Witch Doctors Inc: SEASON ONE (Completed!)

Part 4.2

PRESENT DAY
LILY

"My idiot sister hexed me."

I look the woman over. She's tall and bony with thick auburn hair scooped up into a tight bun, and a pale pinched face. Her hazel eyes are unbalanced, with one slightly larger than the other.

And she has a flower growing out of her nose.

A giant waving daisy, to be specific.

"Ms Laketrue," I say calmly, "how do you know that your sister hexed you?"

She snorts. The daisy blows outwards with the sound of a balloon deflating. "It was her. She's been jealous of the success of my flower shop from the beginning. Hers was a flop."

I brush a runaway strand of lilac hair out of my face. She certainly has a flower coming out of her nose, and that's not normal.

"Do you have any other, uh..." I wave my hand in the general direction of her face.

"There's one coming out of my ear too!" She shakes her head angrily, and a smaller, floppier daisy pops out of her left ear. "Lily - may I call you Lily? Lily, do you know what it's like to be sprouting flowers all over the place? Have you tried blowing your nose with a daisy blocking the way? Or sneezing? I'm not going on like this, I tell you. I want my sister punished."

I give her my most sympathetic smile. "I am deeply sorry for your troubles, Ms Laketrue. I will do my best to diagnose and treat you. But Witch Doctors Incorporated, unfortunately, is not a law enforcement agency."

Her shoulders sag. "Fine," she mutters. "I'll go to the Mirror Guard. But can you get rid of the flowers?"

"Absolutely," I tell her. I don't mention it, but I can see the beginnings of a small bud peeping out of the corner of her right eye. If I don't do something soon, she'll have an entire meadow going.

"Ms Laketrue, did you notice any suspicious behaviour on your sister's part? Anything that would indicate whether the hex was oral or topical?"

She pouts, thinking. "She couldn't have rubbed it on me. I wouldn't let that witch get anywhere near me. She must've slipped something into my food."

I flinch at the casual use of "witch" as an insult. Ms Laketrue doesn't notice. Either that, or she doesn't care.

"We'll need a blood sample then," I say.

She pauses mid-pout. "You're not going to stick a needle in me, are you?"

I force a comforting smile. "We'll need to test your blood for the presence of a hex," I explain. "I'm afraid it's necessary to diagnose what manner of hex you've been suffering from. I'll need that information to brew you a cure."

"Fine. Make it quick. I don't like needles."

I don't like needles either, but I can't show it. I'm no longer an intern. I've passed my exams and I'm a fully fledged Witch Doctor now. I've got to display the utmost professionalism.

I take her blood while she winces and gives me the fish-eye. The smile stays plastered on my face. Many of our clients are in a bad mood when they turn up. It's not surprising, really. They've been hexed, or cursed, or bitten by something magical, and no medical doctor can help them.

That's where we come in. We're Witch Doctors. Not witches, mind you. Most people don't know that witches are real. They think they're just a legend, a story cooked up to scare children. Those of us who know the truth wish we didn't.

I brew the hex indicator spell while Ms Laketrue seethes in the consultation room. The cauldron sizzles as I add a pinch of powdered belladonna petal. I add two drops of Ms Laketrue's blood. The liquid in the cauldron bubbles loudly, and a tongue of flame leaps from it. It disappears with a pop and a shower of flame-coloured sparks.

I smile. She's been hexed alright. Looks like it'll be a successful day's work.

There's a loud crashing sound followed by the high-pitched yowl of a child.

"Hey, you can't go in there!"

"Miss, miss, this is private property -"

Yeah.

Scratch that.

I rush out of the potions room, the vial of fire quartz clinking noisily against my skirt. "What's going on?" I demand.

There's a thin auburn-haired woman in the corridor leading to the consultation rooms, gesticulating wildly. She has a boy of about nine or ten clutched in a white-knuckled grip.

"I'm not going to let that toad of a sister of mine slander my name all over this city, do you hear me? I want her arrested!"

Ruby, the receptionist, tries to reason with her as the boy wriggles in her grasp. There's a Mirror Guardsman with them. His chubby fingers squeeze the crystal brooch pinned to his chest. He looks utterly miserable.

"Who are these people?" I ask the guardsman, who's still looking like he wants to curl up into a ball and roll away.

The woman whips her head around, fury written all over her features. "Gloria," she snaps. "Gloria Laketrue."

Now I want to curl up into a ball and roll away. "You're..."

"Lydia Laketrue's sister, that's right." She fixes the guardsman with a glare that could melt fire quartz. "Well? Aren't you going to arrest her?"

The guardsman shuffles nervously. "Well, I, ah..."

"Mum, my arm hurts," the boy complains.

Lydia Laketrue, of course, is the woman who I have in my consultation room. Which makes this woman the sister who supposedly hexed her.

The guardsman turns to me, desperate.

"Lydia Laketrue has been hexed -" I start.

"AHA!"

Lydia bursts out of the consultation room, pointing a triumphant finger in her sister's direction.

"That means nothing," Gloria snaps. "I didn't do it. She can't just go around telling people I did. That's slander, isn't it?" She glares at the guardsman again.

"Well, uh..."

"It isn't slander if it's true," Lydia shoots back. The daisy in her nose wobbles dangerously.

Gloria's son giggles. "There's a flower -"

"Now you've got the child laughing at me," Lydia says. "This has gone on long enough. Officer, arrest her and be done with it."

All eyes turn to the guardsman. He clears his throat. "Well, ah," he begins. He clears his throat again. "I suppose I'll have to take you both down to the station."

"I want to come too," the boy says excitedly. "Aunt Lydia's got four flowers coming out of her head!"

Huh. I only counted three.

"It's past your bedtime," his mother snaps.

The Mirror Guardsman manages to usher them into the waiting room, where Ruby prints out Lydia's receipt. Both sisters are biting their lips, their foreheads wrinkled in twin frowns. I bet they're waiting to explode again at Mirror Guard headquarters.

Lydia will have to come back to pick up the antidote. The boy is still whining about coming along with his mother and aunt.

"It's already dark out," Gloria tells him. "You know who stalks the streets at night? The Dark Witch herself."

The boy grunts. "I'm too old for that stuff," he says. "I know witches aren't real."

"You tell that to the Dark Witch. She's waiting for you outside."

"Witches aren't real. Tell her." He turns to me.

I close my eyes, and I see them.

The First Witch, burning in eternal pain and hatred.

The Dark Witch, reducing the world around her to ashes.

And me, a nobody made of somebodies, trying to keep my soul free from darkness.

"No," I say quietly. "Witches aren't real."