8 Gone is the Witch (9 page)

“No. W
ait. I have something to trade for it.”

“
And just what might that be?” he asked, leaning against the cart, his death-breath washing over me like a wave. I stepped back to get away from the disgusting smell, and gave Ursula a nod.

“T
is this we bring,” she said, presenting the shell from a distance. Smart girl.

“A snail’s shell
?” the merchant laughed. “You’re joking. They’re as common as moss mites around these parts. What am I to do with that?”

“Oh, but `tis a special shell
, this one. Bewitched to make one wealthy beyond dreams.”

“Bewitch
ed?”

“Aye, we be witches, she and I.”

He regarded us with suspicion, perhaps only half believing, but half was enough. He softened his posture and lowered his guard. “Tell me more.”

I took the shell from Ursula and held it out for his inspection. “It contains a spell like none
other.” He reached for it. I pulled it back. “Uh-uh. Not so fast.”

He
stiffened up again. We were losing his trust. Plowface seemed more receptive, though. He lumbered over for a closer look. I lowered the shell down to his level.

“You see, I put a spell in
side this shell, which allows anyone to get anything they want, just for the asking.”

“`Tis no lie,” said Ursula
. “Anything.”

“I don’t believe it,” said the taller man. “If that were true, you would have everything you want
already, even all of this.” He gestured at his cart full of wares.

“If I wanted it, yes,” I said. “But I don’t want it all. I want only that bayonet and your robes.”

“Our robes? Why our robes?”

“I
t’s a fashion statement. What do you think?”

“You can’t have them.”

“No. Wait. Hear her out,” said the other. “Show us how it works.”

I looked at Ursula and shared
a knowing grin. “Okay then.” I got down on one knee. “I’ll show you, but you’ll have to come in close so you don’t miss it.”

The two closed ranks around the shell, and when they did, their combined stench
nearly knocked me out. If not for Ursula rocking me back up with a nudge, I might have hit the ground unconscious.

“Pay attention,” I said, after regaining my composure. “It’s a subtle thing. You don’t want to miss it.”

I rolled the shell over, exposing the opening to the two merchants. I waited for the familiar wisp of air telling me I had released the spell, but saw no such indication. I looked up at Ursula. She could see my worry. The whisper spell wasn’t working.

“I don’t see anything,” complained the
smaller man. “What am I supposed to see?”

“Is this a joke?” asked the other.

Ursula leaned over and whispered. “Shake it.”

I looked
up at her again. “What?”

She held an imaginary shell in her hands and shook it violently. “Shake thee it.”

I rolled the shell over, shook the hell out of it, rolled it back and then shook it some more. At last, out came a belch of air so strong it parted the little fucker’s greasy hair right down the middle.

I stood and handed the shell back to Ursula. “Well?” I said to
deathbreath.

“Well what? It didn’t work.”

“Oh, it worked all right. Now, how `bout you give me the bayonet.”

He looked at me queerly, shook his head
, and then handed me the bayonet.

“
The bolo too.”

He handed
it to me with no hesitation. “Perhaps you have something else you’d like to trade instead?” he asked.

“No, that’s it. Just the shell.
Give me your robe.”

He took off his robe and handed it to me.
“If you haven’t got anything else then I guess we can’t do business.”

“
Yeah, I guess not.” I pointed to shorty. “You too, dipstick.” I put my hand out. “Give me your robe.”

The pint-sized peddler removed his robe and handed it to me.

“The belts and sheaths, too. Both of you.” I pointed at a burlap sack stashed in the corner of the cart. “What’s in there?”

“Moccasin
s,” they both echoed.

“Ooh, jackpot! All right, hand it over.” I turned to Ursula, “We need anything else?”

“Aye, some difermium pellets
may serve us well.”

“
Yeah, good thinking.” I put my hand out. “Okay. You heard the lady. Give it up. I want all your difermium pellets.” The two surrendered their money pouches, though together they had less than a dozen pellets. “Slow day, eh?” The little one shrugged. I dumped two of the pellets into my hand and gave them each one. “Thanks fellers. It’s been nice doing business with you.”

As we started away,
the little one hollered back, “Hey, didn’t you forget something?”

I stopped Ursula, took the shell from her,
and went back to give it to the little wheezier. After all, I do have some scruples.

Chapter Five

We
caught up with Carlos and Tony a few streets away. They were leaning against the side of an adobe brick building and looking positively spent.

“Hey, what’s
up with you two,” I asked. “Why are just you sitting there?”

“Because it’s hot,” Carlos answered.
“It’s got to be a hundred degrees out here.”

“
Sure, in the sun. What do you expect?”

Tony gave me a look as if I
had just stepped off the crazy bus. “It’s night time, Lilith. In case you haven’t noticed, there is no sun.”

“
Yes there is. In fact, both suns are nearly at one o’clock high. You ought to be in the shade. It’s fifteen degrees cooler there.”

“Shade?” Carlos
took in the endless night. “I don’t see any shade.”

“Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it ain’t there. Scoot your butts around the corner. You’ll see.
”

They did, and both
immediately felt the welcome relief of cool black shade on their burning skin. “You’re right,” said Tony. “That’s amazing. I feel the difference.”

“Great. Now here.
” I tossed them the robes. “Put these on.”

Carlos took one look at his robe and pitched it.
“I’m not putting that on. It’ll make me look like a sissy.”

