CONTENT WARNING: Worries for a character's health, discussion of murder, one instance of bad lanuage
A few of the points covered in this chapter were ideas from friends, so thank you!
Lydia
There's going to be so much pressure on Josiah. He's incredibly smart, but still far too young to be taking on the kinds of work that Owen does. Josiah is always poring through textbooks, journals and everything else he can get his hands on, but no amount of the written work makes up for practical experience. The children will grow up without a father. Tilly and Alex will be devastated.
He didn't think any of this through. I know he was trying to protect people, but this is what happens when men get a sudden sense of swift justice - they lose all foresight, and their families pay the price. He didn't think about how this would affect his patients, his staff or his family. I want to grab his ghost by the shoulders and scream at him.
I can't lose focus on my rage; once I lose focus on my rage, the despair will set in. The grief will set in. As much as I love him, I don't have time to grieve right now. I have people's lives to save, especially when the witchfinders retaliate.
There's a thud outside, and my heart freezes over until I hear a familiar voice inside of my mind.
Lydia, it's us. I'm outside with Owen. He is still alive.
Valravn's soothing low voice melts the ice in my chest, but I still don't want to imagine what kind of infamy we'll have if everyone knows that gryphons are no longer confined safely in the past.
I open the front door, completely taken aback by Valravn's enormous and majestic true form lying across the floor with my husband tucked under her talons. Her eyes meet mine and I shiver. I almost feel like she's about to devour me.
Are you certain he's still alive?
Certain, Lydia. I would sense it immediately if our connection was severed.
Did that bastard do this to him?
Please, Lydia, try to calm youtself. We would all be better off inside in the warm. I'll explain everything.
* * *
Owen is surprisingly light in my arms. He looks paler than usual.
I wipe the blood from his face and lift him gently onto the bed. His steady breathing helps me to settle, but he isn't responding to anything at all, not even to Valravn's voice. She sits atop the bedside table.
Owen was to be burned alongside two other men for his magic. Eventually, I came in, killed two of the witchfinders and freed the two men and Owen. I was about to kill Volpe myself, but Owen demanded that he do it in place of me. I tried to talk him out of it once he started to charge his wand, but I couldn't get through to him. It was impossible.
I'm beyond thankful that Volpe is dead, but the weight of the potential aftermath weighs down on me. The witchfinder movement may slow down without Volpe, but there's no guarantee that the next person who tries to take his place won't just start the cycle all over again. He could even be worse than Volpe, if that's even possible.
Why didn't he just let you do it?
I can't tell, Lydia. I don't know whether it was an act of heroism or a personal desire for revenge. Could have been either - or both.
I don't know why he won't go careful with his magic. He knows it puts a strain on him. He should have let you deal with it.
The Annorin family have let someone else do their dirty work for years, Valravn explains. I suppose Owen wanted to take it into his own hands.
Thank you, Valravn. Without you, I dread to think what would have happened. I feel I owe you an apology for my husband's recklessness.
I hope you know that I will look after you too, Lydia, and the children. I am bound to Owen as his familiar, but that doesn't mean you can't ask for my help or a listening ear when you need it. I am here to serve the Annorin family, after all.
You're not our servant, Valravn. Remember that. You're part of the family.
She goes quiet for a moment and moves into a lower position, almost trying to hide her face behind her wings. I wonder if that's another reason Owen took matters into his own hands. He always tells Tilly and Alex that they're not his servants; I doubt he'd want Valravn to feel like she is either.
My thoughts fight amongst each other in my mind. I'm livid with him for his lack of foresight, but at the same time, I can see why he did what he did. Either he did it and found a way to weasel out of it the way an Annorin would, or a less-renowned person would have tried to futilely act against Volpe's reign and be killed as a result.
I will stay with Owen for as long as I need to. When he wakes up, you'll be the first to know. Please, take care of yourself.
Róisín
Every young witch knows the only way to stay alive is to keep running and never look back.
I did as the deep voice in my mind commanded me to.
I'm still trying to process what I saw - the huge gryphon seemingly speaking to me, landing, killing two men and then nearly killing Volpe. I ran as fast as I could back home at that point.
I don't know what happened back there. I don't know if the gryphon killed Volpe or if Owen did. A sickening dread fills my stomach at the thought of either. I hated Volpe as much as any other witch, but the witchfinders are going to revolt if they know he's dead.
