Page 36 of The Most Wanted Witch

Lead Hag looked at me, her chest rising and falling a few times before she said, “She was on our rolls. She was a citizen here, born and bred until she was twenty-two or so. Occupation was listed as a Whimsy witch over at the wish factory.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me? Any information on my father?”

“No and no. Now give me the potion.” She shot a hand out, and I held the potion up and out of her grasp.

“Was I born here? Was I on the rolls at any point?” I asked.

“No. She disappeared and that was it. If you’d been born here, we wouldn’t have been able to give you an immigration test. You would’ve been a born citizen.”

She spat out that last bit as if I’d proven myself the idiot she thought I was. How was I supposed to have known? It wasn’t like they had law books floating around. Actually, I should probably have checked into that. Maybe they did.

“I gave you your answers. Now give me the potion.” She moved closer.

Hawk stepped in front of me. “I have a question first. Do you know anything about Dread?”

The anger faded from her expression as she glanced about. “No, but I wish I did,” she said softly.

For once, it seemed we might be on the same side.

“Here. You can have it.” I held out the potion. It seemed fair. “If you have any further information, I can supply more.”

She gripped the potion in her hands tighter. “And I’ll get it whenever I want?”

I nodded. “As long as you’re offering me some information of value, so I’d hurry if I were you.”

She hated me, but she’d be back if she found something else. That I was sure of.

She left, and I had more questions than before. Nothing was adding up.

I turned and headed back toward the shop with nothing but questions and a man I didn’t want to ask anything of.

“You’re going to eventually ask, so you might as well do it now,” Hawk said.

For the record, he was ignoring me as well. I might have started it if you wanted to get technical about it, but he didn’t deserve conversation. He was an active participant in the silence, and that counted for something.

He was also correct. I was going to break down and ask him anyway. It made it all so much worse to have to prove him right, but I’d dwell on that later.

“I thought that magic was typically inherited, like it was somewhat genetic and you fell in line with your parents to some degree. How would it be possible for a Whimsy witch to give birth to…” To what? A magical freak of nature? The only witch in Xest that Dread was afraid of? “How did she give birth to me?”

“You mean to a Maker? There’s no reason to pretend you’re anything less, and you might be more,” Hawk said, watching me with those intense eyes that were impossible to hide from.

Maker. There it was. I’d learned enough to have suspected it was the case. I’d feared it was the truth. I wouldn’t even think about the “more.”

Why did that label scare me more than Whimsy had? I’d been so comfortable being seen as less than. Now that I was on the top of the magical heap, I couldn’t get the word out, hated that he’d said it, as if speaking it made it true. It felt like a line of demarcation, that there’d be no going back from it.

I shouldn’t have asked him. When would I ever learn?

“Why does that bother you so much?” he asked. “Why is being important and worthy so terrifying to you?”

“Am I supposed to pay you by the minute or by session?” I asked, and then turned and walked away, in case he somehow mistook that for an actual question.

“Getting a little testy. Must’ve struck a nerve.”

“I’ll strike a jaw if you don’t shut up.”

He laughed. “Message delivered. You aren’t ready to delve into your inner demons quite yet.”

“You care to share your demons? Like why I’ve never seen you hold the gem? What are you hiding?”

---