The Last Witch

‘I would at least like to get an idea of what we’re dealing with here,’ Asher said. ‘How many are still missing?’

‘We’ve been collecting names. Or, Torrey has at least.’ Norrah motioned to the red-haired teen, who nodded and ducked out of the tent. ‘Anyone who could report to the town hall or could for others they were accounting for did so in the first few days. Between here and Dalvany Manor, it’s a long list. It doesn’t help that the records around here seem to be lacking.’

Behind her, one of the volunteers snorted. At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged. ‘Night of Burning Gold didn’t help. We haven’t recovered since.’

‘Also the main record offices were in Valenda,’ the doctor said. ‘Much like everything else we need here.’

‘You’ll have to explain this “burning gold” to me,’ Norrah said. ‘I don’t quite know your kingdom’s history that well.’

‘It was a march on most of the Kingdom,’ Asher said. ‘The King before our current one was problematic.’

‘That’s an understatement,’ the doctor muttered. 

‘He raised the taxes beyond what people could pay,’ Asher said. ‘So many went into debt that it led to revolt, and they burned the public offices as a result. A lot of public and historic record went up with them.’ He shook himself. ‘What’s going on at Dalvany Manor?’

‘Space is what’s happening,’ the doctor said. ‘The tavern was already overflowing, and Town Hall is a base of operations. Lady Tremboui opened the manor up to everyone that couldn’t fit here.’

‘Well, to the ones who weren’t really old, really young, or in need of immediate care,’ Norrah said. 

One of the women in the cots behind them coughed violently, and the doctor turned on his heel, immediately springing into motion with three other volunteers. Asher watched as her chest heaved and she struggled against the hands holding her down. Her arm and shoulder had been claimed by deep gashes that edged black and purple, the skin breaking and bleeding openly with every movement. Standing a little way away from the cot, was the little boy from the market. 

The kid noticed Asher watching him, then ran over and wrapped chubby little hands around Asher’s shoulders, forcing him down into a tight hug. Asher awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, and he thankfully pulled away. 

‘I found mama,’ the boy’s voice was a whisper. 

Asher leaned over to match the volume. ‘I can see that.’

‘You helped!’

Asher had no idea if this woman was one of the ones he pulled free. ‘I tried,’ he said. 

‘I saw the fairies bring her back,’ the boy whispered. ‘Like in the stories.’

‘Did your mama tell you those kinds of stories?’ Asher asked. 

The boy nodded frantically. ‘She said they were smaller though, and that seeing one was good luck!’

‘They must be lucky if they brought your mama back.’

The boy frowned then, and shifted as though he were about to admit to breaking some rule Asher didn’t know about. ‘If the fairies are good, why won’t they come here in the sand?’

‘What do you mean?’ Asher asked. He swore internally at the thought that this kid was seeing the spirits. Of course Asher wouldn’t be the only one, but if others went around talking about it, it was only going to mean trouble. They would seem suspicious for seeing things that weren’t there, and anyone who went into the Underlands and claimed not to would only seem just as suspicious. 

‘The fairies,’ the boy said. ‘Outside. They won’t cross over the line.’

‘What are you saying, sweetie?’ Norrah asked. The boy jumped as though he had been caught, and his ears turned bright red. 

‘It’s alright,’ Asher said. Fuck, he added quietly. 

‘They won’t come into the circle,’ the boy said. ‘The fairies.’

‘Can you show me where these fairies are?’ Norrah asked. ‘Maybe we can ask them what’s wrong.’

The boy nodded and rushed for the tent flap, then paused and turned back to Asher. Asher struggled to his feet, this time only taking one cane as Norrah carved a path through the commotion to follow the kid. The boy bounced back and forth impatiently as Asher struggled along. He could feel the doctor watching him, and knew he was gonna hear about this later. 

His joints were screaming as he hobbled after the boy, his arms and hips so exhausted by the movement and pressure that they muted the pain in his leg. Norrah kept her pace slow to keep with him, but much like him, her boots and her skirts sank into the salt and grew heavy with the water beneath. Asher noted a group of surveyors had set up on the other side of the courtyard, collecting vials of the salt and prodding at the ground to force the water upwards. Asher made a note to talk to them at some point. 

