The Last Witch

Asher believed he had found a way to ignore the flashiest of it all. He hoped he had anyway, though it was still strange to see people walking around oblivious to it all. Those same bubble-like lights from the square rose from the ground at random intervals, and as the volunteers walked through them, they exploded at the contact, a burst of fire sweeping out through the air before vanishing. Nobody so much as blinked. As he made his way out the front door, he watched as lines of light shot from the ground, escaping from stones kicked around by boots and sailing high into the air.

‘Lieutenant!’ Clyde stood by one of the carts in the driveway, fixing ropes tied to the back. A woman stood with him, a mousy thing with a large bow on her collar and spectacles balanced on her nose. Asher waved in greeting, and started working his way down the stairs. Thankfully, Clyde rushed to meet him.

‘We haven’t caught up since before… well, before Dalvany,’ Asher said. ‘I hope things are going better on your end.’

Clyde only shrugged. ‘Who really can tell at this point? How’s your leg?’

‘Healing,’ Asher said. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Not exactly,’ Clyde said. ‘I know you were asking for some studious types to look at the ring in Valenda. We got a handful come up from Fanmaryh, and we’re heading up. Figured we’d extend the invitation.’

‘I appreciate that,’ Asher said. Though his leg ached at the thought of travelling all the way out there, with a demand to be moving around and nowhere to rest if that ache turned to pain. He did also really need to go to the Town Hall, especially if records were going to be hard to come by. Still, this wasn’t something he could turn away from.

‘Do you think you can keep up with us?’ Clyde asked.

Asher grimaced. He would not let this injury end his career. He would not let this beat him. ‘I’ll be slow, but I’ll be alright.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Clyde said. ‘Come on then.’

Asher couldn’t tell if the people blocking the road to Valenda were different from the ones that had stood there the first day he arrived. He hoped there was at least some rotation. Though, the structure hadn’t changed; a dozen or so farmhands and other workers were standing around a set of carts that had been parked and abandoned in a way to block the road completely. As the tired, boxy mule pulled Clyde’s cart up, two of the makeshift-guards stepped forward, and Asher realised they weren’t guards at all. The man wore a moth-eaten vest and his boots were shining and stiff and new. Like the woman, he had spectacles balancing on his nose. The second was far more androgenous, with short-cropped black hair and a travellers cloak too thick for such a mild day.

The horse came to a stop, then scuffed its hooves against the ground, huffing in frustration. Like at the manor, the stones kicked loose sent bursts of light up into the air, shooting up high enough to disappear into the clouds. The fog had reappeared too, bleeding through the trees and curling around the roots like reaching, ghostly fingers. Each time a tendril disappeared under the ground, white smoke bled out of the cracks in the bark and evaporated.

‘… they each came up from Fanmaryh’s expedition society.’ Clyde’s words cut through his thoughts, and Asher realised with a start that he’d been introduced to the newcomers and had completely missed their name. ‘They’ve been working on the habitability of Telkesi for a few years, but…’ he pointed to the woman ‘we’ve got the leading botanist…’ he pointed to the man, ‘esteemed doctor of toxicology…’ he gave a nod to the androgynous friend, ‘and recent master geologist at Belle Delejoius.’ Clyde clapped Asher hard on the shoulder. ‘This is Lieutenant Wulverman.’

‘Pleasure,’ Asher mumbled. He hoped there was another chance to ask their names later. ‘Do we need a toxicologist?’

‘I’ve got that a few times,’ the man said. ‘I’m a precaution more than anything.’

‘We couldn’t identify the plants,’ the woman said. ‘That’s why we came out here to get more information. If there are any chemicals we haven’t spotted yet, there’s only going to be more trouble.’

‘That makes sense,’ Asher said. ‘I didn’t mean to sound rude, I—’

‘It’s alright,’ the toxicologist said. ‘I’m just glad Clyde didn’t introduce me as a poison expert.’

He cracked a smile, and Asher forced one back. He didn’t entirely get it, but now wasn’t the time.

The ride up to Valenda was quiet, which Asher was grateful for. He found himself watching the odd lights and shadows that danced around the trees. He wondered about Penn, wherever he went, and his strange, inhuman eyes made of fire.

The cart they rode in contained him, the botanist and geologist, and Clyde. Enough people that it was cosy, but not so much that he was pressing into the others and becoming far too aware of unavoidable touching. Another cart pulled along behind them, rattling out at a different beat to their own, blurring the noise of the horses and the tired axels into white noise.

