How to Stop a Witch (19 page)

“’Course, if you was planning on headin’ up that way, you’d have plenty to worry about,” said her husband Sean. “Like about a hundred organ hunters on any given day. Good spot for ’em, you understand, what with the pass being the only route to the east. Why go out to hunt when you can just hang around in one spot and let your prey come to you?”

“Prey?” said Greg.

Erin laughed teasingly. “Organ hunters don’t scare me as much as all those creepy insurance agents.” She witnessed their worried expressions and adopted a similar one herself. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to get through that pass,” Greg told her.

Erin’s mouth dropped open. “What on Myrth for?”

“We want to get to New Haven.”

“Where?”

“They say it’s five miles north of Old Haven,” Priscilla told her.

Sean offered a skeptical look. He swallowed a large spoonful of gruel. “And what business do you have in this . . . New Haven, then?”

“We’re trying to find a man named Dolzowt Deth,” Priscilla answered.

Sean’s gruel sprayed all over the table. Erin gasped, nearly taking out her one good eye with her spoon when she raised a hand to cover her mouth.

“Who?” Sean asked.

“Dolzowt Deth,” Priscilla repeated, and both spoons hit the table.

“Why on Myrth would you want to look for a man like that?” Erin asked, her voice trembling between two octaves.

“We think he’s got our friend,” said Greg.

If Erin hadn’t already dropped her spoon, she’d have surely dropped it now. “If so, then it’s too late for your friend.”

“Yes, Dolzowt is not particularly kind to his prisoners,” Sean told them. “At least that’s what they say. I don’t know that any have ever lived to tell the tale.”

“Nathan’s different,” said Kristin. “He can do magic.”

Sean’s eyes grew wide. He retrieved his spoon and thrust it out before him for protection, though Greg could tell he held little confidence it would do the job. “You consort with sorcerers?”

“No, Nathan’s not a sorcerer,” Priscilla said. “He’s a magician.”

“Sorcerer? Magician? A robe by any other name.”

“That’s rose,” Kristin corrected.

“
Who’s
Rose?” asked Erin.

“Wait,” said Sean, “I thought you said you were going to some New Haven place. Dolzowt Deth lives on Deth’s End, a small island off the east coast about five miles north of . . . oh.”

“You mustn’t go there,” Erin warned. “You’ll die if you do.”

And if I don’t
, Greg thought to himself, but he thanked her for her concern and assured her they had no choice.

She spoke very little to them after that. Probably didn’t want to get too attached to anyone who was sure to be dead before the day was up.

“Uh, one other thing,” said Greg.

Erin looked at him reluctantly, as if she really had no choice.

“You wouldn’t know where we could find Tehrer, would you?”

Erin didn’t answer, but Greg could tell from her expression that the thought of finding Tehrer was not one she entertained often.

“Nathan will know,” said Priscilla.

“All the more reason we need to find him,” said Greg. He finished his gruel about the same time as the others and thanked the strangers for their kindness.

“You’re sure you don’t want to go to Edmonton?” Erin asked as they were preparing to leave. “Aside from this one nasty man who guards the bridge down that way, it’s quite lovely this time of year.”

“No, we really need to get to New Haven,” answered Greg.

It wasn’t hard to read the concern on her face. “Oh . . . well, suit yourselves then. I’d say we’ll be seeing you, but . . . well, my momma taught me not to lie.”

“Look,” said Lucky.
They were no more than a hundred yards from the cut through the mountain, the tall rock formations that gave Dragon Horns Pass its name looming too high overhead to recognize from this angle.

Greg looked into the gap where Lucky was pointing. More than two dozen men camped at the edge of the gap, barring the way to travelers, and that was just those they could see. Who knew how many more were camped within the gap, or on the other side?

“We can’t go through there,” said Kristin. Greg was glad he brought her along. For once he didn’t feel like the only one capable of seeing the obvious.

“We have to,” said Lucky, “if we don’t find Nathan and the amulet before whatever happens to him happens, we’re never leaving this place.”

“Maybe we can go around,” suggested Priscilla.

