6. Calypso
Chapter six
Calypso
It was on the tenth day that the town of Taybe finally responded to their lord’s murder and takeover of his estate.
Astra reported back that the local militia was organizing in the town center, intending to gather what numbers it could to storm the estate.
“What does it matter?” Calypso waved her hand, focused on reviewing the spellbook for another way to locate the amulet. “Your wards will block them from entering the grounds anyway.”
Astra continued pacing around the room. “First off, we only have so much black salt to reinforce those wards. And second, we can’t remain isolated at the estate forever. Eventually, we will need more provisions. They will not sell to us if they hate us.”
“They will sell to us, or they will die.”
Nyx’s sigh caught Calypso’s full attention, and she looked up to see Nyx rubbing the bridge of her nose. “It will not be productive for them to fear us.”
Calypso shrugged and looked back at the spellbook, continuing her fruitless search. “On the contrary. I find fear to be quite productive.”
“Not if we want to re-establish a coven here.”
With a scoff, Calypso shut the spellbook. She wasn’t getting anywhere anyway, and clearly it was time to address serious matters.
“When exactly did re-establishing a coven become the goal? Last I remember, the plan was to kill Thomas Haworth and return to Sanograd. His estate is only as good as the money it’ll provide us to bribe our way into the capital.
Besides, Ker Beck is in Sanograd, and he needs to answer for his crimes.
” Calypso looked between the two women. “During all our years of planning, I do not recall discussing starting a coven.”
“We have been talking—” Astra began before Calypso interrupted.
“Without me, it seems.”
Astra’s eyes fell in guilt, but Nyx met her stare without flinching. “You were more than welcome to have joined in these conversations, but you seemed to prefer occupying your time with blood magic instead.”
The words they had avoided for months now hung in the air between them. Saying them out loud made it heavy, made what she did real.
Calypso knew her sisters were aware of her escalation with blood magic. Their silence felt like acceptance of her decision. Or at the very least, understanding.
“I do what I have to do for our pact. It would’ve taken another decade or two of training to get my fire magic to this point.” Calypso slammed her hands on the table, standing up sharply. “The lust for revenge is not enough.”
“You’re right about one thing. Revenge is not enough,” Nyx pushed. “We need to form a stronghold here.”
Calypso drew back, not believing what she’d heard. “Do you not want to kill Beck?”
Nyx’s silver eyes sharpened. “Beck will die by my hand. But I want more than that. I want our kind to survive. To thrive once more.”
A sardonic laugh escaped Calypso. “While we are wishing for things, I would like the ability to fly. You cannot possibly be this na?ve.”
She didn’t expect this from Nyx. If anyone, she felt Astra was one to get lost in fanciful ideas. Nyx was pragmatic, not letting her pain blind her.
Her sisters betrayed her with dreams of an impossible future. There was no future for them, only revenge. The three of them knew they likely wouldn’t survive completing the pact. But as long as their demons went down with them, it would be worth it.
“You can call it naivety, if you want, Calypso. A few years ago, I agreed with you. Then, it was just the three of us. Now, we have a house full of witches who have placed their trust in us. I don’t take this so lightly.”
“In a way, we are already a coven,” Astra added softly, as if Calypso was something made of glass that might shatter.
The sudden weight of that responsibility was too much. Calypso couldn’t breathe. This was never the plan, and she didn’t want it to be.
“I’m leaving,” she mumbled, turning on her heel to leave the room.
“Where are you going?” Astra called.
“Into town. You wanted me to take care of that militia problem.”
She stormed out and headed down the path away from the estate. She had a few minutes of peace before there was the sound of footsteps running behind her.
“Can I join? I haven’t had a chance to go into town.”
It wasn’t one of her sisters. It was one of the witches who had joined them once they’d crossed the Ihoi River a few months back. She was dark-skinned with bright, bouncing curls that framed her face like a halo.
Calypso ran through a gamut of names before it came to her. “Aileen?”
“Got it.” Her hazel eyes sparkled with amusement.
“This isn’t a shopping expedition. I am going to confront whatever counts as a militia around here.” This didn’t scare off Aileen, so Calypso continued. “It doesn’t matter to me if you join; just don’t expect pleasant conversation.”
