Madame Natasha's Wagon
Dark. Very, very dark. The Khatta seems to prefer to keep the lights low in her somber wagon. The walls are draped in black fabric with arcane silvery symbols. In the center of the wagon sits a round table that's about enough to seat three people around it. In the center of the table rests a crystal ball. A few feet behind the table hangs another sheet of dark fabric, presumably for keeping her bedding and personal items away from prying eyes.

It's late afternoon and the sunlight is starting to fade as Olivia finds herself back in town and at the gypsy camp. Some of the more helpful members showed here where Natasha's wagon moved recently. And when she finds it, she finds the door is open. Natasha doesn't even notice her entering; she's sitting in the back of the wagon, shrouded by shadows. In her hands is what looks like a degrading notebook or journal. The cover design was probably once brilliant with colors and patterns, but now it's blackened and faded. Natasha seems entranced by the book, turning pages slowly.

Olivia knocks gently on the frame of the wagon's door, to alert Natasha to her presence without startling her. "Um… Madame Natasha?" she asks quietly. "Is it all right to come in?"

The Khatta sits up suddenly, in spite of the attempt to be gentle about it. The book snaps shut and disappears from view almost immediately. Natasha then slides herself around to face Olivia. She reaches up and rubs at her eyes briefly, then nods, saying, "It is all right, Miss Veaver. Please, enter. Vhat brings vou here?"

Olivia enters and closes the door behind her, to give them both privacy. Then she hesitates, scratching at one ear nervously. When she finally speaks again, she says, "This is not the reason I came back, but I thought you might want to know this first. Zahnrad, the Kadie you met at the dam… he, uh, knows about your prophecy now. We tried to keep it from him but there was this situation and… well, he made us tell him."

The Khatta doesn't appear overly concerned by this. she shrugs softly and comments, "I didn' expect vou vould keep it from him anyvay. Such t'ings tend to not remain quiet long. Vhat comes, comes. Ve, of course, vill be blamed for it."

Olivia scratches her ear again. "Yeah, this thing sure didn't stay silent. But I thought you should be told, in case you run into Zahn again for some reason and he starts asking you a lot of questions. I'd hate for him just to barge into the camp unannounced and rile everyone up. He and Gunther both seem to have a knack for that… "

Natasha actually makes a snort at that. "Ve can take care of ourselves, child. I haf being doing so longer den you be livin," she comments dryly. She moves a bit further into the light and it becomes more obvious how haggard she looks. "So, vhat did vou vant? Vou said varning us vasn't de reason."

Olivia raises her eyebrows just a fraction at the sight of the Khatta and thinks, Funny, but you don't seem to be taking care of yourself right now. Then, taking hold of all her courage, she says softly, "I wanted to know, how did you gain the ability to see into the future? Was it something you were born with… or did you have it put upon you by someone else?"

Natasha waves her hand slightly. Ripples of blue flame twist and curl around them. "Child, I deal vith de spirit vorld. Dis land is ripe vith de spirits of de past and dey also affect de future. After a vhile, vell, dey start to affect vou. Dey tell me t'ings, or show me t'ings," she says. "An, it began a long time ago."

Olivia watches the blue flames wrap themselves around the Khatta's fingers as she digests this information. "If the spirits have their own world to exist in, then why would they want to affect the future here? Are they lonely for us? Bored where they are? Or is it really a desire to help the people here, to do good? And I would like to hear your story about how you got this power… um, if you don't mind, that is," the Skeek adds hurriedly, blushing a bit at her own babble.

Natasha sits up at this and looks intently at Olivia for a moment. A very long, uncomfortable, five minutes staring, and she says, "My past is not s subject for discussion, Miss Veaver. It is my own business. Please, do not ask dat again." She then waves her hand and sits back, "As for spirits, dey are de echoes of what were, repeating events they saw. Dat energy can influence the present. Affect it. This land has seen much sorrow, so de energy in it reflects dat and continues it."

