Chapter 33
Prism
A teapot hovered in front of me as the pointy-hat witch ushered me to my seat at the table. “This—this can’t be,” I said, looking around past the activity of floating pots and clinking teacups to the faces of the other witches at the table.
The head witch took her seat across from me and snapped her fingers. A black kettle floated in front of her and tilted, pouring steaming liquid into her porcelain cup.
“Did you hear that, Boline? This cannot be?” a witch with pale blond curls framing her young face drew out the last words in sing-song mockery. The other witches laughed.
Boline, the pointed hat, gray-haired witch took a sip of her drink. “It can be, and it is. Objects here will do your bidding, dear. You needn’t even ask. Housewares will serve you, crows will attend to you, and every path will open for you to do your bidding.”
I shook my head. “I don’t mean—I’m not speaking about the bewitched teapots. What I mean is…” I gestured to her and the witches at the table. “This… all of you. You’re… you said you’re…”
“Asunder, sweet one. Yes, we are the Asunder Coven. You’ve heard of us, yes?”
“Heard of you?” I said, feeling faint. “You’re… You’ve…”
Boline snapped at the blonde witch. “Censer, enchant the poor child a clarity brew. Poor dear can scarcely speak.”
With an inconvenienced exhale of breath, Censer pulled a purple bottle from her robe. “This is my last of this one,” she complained. “Seems a waste, but sure, whatever you say.” She poured a few drops into a cup and waved it away. Moments later, the teacup landed gently on my saucer.
“Drink, drink,” Boline encouraged. When I looked into the swirling liquid of the tea, it mimicked the witch’s words, spelling out, Drink, Drink, in foam.
I glanced over past the table where Wraith stood, thick red arms crossed and watching.
“You won’t need your guard any longer. Feel free to dismiss him,” a witch with brown hair and copper eyes said next to me.
“He’s not my guard, he’s my friend,” I replied.
When I glanced up, Boline was staring at me, resting her chin on her palm contemplatively. “The archdemon is her friend, Stang.”
The women chuckled and looked at me as if I were a kitten chasing its own tail.
Deciding it was best not to drink whatever was just placed in front of me, I sat up straight and forced my chin up.
“Yes, I’ve heard of you. I’ve heard of you referred to as a man, sometimes as a woman, but never as a coven.
In fact, my town of Willowspire felt it best to never speak the name Asunder at all for fear of inviting one of your raptures on our town.
You know, the raptures? Where you use these withers—I mean, archdemons—to capture and murder magic users?
Because, as you know, magic is forbidden, as per your law.
So, yes, you can say that I know of you.
I know all about what you all stand for here. ”
Teapots bobbed in midair as three pairs of eyes leveled me with mixed stares. Contempt, admiration, astonishment, perhaps. I reached for a scone. “May I?”
“Help yourself,” Boline answered evenly. “I’m sure you’re famished after your journey… and from holding so much hate and misguided belief within yourself.”
“True, true,” the other witches echoed.
Before I could grab a pink-frosted scone, it floated off its delicate tiered tower and landed on my plate.
Eat Me scrawled across the top in white piping.
My stomach growled. Taking a small bite, the strawberry-flavored treat melted in my mouth.
“To be clear,” I said, still chewing, “it doesn’t matter much to me to discuss your wicked ways or origins.
I know what I’ve lived through; I know what my fellow townsfolk have endured.
What I care about is getting what… getting who… I came here for.”
Boline leaned forward on her elbows and smiled. “And who might that be, dear?”
I swallowed. There was no going back now. I wasn’t about to back down under Asunder’s scrutiny. Their eyes burned into me from every angle. Each of their seemingly innocent stares jabbing at me like the butter knives so perfectly arranged on lace doilies before me.
I sucked in a breath. “His name is Vore, and he’s my claimed, my mate, my heart’s song. He is a wither, an archdemon, as you call them, and I won’t be leaving the Underworld without him.”
As the women stared, I reached for a pale green scone, flicking my wrist back as it floated to me before I could touch it. The magic was actually kind of annoying. Who wouldn’t just pick something up themselves?
“In Willowspire,” I said, fighting with a spoon to butter my own scone, “this kind of magic would incite a rapture and get people killed.” I took a bite. “Is that true, or is it my hate and misguided belief talking?”
Boline raised her eyebrows. “We’ve got a spirited one, sisters.
Good, that is good. You’ll need all of that fervor here.
” Boline swirled her finger and a napkin rose and flapped itself like a bird before soaring around the table and landing neatly in her lap.
I surpassed the urge to roll my eyes at the unnecessary and exuberant display of lavish magic.
“You dislike us because you do not understand us. You are a product of where you’ve been for so long. Willowspire, Willowspire, Willowspire.”
“Wise words, sister,” Stang said.
“Profound insights,” Censer echoed.
If it were Rumor here instead of me—she simply would not have been able to sit quietly without rolling her eyes and causing a scene.
However, I wasn’t Rumor… perhaps for once I felt lucky not to be my sister.
In that moment, I would be me, and only me.
The me I’d found along the way. Through the Underworld, through animal burrows, rocky oceans, and another monster capture, I’d made it this far by my own will, my own instincts, and I wouldn’t fail here.
Not when I’d made it this far. Even under the unsettling eyes and giggles of this outlandish reality that was Asunder.
Part of me couldn’t believe this was real.
Another part knew it had to be. It was all too strange not to be.
No one knew. No one knew that Asunder wasn’t some ominous and hidden man… Asunder was a coven. Asunder was a coven at some sort of mad tea party.
“Why all the secrecy around who you are then?” I asked, taking a bite of a vanilla scone and discovering the green frosting was mint. It was mildly annoying how good the food was and how I was so hungry I couldn’t pass it up. I’d need my strength to retrieve Vore.
