Nina forced herself to stop trembling and lifted her chin. “And are you really going to use it to cure him of his RST?” she demanded.
The witch smiled. “Among other things.”
“Then take it.” Nina thrust out an arm. “Go on—I want you to.”
“Well, well…” The witch’s white-blonde eyebrows rose high above her strange cat’s eyes. “A willing victim…I mean donor. How strange.”
“It’s not strange. I care for him. I…I guess I love him.” Nina frowned, wondering why she was admitting such things to the witch. Were the fumes from the bubbling pot affecting her somehow? Acting like a truth serum?
“Love him, do you?” The witch’s slitted yellow eyes flashed gold for a moment. “Well then, this should be even more interesting than I thought.” She reached into the loose sleeve of her flowing black robe and pulled out a long, curving knife. “I’m glad you’re so willing to give of yourself, my dear. It will make the potion much more effective.”
Nina bit her lip as she watched the dim light from the fire glimmer along the silver blade. “Are you at least going to use some antiseptic?” she blurted. “I mean, do you have Betadine here? Or maybe even just some rubbing alcohol?”
“Your fears are groundless. This blade spreads no contagion although it gives much pain.” The witch nodded at her arm. “Hold your wrist over the pot. Your blood must season my potion to bring it to full effectiveness.”
“Fine.” Nina gritted her teeth and did as she was told. Holding her arm over the strangely cold pot was like sticking it into a vat of ice water, but she forced herself to hold still as the silver blade came closer and closer. It’ll be fine, she told herself. It’s probably just like a shot…it will only hurt for a minute…
And then the wickedly curved knife bit into the flesh of her wrist, and she started to scream…
* * * * *
“Nina? Nina!” Reddix roared as her screams echoed through the fetid swamp. It seemed like he had been searching for her for hours, slogging through the mud and algae, but he couldn’t find the witch’s hut. He thought of the old saying his people had, When you seek that which you cannot find, time bends around corners. It certainly seemed like that now—especially when he could hear Nina screaming in agony and couldn’t find her.
“Nina!” he shouted again desperately. “I’m coming, sweetheart, I swear it!”
“Reddix?” Her voice sounded faint and far away. He looked around in frustration. He was in the middle of the swamp, wasn’t he? Shouldn’t the witch’s hut be here, someplace? Where was it? Where was Nina?
“Keep talking,” he yelled, pushing his way through a tangle of yellow vines that had grown between the trees. “Keep talking so I can follow the sound of your voice.”
But his only answer was silence.
Nina’s voice was gone.
* * * * *
“I gave you my blood—you have to let me go to him.” Nina pressed the pale yellow cloth the witch had given her to the cut on her wrist. It still hurt, and it didn’t seem to want to stop bleeding, but the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as the cold fire of the silver blade slitting her flesh. That had been horrible—the worst pain she’d ever felt. “You have to let me go,” she said again. “I could hear Reddix shouting for me. He sounded frantic.”
“Most likely because he loves you too. So much the better.” The witch’s eyes gleamed. “Never fear, my dear—he will find you… in good time.” She gave Nina a cold smile which didn’t reach her slitted eyes. “But first, don’t you want to know the good your blood will do? Not only for your beloved Reddix, but for other, poor deserving souls who are lost in the universe?”
“I…suppose,” Nina said doubtfully. “I never thought—”
“No, you never thought beyond Reddix, did you?” the witch snapped. “But there are others who will benefit from my spell. Others you will set free with your oh-so-generous sacrifice once your lover drinks the potion, as he must. Look into my cauldron and see.”
Unwillingly, Nina leaned over the freezing cold cauldron and stared into the broth which was now a pale purple. As she watched, the boiling liquid became perfectly still, like the surface of a mirror. After another moment, a picture began to form.
To her surprise, the first thing Nina saw was the witch—but not as she was now. The witch in the cauldron seemed younger somehow. And she held in her arms a tiny adorable baby with eyes such a pale, piercing blue they were almost white. A thick shock of curly black hair topped the baby’s round little head.