Chapter 6
Mina
I found the high witch in her private sitting room, preparing our tea service.
She looked to be perhaps seventy, but was probably closer to a hundred and fifty.
Witches aged slower, our wielders too, once bonded to us, but not nearly slow enough to be immortal.
The oldest witch in history had lived to be nearly three hundred.
The only witch currently older than Fiona was Barisa.
“Aramina, thank you for coming.” She glanced up to add, “Do you take cream and sugar?”
“I do, thank you.” I made myself comfortable on the sofa across from her, careful not to fidget. My eyes darted around the space, taking it in. Besides the cozy sitting room, a small, cluttered study sat in the adjoining room. Several closed doors hinted at private chambers.
“You are recovered from your journey?”
“Yes, much.”
“Good.” She handed me a teacup and saucer. I took a sip and sighed. The black tea was full-bodied with just the right amount of sweetness. “Let’s talk about yesterday’s council meeting. I am sure you have questions—concerns. There was much I could not say aloud.”
“I thought so. Admittedly, I am relieved you summoned me today. They…they won’t really strip me of my bond, will they?”
She eyed me over the rim of her teacup before setting it down.
“I am going to speak plainly. The situation in the Citadel is deteriorating. The current climate is tenuous, at best. I have done my best to maintain balance, but I fear we are at a tipping point. Your revelation has only worsened things. There are some witches who believe your bond to Rixon—who is now king—will make it harder for them to achieve their goal.”
I opened my mouth, but could think of nothing to say.
Fiona must have sensed my confusion because she said, “A select group of witches firmly believes that the Citadel has an inherent right to rule over crown politics. With the demon situation being what it is, the rules of the crown become secondary when a person’s life is at stake.
The crown does not have the power to protect its people as we witches do.
Therefore, it should be the witches dictating Raeria’s laws and its people’s way of life. ”
My blood chilled and I blinked. “You…you truly believe that?”
“Me? Gods no, child. But I am afraid there are many here who do. Many who wish to insert themselves—by force, if needs must.”
“Witches have no idea how to rule a kingdom! We deal with demons. And…what does it matter? Whether or not a witch sits on the throne doesn’t change the matter at hand. There are not enough witches to protect our people, nor enough to cull the vast increase in demons we have witnessed.”
“They have a solution for that, too.” Her voice was grim. “More than one.”
“Tell me.”
“You have heard of this new Nebrine repellent from Carth?”
“I thought that was a rumor.”
“I assure you, it is not. We have several here in the Citadel, of varying sizes. They’ve been tested. Everything checks out.”
I huffed. “That’s helpful for Raeria’s people, but it won’t be enough. Repelling demons doesn’t kill them.”
Fiona cast her gaze towards the window, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “You know how a witch is made, yes?” Her voice was just above a whisper.
My stomach sank like a rock. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Many would go to great lengths for power, even if it means great suffering to get there.”
“Oh, gods.” I felt sick. “And…and if these witches—the ones who share this train of thought—come into power, then what? Will they snatch young children from their beds and turn them?”
“I am only repeating what I hear, whispered in the corridors.”
“Why haven’t you put a stop to such nonsense?”
“Oh, believe me, I have tried. It has only served to drive a deeper wedge between the old and new. The new believe the council should be dissolved, and a single witch should rule supreme.”
My tea sat abandoned on the low table between us. I looked at the pastries, so perfectly frosted, and couldn’t bear to touch one. I had thought my biggest challenge was saving Rixon from a life of blood tithes. But this?
Fiona sighed. “There is nought to be done about that this moment. I summoned you because I did some digging last night.” I sat up straighter.
“Every head witch in history has kept a journal…of sorts. An accounting of her deeds throughout her position. The collection is meant to assist future head witches, if they so need. I found something of interest, something that has made me question things.”
“About the portal?” I sat up straighter.
“Yes. Just a moment.” She got up and retrieved a small book from her study before taking a seat beside me.
She opened it to a page marked with a ribbon.
“Ophelia, the first head witch. She writes of a falling-out between the king and his advisors. I’ll let you read through it.
I’ve marked all the pertinent bits with erasable charcoal, as you see. ”
I took it, and began to read. Much of it was rambling, but certain passages stood out.
Kerra is angry with me again. I fear this might create a point of no return.
Perhaps this is the end for us—her and I.
Perhaps her love is not worth my reason.
We never should have trusted Cornelius. Men with this kind of power are too dangerous.
I am glad the demons ate him—though it wasn’t worth the price we have all paid, nor the price this new kingdom must pay.
We should have stayed in Uscaan. We never should have crossed the sea.
We never should have coveted their power.
I am a husk of regret.
I frowned, making little sense of it. Then I skipped ahead, through Ophelia’s self loathing, and landed on the next marked passage.
Kerra demands that I spek with Avrin again. I have told her: he will not budge on the matter. I do not blame him. Our betrayal has cost us. No, Cornelius’s betrayal has cost us. How could we have known what the ritual would awaken? But we should have. Ignorance is no excuse.
“Who is Avrin?” I looked up at Fiona.
“Avrin Kozma.”
My lips parted. “The first king?”
“Indeed.”
Realizing how important this was, I continued. There was more rambling. I came to the next marked place.
Padhra’s daughter was right to curse us. I still hear her screams when I sleep at night.
I glanced sharply up. “Who was Padhra’s daughter?”
Fiona sighed. “She never outright says, but in piecing it together, I believe she was the daughter of a chieftain. One of the tribal clans. Keep reading.”
