The Witch's Apprentice: Chapter 15
Bás Báta
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In chapter 14, Sarah and Lix traveled to the Cloud Isles to gather Ambergris for Bás Báta’s cracked tooth. After narrowly escaping a cloud shark, they met two eccentric, but friendly harpies who offered guidance and hinted that the veil between the worlds might be thinning. Finally, high above the highest clouds, they found the sky whales drifting through space like gentle giants swimming through a sea of stars, and secured a lump of ambergris.
Chapter 15: Bás Báta
Back in the cottage, Sarah stood at the table, studying the chunk of sky whale ambergris. The warm glow of the hearth danced across the shelves crammed with jars, herbs, and peculiar tools, casting shifting shadows around the room. She poked the ambergris tentatively, her finger barely brushing its waxy surface. Nearby, Lix hovered, his wings humming softly, the sound blending with the occasional crackle of the fire.
She rolled up her sleeves, pulling the witch’s journal closer to her. “Crush the ambergris and Shieldcaps and mix the two together,” she read aloud. “Then add the slime from the Slime Shells while stirring vigorously to create the ointment.”
Lix landed lightly on the edge of the table, peering at the ingredients with a mix of curiosity and wariness. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Not really,” Sarah admitted, grabbing the pestle from the mortar. “But the journal hasn’t failed me so far.”
She picked up the ambergris and dropped it into the mortar. It was smooth and sticky, and as she started grinding it, a faint smell filled the air—musky and salty, with a hint of something she couldn’t quite name. She wrinkled her nose.
“Ugh, it smells like rotten apples and fish,” Lix said, fluttering backward.
Sarah paused, smiling at him. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Shaking her head, she kept grinding until the ambergris broke down into a fine powder that sparkled faintly under the lantern light. She tipped it into a small bowl and reached for the Shieldcaps they’d collected in the forest on the way home. Their blue-gray tops felt cool and smooth, like polished rocks.
Using the edge of her knife, she shaved the fungi into thin slivers, watching as the pieces curled into delicate spirals. She added them to the bowl, stirring gently to mix the powders. The colors blended together, creating a swirling, opalescent sheen that reminded her of the sky whales’ glimmering scales.
Finally, she reached for the Slime Shells, their slick surfaces glistening faintly under the light. As she pierced one with the tip of her knife, a viscous green slime oozed out, clinging to the blade. The smell hit her instantly—salty and briny, with a hint of something she couldn’t quite place.
“Ew,” Lix said, peering closer. “That smells like… fish barf.”
“Fish barf?” Sarah laughed, rolling her eyes. “Now you're just being silly.”
“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” he said, holding his nose.
Ignoring him, Sarah carefully scraped the slime into the bowl. The moment it touched the ambergris and Shieldcap mixture, the powders hissed softly, dissolving into a thick, gooey substance. She stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon, watching as it transformed into a smooth, glossy paste.
“It’s done,” Sarah said, pouring the paste into a jar and sealing it tightly. She glanced out the window, where the sun hung low in the sky, its golden light already starting to fade. They didn’t have much time.
Lix perched on her shoulder, leaning over to inspect the jar. “Let’s just hope Bás Báta likes the taste of this stuff more than he likes the taste of witches.”
“Yes, let’s hope so,” Sarah said, slipping the jar into her satchel. Her eyes darted toward the dimming sky, and she took a breath, forcing a steadier grip on the strap. “Come on,” she added, adjusting the bag on her shoulder with a quick tug. “We need to get to the loch before it gets dark—or before I start second-guessing this whole plan.”
Waves crashed violently onto the shore, spray coating Sarah’s skin as Bás Báta’s colossal shell broke through the water like a jagged island. His growls reverberated across the loch, low and deep, making the ground tremble under Sarah’s feet. Overhead, thick rainclouds churned, dark and heavy, with flashes of distant lightning flickering at their edges.
Each of Bás Báta’s heavy breaths sent bursts of hot mist into the air, mixing with the cold wind and the sharp, salty smell of the loch. The sour tang of infection hung faintly in the air, making Sarah’s stomach turn. She tightened her grip on the jar, her hands clammy with sweat.
“This looks worse than I expected,” she said, her voice barely carrying over the noise.
“No kidding,” Lix said, wings buzzing erratically as he hovered beside her. “He’s mad enough to drown us. You’re sure about this plan?”
“No,” Sarah stammered. She was not sure at all. In fact, every instinct told her to get back on her broom and never come back. Was it really so important to learn about the old witch? Maybe living here for the rest of her life wasn’t so bad, and who needed the skyscrapers and noise of New York anyway? But deep down, she had to know about the witch. If there was a way home, she couldn’t just let it slip away.
