Chapter 7

It was around four in the afternoon by the time they reached the outskirts of the desolate escarpment. The entrance to the valley was splattered and marked in blood, sigils of warning. "My master once spoke of a friendlier witch called Poligrin that was ridiculed and cast out here. He said that she was through the valley and across a fire scorched, petrified forest. We're to find her under a giant downed oak tree." They slowly proceeded through the valley as if the death ravaged land would throw something out at them from each and every shadow. The brothers jumped at the first howl of the wind, as if demons or some rabid creature were going to eat their fleshy hides in any instant. Their blood froze solid as some creatures fearsomely roared in the distance. Lucian shuddered. "I-if I get eaten by a dragon, it's your fault." "Hey. Hey. Hey. All of this," he gestured, "was your idea."

The sun was going down as they reached the barren desert full of death and dusty tumbleweeds. Crows yelled at them from a short distance away on some dead trees, while a scruffy hell driven buzzard with huge talons circled them above. They couldn't see the sun much anyway, though the air burned as if it were walking right along with them.

"That must be her house over there," Lucian pointed. Through the heat waves Lucorrian spotted a little grayish brown blur under what was left of a giant blackened tree.

As they approached, a warm glow of a fireplace shone through the murky windows of the cottage, cutting through the sheer darkness that had fallen upon the boys. It was hardly a house anymore, as if it were abandoned centuries ago. The wooden planks making the shack stand were faded to gray, weary paint chips flaking off of them. Some of the wood sheets were broken and missing, wind violently rushing through them, giving off creaks and groans. Their horse reared up out of fear when lightning shot across a nearly clear sky and a horde of dragons began an uproar in the distance. The brothers quickly ushered the spooked creature to a nearby shattered barn with barely a roof left. Bats chirped overhead as they locked the door behind them.

Lucian took lead and fearfully knocked on the old witch's door. A short hagged elderly woman opened it up with a small creeky growl. Her smile was eery with only a few teeth left, rotting, as if a festering disease had been long inlaid within her. The boys were just appalled. Almost every inch of skin showing from the woman was plagued with oozing sores. Her clothes too were ragged, with matted muddy gray hair clinging to its ridges. "You may call me Polly. You boys are quite far from home. What brings you youngsters here?" Desperately trying to break their stare of alarm, Lucorrian finally spoke up, his voice almost shuttering with disgust. "We seek your assistance ma'am. The grand monks of Isle Carlyle sent us to you. There is uh... a dark spell, or uh... curse of some sort plaguing the Kingdom. It's got everyone there going mad, along with the local crops dying, by spontaneous fires mostly." "Don't forget that ominous storm too," Lucian added. "I knew it was evil magic as soon as I saw the pitch black clouds circling the Kingdom like a hungry wolf day and night."

The witch paused in amusement and thought, slowly nodded, and then flashed that gruesome smile. "Come," she gestured. "Come. Let's see what we can do." The brothers joined her inside the house as she hobbled over to her large dusty bookshelf. She went through a few hide covered pages of several books and finally came to one low on the shelf, bound in what Lucorrian guessed was dragon skin. "Hmm, yes. I think this will do. For a small price of course, I will give you all that you desire." "What price?" Lucorrian asked cautiously. "My dear boy Lucian," she said calmly, turning towards the albino. "I would like a vile of your blood. Your... aura is very rare, and quite an expensive powerful ingredient. The only thing better is a pure bred albino. They're basically demigods." Lucian looked down at the floor a moment, weighing the decision, and then locked eyes with Lucorrian, thinking on it some more. Finally, he turned back to the lady and nodded. She suddenly became excited, and with a little pep in her step, went over to her supply shelf and pulled out a beautiful jade blade with an ivory handle. She made a small cut on the monk's arm and drained it into a jar until it was about 1/4s of the way full.

"Ah. Perfect. Now let me get that spell for you." She pulled out a blank scroll and a quill, beginning to copy the incantation from the dragon book. This cooky old witch cackled with raspy laughter at an invisible voice that only she could hear. The boys backed away and sat as far across the room as they could. Clearly she was crazy. She just went on writing the spell, muttering something, and then chuckled some more in the most disturbing pitch imaginable to either of them. Lucorrian felt that at any moment she was going to cast some spell and make the two of them into soup and pie, or maybe just craft their bones into jewelry.

She finally let out a long sigh as she concluded the work. The witch gingerly rolled up the scroll and grabbed a jar of some yellow goo. Lucian and Lucorrian shared a glance and then joined her at the door. She handed both items to the two of them. "Just mix both of your bloods with the gel, smear it on the front door of the castle, and chat the spell. Good luck." "Thank you enormously," Lucorrian said. Lucian just dipped his head in respect and gratitude. As they turned to leave she added "And oh, don't worry about dangers going through the valley. The blood sigils ward them off," she winked at them.

Though still cautious despite the old lady's assurance, the two of them hurried back from whence they came. The cool light of the moon lit their path, but the cursed desert air still burned from the blistering sun. Lucorrian had never felt so parched in his life.

They were graced with the honor of making camp within the forests of the Earth Tribe's borders despite showing them rudeness earlier that day. The cold soil and lush plants were a true blessing after what they had just journeyed through. They only rested for a few hours after some delightful food, and were off again long before the break of dawn, anxious to break the spell.