We arrived at the headquarters of the Bay Leaves two minutes ago but we’re still sitting in the car. Hollyhock is biting the knuckle of her thumb.

I’m sure that Tamara knows we’re outside.

“That supposed to help you think of something?” I ask her.

“You straighten your posture every time you want to assert yourself,” she notes.

“No, I don’t!” Though as I say it, I feel my spine going straight as an arrow.

‘I suppose some lessons are harder to forget.’

The assassin chuckles.

“When you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing, assume the other person knows everything until they confirm they don’t,” she says. “I’m thinking of what she could ask me and what I’ll say.” She scoffs. “Whatever, fuck it, let’s just go.”

We get out of the car.

“‘Let’s’?” I ask as we head up the stairs.

“She’s going to ask you to come inside and ask you your thoughts on this.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I think she’s starting to suspect you’re more than just a tourist. She won’t prod too deeply into your business, but she’ll try to pull what she can from you. So try not to look all magicky.”

“Magicky?”

“Yeah, you usually have this look that’s like ‘I can magic my way out of anything.’”

“Don’t use magic as a verb.”

“Or what? You’ll magic me?”

“Maybe I will, I know a spell that’ll rip your tongue out.”

“That’s what hands are for,” she points out.

“I was kidding, have you actually ripped someone’s tongue out before?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” the assassin counters. She opens the door for me.

“Fair enough.”

Though it’s late, there are several members of the Bay Leaves up and about. The nature of their work has them active at all hours I imagine. Though some of them are just casually talking to each other. A few are preparing the various tools of their trade.

“Anyone got another ricin tablet?!” An assassin with a prosthetic arm asks.

“Yeah!”

“Over here!”

“Yep!”

“Yo!” Several answers at the same time and flock to supply them. I even see Hollyhock tap her person to check if she has any, but she doesn’t seem to.

“I really need to go grocery shopping,” she mutters to herself suddenly. Don’t know why a deadly poison reminds her to get food but whatever.

We head upstairs to Tamara's office.

The door is unlocked, the woman who summoned us is sitting at her desk, her head resting in one hand. The other hand is fiddling with something. It has four holes big enough to fit fingers through.

Hollyhock braces herself.

“Tamara,” she says. Her leader tucks the device away.

“Now,” she starts “I might be wrong, but maybe I’m not. I could’ve sworn I told you to take this nice young woman to a nice restaurant.” She points at me briefly before turning her attention back to Hollyhock. “‘Take her out on the town when things calm down.’ I think was more or less what I said.”

There is a pause. Hollyhock doesn’t have a quick-witted remark like she usually does, showing respect.

“And yet, I heard that someone beat the shit of several DeadNettles in a karaoke bar and kidnapped one of them. To top it all off, I heard there was a girl with gray hair seen in the middle of all this.”

Tamara turns to face me.

“Does an assault and kidnapping count as a night out on the town where you’re from?” She asks. It’s a rhetorical question, obviously, but she peers at me like one does a puzzle. She wants to know if my response will help her solve me.

“We had a nice meal at a diner. But it was...interrupted.”

“At Dandy Lion’s Diner?”

“Yes.”

“Heard about that too,” she says. Seems nothing gets past her in this city. She turns back to Hollyhock. “So how does a random act of vigilantism lead you to assault and kidnapping?”

“It was kids holding up the diner, Tamara. Couldn’t have been older than fifteen,” Hollyhock begins to answer. I thought they were older but that doesn’t matter right now. “The guns they had weren’t something kids could afford. They told me that Newt sold ‘em the pieces. So I went to go see him.”

“And put half a dozen people in the hospital.” Tamara stands up. Hollyhock shrugs.

“They’ll live,” she dismisses them.

“What if one of them ID’s you?”

“I’d be surprised if they could ID themselves. But don’t worry, I had a Chameleon patch on and there’s no way they would recognize my face,” Hollyhock answers.

“How’s that?”

“I had a mask on,” she replies. “Simple but effective.”

