Salem's Witches (Neitherlands Book 1), page 14
Laura’s eyes widened as she remembered to whom the voice belonged.
“And now this other one comes to ask me to try this here, assuring me it will work… What do women know of science anyway? Sure this has worked in my lab and blown as expected, but will it work here? Will it blow up? No it won’t, I’m sure. It’s too public a place and, well, it just won’t work. Still, here goes nothing I guess…”
In an instant Laura grabbed her friends and pushed them to the floor. They didn’t seem to like her sudden aggressiveness but they could do nothing, having been taken unaware.
Then the wall blew up.
Laura was impressed the experiment had worked. She wouldn’t have expected the man behind it to ever attain any kind of success in his field of work.
Apparently said man also wasn’t expecting any success because the first thing she heard after the explosion was Atoms screaming excitedly and, she guessed, running around the place celebrating.
Once the dust settled she had the chance to see him, indeed, running around.
“Yeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” said the man, in what was definitely not an attempt to make this scene somewhat longer by using weirdly elongated words.
Laura wiped a few pieces of debris off herself, then made sure her friends were in good shape. Once she confirmed they hadn’t been killed or maimed by the exploding wall, she walked out through the newly opened hole.
Atoms gaped the moment he saw her. He then ran and hugged her. “Miss Laura!” he said, seemingly unable to understand the rudeness in hugging people without their permission. “What a surprise, finding you here! Did you see my experiment? It worked, Miss Laura, it worked!”
Laura tried to get the little man’s hands off her to no avail. “I saw it, Atoms. May I ask what brought you to do it here, of all places? Not that I’m not glad we can escape this little hell hole. I just find this a little…convenient.”
“Oh, she told me to do it!” Atoms let go of Laura and stared at the buildings beyond the fortress grounds. “Where is she now? She told me I had to try that experiment here, that it would work, and it did! You should meet her, Miss Laura!”
Laura tried to help Atoms find the mystery person, but saw nobody nearby. The area was deserted.
“Who are you looking for?” said Sarah, who had just left the cell and joined them.
“This woman. She told me to come. She was pretty, and tall. She had weird hair, too.”
“Weird hair? What does weird hair mean?”
“Like…worms? I know, it sounds weird, but it reminded me of worms.”
“What else did she look like?”
“Pretty. Like a crow.”
“Like a…”
“She reminded me of one.”
Veronika and Sarah joined them and all four of them stared into the distance for a moment.
“We should go,” said Laura. “We shouldn’t stay long in these grounds. The guards are probably on their way. I don’t think there’s a chance they didn’t hear the explosion…”
The witches went into the cell to gather their belongings, which of course weren’t many, and left again. As soon as they started walking away from fortress grounds, Atoms stopped them again.
“Wait!” he said, with a huge smile still on his face. “There’s something else!”
Laura turned around. “What is it?”
“This woman…” he said, as if trying to remember something difficult. “She said she had a message for whoever was in the cell.”
“And what was it?” Laura couldn’t think of a single reason why a random woman would send them a message. Not a single good one, at least, and it struck her as weird that an enemy would set them free only to chase them and kill them later.
On second thought, it wasn’t that weird. Just sick and sadistic, but entirely possible in New Wakilork.
Atoms squinted then tilted his head to one side. It was clear the little man didn’t have the best of memories. “She said…” He gasped, then smiled again. “Yes, I remember! She said… Dead women inhabit House Xantiplam.”
“Dead…” said Laura, then she got it. A glance at her friends confirmed that they, too, had got it. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course. It made no sense at all, since House Xantiplam isn’t a cemetery…not that I’ve ever been there, mind you! But that’s what she said, I remember it well.”
“And you’re sure it was House Xantiplam?” said Veronika.
The man answered by bobbing his head.
Laura looked at Veronika, who couldn’t keep herself from grinning, then at Sarah. “Do we agree about or next destination?” she said.
“What about…” said Sarah. “What about Salem?”
“We can see to him later,” said Veronika. “He’s not our lead. He is many, many things considering we haven’t heard from him at all since we got jailed, but he’s not our lead right now. Let’s go after the lead first, then after that little man. After all, if we get Annabella to testify, we could get the Dominatrix to believe us—”
“Not that she’s likely to be glad to see us now that we’ve escaped jail,” said Laura.
“Still, she’ll have to give us an audience. Plus, if we prove Quackology is involved in this, we could win back our freedom—”
“A long shot with the Xantiplam, but I guess it is our best bet,” said Laura.
Veronika and Laura stared at Sarah. She didn’t seem all that convinced, but after a few second assented too.
Taking their first free steps in weeks, the witches walked into a city that had kept moving while they were jailed. They couldn’t know how much it had changed, although had they taken a moment to study the advertisements in the nearby buildings, they would have noticed one little thing:
Most of the buildings contained huge posters advertising Quackology.
