Free 8 Gone is the Witch by Dana E. Donovan Page B

watched curiously, as I pulled eight pellets from my pocket and spilled them out on the bar. “Here you go. Eight difermium pellets. Oh, and ahm...” I pulled the last one from my pocket and tossed it into the pile. “A little tip for you.”
    Tony pointed to the peculiar crystals. “Where’d you get those?”
    I shook my head. “That’s not important.”
    He turned to Ursula. “Where did she get those?”
    “From the merchants what giv ith us their robes.”
    “ You stole money from those street vendors?”
    “Stole?” I dismissed the serious sound of the accusation with a wave. “Stole carries such a negative connotation. Besides, can you consider it stealing if they gave it to us willingly?”
    “It wasn’t willin gly if you used a whisper box.”
    “And it isn’t stealing if there’s no law against it.”
    “No law? Lilith, stealing is stealing wherever you are. It’s not right.”
    “Nothing is right in this place. This isn’t earth. Here it’s every man for himself.”
    “And woman,” said Ursula.
    “And barkeep !”
    We turned and found Tiny standing behind the bar, cradling a twenty-inch machete to his barrel chest. “Now who’s paying for the glasses?”
    I shot him a classic bite me look. “What do you mean? You asked for eight difermium pellets; I gave you eight difermium pellets. Plus a tip.”
    “That was for the drinks.”
    “That’s all we ordered?”
    “I need four more for the glasses.”
    “What glasses?”
    “The four you drank out of. There’s a rental fee on them. One difermium pellet each.”
    “Are you nuts?”
    Carlos kicked his barstool out from under his butt and drew his bolo. “He’s trying to scam us.”
    The two patrons sitting at the bar several seats away kicked their stools out, drew their swords and began circling behind us. Tony stood, directed Ursula and me between him and Carlos and trained his bayonet on the two patrons. Fearing things were spiraling out of control; I decided to take matters into my own hands.
    I stepped out onto the floor, pointed at two of the empty tables and then snapped my fingers. Both tables and their chairs went flying. They tumbled across the room, taking out the two men with swords and an old lady that just looked suspicious.
    I turned to Tiny, who had tried making himself small behind the bar. I balled my fist up, shook it at him and threw an energy sphere past him so hard it smashed the wall mirror into a million pieces. Carlos, Tony and Ursula ducked into a crouch to avoid the flying pieces of glass.
    Oh, but I wasn’t done yet. I could feel the intense energy in the room feeding my powers and I just had to use it up. I set my sights on an old player piano tucked under the stairs. With a point and a flip, I slid the piano across the room and wedged it in the opening between the swinging doors.
    Overhead, a trample of footsteps stampeded across the ceiling. Tony called out to warn me. A rush of men had started downstairs, spurred into action by the commotion in the bar. Some had clubs. Most had knives. All had blood in their eyes. I pointed to the staircase, and with a clap of my hands, set it ablaze in a massive wall of fire.
    To say I was having fun would have been an understatement, and though I wanted to stay and play longer, I worried about Ursula and the others. It was time to finish the place off. I flicked my fingers at the table lanterns, tipping them over and igniting a half-dozen little fires around the room in a mini blitzkrieg.
    “Lilith!” Tony shouted. The three had retreated through a doorway behind the bar. I caught up with them in the storeroom where Carlos was throwing his shoulder into the back door, trying to bust it open. It wouldn’t budge.
    “Why don’t we go out the window?” I suggested.
    Tony glanced past his shoulder at me, “What window?”
    “There.” I pointed at the wall, but where there once was a window, I now saw only a paper poster of a scenic valley. “Son-of-a…. That was a