Hazel - Book 2 Sneak (Patreon)

There was a sad softness to Hazel’s face. The kind that had my stomach turning half the time while anger bubbled elsewhere.  I couldn’t touch. I couldn’t interact. Yet, Hazel was the one wandering the apothecary like a ghost. Sticking to the shadows of her home and going through the motions with a distant look on her face.  I couldn’t stand it. Given who she was before, the way she always had a smile for anyone who passed her way, this version of her felt faded. Like she was an old photo of herself that had been worn down with time.

Getting to the apothecary had been difficult. Stretching myself further and further had taken several attempts. At least until I became strong again, connecting with parts of myself that I had severed when I came down here the first time. It had been worth it, though. For her.  Now I just had to figure out how to get back home before she lost herself even further.

“Hazel, did you bring in the beets from out back?”

Hazel sighed. The failure I saw in her eyes was disheartening.  “They didn’t winter over, mother. I could go down to the market and get more.”

There was a shift in the air. As if the entire place made room for Lucinda Albright as she entered the room.  “Weren’t you supposed to do that yesterday?” She swept through the room almost silently, followed by the whispers of the dead that were often at her back.

“I was. I just got caught up with the herbs. With the wisps not around as much, they aren’t producing like they’re supposed to. I have to baby them a bit more.” Yet, I had seen Hazel yesterday. She had spent most of her day sitting in front of the bushels of mint, just staring.

Lucinda walked over to her child, cupping her cheek. Her thumb traced a tear track that had long dried. “Oh, my darling. You must snap out of this melancholy state you are in.  There is no point to it.”

“No point?” Hazel asked, looking upwards. “Mother, my friend is dead.”

“They are not.”  I felt myself straighten at Lucinda’s assertion. Could the woman see me? Did she know?  “They are the Night Market, my dear.  That means they are in every street that winds through this realm. Every breath that you breathe.”

Not quite. But it was more than I expected from her.

“The Night Market is alive,” Hazel said. “But not my friend. Not the person that I came to know, at least.”

Lucinda sighed. “One day you will realize it was all the same thing.  You should merely feel honored for knowing them the way you do. For loving them.” Then, Lucinda’s lips twisted into something sour.  “At least that cretin did something right with his short life.”

Hazel sniffed. Shrinking in on herself.  “We don’t know if he is dead,” she whispered.

Milo. He had not shown his face for quite some time.

“If he’s not he should be.” Lucinda reached forward, pulling her into a hold. “For what he did to you. For what he did to your friend.”  I was almost certain that the ones after Milo now were at Lucinda’s behest. She was bound and determined not to let that man come back into her daughter’s life, taking any choice of the matter away from Hazel completely.

Pulling away, Hazel straightened her skirts and looked down towards the bundles of herbs she still had not dried.  “I’ll go to the market now. Maybe some fresh air will help me.”

“I think it will,” Lucinda said. “Pick up some extra powdered mushrooms while you are there. You are severely lacking in your hex bags here and the mushrooms will help the spells keep while we rebuild your clientele.”

“Yes mother.”

I followed Hazel as she went into the back room, grabbing her basket and cloak.  I didn’t know what that said about her that she was going into the market so willingly. Before, she could barely set foot down the alley.  Either way, I wanted to reach out to her. I wanted to take her hand and ask her what I could do. To tell her to rest instead of listening to her mother. She didn’t need whatever clientele Lucinda was trying to bring.

There was a crisp trill as Mr. Billows jumped down from the shelves up top. The light in Hazel’s eyes was reignited upon seeing him. “You’re alive.” Scooping the cat up in her arms, she held him close. “Oh, Billows. You’re alive. I thought mother had done something to you.”

Mr. Billows snuggled up under her chin. The cat had been missing for days now. I had a feeling it had been keeping its distance.

“You need to get out of here, Hazel,” I said tiredly, leaning against the wall. “Find Malcolm. Find Milo if it comes down to it. Hell, even just go to Belladonna. Just find anyone to make you see the lies that she is telling you. Don’t stay here.”

I was afraid. Not for the first time since walking these streets like this, was I afraid for my friends. If only I could let them know. Tell them that I would be back. It was just going to take some time.

If only I could tell Hazel.

As I watched her hold the grey cat close, I walked up to her, looping my arms around her from behind. I knew she wouldn’t feel me. That I may as well have been dead. But as I heard her soft cries into the fur, I wanted nothing more than to let her know that eventually, it would all be okay.

Resting my head on her shoulder, I swallowed thickly. “Soon,” I told her. “I’ll be home soon.”

I felt her stiffen against me, her spine going rigid as she looked up, Billows jumping from her arms. I froze.  I could hear the steady sound of her heart through the room as it sped up and she stepped from my embrace to look around.  She had heard me. She just had to.

“Hazel?” I whispered, willing her eyes to meet mine. “Hazel, honey. I’m right here. I’m right in front of you. I’ll be home soon, I promise.”

She looked right at me and my heart stopped. Briefly, I thought that maybe I had come back. Maybe the decision had been made for me and I was returning sooner than I realized.  While my job was not done I found I didn't care. I just wanted her in my arms again. To go upstairs and curl up in her bed and whisper to each other until the wisps took root in the tree once more. I wanted my life back.

But as Hazel stepped towards me, hand outstretched, she walked right through my body to something on the other side. Dissipating me and sending me back to the graveyard. Yet again, I was standing in front of my grave, the feel of her forgotten.

“I love you,” I whispered to the air.  A wisp fluttered by in response. Maybe they would go home and tell her. I just hoped she could hold on for a bit longer.