Black Blood

The woman pushes a jar into my hand as she starts walking towards the counter again. I am interested in this woman and her vast amount of knowledge. Although I am part witch, I have never used it. Being a Night Rider is part element, wind and air in my case. Having immortality in terms of age, being able to give and take life at a certain level and everything a mage can do. The only thing I have used is the element control part, I have never performed a spell.

‘Come, come.’ The woman waves her hand through the air. With swift steps, my heels slide across the floor in her direction, leaving a tapping sound on the wooden planks. I stand in front of the woman. She starts to turn open the jars and fill the bags with the spoon. I follow all her movements with my eyes, taking them in. Her trembling wrinkly fingers do not let a leaf fall off the spoon.

‘Where is the journey going?’ the woman asks without looking up.

‘The Andes.’ She nods slowly as she folds up the second bag and puts it away on the right-hand side of the counter.

‘Would you like to know how your journey is going to go?’ I look at the woman as if she has asked me if I can talk to animals. Of course I would like to know if I am going to reach the blood mountain in time.

‘Of course.’ A small smile appears on the woman’s lips. She fills the last bag and folds it. She puts the bag to one side with the others. Her hand reaches under the counter and comes back up with a wooden bowl. The bowl is almost identical to the one used at Asa’s coronation. She places the bowl in front of her on the counter.

‘Darling, could you get the Montsechia vidalii from the third shelf.’ The woman stretches out her wrinkled hand to another cabinet full of jars. I look at her in surprise for a moment before I start walking towards the cabinet. I have no idea what a Montsechia vidalii is or how I should pronounce it. If she says it must be somewhere on the third shelf here, I suppose it is.

I stop walking as soon as I am standing in front of the cupboard. My eyes glide over the pots. Most of the names on the labels I don’t know or couldn’t pronounce. Whereas the other cupboard was mainly full of coloured flowers and herbs, this one is full of green plants.

My eyes stop at a jar with a green water plant-looking contents. Montsechia vidalii is what the label says. I take the jar from the shelf and walk back to the woman with it.

By now she has put several things next to or in the bowl. Next to the bowl is a small knife, a bottle with a purple-looking liquid and a bag of coloured herbs. In the bowl there is a small layer of transparent liquid, which I assume is water. I place the jar with Montsechia vidalii on the counter in front of the bowl. She nods approvingly and picks up the jar.

‘What is it?’ I ask curiously. A small smile appears on the woman’s wrinkled lips. She opens the lid of the jar and takes out a few green plants. She puts the pot back on the counter with her one hand and starts to pull the plants apart with her two hands. Small pieces of the green plants fall into the water in the bowl. I watch her slow movements with fascination. My thoughts are empty.

‘Montsechia vidalii is the oldest plant species in the world. It carries a lot of magic and knowledge that we can no longer use or have. You need history to see the future.’ I have only been in this shop for a short time, but the woman has already taught me so many life lessons that my mind can no longer keep up with them. I would like to have as much knowledge as this woman before me. She seems to know every plant species by name, function, growth and smell. It is fascinating to say the least.

As soon as she has laid out all the things in front of her, she extends her hand to me. The palm of her hand points towards the wooden ceiling, her thin wrinkled fingers extended towards me.

‘Can I take your hand, darling?’ A bit doubtful, I place my hand in the woman’s. Her skin feels wrinkly, soft and warm.

‘I need to take a few drops of blood from you.’ She picks up the knife, which she had earlier placed next to the bowl, from the counter. She turns my palm upwards and brings my hand above the bowl. Slowly she brings the knife towards my fingers. She puts the tip of the blade against my index fingers and gently presses it into my skin.

At first, I look away until the woman doesn’t react for a few seconds. My gaze slides to my hand. My eyes enlarge and my breath falters. You would expect to see my red blood running from the small wound, but it is not. I pull my hand out of the woman’s and bring my finger closer to my sight. I wipe the blood from my finger hoping that it is my sight that betrays me but that does not seem to be the case.

The second drop of blood is also black. I look away from my finger in total confusion. I have never heard of black blood, let alone seen it. My eyes slide to the old woman in front of me. Her eyes are neutral, her posture relaxed.

‘Honey have you read the paper?’ she asks. I shake my head slowly. I have my finger folded in my hand. The woman bends down and not much later comes up with a newspaper in her hand. She puts the newspaper on the counter in front of me and points to the main page.

Night Rider cursed with black blood.

My eyes slide over the words several times before I begin to comprehend what it says. My father has cursed me, Viko and Tristan with black blood. Anyone who sees my blood or theirs will immediately know who we are. It is the perfect way to find us even faster. I swallow.

‘I...I. Uuhm.’ I don’t know what to say. The woman takes the newspaper from the counter and puts it back where it came from.

‘Don’t worry dear, I’m not going to spend you. On the contrary, I want to teach you something.’ I look at the woman in surprise.

‘Why?’ I ask before I can think about it. I don’t understand why all the people I meet want to help me when I am the daughter of the biggest murderer in the world. The woman smiles slightly.

‘I don’t think you should judge anyone by their origins. When you entered the shop I had a suspicion, when I saw your blood I knew for sure. Still, you didn’t give me the impression that you were up to something. Your shocked reaction to the newspaper report tells me that you were not even aware. You don’t give me any reason to see you as a danger.’ This is the same reason the previous alpha gave me. Clearly, I have a different appearance than my father. I smile slightly at the woman.

‘Thank you,’ I murmur softly. She holds out her hand to me again. For a moment, I look at the hand without giving any reaction. Finally, I put my hand back in hers.

‘Call me Nelly darling,’ she presses gently on my finger, squeezing a drop of blood from the small wound. The black drop slowly slides through my skin into the bowl. The black mixes with the water and slowly fades away.

She silently takes the bags of coloured herbs and flowers from the counter, opens the bags and drops the contents into the bowl. She then takes the bottle with the purple liquid, removes the cap and pours the contents into the bowl. She puts her index and middle finger into the bowl.

Slowly, she makes several circles in the liquid. My eyes follow her movements with fascination. Her eyes slide from the bowl to me. She extends her clean hand to me. I put my hand in her hand like the two times before. Her two fingers, which she had earlier in the bowl, she places in the middle of the palm of my hand. A shiver runs down my spine, my muscles stiffen. The woman’s eyes close for a moment.

In one swift movement, the woman’s eyes open. I expect to see something, although I do not know what. What I certainly did not expect to see was pity and fear. She sees my future, at least that is what I think.

She pulls her fingers away from my hand. I look at the woman in surprise and expectantly. Her eyes look at me in silence, with a heavy expression that makes me hold my breath. I want to ask what she saw but something inside me stops me. The woman visibly swallows and takes the bowl from the counter. She wants to turn around but seems to have second thoughts. She turns to me and looks straight into my eyes.

‘Be aware of the steps you say, think carefully before you make choices that will come back to haunt you later.’