Witch Hunt

"Turn left here."

Following Alloy's word, I turn the corner to pass another broken down alleyway. We've been trudging through unfamiliar territory. Scattered wooden planks, broken windows, abandoned buildings—a great contrast to the luxurious palaces I've grown used to.

I never expected Alloy's murder person to be a noble, neat and uptight, living in a large estate, but this is far from what I imagined. This is beyond civilian territory. A ghost town, perhaps.

Are we hiring a bounty hunter from the slums?

The cat shuffles in my arms, "Good guess. I'd have to say you're wrong."

As the path grows darker, grimier, my senses heighten. It's right to be cautious. I haven't seen a civilian since fifteen minutes ago which means there's no one to run to for help except the cat.

"I wouldn't recommend running to me for help either," The cat teases. "I'd be too busy looking out for myself."

It's an obvious attempt at a joke—our dynamic has grown more playful these recent weeks—but a part of me believes it. In the body of an agile feline, Alloy's capable of climbing tall structures, squeezing into confined spaces, and disappearing without a trace.

As for me? Against a real threat, I don't stand a chance. I could throw a punch or two, but it'd barely do any damage. I can ask Valerius, my husband, to teach me self-defense, but I resent him too much to approach him on my own.

Ah. I truly am hopeless without Alloy. It doesn't help with our situation.

"Maybe I should leave you in a ditch somewhere." I utter, vengeful.

"Don't be dramatic." Alloy huffs.

Perhaps we're out here to summon a demon. That'd be the only sensible explanation. Perhaps I'm the target of the assassination all along and, right now, I'm being led into a trap.

"You're starting to sound mad."

I shrug, "It's a fair guess. Who knows? Maybe you've grown tired of me."

"Crazy people are everywhere these days," The cat comments. "Come closer to that window there."

To be completely honest, I'd rather not. The broken panel, engraved with strange symbols, looks like the beginning of a morbid scene—one that involves human sacrifices and the occult.

But Alloy's claws are starting to prickle my skin and the journey would be a waste if we returned to the palace empty-handed, so I force myself to step forward.

"Hello?" I knock against the panel harboring broken glass. The symbols feel strange against my knuckles. Should I even be touching this thing?

I knock again. No one answers.

My defense starts to waver. I'm moments away from sprinting in the other direction. Am I imagining it or is the sky growing darker?

"Alloy," I call for the cat. "Should we leave?"

"When you've just arrived?" A crooked voice butts in from the other side of the panel. I can't see who or what it's from—the area inside is pitch black, impossible to comprehend.

I'm left speechless. The hairs on my arm stand in attention.

"Stay, child." The voice, again. "You came here for a reason."

"Give her the paper."

It's a her? I cough against my fist. "Yes. I did."

I place a piece of torn paper on the wooden panel. It's a list of ingredients Alloy tasked me to write, ones I can't recognize for the life of me, but the feline said it'd do the job.

That's all I need to know, really.

The voice hums in thought. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." I reply, eager. Now that I've gathered my senses, I recognize the voice to be one of an elderly woman's. It's a guess, not a sure statement. Who knows what could be on the other side of that panel?

Orc, goddess, maybe even a child is on the other side. Mysteries loom here from every corner. It's best to expect the unexpected.

A body slides next to mine and I almost scream for all the world to hear. Where the hell did that come from?

The stranger dons a cloak, concealing their identity from prying eyes. They slide a piece of paper towards the panel—another customer, huh. Strangely enough, something about them seems familiar to me.

Our eyes meet. Ah. Flustered, they look away, adjusting the cloak's hood.

It's too late. "Florian? What are you doing here?"

"Shh!" Florian jumps, impossibly red. He scans the area, eyes sweeping left and right, before glaring at me. "No one knows I'm here, okay?"

Startled by the prince's sudden ability to be straightforward, I nod. "I have no intentions of snitching on you, as long as you do the same for me."

In the first place, what is he here for? Did he read about a potion and had it made to satiate his curiosity? That sounds like Florian. However, it could be something more sinister. The prince doesn't leave the library unless he absolutely has to. He especially does not travel this far for just about anything.

Fascination might not be his motivation. In fact, Florian's actions reek of desperation.

The princes have been sneakier than I anticipated, pulling stunt after stunt. First, Cyrus' suspicious architecture. Now, Florian happens to be

We turn to the panel. There's two identical vials there, standing side by side. There are barely any distinctions. I can't tell which is mine.

Florian saves me the trouble of guessing and takes one of them. Before I can protest, he leaves. I pocket the one that's left.

"That's a deadly poison," Alloy explains. "Two drops can immobilize a fully grown elephant."

Sounds hazardous. This definitely shouldn't be accessible to just about anyone. But for what it's meant to do, it's perfect.

"The antidote is just as accessible. Once digested, the target should be paralyzed for about a week before being greeted by death. Until then, anyone can be cured." The cat explains.

"Is that all?" The crooked voice asks.

Alloy nudges my hand. "Show her the trinket."

Right. There are a few more mysteries left to unravel, a few more misfortunes to fix, including Alloy's conundrum.