“I don’t think so,” Greg said. “Usually a mountain pass is called a pass because it’s the only way through. We don’t have time to look for a different route that may not even exist.”

Earlier Kristin had helped Priscilla neatly trim a few locks of hair that they could use for payment, but Greg worried what sort of riot they might incite if they were to show such a treasure to anyone in this world.

From within the pack on Greg’s shoulders came a warning growl.

“Shh,” said Melvin. “Did you hear something?”

“Yeah,” said Greg. “Rake.”

A head appeared in the field directly between them and the pass. When the head quickly grew into a head and shoulders and then into a full-sized man, dressed in a crumpled suit and carrying a briefcase, Greg realized the ground dipped ahead, and the insurance agent was hurrying toward them.

He was not alone, either. Several more heads appeared, and soon a half dozen insurance agents were rushing straight toward them. Greg was reminded of a time when his dad had taken him car shopping. The salesmen had swarmed on them there, too, and the experience had been no less terrifying.

“Insurance agents,” said Priscilla.

Greg nodded. “Be careful,” he told her, and then stepped forward to meet the first of the men halfway.

The salesman manufactured a grin. “Morning, sir. Might I ask how you’re set on insurance?” The other salesmen stopped and watched uneasily, much the way the car salesmen had done back home.

“I need someone to take me and my friends through Dragon Horns Pass,” Greg told him.

The salesman glanced at the group. He took particular interest in the two girls and grinned even wider.

“Well now, I think we can help you. But Dragon Horns Pass is a dangerous place. I’m afraid it could get quite expensive.”

“We can pay,” said Greg, feeling guilty over preparing to bargain with Priscilla’s hair.

The salesman stared at Kristin, his teeth flashing brightly. “I’ll bet you can.”

Greg didn’t care for the man’s expression, but there was no way they were getting through the pass ahead without his help.

“I’ll be needing payment up front, of course,” the man told him.

“No,” Greg told him. “We’ll pay once we’re standing safely on the other side.”

The salesman’s expression turned less cordial. “That’s not how it works.”

Priscilla stepped forward. “Fine. We’ll give you part now and the rest when we reach the other side. Take it or leave it.”

The man stared at her a long moment. “I’ll take it.”

Greg removed his pack and fought to keep Rake from escaping as he withdrew a few neatly trimmed strands of Priscilla’s hair. “Here,” he said, handing over the treasure. “There’s a full lock for you once we’re safely on the other side. That should more than cover it.”

The man’s eyes nearly sprang from his head. He took the strands and examined them closely, smiled and turned back to his associates. “Seize them.”

Walking sticks and briefcases started swinging everywhere. Then several of the insurance agents opened their briefcases and produced knifes and hatchets. Suddenly Greg’s walking stick felt very small in his hand.

He had defeated much worse opponents than these on Myrth, but again he worried for the others. As if to validate his concern, one of the salesmen grabbed Kristin around the neck. She thrashed around violently until she slipped free, then broke away from the group and sprinted through the field ahead.

“Run,” Greg called out, and he, Melvin, Priscilla and Lucky tore off after her, a dozen insurance agents in close pursuit.

It was only then Greg realized they were running toward the heavily guarded pass.

“Wait,” he shouted, but even he knew they dare not stop. Little did it matter, because just then the men guarding the pass spotted the charge and jumped to their feet. Within seconds, dozens of men were charging toward them from both sides.

“We’re going to have to fight,” he warned as the distance closed between those charging from the pass.

But then the oddest thing happened. The first of the men from the pass reached them and ran straight past Greg to tackle one of the pursuing salesmen. Others from the pass reached them as well but did not stop. They, too, sought out the salesmen and took up the battle behind.

“They’re making sure we can’t be protected,” Greg realized, but before he could do more, one of the men from the pass grabbed him and pulled him to the ground.

Greg struggled to break free as Kristin had done, but the man’s grip was too strong. His face buried in the deep grass of the field, Greg could hear fighting, but he couldn’t see a bit of it. Then finally the day turned silent. The man’s grip relaxed, and Greg scrambled to his feet. They were completely surrounded by rough-looking men, not a single briefcase in sight.

“What are you going to do with us?” Greg asked.

