For a second, she thought the witch was going to refuse her, his face settled with distaste, but then, rather slowly, he read:
“I, the witch who inks this document, owe one Favor to Gentry Greenbriar. I will perform this Favor to the utmost of my ability.”He finished the last word almost sarcastically before looking at her. “All done, what’ll you do now, stick me? You won’t be able to activate this, you know. A Favor can’t just be drafted up byanyone.”
She shrugged, content with being underestimated once again by an idiot with magic. The Favor was an ancient practice that made the witch unable to physically harm her in any manner, direct or indirect, until the Favor was cashed in. It’d taken a helluva lot of research to discern rumor from truth, and to arrive at a solution she was 80% confident in.
Getting to work, Gentry took out the bit of sharpened plastic she’d hidden in her mattress. She then slit the sharp side against the witch’s exposed collarbone after moving the chainmail andthen the collar of his shirt down. Once on the left. Once on the right. And then, finally, his neck. Blood bloomed in all areas as Gentry pressed each of the three papers against the wounds, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
Her victim reacted more to the papers than to the cuts, his eyebrows raising like it had never occurred to him that a witch could be indebted to multiple Favors. Gentry suppressed a chuckle.Witches. No imagination.Most folk tales only referenced one long-lost, mystical Favor that the hero found at the lowest point in his heroic journey. Then the all-powerful witch came swooping in to save the day. End of boring, inaccurate scene.
“Satisfied?” he asked. “Jack shit just happened. Now listen, I need to get out of here. I’m really sorry about the whole ‘trying to kill you’ thing. It wasn’t personal. Hell, wasn’t even really my choice but —” he cut himself off, shaking his head and looking the picture of misery, “I wouldn’t blame you for reporting me to the guards. But I won’t be the last witch after you. Powerful people want you dead. There’s a hit out for you on the dark web. I’ll guard this place for you for a couple days if you let me go. Give you time to figure something out.”
To Gentry’s surprise, he sounded sincere. But then she remembered those invisible tendrils he’d magicked around her neck. “How chivalrous of you,” she snorted, “but I don’t need more time to think. I’m the one who put the hit on the dark web in the first place and you” —she jabbed the chainmail on his chest—“are my ticket out of here.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Yeah, well I captured you, didn’t I?” She stood up, stretched, and tried to appear casual. “My name is Gentry. Yours?”
“Nuh-uh, I’m not that stupid.” The unnamed witch shook his head, his politeness still somehow intact despite all she’d doneto him so far. “On theveryoff chance that you’re crafting these Favors right, I’m not telling you my name.”
Part of her could respect that he’d finally found some common sense. But she’d had a contingency plan for this. Stalking around the dresser, she was pleased to see his leg close to the edge of the dresser. She wiggled her hand in.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing!” the witch protested, sounding simultaneously gruff and horrified.
Gentry found his pocket and tried not to blush.There it is.At least she hoped. She felt relief when she pulled a cell phone out.
It unlocked when she pointed it at his face. Then she got busy. A few messages from some dude named Samar… An evil smile crossed her face. “I accept your Favors, Kit, on the condition of your blood,” she said very formally.
At last, the Favors activated.
Or at least the magic litmus papers changed into a bright red from new magic whirling into them, and, when she tried poking a hole through them with her wire, they didn’t rip like they should’ve. Favors were indestructible unless someone purposely ripped them to claim them.
But then she looked down at her witch, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of the bloody stars carved into his skin. The marks looked raised and painful, one of them bleeding through his shirt. Blood dripped down his neck.
An evil grin split across Gentry’s face in elation. The ritual had worked. It had really, really worked.
“Yesss,” Gentry hissed as Kit cursed in a rough, guttural language she knew witches used for their spellwork. Triumphant, she was just about to dance over to the witch and brag,See not justanyonecan draft three Favors.But then a series of familiar staccato knocks on the door saved the witch from her arrogance. “Come in!” she called out, cheered by how things were falling together.
A pale Mykel shimmied in through the small amount the door was able to open, her hair mussed and cheeks flushed. She looked properly high, and jumped when she saw the witch pinned underneath the toppled dresser. “Holy cow, you actually did it.”
A tiny bit of annoyance flooded Gentry because they’d discussed this plan in great detail, but also… “I told you not to get high, Myk.” While the other girl’s generosity never failed to amaze her, her being altered made all of Gentry’s paranoia raise up to the forefront. She looked at the closed door suspiciously.
“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually catch one! God, did you… carve into him? That’s sick.” Mykel glanced down at the witch guiltily. “He looks like he’s in pain.”
“I am,” Kit confirmed from his spot on the floor.
Slightly annoyed by the guy’s nonchalance, Gentry pulled her roommate to the side and whispered. “Did you do it?” She cut straight to the point.
Mykel nodded empathically, causing her shaggy hair to fan about her face. “Yep, it was easy. He drank it right away because I know he’s a sucker for tea. Has packets all over his room. He was in a great mood when I told him it was chai”—she shook the small baggie she had clutched in her right hand so the white pills inside clinked—“see, he even coughed up more than usual for me. Although…” She shifted from foot to foot. “He wasn’t sleeping yet like you said he would. Kicked me out before I could make sure.”
Gentry’s body went cold instantly.Not possible.She’d ground up enough sleeping pills in that tea packet to tranquilize a small horse. Justin the mage had to be asleep. His shift would end in two hours and then the far more diligent Saphrine would take over. By then, they needed to be long gone. “Thank you for helping,” she told Mykel honestly, “I appreciate it. Even if I have no clue why you’re so helpful.”
“I want the room to myself and your gloomy butt is in the way of that,” her roommate responded with a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Now what’re you going to do about him?” She gestured to Gentry’s would-be killer, who watched them with shell-shocked gray eyes.
“We get that dresser off him so he and I can get out of here. He’s harmless now.”
“Harmless,” Mykel repeated, “that doesn’t sound right about any witch. How do you know that Favor nonsense isn’t just made up? Witches like to be confusing, you know.”
Confusing was an understatement. Witches were the reason Gentry couldn’t quite access her ‘true’ memories of the night her life had changed forever. All she had was her computer and a gut feeling to follow. “Beneath a million lies somewhere is the truth. Favors are real. I mean, texts dating back a thousand years reference them,” Gentry reassured both Mykel and herself.
