sure this'll be all right. Besides, we won't be here long."

  Famous last words.

  CHAPTER 7

  The paved road ended some two miles out of town, and from there we bumped another five miles on dirt road to a turn-off that made the dirt road look like a three-lane freeway. Orion played Russian Roulette with the potholes as we barreled down the muddy road. Every watery hole threatened to swallow the entire car. I grabbed onto the oh-shit handle above my car door and hung on for dear life as we bounced our way down the muddy lane.

  "Are we even in Oz anymore?" I quipped.

  Orion smiled. "You'll know if we ever leave the Hollow."

  The not-highway to hell lasted for some five miles before we reached the end of the road. The lane opened to a large, circular meadow. The area was alive with campfires ringed with large stones. Wide-mouthed cauldrons hung over the fires and spewed forth white steam. Sparse green grass grew in tall patches against the wooden wheels of canvas-covered wagons. A primitive corral stood halfway in the woods and was filled with thick-set horses. In the muddy paths between the wagons women in long dresses and white blouses walked among the wagons, a few with little girls in tow.

  Orion stopped the car just off the road and gestured with both hands at the area. "Here we are."

  "A gypsy camp?" I guessed.

  He grinned. "Not just any gypsy camp. This one is an Amazonian gypsy camp."

  I glanced from the camp to him. "You're joking, right?"

  He nodded at the camp. "Do you see any guys?"

  My face fell. "You're not joking."

  Orion shook his head. "Nope."

  I pointed at him and then the camp. "So if this is a camp full of misandrist gypsy women how are we going to talk to them?"

  "We aren't. You are," he explained.

  "And how am I supposed to do that?" I wondered.

  He shrugged. "Work your feminine charm on them."

  I rolled my eyes. "That only works on guys."

  "Then work your male charm on them."

  I opened my car door and put one foot out. "You know what, I think I'll just wing it."

  I stepped out. Orion leaned over the seats and waved at me. "Have a good time at work, honey."

  I slammed the car door in his face and marched into the encampment. Many of the women stood around the campfires stirring their large pots and cauldrons. Others sat on the short flight of steps that led up to the back doors of their wagons.

  All of them looked at me as I approached. I smiled and waved. "Hi. I was just wondering-"

  "If you could expunge a spirit from your male friend," one of them hissed.

  I stopped and furrowed my brow. "Yeah, and-"

  "Find out what it wishes," another added.

  My smile grew strained. "Yeah, so-"

  "And you also wish to break the curse placed on you by your mate."

  The last one to spoke was a tall woman that stepped to the front of the pack. She was a tall, beautifully tanned woman with long black hair that trailed to her rear. Her attire wore a long skirt and woolen trench coat. In one hand was a roughly-fired bowl of clay, and in another were some dried herbs.

  I frowned. "That's getting a little personal there."

  She smiled and shrugged. "We don't deny our gifts, we merely speak their truths."

  I arched an eyebrow. "I thought gypsies weren't supposed to tell true visions to outsiders."

  "It is a favor we grant to any who live in the Hollow in exchange for permission to live here," she explained. "Now if you would follow me." She turned and strode toward the largest of the wagons.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Orion. He nodded. I returned my attention to the camp and hurried after the woman. The short steps into her abode were covered in giggling little girls.

  She waved her hand at them. "Off you go."

  They covered their giggling with their hands and scattered to th
e four winds of the encampment. We entered the wagon and I gagged on the smell. The interior stank with the herbs and spices that hung from the wooden ribs above our heads. One side was covered with hanging pots, pans, and more clay bowls of various sizes. Against the driver's seat was a short bed covered in brightly-colored quilts. On the right was a small table filled with stones, furs, and beaded jewelry. A bit of clothing hung out of a trunk beneath the table. A pair of tall stools in the middle of the wood-plank floor finished off the decor.

  She gestured to one of the stools. "Please be seated." I took one stool and she the other so that we faced each other. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mirela, leader of the gypsies who encamp here."

  "I'm-" She held up her hand.

  A sly smile slipped onto her lips. "I know who you are, Miss Lyal."

  I frowned. "You learn that from your tea leaves?"

