Chapter Eighteen

"I said I'm fine, Ian," Maria said, pushing Ian's hands away from her.

"I just want to make sure," he said as he watched her return to the wounded scattered around the room. Some sat upright against walls, talking quietly amongst each other, while others lay on the rotted wood floors, groaning. She admired the bandages she wrapped around their wounds, changing some and adjusting others. She sat back on her heels and looked up at Ian with a smile.

"I am," she said. "Thanks to ya." She returned to her work, speaking softly and cheerfully to her patients, administering the medical concoctions she had created over night with the resources she had.

Ian blushed and shrugged. He continued to watch her work. "We need someone who's good with a needle and thread around here," he said.

Maria's lips pinched together as she smiled at him. She stood and glanced out the nearby window at the witch sitting alone outside. She sighed.

"I 'ope that girl can pull through fer us," she said.

"Better hope Mido doesn't off her when he gets the chance," Ian retorted.

Maria watched as Mido appeared from the dark forest with logs in his arms. He eyed the witch carefully as he walked past before dropping the logs in a pile on the ground. He got to his knees and peered at the witch once more before he balanced the logs against each other. Maria smiled.

"I don' think 'e'll do that," she said.

"He has a particularly bad history with witches," Ian pointed out. "He's not about to let one live."

Maria shook her head. "Nah. Calliope there is different. She's a good one. Mido knows that."

Ian peered out the window, curious, and shrugged.

Outside, Mido sat on his heels, hunched over the pile of sticks and logs, working hard, but failing, at starting a fire. Calliope watched from a distant, leaning against the house. She watched as he blew at the sticks, which smoked, but did not light. She smiled and walked to him, squatting beside him.

"There's an easier way to do that," she said. She pointed her index finger at the pile of sticks and they immediately ignited.

Mido rolled his eyes. "Show off." He sat on the ground and watched the flames flicker as the heat warmed his face. The battle in his mind held strong; on the one hand, he wanted to trust the witch as much as Ian and Maria did. He wanted her to be able to help them defeat Scarletta once and for all. She seemed kind enough. But, on the other hand, no witch could be trusted. She was obviously crafty. She worked her sweet disposition and stunning looks to her advantage, manipulating them for some end game of hers. He wanted nothing more than to see her die in his own hands.

At the corner of his eye, Mido watched as the wind caught her dark hair, blowing it nonchalantly around her face. Her striking gold eyes held the glow of the fire; a light to guide them through their darkness. For a moment, she seemed completely mortal; human. Beautiful.

"Why are you doing this?" Calliope asked after a moment, bringing Mido out of his thought. She studied his expression as he listened to her.

"Hm?" he asked, clearing his throat in an attempt to refocus his attention – and his hatred – toward the witch.

"Helping me."

Mido shrugged and continued to watch the flames. "It's what everyone else wants."

"They look up to you. They would have trusted you if you wanted to kill me."

"I guess I don't want to kill you, then."

"Why not?"

Mido shrugged again. "If they trust you, I trust you," he said. "Plus, I promised Maria I would be nice."

"That's not a very good answer," Calliope said.

"Well," he turned to her, his hand on the ground, supporting the weight of his body as he leaned back. "It also wouldn't be a very fair fight. You're weak compared to Scarletta's other witches. All it takes is some good maneuvering and before you know it, you've completely exhausted yourself, and then I go in for the kill." He flipped his dagger in the air, watching it flip with dangerous grace, catching it confidently by its wooden handle, and winked at her.

"I thought you didn't want to kill me?"

"Only if you betray us."

Calliope turned towards the fire and said nothing. She didn't blame him for wanting to kill her; he didn't trust her like the others did, but she didn't dare press the matter further.

"So," Mido said, breaking the silence and turning to her, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What kinds of things can you do? Do you read minds?"

Calliope smiled at the ground. "No, I can't do that."

"Can you disappear?"

She shook her head.

"Can you control people?"

"No."

"Can you do anything besides light fires and throw around colorful balls of magic?"

Calliope met his gaze carefully but said nothing.

"Your eyes," he commented. "Is that a witch thing?" He looked deep into her eyes for a moment.

"What's wrong with my eyes?"

