Solace Curse: Part I

12 - Tallion

Every rustle in the bushes made me jump.

The gruesome pig hadn't done anything to calm my shaking hands. It wasn't long before a dimly lit hut came into view but it felt like an eternity. My head swiveled to every nighttime sound in the trees and I tried to tread lightly.

Squish. Snap. Crunch.

The shaman's hut wasn't pretty. I squinted to make out any details, but it was small and dilapidated, much like the rest of the town. A shabby roof tarred over with straw sat atop stone walls. It had a thick metal door.

As I neared the structure I wrinkled my nose. A pigpen off to the side held one filthy animal, which stared blankly as I tiptoed past.

I reached for the currents instinctively and they slipped away as usual. There was no telling what this shaman was like, or how they took to visitors.

Gritting my teeth, I rapped my knuckles on the door.

Nothing.

There's a light flickering inside, the shaman must be here. I knocked again, louder. The metal stung my fingers.

"Nobody's home!" came a voice from inside.

I furrowed by brow. Seriously.

"I'm here on business," I called, knocking again. Magic sparked from my knuckles. "And I'll knock this door down if you won't open it!"

A slat in the door whisked open. "I'd like to see you try." It slammed shut again.

"Then I'll knock until you open it or it rots!" This wasn't what I needed.

"Join the crowds that beat on my door all the day long, I'm sure they'll be glad to give their knuckles a rest and let you have your turn!" the voice cried.

I scowled. My magic could turn the whole hut to ash. Calm. You're different than that, that isn't you.

"All scoundrels and drunks, all of them," the voice continued, "begging for just a touch of Gullyseed elixir or a smidge of Wedgender juice. I—"

"I'm paying!"

A pause.

The slat slid open again. Two beady, wrinkled eyes appeared. "How much?"

"You'll have to open the door and see."

The slat closed.

Tick clang. Kachunk.

The heavy door swung open and the wizened old shaman gestured me inside, glancing out into the darkness.

As the shaman shut the door behind me, I paused to take in everything inside. Shelves stacked with books, bags, and plants I'd never seen, tables full of old parchment and strange artifacts, all piled together almost neatly, but haphazardly enough that I was afraid to touch any of it.

The shaman bustled around to a table and made himself busy stoppering bottles and folding cloths. "Let me just tidy up and we'll discuss business, goodness knows it's been a time and two-thirds since I struck a real deal."

I nodded and ducked a little, trying not to hit my head on pots and pans hanging from above. A tall stack of papers toppled onto the grimy floor, and the shaman tossed the whole pile onto a bed stuffed in the corner. The headboard had been badly scorched at some point.

The shaman unearthed a stool from what I had assumed was a mound of rags and offered me a seat at the clearest table. He sat likewise and leaned forward, peering at me intently. "So what is it you're paying?"