CHAPTER 14 : SILK AND STRATEGY
“Witches without covens are highly dangerous. They answer to few, especially if they sequester themselves in non-magical communities. Often these witches turn to criminal enterprise, selling havoc to the highest bidder. Report these rogues immediately and do not engage. You may not walk away in one piece. ~Author Unknown, Coven of Chaos, Seasonal Pamphlet
AVARIS
“She’s using a dampener spell,” Tirma mutters, her eye is magnified to twice its size through her copper spyglass.
She offers it to me, but I shake my head. I can feel it, and even if I couldn’t, the unnatural fog that’s fallen over my valley would tip me off.
I have full view of the approaching army from the tower roof. Their shadows shift inside the fog, and they’re much too close for comfort.
We won’t have long to prepare.
For an inexperienced witch, the dampener spell would be debilitating. For me, it’s a minor nuisance. But it’s only a symptom of a deeper problem—the sooner we get rid of their witch, the better.
Tirma’s spyglass glints red from the undershadow eye fitted in the shaft, allowing her to see clearly through the magical fog.
“Are they salt mercenaries, iron knights...” I pause, “maybe skyguards?”
“Not mercenaries,” Tirma twists her lips, “they’re separated but too organized, no bat riders in the sky either.” The clay shingles creak as she adjusts her position, trying to see further. “I doubt Iron Hand would risk their alliance with Starfall, and those knights only care about winning tournaments anyways.”
“So, skyguards then?”
“No.”
In order to avoid frightening her, I hold back my sigh of relief, but deep inside my heart lifts. Going to war with the clouds could render the whole valley to dust.
“I see flags. They’re marauders. At least three factions.”
“Which ones?” I ask.
“Erm, Blue Thorns, Dune Dreamers and Pale Smoke.”
“Those are warring factions...” I chew on my thumbnail, thinking. “What are they doing this far south of the Burning Lands? Working together no less?”
“Only three reasons the sandmen move. Gold, water...” Tirma lowers her spyglass and looks at me, “and wives.”
My eyes spark blue, but I quell my havoc. Now that I’ve disturbed my reserves, my magic is rearing like an angry snake that wants to bite.
Not yet.
“Do we send a messenger bird?” Tirma asks. “Give them a chance to surrender?”
“No, if they wanted bloodless passage south they would have taken the Long Road.” I carefully descend the roof and hop onto the tower’s highest balcony.
Tirma drops down behind me.
Inside my classroom are my students, still dressed for the party. The younger girls hug the older ones, who are petting their hair and whispering reassurances in their ears. Every few seconds the tower shakes, cascading dust from the rafters on their heads.
All of them look at me, their faces drawn with worry.
Yendy squeezes her head through the stairwell doorway. “Sorry, Avaris, they outnumber me.”
“Everything is under control,” Tirma says, “go to your rooms.”
None of them move.
Revory speaks first, shuffling through the crowd. “I can’t feel any havoc,” she looks around, “none of us can.”
Moroka rushes after her. “Where did Bavetna go?”
“The ground is shaking,” Heedee says, she’s sitting on Ursa’s shoulders to see better, “I’m scared.”
The floodgates open, and a barrage of questions stream out. The girls speak over each other, panic in their eyes.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
I raise my hands and wait for the noise to quiet down. Once it does, I level my gaze at them. “You deserve the truth.”
“There’s no need to frighten them,” Tirma says, but I ignore her.
“Marauders have come from the north, they are armed and dangerous. We are surrounded on three sides, and they brought a renegade witch to fight with them.”
No one makes a sound.
“I don’t tell you this because I am trying to scare you,” I say softly, “I am telling you because I need your help.”
Their eyes lift, and their ears perk up. A few straighten their stances.
“How can we help?” Heedee asks, voice wavering. “We’re not even witches yet.”