During her time in prison, Sarah had forgotten just how noisy and bustling the city could be, particularly on a Sunday morning. This meant that what she had expected would be a mostly quiet walk through the city became an adventure where they had to constantly try to mix into crowds, hide from any guards lest they know they were escapees, and do their best to blend in with New Wakilork’s denizens.
It was only a blessing that they were, after weeks in jail, as dirty and disheveled as could be. It gave them the perfect disguise to pass incognito on the many street markets and other crowds they found. Their trek was, therefore, mostly uneventful and at times boring, even when they had the added thrill of being back in the city as criminals at large.
Until they reached the one market.
As everyone knows, markets are where people sell things. Street markets are in fact known for having people selling about everything one can think of, making them a haven for old ladies looking for a bargain.
In this particular market, they found somebody selling religion. A very specific religion.
It began when Sarah noticed a particularly thick crowd gathered around a small stage. Being a fan of demonstration of magical products that will make your life this much easier, she nudged her friends and they joined the crowd, waiting to be amazed by whatever it was the cute kid on the stage was to sell them.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he said, “How many of you have ever felt despair and been lost in a world that offers many challenges and few rewards?”
Those were pretty big words for a child. The kind of words that seemed designed to make the audience go awww at the precociousness of such a cute kid.
“Awww,” said Sarah as she heard the kid. They were her weak spot.
“Well, I’ve brought you all the salvation to your aimless lives! It’s here in New Wakilork, and it’s called Quackology!”
The kid may as well have sprouted tentacles and a thousand teeth, for Sarah no longer considered him at all cute. Nevertheless she stayed, because of course they needed to know what our favorite church was up to.
The kid went to the back of the stage, where an old man handed him a book. He returned to the front and displayed it proudly: It was a copy of Scametics. “In this book lies the key to living a long, fulfilling life free of the pitfalls of the daily living of the Neitherlands. Not only that, but it also teaches us to rise against the one evil keeping us tied and in pain every day! It is a must read, and so easy to understand that even I, at barely ten years, have read it!”
A murmur passed through the crowd. From what Sarah could hear, many people felt disgusted the kid was asking for money without at least performing a decent act first.
“So, you’re just trying to sell us a book under the pretense of salvation, is that it? You want our money without giving us a reason to part with it!” said Veronika. Of course she’d be the one to take advantage of the crowd’s perceived thoughts.
Immediately the murmur changed from one of disgust to one of suspicion. A few voices were raised, doubting the intentions of the child, and soon enough others also felt as if the crowd was lashing out at the kid, who just stood there apparently having no clue what to do.
“Wait up!” said Sarah, after distancing herself a bit from her friends. “Why do we attack this child? Sure he’s but a kid. This can’t be his doing. I’m sure this has all been planned by the man back there, who uses a child to try and take money away from us!”
The play worked. Immediately the crowd’s comments switched from calling the kid names to calling the older man behind him names. The man, unlike the child, didn’t seem fazed. Instead he called the child, spoke to him, then sent him back.
“People!” said the kid, trembling. “I’m not here to scam you or take your money, I just wanted to share my source of happiness with you! Is it so bad?”
A good portion of the crowd calmed down. A few rowdy voices remained, but they were quickly shushed by other, less heartless people, who couldn’t possibly allow a poor child to be booed, not when he was letting them know he wasn’t bad after all.
Just to clarify, the kid wasn’t bad. He was just being used by bad people, as often happens with children.
“Now, I just came here to let you people know what it is that makes me so happy, because I think you all deserve happiness! And this, this that happened…it was all Xianuu’s doing!”
Whispering overtook the crowd again.
“Who’s that Xianuu?” someone yelled.
“He’s the architect of everything wrong with our world, that he is!” said the kid. “The one that fills us with hatred and pain! Aren’t you tired of always being the same, working every hour and every day for little to no pay? That’s Xianuu’s fault, it is! And with Quackology we hope to destroy Xianuu and turn this world into a haven!” The kid walked to the edge of the stage and stared at a woman. “Does it not sound good, missus?”
The woman seemed taken aback for a moment. “Xianuu sounds horribly like my boss, child!” she said. “Is he my boss?”
“Not your boss, missus, not your boss! But he is your boss’s boss! If we beat Xianuu, you won’t have a mean boss, not anymore, no sir! You won’t even need a boss, the Neitherlands will be a place of happiness where no one has to work! We’ll make this place prosper!”
To say that the crowd grew excited could be considered an understatement. After all, what crowd doesn’t grow excited at the prospect of never having to work a day in their lives?[20] Nobody screamed due to excitement, but certainly an air of anticipation grew and it became clear that most people were waiting for the kid to tell them more.
“Tell us more!” a lone voice in the crowd yelled once the silence became unbearable.
“Quackology helps us walk in the path to enlightenment, it does!” The kid went back to the center of the stage. “But today I’m here to tell you about something special. Something big and important, yet I must start with asking you all a question: How many of you have children? Lil’ ones like me?”
Most of the people gathered raised their hands—it was uncommon in New Wakilork for people to reach a certain age without having children, particularly among commoners.
