Finley opened her mouth to speak, but the woman cut her off.
“Bothwa!” the woman called and spun in a slow circle causing her hair to fan out around her. Its silvery beauty momentarily distracted Finley, but she was brought back into focus by the bitter cold engulfing the room.
“What are you doing?” Finley’s words left white puffs of breath in their wake and her teeth chattered in the unnatural silence. “What is that name?”
“I am calling on the one who can make this right,” she continued to spin, uttering indecipherable words between calling the name. “Bothwa!”
“He’s already here,” Finley moaned and squeezed her eyes shut to keep out the images of endless death and destruction that suddenly filled her mind.
“Hush!” the woman stopped spinning and clapped her hands in a staccato pattern. “Bothwa! Bothwa!”
Two disembodied thumps was the answer accompanied by an ear-popping vacuum noise.
And there he was or at least what Finley’s brain comprehended Bothwa to be. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a disturbing grey pallor and cold, dead eyes.
“I don’t deserve this,” Finley threw her shoulders back and confronted the entity. “I shouldn’t have to die just because her daughter was greedy.”
“Die?” Bothwa gave a hearty laugh exposing a mouth of broken yellowed teeth. “No, girl. Death is easy. Death will be a welcomed relief from what awaits you in my care.” He laughed again and looked expectantly at the old woman.
The woman clasped her hands together, her brow furrowed in thought, but did not speak.