‘You didn’t get to run between the town and the rich toffs after all, huh?’ Clyde asked him. ‘I’m glad your back now.’

‘Oh… thanks.’ Asher didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. ‘Um… how’s your friend going?’

Clyde’s face fell. He opened his mouth to reply, then shook his head.

Asher’s stomach churned. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It was inevitable after a point,’ Clyde said. ‘I just hope no-one else has to deal with that.’

‘I hope we’ve seen the worst of it,’ Asher mumbled. ‘Lord Barque is going forward as though we have.’

Clyde snorted. ‘That dick hasn’t stepped out of the manor since it all started,’ he said. ‘He doesn’t know shit about what’s going on out here. Probably just wants an excuse to be in charge.’

‘He is next in line,’ Asher pointed out. ‘Though I don’t know enough about what’s going on to form an opinion.’

‘I don’t usually like you “mutual ground” types,’ Clyde said. ‘But you’re trying to look into the bigger picture so I’ll let it slide.’

Asher kept his face even. ‘Is there something I should know about?’

‘Just an opinion,’ Clyde said. ‘Got a lot of people trying to make things go back to the way they were, and I don’t agree. People aren’t coming back. The city ain’t coming back. Nothing good has come from this, but it’s a good time to start over. Not undo it.’

Asher swallowed. They aren’t coming back. He had chosen not to think about any of that. He still didn’t want to think about it. ‘I don’t know what’s going on with the politics,’ Asher said. ‘But I can’t believe that.’ He shifted, suddenly aware of the eyes on him, watching him. ‘Someone I care about is in there. I… can’t stop.’

‘I’ve said my piece,’ Clyde said. ‘But I admire the push.’

‘Agree to disagree,’ Asher said. ‘But either way, I still need to figure out what made it all happen in the first place.’

‘Anything so far?’

Asher shook his head. Clyde probably didn’t need to know about magic or spirits or missing records. ‘If we’re going back to Valenda, I’d like another look at the field. I’m trying to draw a connection between the areas of affect. I know Valenda was a field when it was first settled, but the other two…’ He shrugged.

‘Are there others besides Dalvany?’ the botanist asked.

‘There was a volcanic ring out on the farms,’ Asher said. ‘But I don’t think Tarinye ever had a volcano. Or a beach in Dalvany.’

‘That’s…’ The geologist leaned forward. ‘Not entirely true.’

‘I’ll take your expertise on the matter,’ Asher said.

‘You’d have to go back a lot further than Valenda being settled,’ the geologist said. ‘But both are possible at some point in time. Valenda was a moorland for tens of thousands of years, and there’s evidence to suggest that two-hundred thousand years ago, the sea level was high enough that the coastline… it could have been this far up, but I’d have to look into it. As for volcanoes… well it’s just a theory, and it’s not based on any kind of hard evidence, but there is a study that claims everything was a volcano at one point. It’s how the land formed from water. But that’s going back millions of years, and finding ways to prove it is not easy. So I guess if you’re looking into what used to be, it could be possible.’

Asher considered the words. Theory was possible when impossible things were here, but there wasn’t any real connection to any of the sites aside from the fact that it was possible. If it was around the same time, then Dalvany being a coastline wouldn’t match with Valenda being a field. There wasn’t anything to show why Valenda had returned to as early as five hundred years ago and the Golharie farm had gone back millions of years.

‘I could look into it more?’ the geologist said. ‘Though I’d need to get permission to see the third place if it’s on private property.’

Aria and Gershwin would probably wish they’d left him in the field if he sent half the town to their door. ‘Maybe stick with what you need to do first,’ he said. ‘If something comes up, I’ll ask after it.’

The others in the cart continued to watch him, and a new dread fell over Asher. These people would only go so far if they couldn’t see the spirits. Most of them didn’t even believe in magic from what he could tell, and even if they did, the nooses would be the first thing they thought of. Even Asher’s leads so far had only been Penn and Hadley, and if he hadn’t fallen into the Underlands, he would have no idea where to go.

Everyone here was at a disadvantage, and Asher didn’t know how to tell them what had really happened. How did he explain things without sounding mad? Not to mention, there was no way to organise anyone around something invisible. Maybe they were doomed.

Though, Asher didn’t know enough yet, and that was part of the problem. If he understood any of this more than he did, then maybe there was a way to convince everyone else. At least, there had to be a chance.