Bedlam Boyz(64)

Elizabet walked to her, resting her hands on Kayla's shoulders. Her dark eyes searched Kayla's. "Are you all right, child?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, but listen, there's—"

"Later, child," Elizabet said, turning that glare on Beara. "All right, old woman, I want some answers from you. To start with, why are there two dead black boys lying on your doorstep?"

"Trespassers." The old woman shrugged. "Hoodlums. Thugs. Cheap stew meat."

"Elizabet," Kayla began, her voice squeaking a little. "She's a, uh . . . she's a . . ."

"Ogress," Elizabet said firmly. "And a cannibal, from the looks of her kitchen," she said, glancing around and wrinkling her nose. "And what else are you?"

"I am An Caillach Beara, The Hag of Beara," the old woman said, straightening slightly from her bent-over position. "I came here from Ireland hundreds of years ago, like many of the Wee Folk and the Tuatha De Danaan. And who are you who comes so boldly into my parlor?"

"I'm Elizabet Winters," the black woman said quietly. "I'm a witch and a healer and guardian of this young girl. I've spent weeks chasing down any trace of magic in the city, trying to find her."

"But I've spent time and magic on her as well," the old woman said, smiling. "It was my magic that called her here, reaching out to her across the city. Who, then, has the greater right?"

"Uh, can I . . . I mean, I didn't . . ." Kayla could feel the currents of power rising between the two women, like the smell of rain before a storm. "Listen, Elizabet . . ."

"Be silent, child," Elizabet said, not unkindly. Her eyes never wavered from Beara. "So, old woman? What will it be? You may be a powerful Irish ogress, but there are two of us, and we can't be discounted that easily."

The old woman stared back at her. "For five hundred years, no one has dared threaten me."

"Get used to it, lady." Elizabet's voice was tight.

"I'm really not that much of a villainess," Beara said, looking away. "Yes, I feast upon the mortals, but only the worst of them—the thieves and muggers and punks who would prey upon a helpless old woman. The predators, the ones who laugh at me and my magic. They chased me out of Ireland, those ones, and so I came to this New World. The land of the free, the home of the brave. Even here, they hound me." She sighed. "It's just as well, I suppose . . . one still has to eat. Still, if I let you go, then I'll have to deal with the police. . . ."

"I'll make you a deal," Elizabet said quietly. "Let us leave now, unharmed, and we won't interfere with what you do."

"What?" Kayla said, and stopped as Elizabet put her hand on her shoulder, holding her back. What's she saying? This lady is a murderer, a cannibal, an ogre, God knows what else! We can't just walk out of here and let her keep doing this!

"So, old woman, what do you say?"

"We are alike in many ways, you know," the ogress said. "You've learned what it took me many years to understand: any woman with power is to be feared and hunted. At least we should not hunt each other, eh?"

"They don't burn witches these days, but they sure don't invite them to join the P.T.A., either," Elizabet said with a faint smile.

I don't understand this. She's acting friendly with this—this thing! "Elizabet—" Kayla began.

"Shush, child," Elizabet said without glancing at her. Kayla realized that Elizabet's gaze had never wavered from the ogress for a moment, not even when she was smiling.

"I would enjoy speaking with you again, Elizabet," the hag said. "You are a woman after my own heart, reminding me of my long-lost sisters."

"As long as you're not after my heart," Elizabet said. "I don't think I'd like to come over for dinner, thank you very much."

"Oh no, we'll have high tea with scones and crumpets," the hag said with a chuckle. The old woman's smile faded. "I have a small truth to confess. I knew I couldn't harm this girl from the moment I saw her. Even though I was very tempted, when she picked up one of my knives. . . ."

Kayla suddenly remembered the knife in her hand. A little self-consciously, aware of the raised-eyebrow look that Elizabet was giving her, Kayla put it back on the counter.

"But there is a danger for all of us on the horizon: a black cloud on our future, a danger to the magic in this place and all who need that magic to live," the hag said. "In six moons' time," she continued. "Whatever is going to happen, it will happen in six moons' time. You have that long to prepare this young one to help counter it." She pointed at Kayla. "Her skills will be needed. You have six months to teach her what she needs to know."