1 It Tasted Like Freedom, But It Smelled Like Mildew

Jessel was afraid for her life. She was afraid for every fragment of her soul. She was afraid of the pain that she might endure and the pain that she was sure the servants would endure. But she couldn't control what happened to the people she left behind, she could only control what happened to her from now on. The past was the past and it would stay that way. It needed to stay that way.

The trunk was pitch black. She'd thought that maybe she would be able to see tail lights, or maybe there would be a small light in the trunk or something. She didn't expect the darkness but it didn't bother her much. Her eyes were special, they could see all kinds of wonderous things, but seeing light when there was none, that was not her gift.

Her right eye, the grey one, with the proper spells could see the weather. Really it was just the rain, depending on the spell and her concentration, she could see exactly when the rain would come for months, perhaps years in advance. She never gave them much, she didn't want to seem to useful or too useless so she'd only ever forecasted a few weeks ahead for Count Ordog.

Her left eye, bright and emerald green, she told everyone that it saw nothing that wasn't there, it's just a regular old eye, beautiful to be sure, but not magic. But she did see things. Things that she never shared. On the last night of an old moon, she saw love and rage. She saw envy and forgiveness. Desire to grow and desire to destroy. She was privy to what people are, or perhaps what they would be or wanted to be. She didn't know exactly what she saw so, she tried not to see anything at all.

When the old moon held the sky, she had seen Mistress Istenanya in her left eye, she stood balancing atop a small blue marble. Her son and leader of this Branch of the Life Tree, Count Ordog sat atop a horde of untold wealth, covered in blood. She saw her sister wife, Breen, beaming, holding twins. When she saw the cook Melissa, in her arms she held the serving girl Gillian. She saw Gillian with a ring on her finger on a throne next to Ordog and his wives all below her, gathered at her feet.

She had seen herself once, when she was just a little girl. She remembered very little from before she was a teen but she remembered as clear as day the vision she saw of herself from when she was very young, maybe five years old. She saw herself as an adult wreathed in fire, she saw herself and she was a destroyer, the world burned. When it came to her left eye, nothing she saw made her more afraid than what she had seen in herself. She swore to never be that destroyer so she worked to be submissive. Passive. Peaceful.

Jessel's parents had been very important in their community. Possibly on par with The Count, at least before he was to eventually ascended and take his mommy's big chair. Until that time, her parents held true power. People listened to them with reverence. Then one night they fled with her little sister. Her last memory of them was of their backs, her father held her sibling in his arms and they were running out the door.

Her grey eye kept her from being just a servant after the flight of her family. Before they left her behind she was known to be magic, even though she'd been abandoned, she would still have status. Her place in this Branch put her above most, but jealousy ruled the court. Her peers hated the favor Ordog showered her with, that his favor sickened her did not matter. And they were conspicuously silent when she was forced to his quarters, or when he came to hers in the night.

As a child Jessel had not feared him. He was a tall and imposing man and their leader, still as a young girl she was not afraid of him or scared by him. He could act frightening, he could give frightening looks and sound strong despite a surprisingly high voice. Still, she did not fear him. Ordog intimidated with his attitude, especially his eyes more than any physicality. As a young woman people knew that Jessel would be special and she was treated that way, none would dare raise a hand to her in anger or otherwise.

Ordog did not scare her, not until the evening after her first weather prediction was proven correct. She was twelve and looked every bit a little girl. Had her hair been cut short, she could have been mistaken for a young boy.

He walked to her bedside and dropped to his knees. His face was now lit by a hall light that snuck in through the sliver of space where the door was left open. The smile was huge, his dark eyes a bit unfocused. Jessel was confused, why was he here?

"You're such a good girl." On top of the blanket he ran his hands over her form. Lightly at first then pressing against her harder.

"Such a good good girl."

She tried to speak and he shushed her, "Only say what I tell you to say."

"But-" his hand moved to her throat and squeezed hard enough that she couldn't speak. She fought, slapping and scratching at the hand that strangled her. Her nails dug in and she felt his bones under them, she felt tendons in his hand tighten.

"I'm not going to hurt you, " He clamped down on her throat harder, "Unless you keep hurting me."

Jessel was more afraid than she had ever been in her life. Compared to what she felt then, she didn't know if she had ever truly feared before or since. She stopped fighting, she was getting dizzy.

"Now there's a good girl." His grip tightened a bit more. His high pitched voice followed her into her sleep.

Jessel passed out. Thinking about that, thinking about any part of that night and all of the similar nights after that one was something that Jessel never did. At times a piece of the memory would slip in and try to ruin her day. A small thing, the sound of clothing hitting the carpet, a door creaking open in the night, the mouth of someone drinking wine. A lot of things brought the memories with no rhyme or reason to the frequency. Sometimes it just…happened. Life is not fair.