"They're a strange color. I don't see eyes like that on humans."

"Oh."

"I don't think the other witches had golden eyes like that."

"Maybe because I was supposed to be different. Her greatest creation."

Mido pondered this for a moment. He turned back to the fire. "What's it like to be a creation? What does being created even mean? Were you born?"

"No. My body is made up of magic. I was born into this body; this form. I was never a baby like humans. I just became this being, something from her imagination. I have the body of a human; a heart, lungs, a brain. It was just all put together using magic as opposed to being created by a man and a woman."

Calliope watched as Mido seemed to study her body. He met her gaze and turned away, clearing his throat.

"Interesting," he mumbled. "How old are you?" he asked after a moment.

"I have been around for three years."

Mido laughed at the idea of a fully grown three year old.

"What's so funny?" Calliope asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're three years old," he said. "It's just strange. Your body is not that of a three year old's. Not a human three year old, anyways."

"I'm not human," she reminded him.

"I know, I know. It's just strange." He paused, forming more questions in his mind. "Do you age? Are you immortal?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm immortal."

"What about the other witches? Did they age?"

"I've never seen a witch past five years. They used to tell me of one who lived to seven years, but Scarletta destroys them when she's done with them."

Mido winced, as if someone hit him. What a horrible fate that lay before Calliope, should they fail their quest. He couldn't imagine how she felt, what she went through, under Scarletta's control. He could see why she escaped; it was no life for anyone, especially someone who had felt so much remorse for her actions.

"Does Scarletta age? How was she created?"

"I know nothing about Scarletta except for what the other witches have told me; that she doesn't change. Her body has always looked the same for as long as she's been around. I don't know how long that's been. Scarletta never spoke about her past."

"Does she have more powers than you?"

Calliope nodded.

"Is she immortal?"

"I don't think so," Calliope said. "I think she uses a potion to keep her powers strong. I've seen her inject herself with it. She used to inject me with it when I grew too weak."

Mido stood and picked up a couple of nearby logs, throwing them into the diminishing fire. The flames burned stronger as the wood provided them the energy they needed.

"Why are you different?" he asked, turning his gaze to her.

"What do you mean?"

Mido sat back on the ground, closer this time to Calliope. "Why aren't you like the other witches? Why aren't you cold hearted and evil?"

"I don't know."

"You care about people."

"I know. It's awful."

Mido laughed. "We humans actually consider that a good trait."

"I wasn't raised to think that," Calliope reminded him.

"Well, it doesn't make you a bad person to care about people. It doesn't mean you've failed in your duties."

"But I have. This was not what Scarletta had intended. I was meant to help her get revenge and nothing more."

Mido felt his chest ache for her and the pain she must have felt. "She wanted you to be the most powerful witch she's ever created. That's what she got. You are the most powerful witch because you feel emotions. It takes a strong person to face those emotions."

"Witches are not the same as humans," Calliope retorted. "A witch who feels emotion is weak."

"Maybe you're not meant to be a witch, then. Maybe you're meant for the human world."

"I don't belong in this world."

"I think you do."

Calliope met his gaze. He smiled at her. Calliope felt more at ease with him now. Perhaps he trusted her after all. She admired his courage. Surely he, too, had a war going on in his mind. Defending a witch like herself could not have been easy.

Mido, however, felt uneasy in her presence. He had gotten so lost in his questions and curiosity that he had forgotten to feel his hatred towards her. He focused his attention on the burning fire once more. The door to the house opened and closed behind them, bringing them back into reality. Mido turned, caught off guard, to see who was there.

"We should get moving soon," Ian said from behind them.

Mido got to his feet. The rising sun was just beginning to peek over the distant mountain range. Gray clouds hovered above and stretched across the sky in warning of approaching rain. He looked to the sky as if expecting some sign. "If the king doesn't arrive by midday," he said. "We'll move out. Whoever is too wounded to continue will stay." He turned to Calliope. "Looks like we're in for some rain. You should come inside."

"I can stay out here."

Mido's eyes softened as he spoke to the witch. "No, you can come inside with everyone else." He grabbed her hand and met her gaze for a brief moment. He let go, cleared his throat, and pushed her playfully towards the old house.