With that, a comfortable silence fell between them. As they approached the town center, the twisted feeling in her gut released, and Calypso felt more at ease.
She surveyed Aileen’s bare skin, looking for her mark of magic, but couldn’t see anything obvious.
The alchemical tattoos appeared on a woman’s body around puberty, expanding as a witch advanced her powers.
Most fell into one of the four major elemental marks of air, fire, water, and earth, but there were rare occasions when a witch developed one of the minor ones.
She didn’t press these thoughts further as the public square came into view. A cold smile spread over Calypso’s face as she observed the gathering. This was an excellent opportunity to get her frustrations out.
“Clio was right. Your pre-fight stare is unsettling. I don’t think you’ve blinked for the last five minutes.” Aileen fake shivered. “You shouldn’t kill them, though.”
That broke Calypso’s concentration. “I would be careful telling me what I should or shouldn’t do.”
“This is just a militia of local farmers. I’m pretty sure that one is carrying a pitchfork.”
Calypso looked back. While there were certainly strong men among them, there were a lot of young, thin faces, too. Most of them weren’t even wearing any protective clothing, instead dressed in loose linen pants and plaid shirts.
“Look at it this way,” Aileen continued in her easy-going tone. “It wouldn’t be a satisfying kill.”
Aileen was proving to be quite annoying. Though likely correct. Going hard at this group would be more embarrassing than satisfying.
The men stopped their hushed discussions and braced themselves as the two of them came forth. Calypso almost rolled her eyes, seeing the white-knuckled grip a young man had on his shovel.
Only one of the men stepped forward at her approach. Judging by the muscled arms that were crossed over his chest, she gave him the small credit of looking like he could actually land a punch. Under his thick beard, his expression was guarded but unafraid.
She put her hand out to prevent Aileen from continuing forward and then strolled up, stopping in front of their leader. “The welcome party failed to come to us, so I came to it instead. Though you’ll have to excuse me, I didn’t receive the announcement that I would need to bring my own pitchfork.”
“This is no joking matter, witch,” the man in front of her said. “You have brought violence to our town, and we mean to remove you.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “Most people would say it’s rude not to introduce yourself when threatening someone.”
“I am Aengus Fredrichson, the leader of the Taybe militia. And this is not your home.”
“That’s where you are wrong, Aengus Fredrichson.” She paused, trying to recall a past conversation with Nyx about the townsfolk. “Your name sounds familiar.”
Why couldn’t she ever remember anyone’s name?
“Leave our town, you old hag!” The boy who yelled clearly had a vision impairment, because while Calypso was used to many insults, old hag was completely off base.
Before she could respond, Aengus asked, “Is it true Lord Haworth is dead?”
“Yes. You are welcome.”
Angry muttering spread across the group, and the men started to encircle her.
Talk seemed to be over. Nyx and the others would just have to accept that Calypso had tried her best.
Flames weaved up her arms like snakes, her vision becoming blurry as gold flooded in.
“Get her before she uses her magic!” a voice called out.
“I have the rope!”
“No, just strike her down! She’ll burn the rope!”
Voices clamored on top of one another as the group argued over what to do. Calypso let the increasing disarray fuel the bloodlust that always lay just underneath the surface.
“You were the town miller, weren’t you, Aengus?” Aileen’s melodic voice cut through Calypso’s concentration.
The men quieted as if seeing her for the first time. Their energy seemed to settle, and Calypso realized that Aileen’s power lay in emotional manipulation. Although helpful, her physical defenses were limited.
“Get back,” Calypso ground out.
Aengus grunted, “Aye, I was town miller.”
“Why did you stop?” Aileen asked and annoyingly kept walking until she stood next to Calypso.
Calypso absorbed the flames on her left arm to keep from accidentally burning Aileen, but allowed the lick of them to remain on the right as a warning.
“It doesn’t matter,” Aengus answered. “That is not the problem at hand.”
“I would very much disagree. You see, a working mill is the backbone of a town. Yet the one here in Taybe remains untouched. From what I’ve been told, that’s been the case since Lord Haworth raised the rent on the mill.