“We have to do it,” she said, gripping the jar of ointment tightly as the dragon-turtle’s golden eyes turned toward them, glowing like molten metal. His jaws parted slightly, revealing jagged teeth stained with streaks of dark red.
Involuntarily, she took a step back. This wasn’t some simple animal. It was a frikin dragon, and it was pissed.
Lix perched on her shoulder, his wings flicking unevenly. “Right,” he said, his voice unusually quiet. “He’s… grumpier than I remember.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it,” Sarah muttered, her throat dry.
Lix hovered just in front of her. His tone shifted, quieter, almost careful. “He’s old. Older than anything else in this loch. Maybe older than the loch itself.”
The words carried a weight Sarah wasn’t used to hearing from him. “Pixie dragons like me…” Lix hesitated. “We’re his kin, sort of. Distant relatives. Bás Báta’s blood runs through us, even if we’ve lost most of what makes him… him.”
Sarah blinked, startled. “You’re related?”
“Sort of. He’s like an ancestor, but mostly a legend. A guardian. A monster. A king. Depends on which story you hear.” Lix let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think he’ll remember me—or care. But maybe he’ll talk to me.”
Sarah’s grip on the jar tightened. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Me neither,” Lix said, his eyes darting to Bás Báta’s claws scraping against the rocks. “But we need to get close to his tooth—somehow.”
“Wait, Lix—” Sarah called, but before she could stop him, the pixie dragon zipped forward, his glowing form darting toward Bás Báta’s massive head.
Lix’s chirping voice shifted into a deeper, melodic rhythm, a string of musical notes that echoed over the water like some kind of primeval language. Bás Báta froze, his growls quieting as he tilted his massive head slightly, golden eyes narrowing. The sharp intensity of his gaze locked on Lix, watching the tiny dragon’s every move with unnerving precision.
The dragon-turtle let out a low, guttural rumble in response, the sound rolling across the loch like distant thunder. The water rippled outward, lapping at Sarah’s boots and soaking the hem of her dress. She watched as Lix hovered just out of reach of Bás Báta’s snapping jaws, his wings beating faster as the ancient creature snarled.
“What’s he saying?” Sarah called, her voice trembling.
Lix glanced back, dodging a sudden lunge from Bás Báta’s enormous maw. “He says he doesn’t trust land-walkers!” Lix shouted, spiraling higher to avoid the dragon-turtle’s teeth. “And he’s really not in the mood for company!”
“Well, that’s just great,” Sarah muttered, clenching the jar tighter. Her eyes darted to Bás Báta’s gaping mouth, where the jagged remnants of a shattered tooth gleamed. She swallowed hard. “We need to get him to open his mouth long enough for me to apply the ointment.”
Lix darted back toward her, his tiny body trembling with adrenaline. “He won’t sit still, but I might be able to distract him—get ready to move.”
Lix shot back toward Bás Báta’s face, spiraling in wild, erratic loops. He spit tiny bursts of blue ligthning, the harmless flashes of electricity crackling like fireworks. Bás Báta roared, his massive jaws snapping at the air. The sound was deafening, a deep, bone-shaking crack that sent waves rippling across the loch.
Sarah mounted her broom, her hands slick against the handle. The wind from Bás Báta’s thrashing whipped at her hair as she hovered just above the water, her eyes fixed on his massive, gaping mouth. The shattered tooth stood out against the others, jagged and darkened with infection. Her heart pounded in her ears.
“Come on,” she whispered, watching for her moment.
Bás Báta lunged at Lix, his jaws snapping wide in a roar of pain and fury. Sarah leaned forward on the broom, darting toward his mouth. The salty tang of the loch filled her nose as she closed the distance, her eyes watering from the heat of his breath.
Her boots hit the edge of his lower jaw, and she slid slightly, catching herself on the broomstick. The jagged shards of his shattered tooth loomed inches away. The gums around it were raw and inflamed, oozing with dark fluid. The smell of infection was overpowering, making her stomach churn.
Sarah fumbled with the jar, her hands trembling as she scooped out a handful of the ointment. The slimy paste was cool and slick against her fingers as she smeared it onto the jagged tooth and inflamed gum, trying to work as quickly as she could. Bás Báta’s thrashing made the task almost impossible. His growls turned into snarls of pain, each sound vibrating through her chest.
“Lix, I need more time!” she yelled, her voice cracking over the chaos.
Before Lix could respond, Bás Báta jerked his massive head with a force that sent Sarah flying. The world tilted, and her grip on the broom slipped as she was flung through the air. She hit the ground hard at the edge of the loch, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. Pain flared in her side, but it was quickly drowned out by the roar of the dragon-turtle echoing in her ears.
She tried to move, but her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. The sound of thrashing water grew distant, fading into a low hum. The cold dampness of the loch seeped into her clothes as her vision blurred and then everything turned to darkness.
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