The Thirteenth Witch
Chapter Three
by Raine Monday

Lydia watched as Thomas spoke to the hotel clerk. There was something 'off' about the clerk, but she couldn't figure out just what. Before she could identify it, Marjory brought over two bowls of stew. "Here we go, love. I telephoned Dr. Baker, and he'll be over shortly."

"Wow, he makes... uh, inn calls?"

Marjory nodded. "He works only a few houses away. We like to keep things simple here in Willowbrook." She patted Lydia on the shoulder. Strangely, Lydia felt pins and needles where Marjory touched her. "Enjoy your dinner, love."

Lydia blinked. She was so hungry! It felt like she hadn't eaten in days.

"Got us a room," Thomas said a few moments later, setting down the key.

"That's wonderful!" Lydia said, her mouth full, juice running down her chin. She knew she must look frightful, but at the moment, she didn't care.

"Hungry, eh?" Thomas chuckled and took a bite of his stew.

"It's delicious!" Perhaps it was because they were so tired from the long, wet hike, or maybe the food had some magical ingredient, but Lydia couldn't eat it fast enough.

Before long, they both sat back, dabbing their mouths with napkins. The shadows stretched long as the couple ate and ordered seconds of the delicious stew. Lydia felt warm and full, the pain in her foot subsiding as Marjory returned, leading a middle-aged, balding man of about fifty. He had kind eyes and was rather stout.

"Someone was hungry," Marjory said, leading the man who wore a three-piece business suit to their table. "This is Dr. Baker. He can take a look at your foot, dear."

"Samuel Baker," the doctor said, extending his hand first to Thomas, then to Lydia. Lydia shook it, noting how soft and strong his hand seemed. She wondered if he was a surgeon.

"Let's look at that foot," Dr. Baker said, sliding a stool over. Lydia took the hint and set her left foot on the stool. Dr. Baker took out a pair of spectacles, then touched the soaking wet sock. "May I?"

Lydia nodded, embarrassed. The doctor tugged off the sock and examined her foot. He held it tenderly, and Lydia could again feel how soft and gentle he was.

"Any numbness or tingling?" Dr. Baker asked.

Lydia shook her head, staring at her foot. It was strange... it... didn't look like hers.

"Why is it... so wrinkled?" she asked, holding it up to the light.

"May I?" Dr. Baker asked again, indicating her right foot still in its muddy boot.

"I can do it," Thomas said, and he took her shoe in his hands and untied the laces.

"I knew you had a foot fetish, Tommy-Tom," Lydia said.

Thomas carefully eased her right foot out of the boot, then pulled off the soaked sock and set it next to her other foot.

Lydia gasped. "That... can't be possible, can it?"

They all stared at her feet. The right foot, the one that didn't hurt, looked normal. Of course, she needed to cut her toenails, but aside from a few callouses on the heel, it appeared normal. Her left foot, however, did not look normal. It was wrinkled, and veins stood out in stark relief. She also had blue nail polish on those toes—nail polish Lydia had never purchased, owned, or applied.

"Bunions," Dr. Baker said. "I'm afraid you're developing bunions."

"Surely you can see that isn't my foot," Lydia protested. "It has blue toenail polish, for God's sake!"

"It's also smaller," Thomas said, placing a hand on her right foot. The toes of her left foot didn't come close to matching it. "I think it's at least two sizes smaller."

Lydia felt a tightening in her stomach. This wasn't right; this couldn't be right!

"Doctor?" Lydia said, looking up at him.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "It's simply bunions. I'll give you some medication to ease some of the pain and write a prescription for orthotics."

"But you can see, can't you?" Thomas said, his voice rising.

Lydia shook her head. This couldn't be happening. "Look, maybe it'll be okay in the morning. Maybe it's just from being in the water; you know how skin gets wrinkly after being in the water, right?"

"Exactly," Dr. Baker said, picking up his black bag and handing her a prescription. "Take this to the shoe store on 5th. They'll fit you with an orthotic that will reduce the stress on those bones."

And with that, the doctor left the room.

***

"We need to get out of here," Thomas said. "I'll grab our packs and meet you by the door."

Lydia nodded, glancing outside. During their meal, dusk had turned to night. People walked the streets of Willowbrook, smiling and happy. It was like a town from a different era. People even dressed differently; the women wore dresses, the men in more formal attire. She wondered if they'd stepped through some kind of time portal.

As she waited, she sat down, wanting to pull on her sock and get her foot back in her boot. She could see her changed foot. It felt... well, the same, though the skin felt wrinkled. She ran her fingers over the veins along the top of her foot and stopped.

Her right hand... the index fingernail had extended a bit and had taken on the same nail polish as her foot.

"No, no, no, no, this can't be happening!" She held up her hands, looking at her palms and then the backs. Sure enough, her right hand had slightly different coloration, and as she watched, the nails were slowly extending. Quickly, she pulled on her sock and attempted to stick her foot into her boot. She was rushing, though, so of course, her foot didn't slip in properly. She had to take it out again, loosen the laces, and place it in. The foot slid in easily, a bit too easily.

It was too small for the boot.

"Dammit!" she said, pulling the laces as tight as she could. She quickly tied her shoes, fighting a bit with her changing hand as the nails didn't want to cooperate.

Where was Thomas? She looked up, hoping to see him running back to her with their packs, but he appeared to be in an argument with the clerk or something.

"Leave them!" she called to Thomas, who nodded and rolled his eyes but then quickly walked back to her.

"Babe," she said, "It's still happening." She held up her altered right hand. The beginnings of veins could be seen on the back of her hand, and as they watched, the skin began to wrinkle.

"Can you walk?" Thomas asked.

"I think so!" Lydia said as they made their way to the door. Just as they were about to open the huge oaken front door, Marjory stepped out.

"Leaving so soon?" she said, a wide smile on her face.

"Please let us pass!" Lydia said. "We don't want... whatever is going on here."

"The boy can go," Marjory said. "He doesn't have any shine to him. The only reason he's here at all, love, is because you do."

"Well, I don't want whatever it is you're selling," Lydia said. She held up her still-changing hand. "What is happening to me?"

Marjory nodded. "I knew from the moment I saw you that you belonged here in Sælicbrook. Don't fret, dear; the Emergence happens much quicker if you allow it."

"No!" Thomas shouted. "We're out!" Thomas attempted to shove his way through, but Marjory was as immovable as a post.

She sighed. "They always resist, don't they, David?"

From behind them, the 'clerk' nodded. He no longer looked like a clerk but wore a black cape, and his hair had darkened. He gave them a grin, and two long canines extended.

"Indeed, Miss."

Marjory sighed. "Take them to their room, if you would, dear?"

With a flicker of motion, David spun Thomas and took his face in his palms.

"Thomas!" Lydia screamed. She feared he would snap his neck.

"Sleep," David said, and Thomas slumped. Effortlessly, David took Thomas by the collar and turned to Lydia.

"No!" Lydia said, trying to turn away. "I—"

"Sleep," David intoned, and something about the way he said it echoed in her brain. Her lids slid shut, even though something inside her writhed against his gaze, something that forced her feet not to move, her body not to collapse.

"Ahh, a strong one," Marjory said. "I knew it."

David whispered then, directly in Lydia's ear. "Slllleeeeeeeeppp."

And that was all Lydia remembered.

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