CHAPTER 37 FINE-TUNED FORESIGHT
Yes, Esther can see images of the future … Her grandmother had the same gift, but her powers are far more strange and unique than a simple mutated witch’s power,” Mr. Kraft explained to Kat, who was sitting with her elbows braced on her knees off to the side of the rows and rows of people being interrogated.
“How … do you mean?” Kat managed, though she still felt like she was going to vomit.
“Well, didn’t you find it strange that your abilities weren’t able to absorb what she was doing? Up until now, you have been able to have your aura consume any magic directed toward you, but she was able to look into your future without any interference.”
Kat swallowed and finally succeeded in lifting her eyes to peer toward Esther, who sat near the base of the stairs being interrogated by the king himself.
“What is it that makes her abilities so special?”
“We don’t think she’s a descendant of the first witch.”
Kat looked up, while stilling. “What? How is it possible that she can see into the—”
“Lady Katarina, your father’s account of his time in the Forest of the Afterlife has been well documented, and he was gracious enough to share said accounts with me since arriving,” Mr. Kraft recounted carefully. “I admit, my theory pertaining to Esther is new in light of what your father has shown me. However, I’d always thought it odd, her abilities … They don’t clearly align with any element, and furthermore … well … I didn’t want to say this in front of the others, but”—the coven leader leaned forward and quieted his voice—“it could be argued that it is intruding upon one’s free will to be observed by someone without consent. This could incite a great deal of danger, as you can imagine.”
While Kat frowned, she lowered her eyes in silent agreement. She didn’t want to admit that she was already worried about what impressions the knights were getting of the witches when they were so openly hostile, let alone from one who could see the future …
“The other peculiar piece about her power is that it has run in her family for three generations. Her grandmother traveled the world telling fortunes, and her mother did the same until she met a Troivackian man and settled down here with him … Never has a mutated ability been passed down with the exact same properties and the exact same amount of power. There have always been variations if the power is passed down at all to begin with.”
Kat gradually lifted herself to sit straight as she continued listening to the coven leader’s words.
“Then there is the fact that I can’t see her ability at all until she is in the middle of a vision. Normally, I’m able to see any small use of power, or if I touch them, I can understand completely. I cannot with her.”
“What does this have to do with what you mentioned about my father’s time in the Forest of the Afterlife?”
“Your father said the crystal that the Green Man wore around his neck cast images that revealed the past, present, and future.”
“You think Esther is a mage?!” Kat exclaimed a little louder than she intended to, making Mr. Kraft shush her fearfully while looking around nervously to ensure no one heard.
“No. Esther doesn’t require a crystal, nor does she require the language of mages either, but I do wonder, if perhaps the Green Man bestowed a select few with this ability to align with what is happening presently.”
Kat frowned. That hadn’t been her guess at all, so she turned to Mr. Kraft with a slight tilt of her head. “I thought you were going to say it indicates they are the descendants of the devil.”
Mr. Kraft’s expression fell.
The man looked utterly stunned.
“I … I confess I’d never considered that.”
“Well, wouldn’t it make sense? The first witch had children. I doubt the devil has been celibate the whole time he’s been on earth. He probably has offspring of his own, and given that he obviously has abilities, doesn’t it make sense his own children would have them as well?”
Mr. Kraft held up a finger while inching forward excitedly. “Then why have we not heard of anyone else—including in Daxaria—having abilities outside the norm?”
Kat gnawed on her tongue thoughtfully. That was a tough one to answer … The descendants related to the first witch each had a piece of her original power though nowhere near what legend said the daughter of the Gods had been capable of doing.
Following that pattern … Wouldn’t it make sense for the devil to only pass along a portion of his ability?
Wait … but the devil couldn’t see the future … Could he?
“A decent theory, Lady Katarina, but I am still of the mind that, like mutated witches, this new ability is the Gods’ way of interfering to help things along.”
“Help what along exactly? Are we supposed to defeat the ancient beasts? Are we supposed to defeat their son? What is it that they want from us?”
Mr. Kraft leaned back on the old stool he sat upon to rest his back against the tunnel wall.
“That … no one can truly know.”
Kat’s knee began to bounce rapidly as her mind raced through everything. “Why didn’t you tell anyone about Esther?”
“I didn’t because no matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t see how revealing her could be of any help.”
At this, Kat stared incredulously at the man. “Oh. You’re right. Someone who could tell us everything that is going to happen is absolutely useless.”
Mr. Kraft rolled his eyes toward the ceiling wearily before closing them. “She sees two or three images at most. Sometimes it is only of the present, sometimes the future, sometimes it’s a mix of past, present, and the future. The farthest ahead she has seen is up to a year, but that only happened once or twice. Usually it is within a few months, and the visions don’t always come to her. Sometimes she is able to see something, and sometimes she can’t. The unreliability of her powers could create an even bigger discordance with everyone’s views of magic here in Troivack. Do you see how it could be far more dangerous than helpful to introduce her?”
“Even once you learned of the devil’s presence? Didn’t you think this skill would be something that we should take into account with all the other strange things going on?” Kat asked almost angrily.
Mr. Kraft met Kat with a level stare. “I did ask her to look into the future after our encounter with the devil. She tried and saw nothing but blackness. She screamed the entire time she tried and took days to console …” He shook his head at the memory. “Even more reason not to bring her into things.”
Letting out a long, exhausted breath, Kat slowly pushed herself to her feet. “What’re the odds that she will tell me what she saw in my own future?”
“You are welcome to try, but with a fortune like yours, I doubt she will share it.”
“Wonderful. I just have to think about who is going to die. Which is great, honestly. I don’t have anything else stressful going on. Nothing. I am just fat and lazy these days. Not a serious thought in my head at all!” Kat retorted sarcastically while throwing her hands into the air and walking back toward the knights so that she might help with the interrogations since she was feeling a little more like herself again.