Olivia doesn't seem to mind the silence before the Khatta breaks it; she merely looks resigned and even nods to herself once. "Then pardon my asking, Madame Natasha. You know the old saying – if a Skeek asks you a hundred questions, consider yourself lucky that it wasn't a thousand." She thinks for a moment or two about what the Khatta has said about the spirits before continuing, "You know, Zahn told Amy and me that he lost a brother some years ago. This is pure speculation on my part, but I wonder if he's one of the spirits telling you things about Zahn?"

"Mmm, perhap'," Natasha considers it, then nods quietly. "Perhap he was tryin to warn of some evil intentions. But, vho vould have intentions against dis Zahnrad, hmm? Does he have enemies?"

Olivia considers this question, frowning. "Well, the Weavers sure don't dislike him – they want him around to fix all the demonic looms! He also told us that members of his own clan fight amongst themselves, but I don't think one of them really wants to harm him. Just embarrass him, maybe. And I don't know the whole story about this, but he did steal the clothes of some people in the town because they were annoying him and Amy. They had to run through the woods and back to their homes naked, I think." Involuntarily, she grins at the mental image this brings up. "Still, would that be any reason to want him dead?"

Natasha snorts and shakes her head. "Children often don' know the righ' response for the actions," she notes. "But no, I don' t'ink those vere de ones. The force was huge, black, strong. A fighter. It vished his death."

Olivia lapses into silence for long minutes, trying to dredge up an image of anyone or anything she knows of that fits Natasha's description. At last, she sighs. "I honestly don't know," she admits. "There are folks I have seen who are dark-furred, sure, but huge, and fighters? And connected to Zahn? Unless… it's a force we don't know much about yet," she adds, thinking suddenly of the creatures with the bladed claws that they keep finding hints of, but never actually seeing.

"Vell, velcome to my life, Miss Veaver," Natasha notes dryly. "If I had de answers, I could stop it. But, I don'. Dark an furred coul' even be vour friend, Amelia, or perhaps her family. Vhich, I imagine vou vill tell me isn' likely either."

Olivia grins a little, mostly at herself. "You imagine correctly – well, at least about Amelia. Truth be told, I don't know all that much about the rest of her family." She sighs and rubs her temples. "I guess I'm just going to have to think on this more, or ask Amy for help. Perhaps she knows something about a big, black force that wants Zahn dead."

Natasha lets out a short chuckle, then nods. "You know, I'm surprised by something, Miss Veaver," she notes.

Olivia's grin gets wider. "And I'm surprised that you haven't thrown me out by now for demanding all this information… but please, tell me what surprises you?"

"That vou never suggested it would be us, or me. Look at me. I am black, am I not? I am large, am I not?" Natasha suggests, watching Olivia with mild curiosity.

Olivia stares back at the Khatta, raising her eyebrows ever-so-slightly again. "Yes, both of those things are true. And you also seem to be a fighter, from what I could tell when Gunther surprised you at the dam. However, why would you wish the death of someone you barely know? What has he done to you that would make you feel that you had to be rid of him?"

Natasha smiles at that. "Few vould ask those questions, child, they vould just assume. That does vou credit. I've had my fair share of dealing vith narrow minds. Haf vou ever heard of Vitch Hunters, child?" she asks.

Olivia gives Natasha a quizzical look. "Are those people who hunt for evil witches, to try and stop them from doing harm?" she asks, not quite comprehending.

"No child," Natasha says and intertwines her fingers. "It is a group of people who believe very highly in themselves and feel dat only dey have de right to use magic. Dey come from a 'college', and hunt down those vho use magic without their 'approval'. They can join dem, or they may be destroyed by dem. It doesn' matter if de 'vitch' uses magic for good, if dey aren't a member, dey can be hunted. De vitches here vould be a target. I vould be a target."

Olivia's mouth forms a silent "oh" and for a fleeting moment, she looks horrified. Then she bursts out, "B-but that's not fair! Why kill an innocent witch if she's only trying to help her people, or her village?"

