CHAPTER 19 : CALL TO ADVENTURE
“Here lies Yendy Briarhutch - 1123-1167 AF
Survived by two sons and countless honorary daughters.
The finest witch, cook and mother we will ever know.
You will be missed.”
EGG
The funeral was strange.
Instead of burning her body, so her ashes could rise to the sky and be amongst the stars, they buried her in the ground.
Why anyone would want their remains left for the worms is beyond me. It’s disgusting. Yendy deserved better.
I hang back, watching from a small hill as the students of Little Abbey line up and leave flowers on her grave. They chose a wild apple orchard to the west of the Abbey as her final resting place. Apparently it was her favorite spot.
The orchard grows within an old ruin. Nearby is a slow-moving river that coils through the crumbling buildings, although it’s generous to call them even that. The stone is overrun with vines, and most barely reach above my waist.
The trees rain pale blossoms on the girl’s heads. They are all wearing yellow dresses—the same shade as Yendy’s magic—to honor her.
Tirma even made me a lemon-colored tunic from a set of old curtains. I tug on the collar, it itches like crazy, and smells like mothballs.
Unlike the witches, I have no attachment to this place. I don’t have memories of snowball fights, apple picking, or napping in the shade on hot summer days.
But Yendy was the first witch who was truly kind to me. She made sure I never went hungry, and added so much life and laughter to what otherwise would be a dark and scary witching tower.
The Warden spells the soil to slide over the crude pine box they placed her body in.
I can’t take it anymore and turn away before it’s sealed shut. Finding a short limestone wall beside the riverbank, I sit down against it and bring my knees up to my chest. Glumly, I fish small pebbles from the grass and toss them into the water.
A frog croaks, and a dragonfly with prismatic wings flutters through the cattails. The morning light reflects off the river in wavy, orange beams.
My right hand is sweaty—it’s only been three days and I’m still not used to the glove the Warden gave me. It’s a thick, green gardening glove clearly meant for a girl, and is still too big. I itch to rip it off, to look at the strange bundle of power in my hand.
But then I remember the hole in the man’s chest, and I keep it on. Apparently, the Warden put a temporary spell on it to “dampen” the magic’s effects. But I can still feel it, like a miniature sun begging to be let out and burn—
The reeds swish apart and Nilah steps out, careful not to slip into the river. Her cheeks are streaked with dried tears, and her eyes are red and puffy. She sits down beside me and watches the water for a time.
Lately, Nilah can always find me. Even when I’m out of sight. It’s like she can sense the magic that connects us.
After the battle, and after Norasmus was...confined...we were pulled into the Warden’s study for a private conversation.
EGG (FLASHBACK)
“You cannot use his chaos core, Nilah,” the Warden warns her.
Nilah is obviously very upset by this. She goes on and on about the power potential and the unlimited uses and how much easier it is than drawing on regular strings of havoc—
“It will kill him,” the Warden says, interrupting her the moment she takes a breath.
Nilah’s dreams are crushed in an instant.
She explains that the magic is corrupted by my connection to the Endless King. Something about intertwined fates, mixing chaos together, ichor enhancement, core exposure...
I stop listening after that. Telling me I’m going to die is good enough for me.
“In fact, Egg, it’s harming you right now.”
“It is?” I ask.
“Yes, although the problem is slowed considerably while the core is dormant, every time you use magic—the worse it will become. It’s a gaping wound that is continuously leaking chaos into the world.”
She looks at me with pity.
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Nilah asks.
“It’s a long shot, but there are alchemists in Starfall, maelstroms, scholars...specialist witches. You might be able to find someone who can separate your havoc streams and close the chaos wound for good...or at least devise a way to contain it.”
“So...you’re saying Egg has to go to Starfall?”
“I’m saying there’s a chance. You could try the Thirteenth Library, perhaps there is a historical account of this happening before, although I doubt it. Besides, the Library is well off the path you must take. The fastest way to Starfall is by boat.”
After that, the Warden asks me to leave the room so she can have a ‘private discussion’ with Nilah.
I have an annoying feeling that they are going to talk about me.
The Warden spells some ruin that affects the layer of air on the door, so I can’t hear even when I press my ear against it.
Luckily, I still have my undershadow eye in my pocket. I hurry down the stairwell and duck into a pantry closet.
The eye glows in the dark—creepy.
Just like the first time, it drags my perception into the gem. At first, I’m not sure it worked. I can’t see anything, and I’m not even sure if the Warden kept the other eye in her study. But I focus really hard, and after a few seconds my ears pop.
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I can hear their voices, although they’re muffled. As if I’m inside a desk drawer.
“You’re lucky all he did was burn a hole in that man’s chest. And luckier still that your spells worked the way you wanted them to.”
“But why, I don’t understand!”
“The magic in Egg’s hand is that of destruction, not of creation. It can disrupt the very fibers of havoc, distort and twist them into something unnatural. You have not known chaos until you’ve seen it in the flesh.”
“You don’t know that! This is brand new. It’s completely unexplored magical territory.”
“I know what you’re thinking and this is not the answer. By trying to take a shortcut to learning witchcraft you will only cheapen yourself. Knowing your ruins, understanding the fundamentals, practicing drawing from proper havoc strings—these are things you should be spending your time on.”
“Not all of us have hundreds of years to become a famous witch!”
“...”
“Sorry, I...I apologize, Warden Avaris.”
“Trust me, child. You fostered some control because your havoc is now tied to his, and that familiarity with your own chaos gave you a buffer. But mark me, Nilah Stormwood, his magic will turn on you.”
When I hear the door open I try to pull my awareness back. I’m still not sure how the undershadow eye works, so I simply picture the red tunnel of refracted light it had dragged me through—but backwards. It feels like my skin is being sucked from my skull, but I manage to yank away from it.