“
Okay then, walk around in your Speedos.”

He reconsidered, picked the robe up and slipped it over his head. It barely raked past his nose when he peeled it off again. “Geez! It smells like dog. Where did you find this thing?”

“At the pound.
Where do you think?”

“I
’m sorry. I can’t wear it.”

“Fine
, like I said, we’ll just call you Captain Speedo.”

He soured his face and pull
ed the robe over his head a final time. I held the burlap sack by the bottom corners and dumped a half dozen pair of moccasins onto the ground. “I have these, too. One size fits all. I hope. Now hurry. Dr. Lowell’s trail is getting colder by the minute.”

“
So, where do we start?” asked Tony, fidgeting with his robe to figure out where the arms go.

I handed the bolo to Carlos and waited for Tony to free his arm
s before giving him the bayonet. “We need to learn more about this place. Rub elbows with the locals. Ask questions. Find out what we can about Dr. Lowell.”

“
Where do you suggest we start?”

“Where else
?” I pointed across the street. “The local pub, where everyone knows your name.”

“
Wait a sec.” Carlos shredded the hood off his robe and pitched it into the gutter. “Okay.”

“Why`d you do that?” I asked.

“Too greasy.”

“Oh. You good now?”

“I`m good.”

“`Kay. Let’s go check it out.”

A tattered tin sign hanging out front of a two-story wooden structure creaked on rusty hooks as it swayed in a nonexistent breeze. Hell’s Tavern.

We walked
in through saloon styled doors onto sawdust-covered floorboards. The bar sat opposite, stretched along a mirrored wall. A half-dozen tables filled the room, each with a single kerosene lamp and four chairs spaced equally around them. Except for a few stragglers at one table and a couple of cowboy types sitting at the end of the bar, the place appeared deserted.

Carlos, having walked in ahead of us, held the procession
up just inside the doorway. “Looks like something out of the old west,” he muttered.

“
Anything wrong?” Tony asked.

He shook
his head. “Just a feeling. This place ain’t right.”

“This place is electric,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird.
This room is a hotbed of energy. I can feel it.”

“Aye,” said Ursula. “`Tis a strong
force indeed.”

Carlos suggested we not enter. “It’ll serve us no purpose
.”

“
Maybe not, but it’ll serve us drinks.” I pushed past him and bellied up to the bar. “Barkeep.” I love saying that. “Barkeep, give me a beer.”

A burly-looking tree stump of a man came
over and wiped the bar down in front of us. “Name’s Tiny,” he said. “Not barkeep.”

“Okay, Tiny. I’ll have a beer.”

“Beer?” I could hear the amusement in his voice. “We don’t serve beer here.”

“Y
ou don’t?” I supposed he could hear the surprise in mine. “Why not? It’s a bar, ain’t it?”

“
Sure.”

“Well?”

“Well,” he said sarcastically, “we don’t serve beer because there ain’t no hops or barley to make beer. No hops, barley, grain, yeast or any other of them things that go into beer. And because you’re all new here, I’ll tell you something else.”

“
What?”

“There ain’t nothing anywhere resembling food or food
stuff on this entire sphere. You want to know why?”

“I do,” said Carlos
.

Tiny
gave him a stern look, but gave it up after deciding Carlos meant it. “Because no one ever eats or drinks. That’s why. Don’t need no farms growing no food if no one’s gonna eat it.”

“But you run a bar,” I said. “Sur
ely you must serve something.”

“I do.”

“What?”

He
cracked his lips and hatched a crooked smile. “Ain’t but two things worth serving round here. Gunji and punjab.”

Carlos laughed. “Sounds like
a couple of Bollywood movie stars.”

“You mean Hollywood,
don’t you?”

“No
. Bollywood. It’s the Indian version of Hollywood.”

“
Indian? Like Tonto?”

“No like…. Say, how long have you been dead?”

“Dead? I ain’t––”

“Gunji!” I said. “What
’s that?”

T
iny stole a glimpse over his shoulder, perhaps making sure no one was playing a practical joke on him. “Man, you are new. Did you just drop in this afternoon?”

“Yes,” Tony
answered. “We did. So if you wouldn’t mind, humor us.”

He
reached below the bar and produced a bottle filled with a putrid-looking slime the color of algae. “This,” he said, “is gunji, nectar of the Gods.”

“Looks awful,” said Carlos.

“Disgusting,” Tony hissed.

“
Vile,” I said. “I’ll have some.”

“
As will I,” said Ursula, pinching the sides of her neck. “Parched be my throat as the desert sands.”

“Oh, what the hell,” said Carlos. “
Pour me some, too. How bad can it be?”

Tiny filled three glasses and slid them over. He set a fourth
glass down in front of Tony and laid a narrow bead on him. “Mister?”

“Fine
. Fill`er up.”

We waited until
he topped off the last glass before lifting our drinks and clanging them together over the bar. “A toast,” Tony proposed, “to finding Leona and returning her home safely.”

“Hear, hear
,” Carlos echoed. “To finding Leona.”

Ursula
said, “Find thee thy friend and return her safely.”

I couldn’t resist. “To the Guatemalan darlin`.”

Tony thought of correcting me, but then dismissed it with the headshake. We tossed our drinks back and belted them down, slamming the glasses on the bar in unison when finished.