Chapter 36
dear heart
The second bath hadn’t helped much.
The third was likely unnecessary, but she took it anyway. Because she couldn’t afford to look like she felt. Isabel sank into the cool water and whispered the first two stanzas of a low restoration chant, her voice hoarse and cracked from overuse.
She’d already consumed one full vial of a cleansing potion before sunrise. Another, smaller one followed just before lunch. She knew the signs of overuse, the tingling at her fingertips, the hum behind her eyes, but she didn’t stop. Vanity, she thought wryly, would kill her quicker than prophecy.
At first, she lay sprawled across the hotel bed. Comfortable on the pillow-top mattress, the witch drew herself up to be able to look out her window and across the city. Her body ached. Her magic ached more, but she needed to keep moving.
Always keep moving.
The city stretched below. The downtown and Clinic area buildings gave way to green residential neighborhoods, then on to the trees that surrounded the city. Rolling hills with a few rocky granite crags banked along the river. The vista reminded her too much of home.
Her thumb hovered over her contact screen for a moment. She’d make it quick. A necessary but painful connection. His picture looked up at her from the screen, and she tapped the name simply marked: Da.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Dear heart,” he said, voice thick with sleep but instantly alert, “Are you alright?”
She didn’t speak at first, if only to let his voice calm her. The silence stretched, but he knew to wait.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said at last, softer than she meant to.
“Pah,” he countered in his brogue, “Fathers don’t sleep when the storm’s close. It’s barely eleven. What is it, love?”
She exhaled, and her voice trembled. Just once.
“It’s starting. The threads are fraying. She’s gathering them, just not fast enough.”
There was a pause on the other end. The kind a man takes when he’s carrying the weight of the world and deciding how much his daughter still needs to bear.
“You’ve done all you can,” he said gently, “and more than most would have dared.”
Isabel’s throat tightened. “It’s not enough, Da. Not if they fall. If Jess breaks…If Callista falters even once.”
“You said they are powerful,” he offered, shoring up her resolve. “You know power when you see it.”
Her voice caught, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. Her hand went to her chest to hold her heart in place, “They are…with them, it’s different. I try to understand, but…you know what happens if they don’t make it. If they fail…we all do. No more rallies. No next circle. The collapse will begin.”
His exhale was long, the sound of the tide on the sand, “And that, my dear treasure, is why you were chosen to lead. Your mum would’ve said, That’s what comes of daughters born under the wolf moon. You were always fated to stand where the ground might buckle.”
Isabel laughed, softly, brokenly, “You used to say it was just a dramatic weather pattern.”
“Well,” he followed her chuckle, “she was always right more often.”
“Still, I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “Not for me. For them. I worry that I…you know what I mean.”
“I do.” He paused, “You made a sacrifice, and the reason for it is now at hand. You need to clear the air and go into this with a full heart.” He heard a muffled sob, “May God put luck on you, my girl. And may you know what not to carry alone.”
She closed her eyes to let his words wash over her. Better than any balm she could use. Like armor for her soul.
“Thanks, Da.”
There was a shift in his tone: “If you don’t reach out again…I’ll take steps.”
She nodded as if he could see her, “I’m not setting a deadline. I just…if silence lingers too long, you’ll know.”
“I’ll know,” he said, “I always do.” He cleared his throat, “Isabel, I love you. I know it still hurts, but you made the right choice.”
Isabel’s exhale was halting. He meant well.
“It still lives for you, dear. I can feel it.”
“Mmm,” Isabel said, already scrolling for the number. It needed to be done.
“Call me again after you’ve split the sky,” his calm voice a war lullaby, “I want to hear it from you.”
“I’ll try,” she whispered.
“Dear heart. Always.”
She ended the call.
The screen pulsed back to life. Her fingers hovered again, this time longer. The next name, no emoji, or last name. Just Sasha.
She pressed it. It rang once, then again, and a voice she hadn’t heard in well over a year picked up.
“…Iz?”
“Yeah,” Isabel said, already regretting the call, “Sorry, it’s late.”
“A year or so,” the voice shot back, not angry, just tired.
“I just…wanted to hear someone who used to know me.”
There was a pause. “That’s cruel,” Sasha said. Not loud but honest. “You say that like I stopped.”
“If I could take it all back,” Isabel began, then sighed. They’d been down this road before, and it was Isabel who couldn’t commit.
“That was your choice. “ You’re not well,” Sasha signed. “You’re crying. What’s wrong with you?”
“Not loudly,” Isabel said, then sat up on the bed, trying to clear her thoughts, “I have something coming up, so…it’s…bad, Sash. You need to know that.”
Another silence passed, too full of things neither one of them wanted to say. Then Sasha’s voice broke in trembling, “A protocol matter?” she asked, her voice wavering, “like you warned me?”
“There is a file. A black envelope, under the floorboard by the radiator. It will tell you what to do.”
“When it’s over, Sasha, I met a couple here in the States. I can’t explain how they-”
“Isabel…” Sasha whispered harshly, “Don’t make me grieve you twice.”
“Sasha,” Isabel gasped, “They—I’ve never witnessed a love like they have…I don’t-”
“—Then maybe,” Sasha interrupted, “when this thing is over…you come back. Try to explain yourself.”
Isabel blinked hard. The tears didn’t stop, but her breathing almost did.
Choking back sobs, Isabel wanted to say so much, to apologize for the time they had spent together with promises and dreams planned only for Isabel to abruptly call it off and disappear. She’d committed to the magic world but not to Sasha.
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
“Don’t say goodbye,” Sasha added, “Just hang up.”