“Yeah,” cried Melvin. “I’m too young to lose my kidneys.”

“Lose your kidneys?” said one of the men. “You think we’re here to hurt you? Why would we do that after we just saved you from all these dang insurance agents?”

“Saved us?” said Greg.

“Well, sure.” The man motioned at the surroundings, where a dozen insurance salesmen lay strewn about the field.

“I thought the agents were here to protect us against you.”

The man laughed. “Hardly. There ain’t nothing up here to protect people from except insurance agents.”

“But we were told hundreds of organ hunters guarded the pass because it’s the only way to New Haven.”

“Where?”

“I mean Old Haven.”

“Oh, it is. And they used to, but there was so many of them up this way that people stopped going to Old Haven after a time, and then there weren’t no one for the organ hunters to hunt.”

“Then why does everyone think the pass is so dangerous?”

“Oh, them dern insurance agents have kept the rumors alive, so they could charge folks a fortune to go through here, but there really ain’t much to worry about anymore.”

“Then what are you all doing camped out here?”

“Oh, we heard them insurance agents had turned more aggressive and was actually attacking folks up this way, so we came to put a stop to it.”

“So then there’s no one guarding the pass?” asked Melvin.

“A few men,” said the man. “Volunteers, making sure folks make it safely through.”

“Do you know how to get to Old Haven?” Priscilla asked him.

“Sure. Just head through the pass and turn left a mile before where the old oak used to be.”

She stared at him, along with the others.

“It’s the first trail on the left.”

Old Haven was
exactly where the man had told them, and just like he had said, the occasional man they saw within Dragon Horns Pass had been there to protect them, not to harm them.

For the first time since entering the Netherworld, they had to pay for their dinners, but they managed to do so with a single strand of Priscilla’s hair.

“How far to New Haven?” Melvin asked their server. The wrinkled woman wiped her hands on a filthy napkin. “Where?”

“New Haven,” Priscilla answered. “It’s supposed to be about five miles north of here.”

“Oh, really? Well, if so, then I’d say it’s probably around five miles.”

“Thanks,” said Greg.

At most there were two hours of daylight left. The five finished their dinners and debated whether to stop for the night, but in the end all agreed to go on. Nathan might not have one more night left.

Using another of Priscilla’s hairs, they bought extra food for Greg’s pack. The shopkeeper seemed quite interested to know where they’d come across such a find, but when asked, Greg simply pointed to his ears and pretended he couldn’t hear. He could only hope the shopkeeper wouldn’t remember they’d been carrying on a conversation not one minute earlier.

New Haven was less dilapidated than other towns the group had witnessed. An unusually high number of villagers still had all their eyes, ears and limbs. Even the professionally clad insurance agents were conspicuously absent, and Greg had to wonder if that was the real reason for the town’s name.

A one-legged man hopped around outside the first shop they passed, rushing to beat the darkness as he hammered on loose boards in the wood siding.

“Ahem,” said Priscilla.

The man ignored her and continued hammering.

“Ahem,” Priscilla tried again, a little louder.

With a frown the man lowered his hammer and looked her way. “Yeh need a glass o’ water?”

“No, we need help.”

“Hmph. I don’t remember seeing you kids around here before. Where’d you come from?”

“Old Haven,” she told him.

“Where?”

“Do you know how we might reach the docks?” Greg asked.

“Most likely you’ll reach ’em dead,” said the man. He plucked a nail from the corner of his mouth, set it against the wood, and tapped it home with two strokes of his hammer. “I guess if you’re not from around these parts I ought to warn you. Ain’t safe to be walking anywhere near the docks alone, even in the middle of the day. But with darkness settling in, well . . . big market for little girls and boys down that way, you know.”

“Who you calling little?” Melvin asked, stretching up to his full height.

The man squinted right past him, trying to peer under Lucky’s hood. Fortunately Lucky’s hair was too short to identify the color.

“Still got both your ears, don’t you? Nope, I wouldn’t recommend going down to them docks at all.” He plucked a second nail from between his teeth and proceeded to secure another board.

“But we need a boat,” said Kristin. “We’re trying to reach Deth’s End.”