  She grabbed a paper from the table and held it up. It was a copy of the Daily Brew dated a few weeks back. On the front page was printed my picture and an article about the downfall of the town's mayor.

  "Not all information is worth a handful of herbs," she told me.

  "So how can you help me? And how do you even know why I'm here?" I asked me.

  She set the paper down and smiled. "With such questions we shall commence business. I know which question bothers you the most, but perhaps we will deal with the most pressing matter first."

  I arched an eyebrow. "So you guys-"

  "Gypsy women," she corrected me.

  "So you gals can see visions or something? Is that how this is going to work?" I guessed.

  The woman smiled and crunched the bits of dried herb in her hands. She tossed the remains into the bowl. A small puff of smoke rose and she cupped the bowl in both palms. The fumes floated into her face. She closed her eyes and breathed deep.

  When she opened her eyes they were an illuminated green. Her voice was deep and hollow like she spoke through a long tube. "You seek to dispel the spirit from your mate."

  "I think we've already established that," I quipped.

  "And you wish to know what has guided the spirit to you," she added.

  I shifted on my stool. "I hope I'm not paying you by the word."

  Her eyebrows crashed down. "You are an unbeliever. That bodes ill for you."

  I shrugged. "Only if you curse me with the Sickness, but I'm hoping another curse would just cancel out the one I already have."

  Her hand whipped out and grabbed my wrist. I gasped at the cold touch of her frigid fingers. Her voice was louder, almost booming. "You do not understand the danger that lies before you. I see death in your future."

  I tried to jerk my hand from her grasp, but she had a hold like iron. "That better be in sixty to seventy years."

  Her green eyes stared into mine and she shook her head. "No. Before the month is out you shall know death."

  I wrenched my arm from her hand. Mirela swayed backward and closed her eyes as she clutched her head. Her eyes flitted open and revealed their usual dark color.

  "You have. . .an unusually powerful spirit around you," she commented.

  "And I think you might be a little too full of spirits," I returned as I slid off my stool. "Listen, it was really nice of you to put on that show for me, but I think this is wasting my time. I'll just go consult a Magic Eight ball and-"

  Mirela stood so fast her stool clattered backwards onto the floor. Her lips were pursed tightly together and her eyes were narrow as they looked down at me. "You dare mock me?"

  I pondered her question for a moment before I nodded. "Yep."

  "After what you have seen and become?" she challenged me.

  I crossed my arms and shrugged. "I've seen werewolves and ghosts, but I haven't seen enough proof to believe witches aren't old hags stirring their cauldrons in a kid's cartoon."

  She snapped her finger at the door. "Leave."

  I smiled and bowed my head. "Only too gladly."

  I hurried out the door and tripped over an old woman who sat on the steps. She wore a thick shawl on her shoulders and a hood over her head. A skirt covered all but the very bottom of her hairy legs. We tumbled together onto the ground and she rolled away from me.

  That's when her wig fell off. I picked up the long hairpiece and studied it for a moment before I looked at the old woman. She wasn't so old anymore, and definitely not a woman. In fact, the angry face of Officer Ambigo glared back at me.

  Shadows fell over us. I looked up into the furious faces of two dozen Amazonian witches.

  Mirela pushed her way to the front. "Pick them up." We were pulled to our feet and held by the women. Mirela stepped in front of Ambigo. "Why have you intruded on the sanctity of our encampment?"

  "It's official business," he replied.

  One of the women looked into a small bowl before she nodded at me. "He's after this woman and the male."

  Mirela whipped her head to me. "Why did you bring him here?"

  I snorted. "Why don't you consult your herbs? Or are they on their lunch break?"

  Her lips curled back in a snarl. She pointed at two trees at the edge of camp. "Tie them there and bring the male."

  We were shoved toward the trees. I glanced at Ambigo. "Mind telling me why you're trying to get me killed?"

  He glared back at me. "You weren't supposed to leave the town."

  "Quit talking!" one of our captors barked.

  We reached the trees where they pushed our backs against the trunks and pulled our arms behind us. Our hands were tied with thick ropes. Mirela and all of the encampment followed but for a half dozen. They came back from the car empty-handed.

  Mirela turned to them. "Where is the man?"

