Page 2 of Destiny of the Witch

Liyana pressed her lips together but nodded sharply. ‘Fine.’

She pulled out a crystal ball and a white bone dish, then poured a little of the first vial into the receptacle and gazed into the depths of the crystal. A moment later she blinked, cleaned the white dish and began again. She did it twice more until all four potions had been tested.

I knew in my gut which one would work.

‘This one.’ She pointed to the potion that held the claw clippings, hair and blood. I knew it – Indy had known what she was doing. Young as she was, she was already very smart. The potion needed more than a single ingredient from the hellhound to work. All three were needed to unlock the portal to the Third realm.

Liyana continued, ‘All of the potions are safe for consumption, but this is the only one that will have the effect you seek.’

‘Thank you.’ I pocketed the correct vial and shoved the three remaining ones into my tote. You can’t trust anyone other than a witch to do a proper potion disposal.

Liyana cleared her throat a little. ‘Crone.’

‘Yes?’

‘It won’t work,’ she warned softly.

‘What?’

‘The potion. It won’t work for your mother.’

‘You just said—’

‘I said that the potion will work to cure temporal displacement.’

‘That’s what I need.’

‘Is it?’ she asked pointedly.

‘Yes,’ I said firmly. ‘So thank you.’ My tone wasn’t oozing gratitude.

‘Thank you for finding Melva’s killer so quickly,’ Liyana stated.

‘You’re welcome. While you’re feeling grateful, I have another favour to ask.’ I might as well strike while the iron was hot.

‘Another?’ She arched an elegant eyebrow.

I ignored that. ‘The enchanted cloaks you supply—’

She held up her hand to stop me. ‘There are no records,’ she said firmly. ‘None. It is not the case that Ican’torwon’tgive them to you, but that they simply don’t exist. There have been times in our history where we have been hounded for proof that X bought Y. These days we simply don’t keep records so we have nothingto give, not an email address, a telephone number – nothing.’

‘That seems imprudent.’

‘Not at all,’ Liyana replied. ‘If we don’t hold information, we can’t be forced to part with it. All of our transactions are anonymous. The seer that made Bastion’s cloak for your little excursion didn’t know for whom she was making it. They never do.’

I refused to give up; there had to besomesort of trail we could follow. ‘So how are orders placed?’

‘Commercial ones are made through this office. Requests and payment are sent by post.’ Before I could ask for any postmarks stamped on the envelopes, she stopped me. ‘All the envelopes are destroyed after payment is verified.’

Sometimes the seers were more than a little annoying. ‘You must have an address, to send the cloak,’ I argued.

‘Once payment is verified, the cloak is sent to one of our many safety deposit boxes. Before the initial request is destroyed, we send a communication to the address it came from confirming the box’s location and giving a pin code to access it. When we’ve sent that, we destroy the request together with anything related to it, including which safety deposit box was used for delivery. We work through the safetyboxes on a rolling schedule. The system guarantees anonymity. Deliberately so.’

‘You’re aiding evil witches.’

She shrugged. ‘The perception of evil varies depending on which side you’re on.’

‘You’re wrong. Torturing people –killingpeople – for magical gain is always evil,’ I argued.

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