The Alchemist's Lair: Part 5

The next morning, Annabel organized a meeting of all the Treasure Hunters’ members, plus Sergeant Nixon. Gandor, however, informed us that his master was feeling unwell after a night of binge drinking and will be unable to attend. He then excused himself and left to care for Rhombus.

“Pathetic”, sneered Nixon. “Kids these days. Back when I was in the military academy, I could drink twice as much and still do the cavalry drills in the morning”.

“Thankfully”, said Civet, “we can probably handle the current situation without them. We spoke to witnesses, got the locations of seven different apparition sightings with varying degrees of accuracy, and visited them to see if there was any pattern to the locations. Unfortunately, we found none”.

“I did find traces of magical energy at all the locations, but I’m not sure if they are the cause or the effect”, added Annabel. “I tried conducting a divination ritual based on the information we have, but my skill wasn’t enough. So, we’ll contact a local witch and, hopefully, with her help, we’ll be able to predict where the apparition will show up in the future. If it fails, it’s back to gathering data, or we might even organize night patrols and rely on blind luck”.

“I don’t understand”, I wondered, “why do you need all that information to look into the future?”

Annabel’s eyes lit up at the chance to explain magic theory. “Contrary to common misconceptions, divination does not include looking into the future, or gathering any information that couldn’t, theoretically, be gathered via normal means. For instance, when I was divining the dimensions of that baukh cave, a team of experts with advanced tools might be able to tell you the same things I did by analyzing things like drafts or echoes. Divination, however, allows the wizard to bypass the need for tools and knowledge by magically honing his own intuition to pick out details he wouldn’t be able to otherwise. So-called fortune-telling is dependent on the fact that everything in the world behaves according to laws and principles, and skips the laborious process of analysis to intuitively grasp the most likely outcome. In this particular case, as I am not familiar with the area, I need the assistance of a local witch who has the information I lack that prevents me from reaching any conclusions”.

Iocasta took an opportunity when Annabel was taking a breath and quickly interjected.

“Cleo is the most famous witch ‘round these parts. Also, the most infamous – her love potions are notoriously effective. In any case, she’s fairly reliable provided we pay her well. She lives on the outskirts of Ovcha, so it’s a two-day trip altogether. Apparently, she’s still alive and kicking – I had to check, she was already ancient when I was a kid”.

The party selected to visit the old witch consisted of the research trio plus me. According to Iocasta, there was no serious danger in this area of the mountains, and a smaller party made it easier to find lodging in one of the peasants’ houses, avoiding having to camp in the open.

As Iocasta fortold, the journey was uneventful. The mountain villages were fairly scattered, often with large chunks of wilderness between houses, so it was hard to tell where one village ended and another began. We spent the night at a farmer’s house in Ovcha and went to see the witch first thing in the morning.

In front of her hut, we ran into a bald man banging angrily at the door.

“Get out, you damned witch, so I can kill you! You cursed me! You made my hair fall out! Remove the curse this instant, you hear me!?”

I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me? Could you come back later? We have some business with the lady”.

He seemed shocked at my audacity.

“But my hair! My beautiful hair!”

“It won’t grow back in a day, even if she removes a curse. Pretty please? We won’t be long”.

“She’ll trick you! You can’t trust her a single bit!”

“Well, if she tricks me, I’ll be here banging the door with you first thing tomorrow morning”.

This approach strangely seemed to calm him down, so he turned away and left, a look of confusion on his face.

“Nice job”, said Iocasta, “but what if he returns tomorrow?”

“If she’s been at it for as long as you say, she knows how to deal with these situations”.

“True enough”, she conceded and knocked on the door.

“Madam Cleo! Can we come in? We wish to ask you something?”

In lieu of an answer, the door to the hut opened slightly. We walked into a dimly lit room. It was decorated with various witchcraft-related paraphernalia, some of it, I suspected, having no practical purpose but to make the place look more occult. The room was filled with smoke, coming mostly from a pipe used by a rotund old woman – evidently, Madam Cleo – sitting in a rocking chair in the corner.

“What do you want?” she asked.

Annabel took over and explained what we needed help with. “Aye, I could do that”, said the witch. “As for the price...”, she pointed at me, “I will take a few drops of that one’s blood”.

A shiver went down my spine. “We’d rather pay in gold”, I said.

The witch cackled. “Oh, don’t worry, I have no reason to hurt you. Your blood is strange and strong, young man. One such as myself can find uses for it”. She handed me a knife and a small bowl.

I glanced at Iocasta nervously. She shrugged. “If she hexed strangers for no reason, someone would have burned her at the stake by now. I understand your discomfort, but I don’t think you’re in danger”.

Since the witch wouldn’t accept a counteroffer, I made a slight cut in my forearm and let my blood drip into the bowl. “Thank you”, said Cleo, taking the bowl. “Believe me, this is worth much more to me than to you”, she added reassuringly. I wasn’t feeling particularly reassured.

Payment was taken care of, and the ritual could commence. The witch and the sorceress sat across from each other. Civet laid out a map between them and explained the sighting locations in detail. Then the two of them started chanting. Someone more in tune with sorcery than I could probably feel the magical energy flow between them. Soon enough, they opened their eyes in unison and pointed at several spots on the map. “Three days! Twenty-one days! Forty-seven days!” Civet quickly marked the spots, and the two women broke out of the trance.

As we were leaving, I asked, “Did you really put a curse on that man?”

“Who knows? Maybe I did. I probably didn’t. My mind ain’t what it used to be. Can’t remember every detail. If I did, he probably deserved it”.

With this unpleasant business concluded, we returned to our camp in Kotezh and reported our findings. On the closest designated night, we were freezing at the location where the apparition was supposed to show up. Balthazar was with us too, as it was finally time for him to fulfill his role in the expedition.

It was a clear night, and the asteroid belt could be clearly seen in the sky. We were spread out, trying to cover as much area as possible. Around one in the morning, someone shouted “Ghost!”, and everyone rushed towards the location. Thankfully, Balthazar was close enough, and by the time I arrived, he was busy taking notes under lantern light. The apparition was translucent, wearing a white coat, and emitted a faint glow. The figure seemed to be arguing with some unseen entity. Eventually, it started gasping for air, collapsed on the floor, and disappeared.

“I am proud to say I wrote down everything”, said Balthazar. “I’ll translate it first thing tomorrow morning”.