I stride up to her and tap her nose with my finger, drawing out a small smile. “Trust me, you can do more than you know.” I whisper.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Tirma mutters out of the corner of her mouth as I return to her.
“Witches of Little Abbey!” I raise my voice, and they all jump, startled. “This is our home, and it is our responsibility to defend it.” I take a deep breath. “Will you stay with me and fight?”
“Yes, Warden!” they shout in unison.
I smile.
Good girls.
EGG
This is all wrong.
Dart is attacking my friends. My friends are attacking Dart.
I have to make them stop.
Dart hurtles across the clearing, bouncing side to side to avoid Baventa’s rapid fire. The arrows whistle through the air and I duck, covering my head with my hands. A few disappear into the forest, others pierce tree trunks one after the other—all miss their target.
Bavetna pushes Nilah back and leans away to avoid Dart’s sword cutting her throat open. She blocks the next blow with her horned bow, locking weapons. Her blue arms shake and her knees bend as Dart pushes down with all her weight.
“Get out of my way, lost one,” Dart says, tilting her head.
“No.” Bavetna throws a punch with a free arm.
Dart catches it before it strikes her chin using...another hand? What is going on? Two hands hold her blade, and a third grips Bavetna’s fist, squeezing it. I hear a crack and Bavetna howls.
I run up to Dart and grab the back of her cloak, trying to pull her back. “Stop it, Dart!”
“Rest, my King, all will be quiet soon.” Slowly, Dart’s red silk cloak lifts, and I take a step back, shocked.
She’s like Bavetna.
Dart has eight limbs too, except their movements are more rigid, heavier, and their joints crack with each bend. She takes all but the two she uses to stand and pushes down on Bavetna’s body. A claw, wrapped in red silk, covers her face, her shoulders, her hands—
Bavetna’s expression is tight with pain. She struggles, trying to push back, but Dart is too strong. She collapses to her knees, bow bouncing to the ground.
Dart raises her sword, it gleams silver in the moonlight.
An urgent, invisible force pulls my insides, and I’m too stunned to resist. The glow in my palm flickers, and the sound of thunder breaks the night apart.
A tree topples over, crashing directly onto Dart.
The silence after is deafening.
Slowly, both Bavetna and I turn to look at Nilah, who is trembling. “It was r-rotten, going to fall anyways, I just...sort of...nudged it along.”
“You are a wonderful witch,” Bavetna says, breathless.
My eyes land on Dart’s broken form. No. I crawl forward. Her body is underneath the tree, covered by a fan of pine needles. Her mask is visible below the bark, but it’s cracked in two.
Cautiously, I try to remove it.
A claw snaps up and grabs my wrist.
I jolt and try to pull away, but Dart holds on tighter. Some of her silk bandages have unraveled, and instead of blue skin all I see is a grotesque mix of metal and bone.
“Don’t,” a raspy voice says, jittering and mechanical. “Let me...have my...face.”
Her hand falls away, limp.
Tears blur my vision. I wipe my nose with my sleeve and stand, leaving her mask where it is, just like she asked.
“You killed her,” I whisper.
Nilah picks up Bavetna’s bow and hands it to her. “She was going to kill us,” she says, not meeting my eyes, “it was self-defense.”
“She was going to take me back!” I shout.
“Egg...” Bavetna says quietly.
“How stupid are you, chicken legs?” Nilah storms forward, blocked only by the fallen pine tree that separates us. “She’s evil! Just look at her!”
“So? Bavetna looks pretty evil too! You don’t see me squashing her with trees!”
“Egg...”
“You know what? Fine! Go back to your fancy palace! You’re nothing but trouble!”
“I will!”
“Good!”
“Egg.”
“What?!” I round on Bavetna, but the look on her face stops me in my tracks.
Her yellow eyes are luminescent, reflecting the moonlight, like four lanterns in the dark. The shadow of a pine needle frond slashes her body into differently tinted scars.
“You are ready,” she says, “it is time you know the truth.”