Long had it been that Seers were to be separate and protected, but with Ordog, many old rules were ignored and Mistress Istenanya indulged him. Jessel was forced to become one of his wives, her protest were met without support. The court was perfectly happy to ignore the beatings that he savaged her with when the weather did not treat his crops as he thought they should, when a ship was lost or late, no matter that she only saw rain, he blamed her and he beat her as if she controlled it.

She was not the only one that suffered, everyone suffered Ordog from time to time. However, her sister wives and fellow seers kept her out of the tight clique in the ruling class of this Branch. She may have been a wife, a seer and a high member of the court, but she was forced to be an island unto herself.

Leaving that hell was worth any price.

She felt the car slowing, when it turned abruptly the movement shifted her towards the passenger side. She heard the tires transition from the highway onto a rougher surface. In short order the car came to a stop. Maybe they had arrived.

The buzz of florescent lights after the engine switched off was all she could hear. She wished that the trunk wasn't so dark, it would have been nice to spend the last few hours she had with her eyes actually seeing stuff, even if it was just the inside of a car trunk.

The trunk raised a few inches then stopped. The feet of the person opening the trunk shuffled, kicking a bit of gravel as they looked around, checking to be sure that they were not being observed. The door slowly raised the rest of the way open.

From her position in the trunk, Jessel saw the beldame silhouetted by a flickering light. The light was the cheap florescent type, plastic covered and stationed above the door directly behind the old woman.

The old witch that helped Jessel escape was Madame Kay, at least that's what she'd called herself. Jessel realized that the woman's real name could have been anything, she'd never seen or heard anyone talk to or about her. To someone of Jessel����s standing, the old woman was just one of the witches that worked at the compound's hospital. Not that she wasn't worth knowing but unless someone was a member of the court or a servant of the house, you just didn't talk to them. It just wasn't done.

Her savior stood before her. No longer wearing the grey robe of a witch nurse, she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a big green sweater. Seeing someone in clothes of the common folk was odd. People wore them from time to time in the community, but it wasn't very fashionable and it made you look like you didn't want to be there. There was nothing officially saying you couldn't, but social pressure made the choice one of those choices that wasn't actually a choice at all.

"We ure in saff plese. Geet owt, follow," the crone said in her rough accent. As she spoke, she jerked her head indicating that Jessel should follow her to the left.

Crawling from the trunk with no helping hand from Kay, Jessel's feet hit the cool damp pavement. The long thin shift that The Count demanded she sleep in hung just above the ground and did nothing to keep the elements at bay. The humid air immediately set to work fastening the cloth and her long red hair to her body with dampness.

She drew in a deep breath. It tasted like freedom, but it smelled like mildew. There was a bit of a fresh forest feel to it however the freshness was overpowered by the mildew smell emanating from the seedy motel.

She turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings. The trunk of the car was parked so it opened on the motel sidewalk, directly in front of the rooms. The building stretched out like a strip mall, probably a dozen doors, once past the rooms on right there was an office with a neon sign proclaiming it as open. To the left side there was dark forest. Plenty of trash and a dumpster but the beautiful dark forest was there too. Jessel yearned to run free, uninhibited into the woods. The front of the car faced the road, a long dark two-lane road that twisted itself out of sight. It was lit only by what eeked out of the clouded night sky and oozed from the disgusting bank of rooms. There was an electric sign near the road, messages rolled across it. The sign declared this place to be the Helscion Motel and let the world know that there were vacancies. After taking in the area, she saw Kays slow shuffle stop at the second to last room on the left.

It felt like a thousand tiny needles pricked her feet and legs as she made her way to the old woman. Being curled and cramped in a car trunk might have gotten her free but so far the promise of a painless existence was being ruined by her own legs which had fallen asleep in the trunk.

She got to the room just as the witch had stepped in. Jessel took one more look at her new world, the night sky was beautiful. More stars than she had ever seen.

The open sign in the office was now off and a new bright red neon sign informed the world that it was closed. Hadn't it just been open? The office a bit brighter? She felt compelled to go towards the office, she stared at it and saw nothing but a dark window. Jessel steeled herself for her new life and followed the old woman into the room, closing the door behind her.

Jessel worried that they were being spied on. It had been far to easy so far. She felt the telltale signs of a fit coming on and she thought back to her youngest years. Whenever a fit was overcoming Jessel, her mother had taught her to imagine herself in a bubble, safe from the world, nobody listening in. A big bubble with just the two of them. She inhaled sharply three times, blew out a little breath quickly and imagined the motel in a protective bubble.

"Now, dis is where I tek de payumunt."

The abruptness startled her a little. Getting right to it wasn't the worst thing the young seer supposed but it had snapped her out of the calm brought on by the image of a bubble keeping her safe. But she didn't feel near having an episode so the danger was passed.

As she prepared to speak, there was a distant and muffled crash somewhere outside. The witch walked around her and pulled the curtain aside. She scanned parking lot and did not indicate that she saw anything out of sorts. She turned around and gave her full attention to Jessel.