Stang turned to me, swirling her finger and commanding a spoon to stir her tea.
“The less they know”—she gestured above our heads—“the better. It’s easier on their simplistic minds to believe one big bad figurehead governs everything in the realm.
If they knew we were just a coven of a few witches, mind you, very powerful ones, well… it’s not as sinister sounding, is it?”
“I’m not sure anyone’s mind is simplistic… though your characterization of a realm of people whom you’ve never met sure is.”
Stang flinched ever so slightly as if offended. Good.
“Now—” I clutched my teacup, letting the Drink Me hot liquid warm my fingers. “Supposedly the only thing standing between me and Vore is you all. So, I’d like to go to him now.”
Boline lifted the corner of her lips. “You are indeed quite a wonder to behold, Prism Malefic.” She hummed softly. “Oh, to have a Malefic witch at our tea party again.”
“Indeed.” Censer nodded.
“Yes, very well,” Stang said softly.
I fidgeted with the handle of my teacup. “Again?”
“Yes.” Boline tilted her chin down at me. “Again.”
“Did you know my matri?” I asked, now knowing that her home sea of Night Gale was located in the Underworld.
I wasn’t sure which answer I wanted to hear.
No or yes both told me little except that I didn’t know my own parent as well as I thought I did.
A reminder of how she was taken too soon.
Taken by the very people sharing tea with me around a cursed table.
Boline sipped her drink, raising her pinky finger in the air. “I knew both of your mothers. We all did. Goddess, child, with your ignorance I wonder… did you know your mothers at all?”
The witch read my insecurities plainly across my baffled and hurt features. My voice wavered as I asked, “Did they… did they also sit at this table?”
“Indeed they did for a time. For a long time, until you and your sister came along. What is her name? Something a bit dark and mischievous, just like her, isn’t it? Gossip? Whisper? Murmur?”
“Rumor,” Censer supplied.
“Rumor Malefic.” Stang rolled over her tongue. “What a name, what a witch.”
“Don’t speak of my sister. Leave her out of whatever comes from this meeting,” I croaked out, feeling faint at the onslaught of information.
Even near dizzied and mystified by Asunder, even after all she’d done to drive me to this wretched point in time, the inclination to protect my older sister remained within me.
Why had my mothers associated with Asunder?
Why had my matri never told me of the Underworld sea of Night Gale?
Why did my sister and I cause my parents to distance themselves from Asunder and the Underworld?
The lead witch eyed me as if she heard every question playing through my mind. Eerily, I wondered if maybe she did.
Boline spoke, “Prism, my dear, there will be plenty of time to pass along every answer to the numerous quandaries of your tender heart. However, I must say I am saddened that you’ve sought us only for your own selfish means.
I know I speak for my sisters when I say we have longed for such a day for so long.
We have much to offer you, sweet witch. Power, dominion, and every pleasure you could dream up.
Yet, you don’t even seem joyful to see us. ”
Censer shook her head. “Tsk, tsk. What a disappointment already.”
Stang echoed, “Selfishness is the root of much evil.”
“I only want my mate.” I sat up straight, glancing to Wraith as he watched on with crossed arms and a fierce stare. “That is the only reason I have come.”
“Hmm…” Boline hummed. She stood, and I gripped the arms of my chair as she sauntered around the table and leaned next to my place setting as she looked down at me. “I can see that reuniting you with your monster would be my best hope of gaining what I desire from you.”
“Wh-what do you desire from me?”
“Your loyalty, dear, sweet witch.” Boline stroked her bony fingers over the lace tablecloth.
“Of course, I could force you to comply. You must take your place here regardless. However, I have found within my many years through many realms that, unfortunately, loyalty cannot be bewitched. Sure, the illusion of dedication can certainly be bespelled. Yet many a witch has lost her life once her subject regains their autonomy. Such a shame those hexes never quite stick.”
“A deep sorrow,” Censer added.
Stang nodded. “Sad indeed.”
Okay, the mimic twins were starting to really annoy me.
“You want my… allegiance in exchange for Vore?”
“That’s right.” Boline grinned like a barn cat. “Generous of me to value your happiness, really. Though, I am a thoughtful and compassionate ruler. Asunder always cares for their own. If this monster will content you, it is no matter to me, as long as you’re vowed to us.”
“Vowed to you? To… Asunder?” My breath froze in my chest.
“You will take your place as a member of the Asunder Coven, dear, yes. Oh, you lucky, lucky witch.”
The other witches chanted around me.
“So fortunate.”
“Blessed girl.”
Air flowed tightly in and out of my lungs, fighting with the blurriness of my mind.
Asunder. Would I join Asunder to save the love of my life?
Doing so would forfeit all that I was, all that I hoped to be.
Becoming the villain in all the realm’s story.
Betraying my mothers who were killed by this very coven, this force, that broke tiny sandwiches and teacakes around me.
Was it worth that? Was Vore worth sacrificing my humanity for?
“What do you say, Prism Malefic?” A long scroll floated over and hovered by the witch, followed by a long-boned quill. The text glowed in gold lettering. “Your soul for your monster?”
I swallowed, reaching out my trembling palm and gripping the quill. It felt as if every witch in my ancestral line watched me through the veil in that moment. Perhaps, somehow, they were.
Before I could think it over, I knew my answer.
I’d known my answer since the first time Vore held me and shared with me his name.
From the first day in Nisse as the sun warmed my misery-frozen body to life.
I’d known from our first kiss from behind the enchanted lights of the waterfall.
I knew the night he sat at my doorstep, not leaving, not sleeping, even though I was furious with him.
Long before Vore claimed me with his body, I had claimed him with my heart.
There was no going back for me. The answer was simple.
I scrawled my name across the line of the agreement. “We have a bargain.”