“Well, for them, and only for them, the Church of Quackology has opened a special program. For you see, the sooner in life we get started on our path to enlightenment the better our chances of reaching it. It is much easier for a child to attain Clarity than it is for an adult. And with this in mind, the Church of Quackology is starting a Sunday Program for children. While parents attend conferences at our HQ, we kids can attend Quackology School all day and get a head start on our path. This is a free service for all our members.”
A part of the crowd cheered. In New Wakilork, having a place where parents could drop their children all day for free while they tended to other issues was unheard of. It was almost a revolutionary idea.
“What will they do in Quackology School?” said a woman with a child in her arms. “And how young or old can they be?”
“As soon as they can speak they can join. And there we are taught about Quackology! They help us become clear, they do, and I can attest to this for I have attained Clarity at the tender age of ten years. It might sound boring, but it isn’t, for the path to enlightenment is never boring. Being on it is a blessing, not a burden.”
“Do kids join the church automatically once they become adults?” asked a man.
“There’s a donation they must make once they reach sixteen!” The kid tried to show them the number by raising his fingers. He didn’t have that many. “But it’s not a charge to join us, no. You see mister, it is to show that the young one cares for and understands how much the church spent on him. It symbolizes that, nothing else, and it’s nothing too big that parents can’t save up for if they start early enough.”
A new whisper went through the crowd: while free childcare was a great idea, having to pay for it with an undisclosed sum when the kid turned sixteen seemed unwise to some of those present. Specifically to the more intelligent ones.
The kid exchanged stares with the man at the back for a moment, then went back to the crowd. “But think of it this way, don’t you all want what’s best for your children? Is there anything better than salvation?”
The crowd grew silent.
“I thought so. So, is there such a thing as a price too high for salvation? There isn’t, my dear people. There just isn’t one. I am grateful my parents have me in it, I do, for it means I’ll be happier in life than most regular people.”
“That doesn’t explain that man back there giving you orders!” said Veronika. “It seems to me he’s just using you to get people to join him.”
The man stared at her and said nothing.
“He’s only here as a guardian, madame,” said the kid after another quick stare at the man. “I’m here out of my own vo-lee-shun. He’s here for the city is dark and full of terrors. Quackology helps burn them away but it is still dangerous for a kid like me to walk alone. Do not mind him, he’s only here for my safety.”
The seed of doubt having been planted again, several of those in the crowd raised their voices. “What does the man have to say about Quackology?” said a man. “And why couldn’t he, a grownup, come and tell us about it?”
The kid stared at both the man who asked the question and the one at the back of the stage, seemingly lost.
“Is this what kids do while in Quackology school?” said a woman. “I do not want my children spending their Sundays on marketplace stages selling Quackology. Better have them work the land. I can reap benefits from that. And traveling the city with an unknown man, it seems dangerous.”
The kid stood in the center of the stage, frozen, staring at everyone.
“Hey kid, are you being paid to do this?” asked another person. “What kind of degenerate uses children to make people join a cult, I must ask?”
The crowd grew louder and louder, with more questions being raised each second. Soon enough they evolved from reasonable questions into unreasonable ones and then further into batshit-insane-questions-nobody-should-ask territory.
Perhaps in an attempt to regain those the kid might have convinced to join, the man stepped onto the stage. “Stop this!” he said. “I have come here only to help my little friend let you all know about the goodness of Quackology. Is it so bad that a kid wants to share his faith and the secret of his happiness with everyone? Are you all so angry that you will pass up a kid’s statement about how he is finding happiness and purpose in life?”
The crowd calmed down just a bit, with yells slowly turning into whispers.
“Shame on you and anyone who would ever doubt not just me or the Church of Quackology, but the innocence of this very child who asked me to accompany him here! Have we devolved so much under the power of Xianuu as to see evil even on a child?”
The crowd went nearly silent, although the tension remained. It would have likely dissolved then hadn’t Veronika, in her usual impulsiveness, taken off one of her shoes and thrown it at the man. The black high heel hit him on the face, drawing blood. Moreover, the action hit the crowd right on the spot, finally luring out the monster of the angry mob that had lurked around for a while. The screams resumed immediately as people started throwing things and fighting anything and anyone around them just for the sake of it.
Within an instant, the market was no longer a market but one of the many street rows New Wakilork was known for. Those selling wares gathered their things and left almost immediately, showing the kind of dexterity only a lifetime of having to pick up your things quickly before somebody thinks of using them as weapons can give you. After a minute no vendors remained, only a huge mob of people interested in fighting anything on their path.
As Sarah found herself in the middle of it, doing her best to avoid being hurt and trying not to hurt others out of common decency, there was only one thing going through her mind:
“It feels good to be home.”
8
Before we move ahead, there’s one little detail that should be cleared up: A few scenes back Veronika couldn’t keep herself from grinning like a maniac at the mention of Annabella Bostwick working in House Xantiplam.
