A shiver crawled down my spine at the memory. Another at the image of that Vorrak. Its milky gaze, those jagged teeth. I never wanted to go into a cave again.
I followed Xavier down a narrow street. He had shadowed us here moments ago, and we had found Jaxon waiting outside a rounded black door down a slender alley off the main street. No markings or signs were outside the shop, but I knew Dedra was there; Jaxon wouldn’t have left her alone.
Jaxon looked at me, and relief seemed to enter his eyes as we approached.
“Dedra?” Xavier asked hopefully, walking to his side at the door.
“Alive,” Jaxon seemed to breathe, and he turned, grabbed the bronzed handle of the door behind him, and swung it open.
Xavier placed his hand on the small of my back and led me through the door after Jaxon.
The space felt old and full of unseen magic. The entry space was large, its vaulted ceiling much higher than the building appeared to be from the outside. A broken wooden staircase branched off to our right, leading to a single newly polished door. It was the shade of deep mahogany, and an enormous silver lock hung from the front of it, chains stretching in an X across its surface. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I stared at it, and I knew whatever was inside was evil.
A long hallway stretched ahead of us, littered with various-shaped doors. Each a different color, and all had strange symbols carved onto its surface, like scratches on wood, messy and unclean.
Various trinkets hung from nails in place of each handle. A doll with sewn in buttons for eyes, a rabbit foot, chicken feet tied to a string, and the one at the far end of the hall had no trinkets. Only a large golden mirror attached to its front.
“What is this place?” I said, shivering at the eerie sight.
“She was the first healer I could find when I made it back,” Jaxon said. “She was just waiting for me on the street when we appeared back in the village.” Jaxon seemed to shiver. “Creepy, I know.”
“She is an Agur healer,” Xavier explained, and I turned to him in question.
“Agur healer? What is the difference?” I whispered.
“They are healers, but they are more spiritual. Rumors claim they can communicate with the dead.” His gaze darted around the house, lingering on the locked door at the top of the stairs. “They are also rumored to be oracles for the gods.”
At those words, I froze. Nausea coursed through me as quick visions the creature showed me flashed in my head.
Xavier's voice cut through my haze. “Are you okay?”
He and Jaxon exchanged anxious looks, both watching me carefully.
“You just went white as a ghost.”
“I'm fine,” I lied, trying to smile to cover up my fear, but Xavier didn’t look convinced.
Jaxon walked down the hall, stopping in front of an arched, green-colored door, and knocked. It swung open almost immediately, and silver hair flashed as Jaxon was pulled into the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
Xavier and I ran forward, but we didn’t dare touch the creepy doll hanging in place of the handle. Xavier started to pound on the door, and it swung open again. Wrinkled, withering hands reached toward us and pulled us in as Jaxon had been. The hand was skeleton-like, the gray skin sagging off the bone. As the hand pulled me forward, I swore I saw a flash of large blue eyes under silver hair.
We now stood in a large, spacious room. A large bed sat in the middle, surrounded by various tables that held various bloody and sharp instruments that I wished I hadn’t noticed.
Dedra’s strawberry blonde hair peeked out from the covers on the bed, and I lunged forward to go near her but was stopped by another withered hand on my shoulder.
My gaze locked with the witch’s, and I was shocked to see that her eyes were a vivid yellow instead of the blue I had expected. They looked almost exactly like Morgana’s, and I had to bite my tongue from reacting.
That was where the comparison ended. To be blunt, the woman was grotesque. Like her hand, the rest of her seemed to be withered gray skin on bone. Her silver hair fell over her face, obscuring most of it, and tumbled down to her waist. It was unkept and knotted, and I cringed away as her yellow crooked teeth shone through her hair at me. She wore a simple blackdress that went down to her ankles, and her back was hunched, making her appear animalistic.
“Warning next time, brother,” Xavier growled to my left.
“Where is the fun in that?” Jaxon smirked.
“How is she?” Xavier addressed the hunched woman before me, but she continued to hold my gaze, her yellow teeth still gleaming in the firelight as she smiled at me.
Xavier pulled me behind him and stepped in front of the old woman, who now seemed to register that he spoke.
“She will live,” she croaked, her voice just as frail as her body. It scratched like nails on stone, and I cringed at the sound. I realized my hand was in Xavier’s, and he squeezed it lightly in reassurance.
