CHAPTER 36 CONFRONTING A COVEN
Kat stood, her right hand clasping the hilt of her sword, her left a lit torch, as she and Faucher stood at the head of the entourage that was to go down into the tunnels beneath Lady Elena’s keep.
“Ashowan, are you frightened?” Faucher asked with the faintest note of disbelief and humor in his voice.
“Gods no. I’m excited!”
“Of course you are.” Faucher sighed while shaking his head. “You know that this could be a trap and there may be the people who have attempted to harm or kill you down there, right?”
“Or these are people with magnificent Gods-given abilities who have been hunted their entire lives and forced into hiding and will just need a bit of coaxing,” Kat countered loudly.
“That may be true for some of them, however—”
A loud throat clearing from the back of the entourage interrupted the teacher and student.
Both Faucher and Kat looked over their shoulders and back through the rows of knights toward Mr. Kraft, Brendan Devark, and his assistant, Mr. Levin. The king was giving Faucher a flat look before jerking his chin up toward the knights between them.
It was only then Faucher realized that his discussion with Katarina was starting to make the men anxious.
He barely resisted grumbling that Kat had permanently altered his own sense of what was outlandish and what was normal …
Instead, he turned to face the troupes that had all crammed themselves into Lady Elena’s wine cellar, where there had been a false wall filled with wine bottles that opened to reveal stairs that led underground.
“Alright men, do not act aggressively toward these people. We are not certain there is a traitor in their midst, and many of them will be frightened. Do your best to de-escalate the situation before using force.”
The men chorused back a “Yes, sir!” and then, with one final nod to Katarina, they began to descend into the tunnels.
At first the stale air smelled a bit of moisture, but the farther they descended … Other scents came forth.
The smell of cooking. Bread baking … Broth simmering …
Kat’s stomach growled, and Faucher shot her a subtle look of incredulity.
She raised an eyebrow in response but bit her tongue, once again displaying that she had learned some modicum of discipline under his command as they marched down the stairs that fortunately were wide enough for two people to step side by side and had a high enough arched ceiling that it didn’t feel like they were being buried alive.
Then the faint glow of light softened the darkness ahead of Kat’s and Faucher’s torches, and the murmuring of voices could be heard.
Faucher held up a fist, halting everyone.
From the back, Mr. Kraft called out.
“Goddess of our people!”
The voices below fell silent, and an uneasiness plucked at the knights.
Until at last someone responded, “Antlers of the Green Man!”
Faucher tried to peer back through the crowd to see the king’s nod of confirmation to continue, but in their enclosed space, the shadows were too heavy.
“He’s nodding,” Kat whispered, her gleaming eyes only making the knights slightly uncomfortable—a small yet promising sign she had made strides in making them less fearful of witches. A crucial detail in that moment.
Faucher faced frontward again without issuing a thanks and continued leading everyone down the rest of the stairs.
When they stepped onto the bottom level and moved through the rounded doorway, Faucher and Kat halted at the sight before them.
A tunnel ran as far as the eye could see, and on each side were circular wooden doors, some had stairs built going up their sides to apartments on another level. Torches were lit by the main entrance and between the doors. The most stunning sight of all? The crowd of unique-looking men and women that froze and stared at the entourage.
A family to the right appeared to be leaving their apartment, their son with dark green hair, and the man who presumably was his father carried a pot of soup in his hands.
To the left, there was a pair of women that had a basket filled with dark bread with steam still wafting from the loaves.
“Attention!” Faucher roared, and Kat almost flinched. She could hear how his voice was terrifyingly loud in the confined space, but she gripped the hilt of her sword tighter and moved back with the other knights to make room for the king to walk forward with Mr. Kraft at his side.
There was a flutter of movement through the crowd as a figure approached …
A man with shoulder-length wavy black hair threaded with gray, brown eyes, and a hooknose peered at Mr. Kraft, his panic barely hidden.
“Mr. Kraft, what … what is happening?” Despite his alarm, the man managed to ask the question loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear.
The coven leader’s throat bobbed before he lowered his gaze mournfully.
“His Majesty King Brendan Devark wishes to hold interrogations of everyone here, but there is nothing to fear. They are not here to hurt anyone who is innocent.”
“My Shandalle was innocent! But knights still cut her down!” An older, shriveled woman hobbled free from the crowd, tears in her eyes as she stared at the king, the pain in her wrinkled face palpable. “My daughter did nothing! To no one! S-She grew flowers! She just wanted to bring a bit of beauty to the world, and yet knights murdered her, and nothing was done!”
Another person in the crowd reached out and seized the elder’s arm to pull her back and stop her from speaking. While the old woman wasn’t strong enough to fight back, her anger and grief-filled stare bore into the king.
Brendan didn’t bat an eye as he regarded the sea of faces that appeared either hostile or terrified.
“Troivack lost its way, for many years. It is not right that many have suffered, which is one of the reasons why I will not be forcing anyone to leave this place of safety or alerting the public of its existence for the time being. However, there are forces that are threatening the entire kingdom now, and it is possible that there are people down here who are instigating this.”
“What do we care what happens to the rest of Troivack? They turned on us! We’ve been hunted, slaughtered, and chased from our homes. My own mother tried to bury me alive, saying I was going to bring hell upon our family.” A new man stepped forward, his front teeth half an inch longer than was the norm, and the entirety of his eyes were black, yet he peered at the king and his men with no problem in the low light.
Brendan regarded the new speaker, again, without any outward reaction. “This conflict could bring about the demise of not only Troivack, but it could be the start of a war between the ancient beasts and the rest of the world. While your reaction is understandable, we will begin our questioning immediately.”
Faucher joined Brendan’s side then. “I want two lines. Women on the left, men on the right. Children can sit before the king in the middle. The knights behind us will call you forward one at a time to ask you questions.”