"Can I see the eyes that I'll be getting, I know…" Jessel trailed off for a second, she felt so awkward asking anything of this woman that had saved her, "I know that they are whatever they are going to be and I won't complain, I just want to see them before you put them in."

The old woman scoffed, "Vut?

"The eyes, the ones that I'm trading mine for, can I see them?" She clasped her hands together and was unable to look directly at the beldame.

"Vut eyes? The kezs geet you money. You pey me vis yewr eyes to geet owt. You no peyd for new eyes."

Jessel thought that a smile was trying to work its way onto Kay face, when she finally looked into the old witches eyes, the smile was there, not on her lips but clearly in her eyes.

Jessel opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to say something. She wanted to remind the old woman that they had a deal. In exchange for a ring of the compounds keys, and her eyes the old woman would help her get away from that horrible place and some money to start over with. The old woman would help her to freedom.

Jessel went over the conversations they'd had. To call them conversations would be an insult to the concept of conversations, nonetheless, they had communicated, some words, some almost impossible to read notes.

The old woman had some how gotten her out and Jessel had presented her with a set of the courts keys.

As she went over and over their communications she realized that there had been no talk of a replacement set. Why would she even have to say it! It's obvious! She needs eyes, how could that old bitch expect her to not have eyes!?

When it was time to deliver her eyes, Jessel had never even considered that there wouldn't be a swap. A fire roared inside of her, her fists clenched, she straightened her back and met the beldames gaze.

"You can't expect me to be blind."

"I expect nah-thing of you yew bat to pey. Deal is deal." The look in her eyes evolved to an expression that overtook her entire wrinkled face. She looked as if she was amused and a bit put upon.

Jessel took a step towards the old woman, "I pay my debts. But I will not be left blind and naked out here to be caught and brought back!" she finished with anger.

"Ve made deal." The old woman held her hands out towards Jessel as if to slow her advance, "Perhaps new deal for new eyes?" She inclined her head in a placating gesture and turned her hands over, as if offering the younger woman something.

"I have nothing left to give!" Her eyes burned and the volume of her own voice surprised her.

The crone retreated a few steps, bumping into the bed, hands once again held up to slow any advance that Jessel might make.

"I tak samting smool, samting yew not miss. Samting yew hove not uste! Vut I tak make yew stronk" By the time she finished talking, it was all falling out in a rush, almost pleading.

The escapee, the fugitive from The Life Tree collective, stepped forward until the witches outstretched hands were touching her.

"OH, so you came with replacements after all." The sneer on her face outdone only by the accusation in her tone. She didn't feel like herself.

Kay tried to stand up straighter but her crooked form had no more height to give and she only succeeded in tilting her head back.

"I must geet de eyes, yew must wait. Do ve haff deal?" Her jaw was clenched, her face was set with an expectant look.

She was supposed to be helping her! Her entire life she'd been put upon and put down by everyone around her. She had taken it. The hate, the beatings, being used, ignored, violations and humiliations. She had taken all of it with grace, with a smile when her face wasn't too swollen to smile. Now, here she was, in a nasty motel, freedom in the hands of a woman that would leave her blind and alone or rob her further of God know what!

Jessels eyes burned and her vision blurred. Heat welled inside of her. Anger roared. She realized that she was crying.

"Just…" She suppressed the urge to strike the old woman.

"Ve. Haff. Deal?" Her large blue eyes grew hungry and her hands cupped Jessels face.

"What do you want, what do I have left to give?" The fire inside ran out of fuel, an exhaustion overcame her.

"What else are you going to take, I…I…" She wasn't sure she wanted to know. Maybe it was best just not to know.

"It iz best yew do nat know." She considered for a second, mimed pulling on a rope "I tek rawp det hold yew. It mek you stronk, good deal." Her voice became soothing.

"Jus-, I.. I want…" Her words failed her and she plead with her eyes.

"Stronk and free." The old woman smiled up at her, hands now even firmer on her cheeks. She gave her a light comforting pat.

"Ve haff deal?" She sounded like a kind old woman offering a cookie to a child, not a wretched old crone asking for a piece Jessel.

Tears now poured from her eyes, tears from her own eyes for the last time she realized. She gripped the old woman's wrists.

"Deal."

Her body went ice cold. Everything went black.

For a time she slept well. She felt safe and looked out for. A warmness was near her and she knew that things would be ok.

When she could see again, the world was a bit murky and misshapen. She saw… the bed and what looked like a digital alarm clock which was taking up half her vision, as if she were looking at the world from a nightstand . An old woman moved into view. She only saw her back but Jessel knew it was Kay. There was no sound. The air crackled, she felt nothing but a weight pressing down on her. It pressed from all sides. A dull ache behind her eyes. The woman worked hard over a figure on the bed. All went black once again.