The Witch And The Other One

A Fifth Caustrian Tale

 

         I had been trying to get my brain organized when I heard the thud. It was a body falling thud, I knew, because the last time I'd spent time in my subconscious doing the "adventure/quest" thing, I'd found out that only bodies make the "uhhh" sound when they fall. Most of the time, those bodies weren't able to stop themselves from making that sound, which meant they were pretty badly hurt, too. Christine!, I thought immediately, running to the door.

         I opened my door to the hallway and was surprised to find a battered and bruised woman halfway leaning against the wall with a glazed expression of pain on her elven face. Well, I'd been right on one count, I thought, leaning forward to peer closer at the woman. This was definitely someone in pain. I instantly recognized the face and the look on it. The look was the one fairies wore when someone or something had severely taxed their magic reserves. The face belonged to...

         "Naomi?" I said incredulously.

         She slid down the wall to the floor in response. Against my better judgment, I ran to her side and grabbed her shoulders. "What are you...doing...here?" I really wanted to be vicious and cruel to this fairy who had, less than a month ago, kidnapped my little sister, slashed my chin open with a poisoned dagger and then shot me with a crossbow with the intent to kill. Unfortunately, my first instinct is to help the needy, so I faltered a little in my harsh tone.

         It didn't help when she looked up at me, her eyes pained and distant, but vaguely showing recognition. "Help me...please," she croaked...then she fainted.

         Drat!, I thought. Did she have to ask me nicely?

         "Ro-binnnnnnnn!" I hollered.

 

 

         Naomi always woke up unlike anyone she knew--always very suddenly, without the general grogginess most had, and always with her hand on her gun. It was as if something dangerous startled her awake every morning.

         She leapt straight up this time and found herself staring right into Robin's surprised face...without her gun. She checked her back for the dagger the kept tucked in her belt and couldn't find it, either. She began to do a routine body cavity check for all the rest of her weapons and general defenses as if Robin weren't even in the room.

         "If you're looking for your weapons," said Robin, keeping her cool, as usual, "you might as well stop. You're not getting them back until you leave here, so lie down." Naomi gave her a glare and Robin ignored it, adding, "Disarming you is like disarming a small country in a military zone."

         "Talking to stuck-up fairies like you is like talking to dry toast," Naomi replied irritably. She swiftly, almost stealthily, cased the room she was in, and found it very familiar. "Where am I?" she asked sulkily.

         "Safe, if that's what you mean," Robin answered, pushing her back down. "That is, unless you continue to overexert yourself. Now lie down."

         "I mean, where am I?" Naomi demanded, shrugging Robin off her and continuing to sit up.

         "You're back where you started before you caused the whole of Caustria to fall into a memory void," Robin said sharply. "With Daina. How did you escape Christine's void?"

         Naomi avoided the question. Deals with demons were not things one casually chatted about with the enemy. "You can't keep me here," she said.

         "And I wouldn't want to," Robin said. "The way I see it, you'd be better off dying under a thornbush somewhere. Daina seems to believe otherwise, but your attitude should soon change that."

         "So why am I here, if she thinks I'm so wonderful?" Naomi demanded.

         "You tell me," Daina asked. She moved from her semi-hidden chair in the corner to stare hard at Naomi. In her hand was the gun Naomi felt so naked without. "Who staggered into whose hallway, wench?"

         "I wouldn't have ever..." Naomi began.

         "Well, you did and now you're going to pay for it!" Daina snapped, striding toward her. Naomi instinctively jumped back and grabbed the nearest sharp object she could find; a spoon. Daina looked at her, then shook her head. "Christ," she grumbled. "You can't possibly be for real." Daina turned for the door, adding, "Get her fixed up and outta here," just as Naomi flung the spoon toward her.

         "Daina!" Robin shouted, but the spoon past Daina and actually embedded itself into the wall by the door, tip first. Daina turned to look at Naomi, who was barely remaining conscious after her efforts.

         "Don't bet on it," she said steadily, then fainted again, leaving Daina staring at her in shock.

         "Oddly enough," Robin said, with a slight smirk, "I think you might find some use for her here, if you can live with her attitude."

         "Think again," muttered Daina, storming out.

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