40°49'37.0"N 47°42'45.1"E – Qəbələ International Airport, Qəbələ region
20.05.2024 – 23.15 UTC +04.00
Qəbələ Airport would never be the same after that day; that was for sure. The two covens had abandoned any pretense of respecting the laws of the non-Cursed and going unnoticed. Followers of Starling were using lethal hexes, whispers flying in all directions.
I was tempted for a moment by that; maybe if I grabbed a whisper and responded to it, led back to my coven – maybe I would be given a chance to clarify everything and remain under its protection. I wondered if Rəşid next to me was under the same temptation. His allies were tactically moving across the airport, carrying military guns and hexes by multiple tactical Curses. He had even arrived with them; he was no deserter like me, but he was serving a mission I did not understand.
“Why are you helping us?” I finally asked.
Amidst the chaos, our silent procession of civilians was following a golden-lit path through the chaos, unseen and unheard by the two fighting covens. Our combined Curses had shaped this hex, quite masterfully so.
“That Shadow cannot fall back into Starling’s hands,” he said frowning.
“This fight has nothing to do with him though,” I said.
When I first caught a glimpse of Hökümə and her flock heading here, I had thought Starling had sent her and her minions to seek us. But since the fight with the Men of Adil had broken out, I had rejected that notion: no one had even attempted to find us.
Sure, if we did end up falling prey to her hexes she would delight, but if her purpose was to find us she would have at least covertly tried to capture us. It must have been pure bad luck, us being here, in the middle of another turf war.
“How are you so sure?” Rəşid asked me back. He periodically tapped his fingers together. I figured this was a way to regulate his silencing Curse, but perhaps he was nervous. It was still unclear how his Curse acted, and I was taking mental notes for later when we would find ourselves in less aligned positions.
Ramin was at the forefront, literally and figuratively. He was now leading the procession, head spearing the Hex of Lot, in the safest position of all involved if you asked me. He was also the core of the mystery that had turned my life upside down the past few days. I just could not guess how.
“Do you have any way to calm them down?” Rəşid changed the topic, referring to the people inside our common ward.
Was that concern in his voice?
“Unfortunately, I do not think I have. They just have to persevere; I wish there was a better way.”
Bullets flew right through our path-shaped ward, crossing from one side of the golden path, and re-appearing from the other, leaving anyone inside unharmed. I reminded myself that these people would have been dead the moment the covens crashed in this place, like all the rest of the innocent bystanders around us. So even if our approach was risky, it could still end in a net positive outcome.
I did not avert my gaze, although it was a brutal sight. Most dead bodies around us were here to have a trip, a holiday even. They were of all ages, lying on the ground, butchered by shards of glass, shot by enchanted bullets, or simply trampled by powers that they would not comprehend.
I was not the only one noticing them. A few men in front of us were whimpering looking left and right at the carnage they were walking right through. Calling out to whatever gods they might, thinking no one would hear them. That was almost true; no one could, besides Rəşid and myself.
“Perhaps they can brave this walk,” I declared optimistically.
“And then what?”
“Then you let us fly an airplane far away from here,” I said. I did not want to reveal my plan to him, that I was chasing a vision to another continent.
I paused.
A vision I had when this man had abused my whispers. A vision that led me to an airport… all to meet him again.
My mind stumbled. Had I miscalculated what my vision meant? Was it really sheer luck we ended up in the thick of this battle?
“Don’t. Please don’t,” Rəşid begged. He tapped his fingers to get my attention. I had to remain focused, as my ward momentarily faltered.
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“What are you afraid of?” I asked.
He weighed his response.
“It was me, that put you with the Shadow, in that house,” he said eventually.
He had weighed poorly. I grabbed his hand and stopped walking. He stopped tapping his fingers. I looked him dead in the eyes.
My sight was lost diving into his thoughts, and all I could hear were whispers. No more airport, no more chaos, no more yelling. Only his whispers, his voice. Some were in a Roman language I could not speak. Other whispers, his thoughts, were loud and clear.
Tienen el segundo. Manden contacto a Madrid.
She is powerful. She could break him out.
El tercero debe ser liberado.
Ellas tienen la Segunda.
She is powerful. She could break the house. Set the Shadow free.
Take her in, Shadow. Let her heal. Let her speak to you.
And then more voices. Ramin’s voice:
I do not understand.
And finally, my own voice:
The debt of life you are taking forbids you ever from approaching this ward again, as long as the rain still plans to fall.
This had never happened to me before. I had gotten Insight from his thoughts, a Curse I did not know I bore. I opened my eyes, and he looked at me enraged by the psychic intrusion, pushing my hand aside.
We started to walk again, pulled by our own Hex to follow the procession.
