CONTENT WARNING: mention of murder and childhood trauma, slight sexual reference, mentions of violence and threat, funeral / death of a loved one
Áine
Once I'd told the children a story and put them to bed, I speak with Abigail in her cabin. It's much cosier in here than it is in the barn.
"Someone out there knows of your secret now, Áine- and not someone on your side."
Abigail is correct. One of the witch-finders knows of me, and I would be lying if I said I weren't unnerved by the thought of that. As long as one person outside of my trusted friends knew, that was all it took.
"Neither you or the baby are safe now. As much as I would love for you to stay here and teach us all...I don't think it's safe for you."
It wasn't just me, either.
"What about you and Mason? He knows about you as well. What's stopping him from coming back?"
"I can't leave here, Áine," she replies. "It's taken us this long to build something of a place to live for ourselves. I don't want to be on the run for the rest of my life. I know that's the life set out for everyone when they have magic in their blood, but I can't. I won't."
I understand exactly how she feels. I, too, dream of just settling down somewhere. If only Reynold and I could just live somewhere quiet with our child in peace. I still don't know why he was so against the matter. At first, I thought it was just because he was as terrified as I am of being found out, but...
Then, it strikes. Abigail could stay here if she wanted to, but not without my help. If I have to leave, then before I go, I have to teach her all that I can.
"Abigail, what magic do you practice?"
She gives me a confused look. "Practical, mainly."
"Good. That means if you wanted to, you could learn Wild magic. I can teach you if you'd like."
She flinches at the thought. Many do. People seem to think witches are all violent and unhinged, when many of them shudder at the thought of doing any level of harm to anyone, no matter how necessary it is for their own survival.
"What? I can't do that! I don't want to hurt anyone. We've both seen enough hurt. I appreciate what you did, defending me from the witch-hunter, but I couldn't do it so readily."
Abigail is a kind soul, but she doesn't realise that one can be kind whilst not being willing to let anyone do her any harm. What good is kindness if you don't give yourself the kindness of doing anything you need to, to stay alive?
"One time, I was like you, Abigail. I was afraid of Wild magic. I saw a woman burn at the stake when I was a child, and I never wanted to think about it at all...but my mother taught me to make peace with fire. It's not my enemy any longer, Abigail- it's my ally. It will keep me and my loved ones alive, and that's what matters."
She turns her head, and her eyes look like that of a lost dog's.
"Believe me, I know now how much circumstances change when you have a child. Knowing Wild Magic doesn't make you dangerous, Abigail. It's all about how you use it. Same with anything else. And I'm not saying that about having a child to imply that you wouldn't do whatever it took to protect your son. I'm saying it because I know you'd do anything for him."
Abigail doesn't say anything for a short while, musing on whether or not to accept my offer.
"You're right. I would do anything for my son, even if it meant I had to hurt someone else to do it. But I can't pay you anything more for-"
"You paid me to teach you and the children, Abigail. Whether that's reading, writing, or setting fire to anyone that dares harm you or your child...I will teach you whatever I can, Abigail. I promise."
And so, until I deem that Abigail can defend herself and her little village, I train her in the ways of Wild Magic. I'm no expert, but with what my mother taught me, and the tome she gave me, I manage to teach her enough spells to keep her going for some time.
[Cordelia Thebe's Diary entry]
My boys have returned! I have not missed Lord Volpe all of this time, and at long last, Charles and his matelotage, Pablo, have come back to Henford for a moment- and just for me. How I have missed their company, and not my husband's...
I tell them of Eduardo's escapades, and that after months of letting others do his dirty work he's finally out there hunting witches, but Charles tells me that pirates have nothing against witches. Witches blessed their boats before they went out on long voyages across the globe. Some controlled vicious monsters of the oceans, and made them destroy the boats of those who sought to do harm. Others used their magic to feed or heal any seafarer who came their way needing a helping hand. If witches are so helpful, then why did Eduardo lie to me? He's had me convinced that they are vicious women who seek to make life difficult for everyone else.