Mr. Kraft rose as well, though he shook his head at the redhead’s rant.
Despite her usual unrefined, unguarded behavior, Lady Katarina had brought up a very interesting question …
Did the devil have any offspring?
While the old records said he roamed the world trying to corrupt humans, there was nothing about whether he had sired any children … Or was he unable to? Had the Gods condemned him on earth for eternity to walk alone and repent?
Mr. Kraft looked out over the sea of witches, when a new idea occurred to him as he pondered the devil’s influence in history …
I wonder if the devil had something to do with mutated witches appearing in the first place … ?
The room was dead silent save for the occasional clinking of porcelain.
The three women didn’t even lift their gazes to one another.
With the suffocating tension, even the stoic maids could feel sweat dampening their backs as they worked to set the private meal.
Lady Annika Ashowan, Lady Nathalie Faucher, and Lady Rebecca Devark sat around the small round table in the solar.
Given that Lady Rebecca was not permitted to dine with the rest of the nobility due to her exile, the alternative dining plan had been presented so that the women might converse on recent events …
However, no one was speaking.
When the maids completed their work and politely curtsied, they waited to see if they’d be dismissed … But it dawned on them, they were not entirely certain which of the women present had the most authority in that situation.
Was it the former queen Lady Rebecca Devark, even though she was technically still serving out her punishment?
Or Lady Nathalie Faucher, the wife of the new acting captain of Troivack’s military, even though she was technically a guest at the castle?
That left Lady Annika Ashowan, a foreign guest, but a duchess …
It was a circumstance that there hadn’t been explicit training for.
In the end, while Lady Rebecca Devark raised her eyes as though she were about to speak, it was Lady Annika Ashowan who said the words.
“That will be all. Please leave us,” the duchess ordered softly without looking up while taking a sip from her teacup.
Rebecca Devark’s gaze cut to Annika, a spark of fury in her eyes that could almost be passed off as a trick of the light.
Lady Nathalie saw this, however, and reached for her own cup, her attention sharp, and her fingertips prickling with anticipation.
She hadn’t felt such a thrill like this since … well … Since the last time she had been in the presence of the Dragon.
“I’m pleased to see my daughter-in-law has been so gracious and that you feel at home here, Your Grace.” Lady Rebecca addressed Annika with her head held high. Her words were thinly veiled.
Annika calmly set her cup down.
“Her Majesty has been quite welcoming. It is wonderful to see her again. Have you been well, ma’am?” Annika’s polite, friendly tone made a corner of Rebecca’s mouth twitch.
“I have. Though I must confess, your daughter’s presence has certainly brought more excitement than this court has seen in many years.”
Annika tilted her head and settled back in her chair, making no move to start partaking in her dinner.
“I imagine my daughter forever making her mark in Troivack’s history would be something noteworthy.”
Lady Nathalie proceeded to pick up her cutlery and carefully began cutting into the seasoned chicken breast on her plate without interrupting.
“She has indeed made a name for herself during her time here. As I’m sure she will when she returns to Daxaria in the near future,” Rebecca speculated airily.
“Oh? I was under the impression Her Majesty wished my daughter to stay here for the remainder of the year as was agreed upon by both kings,” Annika continued, staring unwaveringly at the former queen, who didn’t falter for an instant.
“I would have thought she would have wanted to take care of her pressing responsibilities as the future queen of Daxaria.” Rebecca raised her eyebrows and casually reached for her goblet.
“Given that there is still an attempted murder trial that needs to be wrapped up, as well as great instability in the kingdom, my daughter and son-in-law feel it is also in Daxaria’s best interest that they offer their assistance,” Annika returned with a graceful bow of her head.
Rebecca picked up her own cutlery, and Lady Nathalie eyed the tightly gripped knife in her hand.
“Yes, speaking of His Highness Prince Eric, I hope his father the king won’t mind terribly that his nuptials with your daughter were so hurried. Though I know my son His Majesty did his best to ensure it was a beautiful ceremony.”
“Oh? Were you a part of the planning? It was terrible that I wasn’t able to make it in time, but the dress she wore I heard spared no expense.”
Lady Nathalie almost choked on her chicken.
So … Annika Ashowan knew her daughter had worn trousers on her wedding day.
Nathalie would have been worried about the duchess’s reaction over such an occurrence were she not wielding the information as a weapon to check the former Troivackian queen within the next two exchanges.
“His Majesty King Brendan Devark and I have managed a great deal of matters together through the years,” Rebecca returned vaguely while spearing a turnip with her fork.
“Of course, of course … Ah. Though, I think I misspoke just now. Lady Nathalie?”
The Troivackian noblewoman froze. She should’ve known she’d get caught in the crosshairs at some point …
“I believe it was actually your husband who spared no expense on my daughter’s wedding attire and … Oh dear. While I said dress, I meant to say uniform. I must confess, Leader Faucher’s students do look dashing when in their official uniform.”
Lady Rebecca froze, and all color drained from her face.
Nathalie watched Annika cast her eyes to the ceiling with practiced innocence before brushing her fingertips along her mouth. “While I would have fought against such an idea at first, I must confess, the uniform does represent much of who my daughter is as someone with a respectful position in both Daxaria’s and now Troivack’s courts. Don’t you agree, ma’am?”
Rebecca Devark looked as though she were ready to stab Annika Ashowan right then and there. Duchess or not.
Whether she would act on the urge remained to be seen.
Lady Nathalie busied herself by downing the rest of her goblet of wine and reaching for the decanter to refill it while the former queen and duchess stared each other down.
Gods, she’d missed this.