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“What’s that?” he asks, gesturing at the pot of herbs with the bottle before unscrewing the cap.
The man seems to have a problem with my presence. It’s not like I care, since he’s not directly relevant to my mission. However, I hope he doesn’t get in my way. I don’t want to contend with antagonism when I already have my work cut out for me as it is.
“Seer’s medication,” I replied quietly.
“What’s in it?”
His tone is quite rude, but I don’t point it out—it’s probably intentional. It’s like he’s trying to get a reaction out of me. I rarely bother trying to figure out other people’s intentions, but I wish I knew what Hex wanted from me. Maybe he’d let me be if I gave it to him.
I turn off the heat and open the pot. Closing my eyes, I inhale the soothing scent of herbs that fills the kitchen.Just perfect!
I turn to face Hex, who is watching my every move with hawk-like precision, his eyes hooded with brazen suspicion. “I’m not going to poison him, you know?” I breathe. “If I told you the ingredients in here, you wouldn’t even know them.”
“You’re not the only healer around here,” Hex says gruffly. “I have basic knowledge of hoodoo. If you’re going to be using your voodoo on my brother, I should at least know what’s going into the preparation, don’t you think?”
Despite Hex’s brash approach, I understand his concerns. He’s only trying to look out for Seer, albeit immaturely. “So, this is basically a mixture of sage herb, a bit of guarana, some rosemary herb, ginseng, and a revitalizing blend. Hopefully, the mixture will help replenish his lost energy.”
Hex doesn’t look convinced, but also doesn’t seem inclined to disagree with me. “I hope to God you know what you’re doing, Miss Cromwell. If any harm comes to Seer, I swear I’ll make you pay. I’ll have a thousand ghosts haunt you and make your life a living hell.”
He throws the empty bottle into the can and walks out of the kitchen as abruptly as he has come in. I watch him go, suppressing the surprised chuckle that bubbles in my throat. Not much amuses me, but Hex has drawn a smile from me. He’s an intriguing man.
Ghosts, really?That’s the best he could come up with?
* * *
Victoria Cromwell seems like she’s been doing this all her life. She has an expert’s touch as she spoon-feeds Seer the concoction so whipped up, gently dabbing off the spills by the side of his mouth. She hasn’t been around for even a whole day, but somehow, her presence has eased the anxiety I’ve felt since Seer’s accident. At least now, I don’t feel so useless sitting around waiting for a miracle to happen.
“Your ways are different from Mama’s.” I keep my voice leveled, so she knows it’s an observation, not an accusation. I know very well how voodoo works. Each person has their own path.
Tory gently sets the cup on the bedside table and turns her attention to me. I wonder if she’s just being meticulous or can’t give her attention to multiple things at once.
“I’m not a shaman, not like Mama,” she says, her lips curving upward in a small smile. “I’m a healer. I work mostly with herbs and roots. I’m not nearly as good as Mama with magical spells, but I try. I can take on people’s sicknesses too, but not at will.”
“How does that work?” I ask, genuinely fascinated.
Tory seems to think about the question for a few seconds, probably fishing for the best explanation.
“I don’t get to choose where or on who I want to use that power. For instance, I could brush past a stranger and take on their illness without them noticing. But I may not be able to take on the sickness of someone close to me, even if I try. It’s complicated, but that’s the summary. And it can be frustrating.”
“I think I understand,” I say with a small nod. “That day with Seer… was it a coincidence?”
“Yes. He practically walked into me, and I grabbed onto his shoulders to steady myself.” Tory glances at Seer and shakes her head solemnly. “If only he’d let me help then. There’s not much these herbs can do now.”
I sit up with a frown. “What does that mean?”
Tory raises her deep brown eyes to mine. “His condition is terrible. He’s being attacked with dark sorcery, and whatever spell the enemy cast is feeding on his core energy. Soon it will feed on his soul. We have to stop that at all costs.”
“Motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath, running a hand through my hair. “Well, then do something, Tory. Mama sent you here to save him, right? Cast a spell, call the gods… Fucking do something!”
Tory shakes her head. “I can’t… I can’t treat him if I don’t know the source of the spell used to attack him. Even doctors need to know what illness is affecting a patient before they can effectively treat it.” She presses her lips together and lowers her lids. When she raised her eyes again, their depths showed a slight hesitation. “There might be a way. I can try to reach his soul. Seer might know the person blocking his magic.”
Hope flares in my soul once more. “Can you really do that?”
“I can try.”
* * *
Salt. Water. Light.