Pablo and Charles have both told me that, even with my status, all it would take is for me to make one mistake and Eduardo could easily turn it on me. A witch at this point isn't even a woman with magic, but any woman who says no to the wrong man. I would like to tell myself Eduardo would never do something like this, but I trust Pablo and Charles far more than I trust Eduardo. All of those women he's killed, how many were dangerous witches? How many were helpful witches? And how many were women who refused to submit when he placed a sword to their throat? It's awful... It feels as if I have been stabbed with a dagger, but my boys are right to tell me that it isn't just about me. Rich or poor, witch or not, it won't matter when I'm burned at the stake. A little dramatic, but they may be right.
I don't want to have to do anything about it, but perhaps I might...Oh, the life of a rich woman...It shouldn't be so difficult!
[Katlego's letter to Gideon, sent almost two months ago]
Gideon,
I understand it has been a while since we last spoke, but I have realised the likely cause of the illness that spread around Withernham. One of the women I have befriended used a poultice I made her for a flesh wound, but then she wound up with the exact same symptoms. I have checked the date on the bag of herbs I used as part of this poultice, and it is two days before everyone fell ill. It was the herbs I bought from the vendor, Henry, but he's never let me down like this before! Everything I'd built falling to pieces because of that. I'm beyond furious! If I ever see him again, I dread to think what I will do to him! Did you manage to find anything else out?
I understand that you are no longer a witchfinder, but for the safety of new friends, leave your response to this letter under the sign to Glimmerbrook, and hide it somewhere where the rain won't get to it.
Katlego
Gideon's response to my letter solely said to meet him at the Glimmerbrook entrance in a few days' time. He may say he no longer wants anything to do with witchfinders, but I'm still not going to let him anywhere near the others for now.
"Gideon. Your writing has improved a lot. I'm impressed. But more importantly, any progress?"
"Thank you, Kat...Annorin put Henry up to this. It's not his fault. He threatened Henry's family if he didn't do it. He was grovelling at my feet for some time, and he pleaded with me for help clearing your name. We've had some luck. The cunningwoman heard the news, the one whose home you lived in- and she's helped spread the positive word about you. Some folks' minds haven't changed, but some people did believe us."
I knew it. There was a reason that Annorin had arrived to that whole scene as early as he did...I wanted to tear out his throat, but I can't. I don't like hurting people. It's more fun to heckle them with magic, but I don't know what it's going to take to take down someone like him.
"I know how angry you must be, Kat-"
"No you don't-"
"-but as a good father, you will do anything for your children. Naturally, he's going to put his family before a stranger."
"Well, that's too bad. He put them before the wrong stranger."
"Oh, come on, Kat! Wouldn't you do the same for your family?"
Nia is nudging me. She knows I would, and I don't want to say it, but she won't stop nudging me.
"Of course I would. But this doesn't change the fact that I'm annoyed at him. My one shot at trying to make a life for myself after my boat got stolen and it was blown so soon. I came here expecting a land of new opportunities and interesting people, and instead I got a land of back-stabbing idiots who do nothing but stand in straight lines and eat biscuits. They think if they stand up for Annorin, his earnings will rain down upon them. Even I can't cure that level of stupidity."
Gideon chuckles and rolls his eyes at me. "Not everyone thinks you're at fault, Kat. Same way anger is getting to you now and clouding your judgment, it did the same to them. You know, I think the best way to clear this mess is to come back and-"
"No. I've found my home, and it's not in Henford, and it's not surrounded by stupid people. I'm not coming back."
"What about the poor people that can't afford Annorin's healing, Kat? Isn't that why you were so interested in becoming a healer in the first place? You don't want to just leave them behind, do you?"
"Why is it my problem?" I reply. "One, I'm not from here. Two, I'm not a noble. Three, I didn't come here to fix Henford's problems, I came here to branch out and try something new. If they can't look after me, I've no reason to look after them."
Gideon loses his patience, but I stand my ground with him. All I wanted to know was who did what, and whether or not my name had been cleared for my own safety. I have no intention on returning to Henford. My new life with new friends is all I care for at this moment in time.
"Very well, Kat- but if you change your mind, you're always welcome back. Plenty of people would be happy to see you again. Even the Peteran priest has your back, and he's never even met you. We can still keep in touch for the time being. If I can figure out a way to get back at Annorin, I'll keep you updated. For now, the best Henry and I can do is clear your name...at the very least so no-one comes after you."