” Aileen flung a large purse, which landed at Aengus’s feet.
The coins inside rattled with the impact.
“Three years of wages for three years lost.”
There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone stared at the coin purse. Not even the onlookers seemed to know what to do with this gesture.
Aengus broke the silence first. “I am not interested in your blood money.”
“But why must you be the one bleeding?” Aileen persisted in her calm, gentle way. “A lord’s responsibility is to help the town prosper. Yet the high rent resulted in a high flour tax, which the farmers couldn’t pay. Come back as the town miller, Aengus. Help Taybe prosper once more.”
Aengus continued to glare, leaving the coin purse untouched.
“Can they even do that?” someone whispered behind him. The crowd muttered, a divide forming from the difference of opinion.
Seeing things unravel, Aengus turned toward his militia and put up a hand.
“Men, we cannot let this pass. There are laws for a reason. If they take an estate now, what is to stop them from taking your bakery next, Josiah? Or your farm, Laurence? Thomas Haworth was a bastard. No one believes that more than I, but this isn’t the way. ”
Calypso had enough.
“Let me make it clear. Nothing is to stop me from taking your farms and shops and homes.” Calypso pointedly ignored Aileen’s scowl.
“Just as nothing stopped Lord Haworth from taking from you. How many were left starving under his guidance? We did not come here to raze the town to the ground, though I’d say your lord was doing a pretty good job of that himself. ”
Much to Calypso’s displeasure, Aileen stepped toward Aengus again, letting herself be close enough to be grabbed or hurt.
“You don’t have to like us to see that what this town needs is a working mill. With no flour tax, your farmers wouldn’t have to choose between traveling to process their grain or starving.”
“No flour tax?” an older man carting a pitchfork repeated. “If you don’t take that money, I’ll take it and run the damned mill myself.”
A pained look went over Aengus’s features, but he picked up the purse. “My grandfather helped build that mill, and Thomas Haworth used it to take as much as he could from us.”
“Now you can get back some of what was taken,” Aileen said.
There was excited chatter between the men, their anger forgotten and replaced with eagerness to spread the news.
The crowd thinned, and only Aengus remained.
“If I had any doubts about you being witches, they are quelled. I’m not sure how you managed to turn this around.” Calypso could’ve sworn that he sounded almost impressed. “Make no mistake though, these farmers aren’t the last men to come here with weapons. Captain Von Ahlen will bring his guard.”
“Great!” Calypso clapped her hands once. “Can’t wait to meet them.”
Aengus shook his head as if Calypso had lost her mind and walked away.
Once the farmer was out of earshot, Calypso turned toward Aileen. “So, you carry the mark of mercury.”
The calm smile on her face froze, and Calypso felt a presence gently probe at her, checking her emotions. Then Aileen pulled up her sleeve and, sure enough, at her wrist was the recognizable circle with a cross below it and a semi-circle above it.
The mark of mercury was one of the three minor alchemical marks of magic, giving the ability to manipulate emotions.
Gemma held the mark of salt, allowing her to manipulate vision and create a glamor that shifted her appearance.
The mark of sulfur was said to give the ability to manipulate the mind and search through memories.
Calypso had never encountered a witch who possessed this.
Aileen softly spoke. “I barely had to sway him. Their minds were already open to accepting us. Or at least accepting something different from their prior district lord.”
Calypso had a hard time believing that but didn’t argue the point.
“I don’t care.” Calypso turned on her heel and began walking back to the estate. “Just know, if you ever try to sway me, I will kill you.”
“Understood.”
They continued their walk back in silence. She wouldn’t ever admit it, but Calypso was glad Aileen had come with her. Regardless of how preposterous she found the plan of building a stronghold, she could see that it benefited them not to fight against the locals.
Maybe there was something to what Nyx was saying.
Only revenge matters.
Unfortunately, the dark voice was correct. She wouldn’t stray from the ultimate goal of avenging her mother.
Like a sudden awakening, Calypso felt a foreboding presence at her back. Without thinking, she pushed Aileen away just in time as several forces emerged from the shadows.
“Run back to the estate! Now!” Calypso commanded the other witch as she glared at the four giant orcs.