“Was that the message you had me send? What is even in Madrid?” I yelled at him. This alliance was doomed, to begin with, and now I was trapped with this treacherous man in a Hex of Lot.
“You had me believe my coven entrapped me,” I cried at the top of my lungs, “but it was you! What do you want from me?”
“Witch, focus your ward!” He yelled back at me. The golden dust surrounding our procession trembled.
“I can focus, heretic,” I yelled at him. I willed the warded path to expand brighter, to further accentuate my point, “You made me a pawn to your plan!”
I screamed in pure anger as my voice echoed both as a cry and a whisper.
He kept tapping his fingers. I could see the desperation in his eyes.
A shriek of a hex crossed the airport, making metal crack and glass explode. Our ward lit up excited by my anger and reacting to what I could only guess was Hökümə’s malice on the battlefield.
One of the middle-aged women in the front jumped, cried, and fell on her back, outside the golden border.
This was it.
The moment she crossed the border; she knew what this meant. I did not need to be able to hear her thoughts. She yelled.
“No, let me back in!” She screamed and crawled towards us, her hands bleeding as she pushed onto the glasses on the floor. She could not see us or hear us, as was meant for such a hex. But we could see and hear her. In fact, everyone in the procession could. The women in the front who were standing next to her froze in fear momentarily, proceeding to walk. They understood the point – there was no helping her. If they tried, they would be doomed like her.
“No please, where is the path!” She begged and begged.
Rəşid looked at me angrily, as if it was my fault this happened. I was under no delusions and I would not succumb to his manipulation.
“You made me believe you care to save these people, walk them through war,” I whispered calmly and smiled. “All you want is for Ramin and you to get out of here. Was he in on it? Were all these theatrics so that I help? Answer me.”
“Please stay on course,” Rəşid asked, walking fast next to the path, prompting me to follow hurryingly. Behind us, the Men of Adil were running. I could hear them approaching this side of the airport again.
The woman who had exited the path stood up in tears, running back. Perhaps she thought she could reach me and plead.
There was absolutely nothing we could do but watch. I knew this going in. Rəşid probably did as well.
That angered me. I was left at the mercy of this man, all to fulfill intentions I frankly did not care to find out.
I grabbed his head and before he could react, I whispered in his ear, hoping to reach deep inside his heart.
“Do you know why Lot’s wife turned to salt? Why is Eurydice trapped in Hades? Because we are meant to care.”
Your plan will succeed Rəşid, but I will make you hear them all.
The woman started screaming. From her perspective, she was the only civilian around, lost and alone, surrounded by bodies. Caught in the crossfire.
Why won’t anyone help me?
One of the many bullets pierced her skull, ending that whisper in vain. Her body fell right in our procession.
The suited man – still carrying his suitcase – jumped startled right out of the path.
Please no for the love of god. Another begging whisper.
He ran around, disoriented.
“Noone abuses me,” I hissed at Rəşid, forcing him to keep walking safely into the Hex. We would reach our destination, as he intended. But all if not most of the people in it were doomed to spiral outside of the path, left behind to die. I had to make him regret it and feel it all.
Ramin walked steadfastly at the front, infuriating me with how far out of reach he was, and protected by my own Curse. I would deal with him once at safety.
The spiral continued. One by one, the civilians were consumed by fear and madness, and witnessing others losing the path, they followed suit. And every single one whispered thoughts of desperation, before a bullet, a hex or an explosion would slaughter them. I channeled in vengeance all those desperate whispers into Rəşid, who was walking hollower by the step towards safety, right next to me.
Mommy! One of the boys from the family of four whispered his fear into us.
The boy panicked and stepped to the side to avoid one of the men that were running around aimlessly. But he had now stepped outside the ward.
“Mom!”
Mom!
The boy yelled, doomed outside of our protection.
I can’t let that boy on his own, the overweight kind man in front of us ran right towards the boy, perhaps instinctively even. Glass slit his throat before he would even reach the boy.
His mother ran towards the boy.
Each boy takes one of us, was her whisper that I kept for myself. As she purposefully stepped out of the path to not let her boy die alone, the boy ran to her arms.
I let all the whispers flood Rəşid’s brain and heart, except this one. This one had not desperation, but hope in it.
I sent it to her husband and son – the minimum courtesy I could do fueled by her intention. A message not to look back and continue without them.
I let Rəşid’s mind free, and he fell on his knees, only once the path was long gone, and the last of us had entered a plane outside. Far from the crossfire and Curses, safe and sound.
“May you never recover from this,” I said and spat at him.
“I can see why you worked for Starling,” he said panting, “you are spiteful like the rest of those witches. Birds of pain.”