The boy led them to where the ash line cut through the road, carving through brick and cobblestone to give way to the rest of the town beyond. He pointed towards the ground, and Asher’s stomach lurched. Small rivers of white light were running through the cracks in the cobblestone, and when they reached the ash line, they collected together into small balls that drifted up into the air. The boy pointed to one as it drifted up past his eye level. ‘See? They won’t go past the line.’

Asher swallowed. The same as on the farm. He’d have to go back up to Valenda to see if the situation was the same up there, though he suspected it was. 

‘I see,’ Norrah said. ‘Why don’t you give me and my friend a moment to ask what’s wrong. Go back to your mother.’

The boy nodded and rushed back to the tent.

‘You see?’ Asher echoed. 

‘No, I do not,’ Norrah said. ‘Do you?’

‘No,’ Asher said. 

‘Still, it worries me,’ Norrah said. ‘Especially for a story like that to come from a little boy. So far he’s been quiet. Helping where he can in the way children do, but not causing trouble.’

‘Do you think we might actually be dealing with fairies?’ Asher asked. 

Norrah threw him a sceptical look. ‘Those are just stories,’ she said. ‘I don’t blame the boy for coming to that conclusion considering the confusing nature of our situation, but there is an explanation for everything, and I will not see any of this explained away as “magic” just for the sake of closure.’

Asher nodded. A week ago he would have agreed with that exact sentiment. He did hold that same belief a week ago. Now there were invisible lights floating around his head that were also refusing to cross an equally invisible wall.

‘Don’t tell me you believe in magic, Lieutenant.’

‘Never thought much of it,’ Asher admitted. ‘I’m just preparing to have an open mind about the reason for all of this.’

Norrah stared at him. He thought he saw the echo of a thought almost pull her into a response, when the red-haired teen - Torrey - approached with a bound leather parchment. Norrah took it with a small thanks, and as the young girl ducked back towards the tent, she flicked it open. 

‘I don’t know what the watch have been doing to organise this, but I have tried to stay out of their way,’ Norrah said. 

It looked to Asher like there were two separate lists scrawled across the pages, all of them in different handwriting with differing levels of neatness. One of them he guessed was the list Norrah had mentioned before, of people checking in for themselves and for the people they knew to be still in Dalvany. On the other list, he spotted his own name in the middle, scrawled neatly with a thick ink line cutting through it. 

Underneath his name was a scrawl that read Cpt. Chavereau.

Navarre. 

Norrah caught his expression and frowned. ‘The names we know were in the market who haven’t checked in,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I know you two were close.’

Asher said nothing. He couldn’t for the lump in his throat. There could still be a chance he found his own way out, right? Penn couldn’t be the only way to get out of that place. Except, Hadley had stopped him from following for that very reason. If he went in further - if he went as far in as Navarre had gone - he wouldn’t come back. 

The image of Navarre being dragged into the darkness flashed through his head again, and Asher felt the urge to throw up. 

‘We will find them, Lieutenant,’ Norrah pressed. ‘We are all in serious danger of collapse if we don’t.’ She paused. ‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’

Asher nodded, forcing his gaze away from the spirits and meeting Norrah’s stare. ‘I have to do this.’

Norrah nodded. 

She helped him hobble back to the tent, and Asher scanned over the rest of the names as he limped along, wishing he had brought the other cane just to help balance himself. He didn’t recognise any names on the unaccounted list, though that wasn’t surprising when he wasn’t exactly local. He could at least see no name that had crossed his path since he got here, so he still had people he could work with. 

As he made his way back into the tent, the doctor gestured to a vacant cot Asher hadn’t noticed before, with a pointed stare that told Asher he had little choice in the matter. He pulled himself up onto the rough cotton, feeling awkward even sitting upright as the others milled around him. Norrah thankfully didn’t stay, and instead moved back outside, but Asher felt wrong. His limbs itched at the stillness, at the business around him that he couldn’t match. Sitting out like this was unnatural. 

‘Shirt off,’ the doctor ordered. 

Asher obeyed, shrugging off his coat and working the buttons of his shirt as the bustle continued around him. The doctor lifted a metal tube from a nearby table and made Asher follow it with only his eyes, then tapped and squeezed at his leg until his clothes had fallen free. Only the bandages wrapped around his chest remained. 