I skimmed, flipping more pages.
I dreamt of Maleia again. I saw her in the middle of the five pointed star, watched as Cornelius flayed the flesh from her bones.
The way her magic poured out of her into the opening.
..it was like watching the last drop of water leave a dying well.
What would someone willingly pour into such a void to make it whole?
And I did nothing to help, nothing as the portal opened.
Only this time, it wasn’t Cornelius who fed the demons, but us.
Kerra was swallowed first. They saved me for last…
“Oh my gods,” I whispered. “The portal she's talking about…” Fiona was watching me closely. “There was a five pointed star on the floor, in the room where we found it. I…I didn’t mention it yesterday. I was wary of how much to reveal.”
“Understandable,” Fiona mused.
I turned my attention back to the journal, flipping through.
Avrin has offered us a chance to atone. We will ride to battle beside his warriors.
It will not put us back into power, but he has offered us our own, in a way.
He will allow us to remain in our small settlement.
Even if he offered nothing, I would agree.
This was our doing. Perhaps if we can undo it, the nightmares will stop…
I have not written in some time. I find that I haven’t the energy to hold a pen.
It is done, in so much as it can ever be done.
We contained the wound we made, but wounds this deep.
..they remember how they were carved. Perhaps someone, someday, will do what we could not, fix what we could not.
All I see when I close my eyes are the thousands upon thousands of blackened carasses rotting under the sun.
Many of our kind lost. I feel the sting of Kerra’s absence like a twisting knife—
“Was Kerra her lover?” I asked, looking up.
“Yes. Some of her less consequential ramblings confirm it.”
The tribes did not help us, though they used protections of their own to keep the demons at bay.
Not that there are many of them left. Not after the way the Uscanians have colonized this place.
I say that as if I did not come from Uscaan myself.
As if I am not one of them. When did I stop thinking of myself as Uscanian and start thinking of myself as something… other?
“Are there any left? The tribes she talks about?”
“I do not believe so.” Fiona lifted her tea and took a sip. “I will continue my research into the journals that came after Ophelia’s, but safe to say, probably not.”
A weight settled on my chest. It was silly to think that this kingdom had always been as it was.
But how could it be? Kingdoms began. They always had a start and sometimes an end.
I’d already read about the settling of Corinna some weeks ago, about how Uscaan had discovered this chunk of land.
Why had I not thought about the potential for displaced peoples?
Avrin Kozma was crowned two weeks ago, naming his blessed city Corinna and his blessed kingdom Raeria. I don’t much think the tribes appreciate that. They are too few to fight back. I fear they will be no more than a passing thought in decades to come.
We were not permitted into Avrin’s bright city to witness his rise to power, even if we were partly responsible for it.
He has permitted us dominion over our small breadth of land, for which we are already hard at work, building our own citadel.
A safe haven for people of power. I fear that Maleia’s curse will change our kind.
Perhaps there will be no more of us, and we will die out just as her people are.
“Maleia’s curse?”
“Keep reading,” was all Fiona said.
It is as I feared. A young child came to us—a girl of indeterminate age, orphaned.
She was not born with magic, but her magic is of our kind.
Maleia’s curse, at work. She could not keep from crying as she relayed the events that brought her here.
The way magic bled into her veins just before a demon nearly ripped her body apart.
I thought we had killed them all. I was wrong.
But I was more so wrong about Maleia’s curse.
No new babes born of magic. It must come to them in ways like what was inflicted upon Maleia herself—moments of immensity. Gods, forgive us for what we have done.
I looked up at Fiona, aghast, before flipping through more rambling.
They still walk among us. How many, I cannot be sure. Avrin demands that we do something about it. This is our mess, after all, though I wish to remind him that he wasn’t entirely blameless. He wanted the power Cornelius offered, once upon a time. He is paying for it now…as are we all.
I skimmed a few more paragraphs, then turned a page. There was a final entry, and everything after that was blank.
We placed the final stone today. I cannot help but look upon our fortress with pride.
Our blessed citadel. It is, perhaps, the only worthy legacy I leave behind.
I am tired. So tired. My joints ache. My mind aches.
Some days, I wish it to be over. Will Kerra be waiting for me, wherever it is that I go?
I blew out a breath, putting enough of the pieces together.
“You will tell me if you find more?”
“I will.”
“And what of everything else?”
“I will do all I can to protect you and your wielder. This journal, at least, confirms your claim of a portal. I daresay we will know more of your fate when we reconvene. If what you say is true, that Rixon’s blood is the only thing holding the way shut…” She trailed off and blanched.
“Then the gods help us,” I finished for her.
“If things do not rule in your favor…” She hesitated. Her expression told me enough. She was at war with herself. “I will find a way to get you out, before you are stripped of your bond.”
The back of my eyes burned, but not with the thing that lurked inside me. “Thank you,” I managed. Hesitating, I asked, “Why are you so intent on helping me? I know it’s not just because of the portal.”
She contemplated, thinking through her next words.
“You might be the strongest witch we’ve seen in a long time, but if it weren't for my wielder, your abilities would not be enough to sway me from breaking witch law. Herrin has a soft spot for you. He would never forgive me if I didn’t act.
Fortunately, my conscience is clear, knowing there’s a portal only your wielder can seal.
I trust that you’ll see it stays that way? ”
“I will.”
“Good.”
I stood, then bid her goodbye before retreating to my room.