Peteran priest? I remember seeing a monastery somewhere around by where my house was. I suppose word must get around, but maybe people will listen to a member of the clergy. That's good, at least...
* * *
With Iris on a hunt with the others, it left Ellie and I alone for the evening. Ellie has been a wonderful friend since I arrived, and has been for all the time I've been here. She's the one I've gotten to know the most. She also practices Mischief magic. With Ellie around, I don't feel so alone. The only downside is that she always knows when something is wrong. Normally, I do not like talking about such things, but my emotions are eating away at me, and Nia is nudging me with her beak again.
"I spoke with someone who is helping clear my name back at Henford. There's been progress made, but I can't bring myself to go back. I don't want to help the people that chased me out, I don't care what happens to them...but I feel like that's wrong for me to think that."
"I know you don't mean it, Kat," Ellie replies, in a gentle voice. "You're just angry for now, and I don't blame you. So are they. Once everyone has calmed down, then you might want to go back-"
"But I don't want to go back," I reply, my voice strained with tears...how embarrassing. "I never felt at home in Henford, but I do feel at home here and-"
No, don't say it. It sounds so...off. So horrifically clingy...but I can feel Nia pecking at my hair. That's her way of saying that she knows I'm either lying or holding back.
"I feel like I belong here. All of you accepted me the moment I stepped foot here. You all saved me from potential death, especially you, Ellie. You know what life is like back home, you practice the same magic as me, you aren't like everyone in Henford."
The light of the fireplace goes out, but the cold can't touch me, not when I'm with Ellie. Her presence alone is more warming than any fire. Nia hoots with excitement, soaking up the drama like a Henford housewife absorbed in a penny dreadful.
Ellie puts a hand on my back, which doesn't help matters.
"With you, Ellie, I finally feel like I have a home here..."
Without thinking, I lean into her, tears streaming down my face, like an idiot...what I don't expect, is for her to wrap her arm around me, so my face is leaning on her hand. She lowers her head and whispers to me that everything will be okay. She throws some wood into the fire, and it burns back at its original strength.
This is it...I'm finally home, and I never want to leave Glimmerbrook for a second.
Neither of us move for a long while, and Nia sits on the floor staring wide-eyed into the flames. The cold anxious chill in my stomach slowly dissolves.
"I hate it. I hate being open about these sorts of things."
"It's not a bad thing to talk about your problems, Kat. I know what you're like and that you want to do everything by yourself, but there's no harm in being vulnerable now and again."
"Vulnerable? What's vulnerable about-"
Crying your eyes out in a woman's arms? Quite a lot...
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what was I was doing when I did that," I sob. "I shouldn't have been so...I don't know. Forward? Clingy?"
Ellie chuckles to herself, and lifts me so my head is on her shoulder. The two of us gaze into the fire, and I feel a way I have not felt in a long time...I realise this feeling is not new to me, only that I've just chosen to acknowledge it now after months of knowing her.
I never admitted it to anyone- I had never understood the allure of men, but there were plenty of pretty women back home. I never did act on any of it, though. The women who admired men, they would do and say all sorts of things to show the man that they loved him, and vice-versa. Women who admired women? You admired from afar, and you hoped she was a mind-reader.
"You'll be alright, Kat. I know we've had to carve out or own little existence away from everyone else, but I genuinely think this will all work itself out. It'll take a combination of time and hard work, but it'll be okay at some point. I don't know when that point is, but for now, we have each other."
* * *
[Eduardo Volpe's journal entry, from a month or so ago]
The witch problem is thinning and the number of witchfinders is growing. I've given the weak men of Henford a burst of self-confidence. William came back freezing-cold, says a witch towards the outskirts of the countryside surrounding Henford blasted him with ice and then attacked him, threatening his life if he were ever to come back.
Described her as having long black hair, blue eyes, currently pregnant, with a 'notable' accent. and the other witch he initially tried to captured was red-haired.
[Eduardo Volpe's journal entry, from about three weeks ago]
Brádach has approached me willing to become a fully-fledged witchfinder, saying that he realised Gideon didn't have what it took. I told him he was clever to realise that and come back to me. Very shy and likely won't be the best, for but now I may as well take what I can get. He seems interested in finding the woman with black hair and blue eyes. Perhaps I will make it his first contract. Now that we know of her and roughly where she is, she'll have nowhere to hide.