‘These been bothering you in any way?’ the doctor asked. 

Asher shook his head. ‘I think I slept through them healing.’

The doctor grunted and cut the bandages away, and Asher realised then that he hadn’t seen the extent of this injury. He immediately wished he hadn’t. The wounds had healed, but they’d also scarred in a way that would have made him afraid to stare if he saw them on someone else. Thick rivers of red flesh had been carved across his torso, slashing from his abdomen all the way to his collar, four of them warping the skin of his chest and stomach, hollowing them out and stretching what remained. 

‘You’ve healed well,’ the doctor said. 

Asher swallowed the bile taste down in his throat. These weren’t wounds. These were permanent. Much like everything else that had happened. 

‘You managed to beat the poison, whatever it was,’ the doctor pressed. ‘This is not the worst outcome, trust me.’

Asher nodded. It took strength not to run his fingers along the edges of raw skin. He felt eyes staring into him, and when he glanced up, Norrah quickly turned from him. He tried not to let his skin crawl. The doctor was right; this could have been much worse. Right now, he couldn’t be worried about something like this. If the others were also seeing spirits, then it wouldn’t take long for chaos to break out. 

Before he could get a word out, the tent flap flung open again, and Evelyn charged into the space. Asher jumped, rushing to pull his shirt closed over his chest before she spotted him. Her usual finery had been replaced with a simple travellers coat, and her powdered face and wig were gone too, replaced with a lined face with hollowed eyes, and wild, hastily pinned white hair. The sight hurt something in his chest, though he couldn’t figure out why. 

‘I’m over here, Evelyn.’

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the woman turned and rushed towards him with a cry, slapping both her hands hard onto either cheek and crushing his face together. She stared, her eyes glassy, and Asher could see wheels turning behind her eyes, as though she didn’t recognise him but wanted to. After a painful silence stretched on too long, she lunged forward and pulled him into a hug tight enough to make his shoulders pop. 

‘I’m alright,’ he told her. He thought it would be at least polite to return the hug, but she had pinned his arms to his side. 

‘I thought I lost you, Ashy,’ her voice was muffled where her head buried into his head. ‘I thought you were dead.’

‘I’m alright.’ He felt stupid, but didn’t know what else to say. He managed to wriggle free of her grip, then flinched away as she made to pull his shirt loose again. ‘I’m alright,’ he pressed. ‘I stayed out on the farms until I was well enough to travel.’

‘I didn’t want to see until I was sure,’ Evelyn whispered. ‘I thought you were dead. Oh, but your leg! And what’s on your chest? What aren’t you showing me.’

‘The leg is just a break,’ Asher said. ‘And I’m not comfortable with you pawing at me like that.’

‘Don’t be a baby, Ashy,’ Evelyn chided. 

The doctor cleared his throat. ‘He’s right. He broke his leg, but I’ve only got him on the bed for my own peace of mind. I could only give him the once over out on the farm.’

‘What were you doing on a farm?’ Evelyn demanded. ‘Where did you go? You had us all worried!’

‘I don’t remember,’ Asher said. He’d said it so many times now it was starting to sound like the truth. ‘I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.’

The doctor sighed. ‘I knew you wouldn’t listen,’ he said. ‘At least give me today to give you a once over. You can leave tomorrow.’

‘Couldn’t you do that tomorrow, doctor?’ Evelyn asked. ‘He can come back to the manor with me, back in comfort at his home. He’s not so bad that he’s here with the others, is he?’

‘No, ma’am,’ the doctor said. ‘But he was when the Golharie’s sent for me, and I want to check for anything that might help everyone else with the same problem.’

‘But--’

‘I’m saying this as a doctor, ma’am,’ the doctor pressed. ‘He stays.’

Evelyn sighed, and Asher couldn’t help feel bad for deciding to be a difficult patient. He wasn’t ready to go back to the manor, where Lord Barque and other high ranked nobles would be waiting, where another round of questions would probably start. Where Navarre wasn’t. For now, he would let himself be examined and prodded, because there were still things to do in Dalvany. The aches of moving from farm to town had been bad enough; while he was here, he could remove the pain of travel and start working to figure this out properly. At least, he hoped he could.