Page 93 of Bad Witch

We reached All the Herbs in record time, and Fender agreed to wait out on the street while I got him supplies.

I strode across the cottage and grabbed a satchel and loaded it with the healing balm and elixir. I’d never felt so torn in my life. I wanted to go with him, I wanted to help, but I was no great warrior. The best thing I could do was stay here and care for those in need.

My phone rang, and I rushed to the table and picked it up. Jack’s name was on the screen. Panic instantly seized me. “Jack? Is everyone okay? The twins?”

“There’s been no change.”

I was torn between relief and despair. At least they were holding steady. “Do you need me to come back in?”

There was a beat of silence. “No, I need to discuss something else with you, Tempest.”

Not Temp, like he usually called me, and there was an odd note to his voice. “Okay.”

“I heard Iris and her mother talking about the potion you both used. They said the potion came from you not her aunt. When I pressed Mags about what I’d heard, she had no choice but to admit it. Is that true?”

He was asking as a courtesy. He’d known Magnolia, all the Thornhearts, far longer than he’d known me. Lying would do me no good in this instance. If she’d told him what was in it, I was in serious trouble. “Yes,” I said, because I had no other choice.

“Magnolia said she didn’t know what was in it.”

A wave of relief washed through me. I said nothing.

“I would like to know what you put in that potion.” He released a long breath. “Whatever it is, it’s powerful. Whether or not it’s truly helping or if its effects are only temporary are yet to be discovered. I need to know what you gave my patients, Tempest.”

My stomach clenched. “I can’t tell you that.” Using Agattealia Pontella the way I had was bad enough, and even though I liked Jack, I didn’t know him enough to trust him with this. Telling him or anyone else about it or how I came by it could end in disaster.

“When you started, I believed you were who you said you were. You proved you were an exceptional healer, and I could clearly see you were a good person. Witches keep their pasts private for all kinds of reasons, and until now, I was happy for you to keep yours private as well. But not anymore. Who are you really, Tempest? Because there’s no Tempest Manfred registered with the witches council.”

“I can’t tell you that either,” I choked out. I couldn’t tell him my real name, not when I was thought to be either dead or the murderer of my own parents.

He was silent several beats. “You’re a talented healer, Temp, and an asset to this clinic, but I can’t have you giving my patients mysterious potions. I can’t have someone I know nothing about treating the people in my care with gods knows what. I know you’re not out to hurt anyone, Temp, I do, but I have to be able to look our patients’ families in the eye and know I’ve done everything in my power to help their loved ones. I have to have answers when they have questions about the care and medicinals we’re administering. You must know this?”

I did, but it didn’t change anything. When I still didn’t answer, he sighed and carried on.

“You either tell me what I need to know, or you can no longer work at the clinic. I have to be able to trust my healers. You don’t get to unilaterally decide what’s best for the patients, that’s not how it works here.”

“But it worked,” I said, desperately trying to hang on to the life I’d created for myself. I didn’t want to lose this. Healing, caring for others had made me feel whole for the first time in my life.

“That’s not conclusive, and you know it,” Jack said. “Or maybe you do know?” He sighed again, the exhaustion clear in his voice. “It’s my clinic, everything comes back to me. It’s my head on the chopping block if things go wrong.”

“I know that, and I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again, but I can’t tell you what you want to know,” I rasped.

“And that’s your final answer? You’re choosing not to tell me?”

There was no choice. I couldn’t tell him. Pain lanced through me. “I’m sorry.” And as I said it, I felt the world I’d created for myself slide through my fingers.

“So am I.”

Then he was gone.

I leaned heavily on the table and breathed through the agony, fighting back the tears stinging my eyes. This was always going to happen. I should be grateful I had as long as I did.

Fender’s words filled my mind. I was powerful. He hadn’t meant it the way I did right then, but it was no less true. I was a witch not to be trifled with. Jack was only doing what he thought was right. Getting upset never solved anything.

I ignored the feeling that I was about to unravel at any moment, shoving it down, and straightened my spine. We had weapons to find.

Grabbing my pack, I transferred my supplies to it from the satchel, then marched to my room, changed out of my skirt and blouse, and pulled on my fleece-lined yoga pants, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and the leather jacket Fender had given me, then pulled on my sturdy hiking boots.

I called June next and asked her to feed Glinda and Manfred in the morning. She’d grumbled and complained, but finally agreed, even though I knew she would never say no. She just enjoyed being ornery too much to let me off easy. To June, and those who came before her, it was an honor to serve the Matildas. I didn’t say it, but this may be the last time she got to help me.