[Brádach's letter to Gideon, from about three weeks ago]
Gideon,
I know you don't want to hear from me right now, but you were right about everything you said. I am seeking to put things right. I have become a new witchfinder for Lord Volpe- only that I do not plan to hunt any witches. I plan to find my daughter. I do not want to, but I will explain everything to her. I can only hope she will have it in her heart to understand and to forgive me, if she is still alive. I would not have done this without you - thank you.
[Gideon's letter to Brádach, from about three weeks ago]
if you so much as lay a finger on a witch you will be on the end of my sword.
Reynold
I pour the sun-blessed water onto her, so that her soul will merge with The Watcher.
I hoped this day would never come, but the time has come for all of us to mourn Mother Joyce's passing, as well as celebrate her life. I'd read some of her writings with the Watcher, and I had to stop before my tears ruined the pages. There were so many things she wished she'd done with her life. She loved us all, but she spent a lot of time mourning all that she missed out on through devoting her entire life to Peterism. She wanted to go exploring the world, yet she never once stepped a foot outside Henford and the surrounding country. No wonder we didn't get along particularly well sometimes. Maybe she was jealous, in a sense, that I might be able to both pursue my own life and work as the leader of the monastery.
Clem...I can't think of how hurt she must be. She was as much a mother figure to her as she was to me, even if Clem never saw her again after what happened that night. I notice she puts two hands to her chest, in loose imitation of the Peteran prayer, instead of the one-handed Jacoban one.
"I want all of you to know that Mother Joyce loved every single one of you, from the refugees to the regular churchgoers. Susana, Iliana, Elias...She thought the world of all of you, and she knew that you would all go far. Whether we know it or not, Mother Joyce changed the world for all of us. And although she's no longer with us physically, she will become one with the Watcher, and she will always have an eye on us. She will still be there if we need guidance, even if we don't hear or see it."
None of us want to say it, but I know what everyone is thinking- the same thing I'm thinking. Whilst I'm trying to remember Mother Joyce, all I can think about is the ordination. Most people aren't ordained until their thirties or forties. I don't know how anyone feels about someone my age leading the monastery. On top of that, how will they feel about a priest who isn't abstinent? Who has a partner and a child? Who turns into a vicious beast upon the full moon? Eventually, everyone will find out the entire truth, and their minds will likely change.
* * *
I can't bring myself to do anything after the funeral. I end up slumped against the door of my study, overthinking about past and future alike until Clem's voice calls through the door, saying there's someone to see me.
"Not now, Clem. I'm not in the headspace. Tell them to come back another day."
"Reynold..."
Who could possibly want me so desperately that it has to be straight after Mother Joyce's funeral? I suppose Clem and I aren't the only ones mourning. I tell them to come down, but I don't expect...So she did get my letter after all. I thought she would never turn up, that maybe she was busy, or something had happened.
She's definitely grown since I last saw her; she's beautiful, as always. I try to open my mouth to greet her, but instead, I just end up crying on her shoulder. The more I think about everything, the worse it gets. I put my hand gently to her stomach, and I can feel our child moving about. The quickening is a magical thing in itself, to know that your child has a shot at making it into the world. After feeling how restless it was in the moonlight, even before it was expected to move noticeably, I knew it in my heart that it had my blood and not hers.
I have to tell her at some point. Áine will need to know the truth about me and the baby if she's to know how to look after it at all. The moment it starts acting up during the full moons, she'll become suspicious anyway. I can't bring myself to tell her. What if she hates me, or becomes fearful of me? The Lunvinchenaîné have always been feared throughout history. Many didn't bother to tame their beastly sides- they gave into them, regardless of who got hurt. The 'modern father of werewolves', Gregorius Lunvik, did exactly that, and many of the Lunvinchenaîné worship him as some kind of hero. Then again, could I blame them? In a world that wanted them dead, could I blame them for becoming the monster that everyone accused them of being?
I say to her over and over that I'm not ready for any of this, and she repeats in a hushed voice that I'll be ready in time. I could stay like this until the end of time, in Áine's embrace.