I quickly burst out of the closet and shut it behind me just in time for Nilah to stomp down the stairs. She bumps into my shoulder on the way down, but doesn’t stop to say sorry.
I look up to see the Warden standing on top of the landing, fingers folded in front of her. “Egg.”
Does she know I was spying? I swallow and clear my throat. “Warden.”
“Take this.” She hands me a green glove. “Tirma will work on something more...permanent. It will help contain the chaos.”
I thank her and put it on. Immediately the yellow light at the center of my palm is doused. “How long do I have to live?”
“I do not know.”
“Is there really someone in Starfall who can help me?” I’ve studied maps of the Endless. At least the charted parts. Starfall is very far to the south, by the coastline—the opposite direction to Starfloat, which usually flies over the northern border.
“Maybe,” the Warden says, “maybe not.”
“That’s not very reassuring,” I say dryly.
“I know.” She descends the stairs and briefly touches my shoulder as she passes. “But it is the truth.”
The words fall from my mouth before I can stop them. “Is Yendy dead because of me?”
She stops. Her blonde hair covers half her face, so I can’t see her expression. “No, Egg. That would be the witch who set her on fire.”
“But the armies only came because—”
“There is always an army,” she interrupts. “Or a cruel emperor or a rogue witch or a swamp beast who won’t leave innocent villagers alone. You may try to choose a path of peace. Live somewhere quiet and remote—but the evils of the world do not disappear just because you are no longer looking at them.”
“What are you saying?”
“That you have a choice. I can see the paths of your havoc unwinding right now. You can run from death...or you can face it.”
“I don’t want to die,” I say, voice catching in my throat.
“You misunderstand me. It’s not your death you must face. Although that will come to meet you, one way or another. It’s others. Friends, enemies—your chaos will draw misfortune to you like moths to an open flame. It’s best to prepare yourself now.”
“You’re telling me I have to learn to fight? To k-kill? That I should just,” I throw my arms in the air, flustered, “get used to it?”
“Yes.”
The way she says it strikes me like a mallet to the chest.
She smooths her skirt and continues her descent down the stairs. “Just remember, Egg,” she calls back. “Killing is easy, it’s not losing yourself that’s hard.”
Over the next few days I run our conversation over and over in my mind.
Can I really handle a life full of monsters and torment? I’m not equipped for this! It took a whole month just to learn how to plant a potato without it dying on me!
At least the aftermath of the battle keeps me busy enough that I’m able to avoid spiraling. The clean-up, even with magic to help, is gruesome. Only the Warden, Tirma, Bavetna and the older students help, the younger ones are told to stay in their rooms. They set up a tent behind the farm house for the surviving soldiers as a temporary infirmary. Tirma uses it as an opportunity to teach the witches about healing magic. Nilah attends the lesson, although she isn’t as talkative as she usually is.
Tirma explains about tendons, muscles, veins, bones and a variety of other sickening topics. Apparently she can stitch more than just clothes, and her magic is both fascinating and stomach turning at the same time.
Under the Warden’s watchful eye the soldier’s, once healed, are collected by members of their factions.
Not surprisingly, none of them were very pleased with the rogue witch who used the bodies of their dead friends as puppets, and since their benefactor could no longer pay them, they felt no need to try and attack again.
Still, it was tense until the last of them were placed on carts (or into large baskets tied to the backs of giant crabs...which are shockingly playful when they aren’t trying to murder you) and shipped back to the Burning Lands.
Bavetna leads the task of making Little Abbey livable again. We put out fires, round up the weevils, chase down the goats—a few even use magic to rebuild the bridge over the pond.
The gory bits are mostly buried with a grass regrowth spell the Warden cast, but I still came across a skinless knucklebone when replanting the wildflower garden—I lost my appetite entirely after that.
Once the Abbey was made whole, or as near as we could manage in three days, Yendy’s pine box was levitated out of the tower and across the fields.
EGG (PRESENT)
Bringing us back here.
To this quiet spot beside a riverbend, in an old ruin, surrounded by apple trees.
I tilt my head back and look at the sky. “What should I do?” The stars are asleep, but maybe one of them can hear my question and help.
It’s Nilah who answers. “Go to Starfall with me.”
My brow shoots up. “With you?”
“You think I’m letting the most interesting thing to happen to havoc in centuries walk away without me? Not a chance.”
“The Warden said it would be dangerous—”
“We handled ourselves pretty well before.”
“We hid in a chicken coop.”
“Think about it this way, Egg,” she continues excitedly, unphased by my doubt, “you want to return to the palace—but you’re still just a kid. You can’t defend yourself. If you go to Starfall, maybe you can train, learn to harness your powers.”
“But the Warden—”
“She doesn’t know for sure, you heard her! I say we go to Starfall and find someone to teach us. Once you’re strong enough, you can challenge the Silk Singers and actually stand a chance.”
“Sisters. They’re called the Silk Sisters.”
“Whatever.” Nilah tilts her head and grins at me. “What do you say?”
I fiddle with the last river stone in my palm, mulling it over. “I think...I think it sounds like an adventure.” I throw the stone in the water as hard as I can and smile back at her.
“Yes! Egg, you won’t regret this.” Nilah throws her arms around me.
After an awkward moment of not knowing where to place my hands, forcing me to leave them suspended in mid-air, I clear my throat.
She hops back and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Right, so, um, we should go back?”
“Yes,” I say just as quickly.
“We should hurry. Apparently the Warden plans another interrogation for you know who this afternoon.”
“Is he still singing?”
“He hasn’t stopped since they locked him in the cold cellar. I still can’t believe that rooster this whole time was actually...”