Despite Faucher’s authoritative tone, no one moved.
In fact, many people crossed their arms.
Kat bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could say something, being well aware of how Brendan’s coldness was not serving him well in such a moment …
With her thoughts consuming her attention, Kat was unaware that the small boy with green hair was staring at her interestedly, and after a moment of observation with squinted eyes, broke free from his parents and shuffled closer. His mother immediately dove for him, dragging him back, but the action snapped everyone’s eyes over to them.
“H-Hey!” the boy shouted. “She’s a witch!” His mother had already begun exerting effort to cover the child’s mouth, but his declaration and pointed finger made her stop. Slowly but surely, all gazes found their way to Kat, who they then could see had golden, glowing eyes, and … was a woman … wearing a knight’s uniform.
Murmurs began to hum around the tunnel.
Kat leaned forward to the king and Faucher. “Permission to speak to them?”
Brendan studied Kat, his eyes hard.
She fully expected him to say no. Especially given the last time he had allowed her to speak openly in a crowded room, she had caused more headaches than the king cared to count.
However, as the whispers around them began to rise in volume, Brendan listened to his gut and nodded to her.
Kat let out a quick sigh of relief and moved in front of Brendan, who hadn’t realized that she intended to take center stage to deliver her message …
“Everyone!” she shouted, and the room fell quiet as they gaped openly at her. “My name is Lady Katarina Asho—”
“Reyes.”
Kat blinked and looked over her shoulder at Faucher, who had interrupted her and wore a sardonic expression on his face. “Your last name is Reyes now.”
She grimaced in response. “Gods, this is wildly annoying to get used to,” she muttered before rounding back to the crowd that was growing confused. “My name is Lady Katarina Reyes! Oh. No. No, no. That doesn’t sound right. I wonder if Eric would change his last name … I think I could persuade him.”
Brendan let out a grumble and crossed his arms behind Kat as she continued talking to herself.
“Alright! Well … My last name was Ashowan, now it’s Reyes! There!” She paused, smiling at everyone, who stared back at her blankly. Her grin faltered. “Now … What was I going to say again …”
“Oh for the love of—”
“Right! I am a witch from Daxaria, and His Majesty King Brendan Devark has been tasked with not only keeping me safe but also has allowed me to learn to defend myself with a sword under Leader Gregory Faucher!” Kat had cut off Faucher’s irate words and at last finished her introduction.
“W-Wait … Are you … Are you related to the house witch?” A woman in her sixties inched closer, her dark, wide eyes bright with hope.
“That I am! I’m his daughter, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance!”
“Oh! Thank the Goddess! We’re saved!”
“Come again?” Kat leaned forward, her brows lowering as the woman looked to the heavens and clapped her hands together.
A man with a pronounced hump on his back dove for Kat’s hand, bowing and kissing it.
“Lady Katarina, you can deliver us to Daxaria! We can be taken there as refugees!” the woman who had asked the question heralded, tears already rolling down her cheeks.
Meanwhile, everyone was talking excitedly again while Kat was distracted, trying to free her hand from the old man without actually harming him, though she did shoot a look toward Mr. Kraft for assistance.
He was a mite dumbfounded himself by the reaction.
“N-Now, let us stop for a moment!” Kat hollered after successfully detaching herself from the hunchbacked man. “I am here because there is a threat that could destroy not just humans here in Troivack, but everyone. Witches included! In all kingdoms! We need to find whoever is helping … someone … a woman in the castle here in Vessa. Someone with connections to Witch’s Brew!”
Thankfully, everyone fell into a thoughtful quiet, and so Kat took the opportunity to add, “We have additional questions that might help bring some light to the situation, so if you could please line up, that would be appreciated.”
The same woman who had declared Kat their savior drew even closer until she stood in front of the redhead, revealing that she was incredibly tall, hovering an extra five inches over Kat.
“If we cooperate, will you save us? Please. Please take us to Daxaria. To the Coven of Wittica.”
“I—er—we can discuss that. My father is here in Troivack as well. He will be able to listen to your requests, but only if everyone here cooperates with questioning!” Kat raised her voice again while trying to call out to the very back of the crowd.
However, the older woman tugged Kat’s hands, pulling her attention back to her.
“My name is Esther, my lady. Thank you. Thank you for coming for us.” Esther’s round eyes still watered with tears; her skin, while pale due to living underground, was well kept and sprinkled with freckles. However, there was an intensity about her that unnerved Kat …
And the longer Kat stared at Esther, the more pronounced her discomfort grew. It was like the woman was making her insides itch … and yet she couldn’t look away.
Kat’s aura burst from her body, making everyone around her save for Brendan and Faucher leap back.
“Ashowa— Reyes? Damn, that is annoying,” Faucher admitted under his breath as he stumbled in addressing his student.
Kat wondered why her hearing felt like it was starting to turn inward …
It wasn’t like when the devil had broken down her defenses and freed her magic, but there was still the sense that she was being pulled far away …
“Esther!” Mr. Kraft snapped, though he did so only after Brendan shot him a concerned look. While the exchange appeared tense, it didn’t seem threatening, aside from Katarina’s aura making an appearance.
Esther blinked, and everything stopped.
“It is good you have controlled it. Be careful not to let it grow too powerful without release,” Esther warned in a whisper.
Kat felt dizzy … What had Esther done? Did she have the ability to see magic like Mr. Kraft … ?
Her dazed thoughts were interrupted as Esther’s gaze then filled with sadness as she continued staring intently at Kat. “Death is hardest on those that remain living. Remember that, and value what you can offer the world before making a choice, child.”
Esther released Kat’s hand and bowed her head.
Shaken to her core, Kat could neither speak nor move in response …
Had … that woman … just seen her future?