Chapter 30 #2
‘Ozias told her he couldn’t feed on her any more, not while her emotions were so unpleasant.
But a lot of humans were restless now, and jealous, and she saw an opportunity.
She decided to cut witches off from all emotions, until she got what she wanted.
Witches, we feel everything so deeply. Certain emotions call to us more than others: love and joy and happiness.
We want to embrace them. Enhance them. The more we’re deprived of them, the more desperate we get.
Hungry, for any emotion at all. That’s when the attacks began.
And once we started feeding on negative emotions, it was hard to stop, like we became so consumed by the awfulness we became awful ourselves. ’
Love is the key. Perhaps that’s what Ozias meant, when he had the locket engraved. The key for us to stay good is to surround ourselves with nothing but positivity and light. Clarabelle knew it, and she took it from us.
‘Clarabelle used the attacks to stoke up hatred for our kind, and then blackmailed Ozias into creating the potion. When it became apparent he wasn’t going to succeed, she killed him and allowed the hatred for witches to continue.
Tried to destroy all records of the time before.
If she couldn’t have magic, at the very least, she could ensure we were miserable and in hiding. ’
I sniff. ‘And the potion? Why keep it in the temple at all? Why not destroy it?’
‘Whatever Ozias had done to it, the bottle and its contents were indestructible. To stop the humans getting their hands on it, his coven pooled together enough magic to create a wraith that would last thousands of years, spelled to allow only a Souleater to touch the bottle, and added the restrictions to enter the temple as a back-up.’
‘That wraith was created from dark magic though, wasn’t it? If his whole coven had succumbed to it, I’m surprised they cared enough to protect anything.’
‘Well, they were mostly protecting themselves from Clarabelle. And the corruption is gradual. Some were worse off than others. When they discovered the humans were planning to attack the settlement, the witches still of sound mind went into hiding. These days, although some of us still operate among humans, trading whatever emotion they can get in dark corners, the rest of us channel from each other. It’s safer that way.
’ She scowls. ‘Took me ages to convince my family to give me a little extra magic for this trip. We didn’t have any items to open the temple at home, and they thought it was too dangerous for me to be running around Rerta during the festival.
They said I should stay hidden and let the temple’s protections do their work.
But I wanted to stop anyone getting hurt by the wraith.
Maybe even move the potion to a new location. ’
‘You could have told the truth.’
‘And how would that have gone? “Hey, everybody, I know you’ve been convinced this thing is a cure for centuries, but you’re wrong, except don’t ask me how I know, because if I tell you I’m a Soulbonker, you’ll try to kill me.”’
‘Soulbonker?’
She giggles. ‘Sorry. Habit. I had to throw everyone off my scent. I tried to convince as many people as possible to withdraw from the contest, but it was difficult when they were all starry-eyed over Damian’s promises. I couldn’t offer them the same reward, with the limited magic I had.’
‘Speaking of magic.’ I eye her fresh gold band. ‘I have a roomful of hexed people who need our help.’
‘Of course.’ She hops off the table and prods Damian’s statue once more. ‘This is quite the spectacle. You sure you didn’t do it?’
‘No, I –’ I bite my lip. ‘The whole corrupted by awfulness thing. Can a Souleater come back from it?’
She shrugs. ‘Maybe, I suppose. But you seem stable. And in case you haven’t noticed, that man you’re travelling with is totally obsessed with you. Stick with him, and you’ll be fine.’
‘I intend to,’ I say, biting down a smile. ‘But I wasn’t talking about me.’
I lead her into the next room and introduce her to Eira – careful not to reveal what Nuri is in front of Cale, although, honestly, I don’t think he’d care. He’s so overjoyed to be in her presence, he resembles a puppy that’s been left home alone for hours.
While Nuri whispers to Eira in the corner, Astin and I get to work talking to the captives. They’re still cautious, but they don’t cower away any more, and allow us to make a list of their ailments while I think of the best way to create a workaround for their various hexes.
How we can all help them. I’m not alone any more.
I have Eira and Nuri – along with the coven she plans to introduce me to – and maybe, with enough light magic to go around, these people will spread the news that most witches aren’t awful.
A select few have been corrupted over the years, yes, but isn’t that the case with humans too? Look at Damian.
Hope is no longer a futile thing I can barely cling to, but a chain locked around my heart, something solid that can’t be stolen away.
It’s early evening by the time we’ve finished, and after Astin has multiplied Damian’s coins until our pockets are bursting, we gather in the hallway.
Astin glares at Eira, who’s fidgeting at Nuri’s side, but he seemed content enough earlier, once he’d learned she’d agreed to go on some kind of witchy retreat.
‘I hope you feel better soon, Eira,’ I tell her. ‘And I hope you get to experience the love you deserve one day.’
I expect her to come out with some new rhyme, but her voice is quiet and steady when she says, ‘Me too.’
‘Come on, you.’ Nuri takes her arm and offers me a knowing smile. ‘I’ll be in touch.’