“Well masks are good for many things, but I doubt the truth is as simple as that.” Tamara looks at me again. “Hazel, why would you go along with this?”

“It’s important to Hollyhock, and if I may, she learned something rather disturbing.”

Tamara seems satisfied with my answer. She sighs deeply.

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“Medically skilled and covers for your ass too. Better treat her right, Holly.” The leader rubs her temples. “What did you learn that’s so damn disturbing?”

“DeadNettles have an agreement with the cops. They’re giving guns and drugs to people who have no other option for money, they get caught, cops throw them in a cell and they disappear a few days later. It’s an organ harvesting scheme, I’m guessing cops’ll get a percentage. Plus they get to look like they’re cleaning up the streets.”

Tamara for the briefest of moments has a look of disgust.

“How’d you learn this?”

“Newt told me like his life depended on it.” The meaning is clear to her.

“You heard this?” Tamara asks me.

“I did, I was there when he explained his gang's scheme. Sounds truly vile,” I respond. Tamara shakes her head.

“Where’s our snitch now?”

“Dead in a construction site over on Gardenia ave. No ones gonna see the body for a while,” Hollyhock answers.

“This city used to have limits in its depravity,” Tamara says. She paces around her desk. “Christ, that’s grim. I’ve met a lot of people who do fucked up shit, I’m no exception, but treating people like cattle? Like they’re just-”

The door to her office slams open and a rather tall and beautiful woman comes in with two plates of steaming hot food. She’s wearing an apron that says “Kiss the cook!”

“Dinner’s done, ku'uipo!” She announces, then reads the room. “Oh, sorry. Were you in the middle of saying something dramatic like you always do?” She asks Tamara.

“No,” she lies. The woman tilts her head. “I lost my train of thought,” she amends. “Doesn’t matter, Hollyhock just told me something and we need to strategize.” The steam rises from the plates so delightfully.

“Can we strategize over dinner? I made your favorite, barbecued chicken with baked paprika potatoes, and roasted bell peppers,” she pleads. The food smells delicious.

“It can wait.”

“I also made eclairs.”

Tamara’s stomach audibly growls. The woman with the food grows a wide smile.

“Fine, I’ll be there in a minute,” she concedes.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” she replies and leaves the room.

“Why were you two visiting the morgue?”

Hollyhock looks over at me for an answer.

“I was searching for some evidence that someone from my side of the world might be here in Oleander City,” I supply. That examining gaze of hers goes over me.

“And did you find any?” She asks, taking a step closer. I feel my spine going straight again as I answer,

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Is it something I should be concerned about?”

“It probably is, but it’s nothing I can’t handle myself.” She locks eyes with me for a moment. If she can tell I’m hiding something, she doesn’t show it.

“Well, I’m sure Hollyhock can be of some use to you. I trained her to be useful. And it’s only fair that she pays you back, right?”

“I’ll be sure to make use of Hollyhock's capabilities,” I chime in.

“See that you do. I wish you a pleasant stay in our city, as fucked as it becomes. Wouldn’t want people from your past ruining things,” she says knowingly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, dinner’s waiting for me.”

She ushers us out of the room and with the inquisition done we leave the building entirely. As soon as we reach the stairs Hollyhock heaves a big sigh of relief.

“Thanks for having my back in there, it went MUCH better than I thought it would.”

“That was nothing, you should see my mentor interrogate people.”

“Let’s hope I don’t. I have a hard time keeping up with you, I’d hate to meet the person who taught ya everything.”

She claps her hands suddenly.

“That’s enough for one day. You hungry?”

“Weirdly, yes. When I smelled that chicken I almost asked for some.”

“Koki’o is a great cook,” Hollyhock says. “I might try one of her recipes tonight.” She then tilts her head up and looks at the night sky.

“Fuck it, I’m too tired and I still have to grocery shop. I’ll cook for you tomorrow, okay?”

“It’s a date,” I reply.