  The leader of the search party shook her head. "He's not in the car, and we can't seem to track him with our spells."

  Mirela frowned. "It must be because of the spirit inside him. Search the area with your eyes and be careful. He is one of the Cursed." They bowed their heads and hurried off. Mirela returned her attention to us, and especially to me. "You are a crafty one. You tricked my spells into believing you were here for advice." She marched up to me and grabbed my chin between her hands. "What was your real purpose in coming here?"

  I shrugged. "You tell me."

  Half a dozen women whipped out small clay bowls and smashed dried herbs in them. It was like watching a bake-off, but without the tasty treats at the end. The women frowned and glared at the bottom of their bowls.

  Mirela glanced over her shoulder at them. "Well?"

  One of them shook their head. "We can't see very clearly. The man is clouding over everything, but we do see she came about a spirit."

  Her grip on my chin tightened. "Look again!"

  I yanked my chin out of her grasp and glared at her. "I'm not here to wreck your lives!"

  A great cry of horses rang from the corral some thirty feet to my left. The beasts screamed and reared up. The general panic slammed some of the horses against the rickety wood that defined the corral. Poles clattered to the ground, and a few of the horses leapt over the hole and to freedom.

  Mirela pointed at the hole and the loose steeds. "The horses! Get the horses!"

  The gypsies dropped their bowls and ran for the horses. Others hurried into the corral to calm the rest.

  I stiffened when a pair of hands brushed over mine. "Don't yell," Orion's whispered voice warned me.

  "Where the hell have you been? Sightseeing?" I hissed as he sliced open the ropes.

  "They do have wonderful woods around here," he returned as he moved over to Ambigo.

  I pulled my hands in front of me and rubbed my wrists. "You had time enough to explore all of them."

  Ambigo glared at both of us as he was freed. "Be quiet or they'll-"

  "They're escaping!" a woman shrieked.

  The herd of Amazonian gypsies turned their ire on us. Several of them mounted their bare-back steeds and rushed through the hole in the fence.

  Orion grabbed Ambigo and my rams and
shoved us toward the car. "Run!"

  CHAPTER 8

  We raced to the vehicle with the gallop of horses' hooves ringing in our ears. I passed by one of the numerous campfires and my foot caught on one of the hearth rocks. My crash was spectacular as I fell and rolled across the wet ground. I stopped on my stomach and facing the car. Orion and Ambigo skidded to a stop and turned around.

  I lifted my head. The idiots made to move toward me. I glared at them and jabbed a finger at the car. "Get out of here!"

  Orion took a step toward me. "But-"

  "I'm still a woman and you're not, now get!" I snapped.

  A clack of hooves close to my head made me roll onto my back. One of the large steeds stood over me, and both horse and river glared down at me. The horse raised its hoof and slammed it at my head. I rolled left to dodge, then right to dodge the next step. It was like a dance of death with my life on the line.

  "Transform!" Orion yelled.

  I raised my hands and focused on the beast within. She came out, and she wasn't happy. Fur and claws sprouted from my lengthened fingers. I felt my clothes expand with my increased muscles and hair.

  The horse aimed a hoof at my head and slammed it downward. I grabbed the hoof and threw it right back at the steed. The horse whinnied and reared back, throwing its rider and its dignity. The beast turned braided tail and raced away.

  I climbed to my feet and looked around myself. My shoulders slumped. "You've got to be kidding me."

  Orion, Ambigo and I were all completely surrounded by witch gypsies, both on and off horses. I backed up until I joined my companions.

  "Got any other bright ideas?" I growled at Orion.

  He opened his mouth, but Ambigo beat him to the punch. "I do." Our strange companion stepped to the front of us and pulled out his badge. He flashed the shiny metal at the women. "By Apple Hollow Ordinance Number Fifty-Three, I demand a trial by combat."

  My mouth dropped to the ground. "A what?"

  Mirela moved to the front of the women pack and glared at him. "You invoke an old rule, man. Why should we listen to your demand?"

  I leaned toward Orion. "How old is this rule?"

  "Two centuries," he whispered.

  Ambigo tucked his badge back into his coat. "Because the ordinance hasn't been rescinded. If you disobey my request then you forfeit your chance at keeping us, and must let us go."