"It no a matter of fair. It a matter o' power, child. An dey vish to vield all de power," Natasha replies and shrugs lightly. "Often, de side of 'evil' just be de side opposite of vou. De Vitch Hunters see those people as people tryin' to lord over others, an lack proper trainin'. Dey feel it dere duty to instruct wayward souls."

Olivia mutters, "Offering training is one thing, but to deal in death if it is refused is insanity. Still, I'm glad you told me about this, Madame Natasha. I'll be keeping certain words to myself whenever tourists pass through. Thank goodness I've never said anything about our witches to a tourist before now!"

"Vell, vou should feel safe in dat dey haven't sent any to Sylvania in a long, long time, child," Natasha notes and waves her hand. "The last ones vere all killed. So, dey stay away now. I jus' point dem out because a lot o' people in dis world have such a narrow view. Dey is right, vou is wrong, no questions."

Olivia looks grim. "I know a few of such people," she says quietly. "I guess that's why I'm always looking at things from different angles – I don't want to wind up like them. Well, that and the fact you won't attract many customers if you take a narrow view of things." She smiles briefly. "My aunt has taught me well."

Natasha chuckles at that. "Now, is dere anything else I kin help you with today?" she asks.

Olivia shakes her head. "No, I don't think there is. I'll just have to take what you told me back to Amy and Zahn and see what they have to say about a black force. If I can get their attention, that is… there's quite a lot going on in Zahn's clan at present. Thank you, though."

Natasha nods. "Well, they do seem to attract trouble according to de tribe, ves," she notes, leaning back heavily in her chair again. She considers something, then says, "And child, please, do not vorry about vitch hunters, or go talkin' about dem, all right? The last one I know of dat was in Sylvania, vell, I dealt vith … permanently. I t'ink dey consider this land a lost cause now."

Olivia shivers. "Fine by me – although I'm sorry a Witch Hunter put you in that position. It just seems… scary to me to have to take another person's life. Even if your own was in danger. Not that I probably wouldn't try to do the same thing if there was good cause, but it would have to be a very good cause." She moves to the door then and says over her shoulder, "But, as you say, I won't go spreading tales about them either."

"Ves, well, I vill speak no more on that," Natasha notes. And on that, the door opens … and Olivia finds herself staring into the stomach of something really, really, big.

Olivia squeaks in alarm and tries to slam the door shut!

And a big hand attached to said person stops it. "Is dis person bothering you, Madame?" comes a gruff, booming, voice. And from several feet above her, a dark wolven face is looking down at Olivia. Natasha just sighs and this and waves her hand, "No, Bravil. She is a guest. Let her by and for de love of all, quit scaring her."

"Yes, please," Olivia says breathlessly, feeling as if she's just run a mile. "No more surprises! I've had quite a few already and I can't take much more!"

The wolf snorts and steps into the room and around Olivia. "Vou look ill, Madame," he says and actually goes to her side, then kneels. It looks rather odd ot have a hulking wolf looking over a Khatta, who now looks very small. She just waves her hands and says, "It is just visions, Bravil. I will be fine. Please, do not worry."

Something clicks in Olivia's startled brain and she thinks, Ah-hah! That's why she looks so tired. Aloud, however, she says quietly, "I did not know the visions took so much out of you physically, Madame Natasha. If you need anything, please let me know?"

"They don't, it's the stress an fear … " Natasha starts to say, then waves her hands, trying to shoo Olivia off. "It no your concern, child. You no of de tribe." The wolf grunts agreement to this and says, "It be tribe business, not vours, be gone." And for that, Natasha hits him lightly, admonishing, "Be polite."

"I've been hearing quite a lot of that lately," Olivia says cryptically, sighing and looking just a little sad. "Yet in any case, be well, and thank you, Madame Natasha." With that, she curtsies her way out the door and into the early evening shadows.

And as Olivia heads outside the wagon, the door shuts behind her. Above her, the sky is in turmoil, the clouds rolling and he sound of thunder echoing every few minutes. Yes, it looks like it's going to be a fun night, indeed.