“Aight so we’ll shop, get a quick bite, ko, and then we’ll wake up bright and early to do whatever it is you need to do.”

“Solid plan.”

“Now get your pretty ass in the car.”

🌿💀🌿

It’s late at night when I drive us to a small store. It’s, by the loosest definition, a grocery. I grab a cart and lazily push it around. There’s almost no one here, and a song I haven’t heard in a while plays on the radio. Witch-Hazel hums along with the melody as she strolls alongside me, browsing the aisles.

“Have you heard this song before?”

“Sometimes your music makes it to an Arcanium, this one is the latest hit.”

“The latest? This song came out like five years ago,” I explain.

“Didn’t say they were always current.” She picks up a box of pancake mix. “Do you know how to make pancakes?”

“Yes,” I answer “Do you want that for breakfast?” She nods enthusiastically. “Throw it in the cart then.”

She has a giddy smile on her face as she puts it in.

“You’re like a little kid.” I pick up a bag of flour.

“I haven’t had them in sooo long. I haven’t had sweets for some time.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say that having a few extra pounds back home is frowned upon.”

“Ahh, I see. Well, feel free to eat whatever you want around me.”

“Oh good, because I was wondering how these taste,” she says grabbing a case of gummi worms.

“Go ahead, try one.” She tears the plastic packaging open and shoves a few into her mouth. Her face lights up tasting the sugary snack.

“I haven’t had candy in forever!” She says around a mouthful of it.

“As long as you promise not to get a cavity or something.” I pop one in my mouth. “Do you have grocery stores back in IronHenge?”

“Not in so many words, we have places where you can buy stuff. Not like this though. They’re much smaller.”

“How big is IronHenge?”

“Planning a vacation?” She inquires.

“Just wanna know about your hometown. The ‘separating children thing’ is a massive red flag.” I look at the price of the cornbread mix. “But there are probably some good qualities to it, right?”

“You can gloss over that?” She asks.

“This country does it too. At least your place has a reason,” I answer.

“It’s hard to say how big it is. This is the only other city I’ve been to. Plus there’s a lot of spatial magic in IronHenge, making certain places bigger than they actually are. But Oleander City is definitely bigger.” She looks at the boxes with me. “What’s cornbread?” She asks.

“It’s like a muffin, it can be sweet or savory,” I explain. “What’s your favorite dish?”

She thinks about it for a moment.

“I got into this one meal where the chef would imbue the noodles with positive emotions from their actual life. People who had their love reciprocated, spouses of a wedding, birthdays, graduations, things like that people. They’d cook it for their friends to share the happiness. They’re called quasar noodles.”

“Why are they called that?”

“I think it’s because it sounds cool.”

“Ahh.”

I get us the rest of what I need and the insane amount of snacks that Hazel wants.

Before we head home I take us to a drive-thru, and we get chicken sandwiches and fries. Hazel feeds me mine as I drive us home.

We enter my cozy abode and put away the food. Crawl into bed and as I go to curl up, Witch-Hazel turns and she puts an arm around me. I put an arm around her.

“You have my back, right? If things take a turn for the worst?” She asks.

“What makes you think they might?” I ask back. The witch takes a second.

“A lot has happened in this city since my arrival. Things that were festering under the surface have suddenly come to light. Destiny, it seems, has much in store for us.”

“Well, I don’t believe in destiny. Never been one for luck either, but I probably used up all mine meeting you that night. And I haven’t come across a problem that couldn’t be solved by bullets.” I hold her closer. “And some spells probably wouldn’t hurt either. But yeah, I got your back since you already had mine.”

Witch-Hazel nuzzles her face in my shoulder nook.

“Promise?” She asks, her voice tickling my skin.

“I promise,” I answer.

“I don’t know what we’re walking into, and I don't know how it’ll go. But however it ends up…” her voice is tired, “I’m glad I met you,” she says before drifting off to sleep. No doubt she’s crashing from her sugar high.

I stare at that beautiful face of hers.

“Me too. Me too.”

Ch. 11 End