Bitter Fruit

I wholeheartedly agreed with Merritt’s idea about how to stop Arabella and Lance. My problem was finding a way to accomplish it.

“What of the man who was just here?” Merritt asked.

“Eichmann?”

“Yes.”

“Does he have a title?” I asked.

“He’s called an Obersturmbannführer.”

“What is his job?”

Merritt shut her eyes and began to hum. A few seconds later, she said, “He has a despicable position. Eichmann is in charge of expediting the transport of Magickals.”

My forehead furrowed. “Where?”

“These people are fond of sending Spelltwisters to slums and encampments. In the former, the living conditions are so bad that they wish they were dead. In the latter, that wish comes true.”

I scratched my head. “So, we use the tyrant to achieve our goal. I’ll tell him that I wish to go to the camps. I want to see for myself if there might be any other Sages that we should add to the Lebensborn program.”

Merritt sighed deeply. “I shall have to come with ya.”

Crossing the room, I sat down on the sofa and took her hand in mine. “I have no desire to see such degradation, but I know of no other way to accomplish our task. If I were to use my power—”

She held her hand. “Say no more. We must do whatever it takes.”

“Very well. The Obersturmbannführer had said he would be downstairs. I shall go to him now. Lock the door behind me, and do not open it unless you are certain it is me.” Frankly, I trusted no one in that time period.

Once the door shut and the lock was engaged, I headed for the stairs. The architecture of the Führer’s home was impressive. But admiring his possessions seemed perverted somehow.

“Ah, von Gerhardt!” The harsh voice came from the foot of the stairs. “I was just coming to see you,” said Eichmann.

“Then, I have saved you a trip, Obersturmbannführer,” I said as I closed the distance between us.

“Please, there is no need for formality between us. I am Adolf.”

It must have been a common name in Nazi Germany.

I gave him a thin smile before crossing my hands behind my back as we walked toward the front of the chalet. “Then please, return the favor.”

“Very well, Helmut.” Eichmann held open the door, and we stepped out onto the porch. “You wanted something from me?”

“Yes. I wish to see the camps. Since I have the Sage with me, let’s use her to find others like her. If they suit our needs, we put them into the Lebensborn program.”

Eichmann held his head back and stared at the sky. “I like how you think, Helmut. I can arrange such a trip. Let me make some calls. It might take a day to set it up.”

“An acceptable length of time. It is not like I am going anywhere else.”

He nodded.

I saluted the man, a gesture that sickened me, and watched him walk off.