Alistair doesn't even know I'm out - I snuck out to be at the trial and defend the man who tried to save my grandfather who didn't deserve to burn to death for saving people's lives, and yet tonight, there's every chance he committed an act of murder.
I suppose the closer you try to get to the people you admire, the more you see sides of them you wouldn't have noticed otherwise.
I bang on the door and my heart feels as if it's jumping up and down in my chest.
"Alistair! It's me! Please, let me in! I'm so sorry!"
Eventually, I see him storm down the stairs and he opens the door with great force, and the anger of Lunvin Herself written across his face.
"I've only just woke up! I thought you were asleep! Where have you been?!"
"I - I was-"
"Spit it out, girl!"
"I was at Dr. Annorin's trial!"
He grits his teeth like a snarling wolf. "You what?"
"I didn't want anything to happen to him! He tried to save Oskar! I didn't want him to be killed!"
I sink to the floor in floods of tears.
"I'm sorry, Alistair, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!"
Alistair sighs deeply, and holds me in his arms.
"You needn't get involved in other people's affairs like that, Róisín. It's not worth risking your life for."
"You risked your life for the good of witches," I reply. "So why can't I?"
"Why do you think I'm incapable of looking after myself, Alistair? I've had at least two witchfinders try to kill me before when I was a child. I screamed at Volpe and I felt nothing. Do you think I'd be afraid of a man with a sword?"
"Róisín, you're not a werewolf yet. You won't be until you're at least four or five years older. Lunar magic is powerful, yes, but it's no good when the moon isn't out."
I don't bother to respond to that. I admit, I cannot wait to be a werewolf. Nobody would think me to be an annoying, disobedient child if I were a wolf.
"Can I ask you a question, Alistair?"
"Of course."
I shift around on the sofa trying to find the words for what I'm trying to say.
"If someone you admired killed someone...how would you feel about them?"
Alistair lets out a little chuckle. I'm not sure that was the reaction that I was expecting.
"The man both you and I admired the most killed hundreds of people, Róisín. You knew of Oskar's past as a soldier, didn't you? - but you still loved him."
"Of course I did," I reply, a little sharply. "I loved him more than anything."
"I ran before I saw anything happen, but this...huge gryphon flew in, killed two of Volpe's witchfinders in an instant and then chased after Volpe. Owen stood above him when Volpe fell. I don't know what happened, but if I were to guess..."
Alistair's eyes bulge. "A gryphon? They've been dead for centuries!"
"I still can't believe what I saw. I don't know how to feel. I have no doubt Volpe was killed. Owen went from saving lives to taking one like it was nothing. I don't feel bad for Volpe, but it's a bit unsettling, isn't it?"
"It's difficult at your age, Róisín. When you're old enough, you'll realise that almost everyone you meet is as capable of taking a life as they are of creating or preserving one - even the people close to you and the people you admire."
I don't feel like that's the case with me. I don't think I could ever kill anybody. Then again, as Alistair said, I haven't found the wolf yet.
I think back to my father, also. He lost control of the wolf and nearly killed Aunt Clementia, and yet I still love him. Even if Owen did kill Lord Volpe, he's still saved countless lives, and tried to save my grandfather. Perhaps Alistair is right.
As I'm heading to bed, there's a knock at the door. Alistair rushes to the doorhandle in case a witchfinder has followed me home, but I'm glad to see it's...
"Uncle Eli?"
Eli was there too. I didn't see him run. Did he see everything that happened, I wonder?
"I'm glad you're okay, Róisín. I came to check on you."
Eli
I should be feeling more than I do about what I saw.
The trouble is, unlike most people, I know what Owen is capable of when pushed far enough. Most speculate about the cruelty of the Annorin family, and I know the ins and outs of it in complete clarity.
I stayed and I watched to make sure Volpe didn't do anything to Owen. Who knows if I'd have brought myself to do anything to Volpe, but there isn't anyone I despise more than Volpe and Samuel.
I can't say I understand why Owen let Valravn deal with him. Owen knows he can't overuse his magic, and yet he did it anyway. It isn't particularly Annorin to do the dirty work yourself. Valravn is his familiar; it's her utmost job to protect him, and yet Owen still sacrificed his wellbeing like that.
"Sorry, Uncle Eli. I know you probably think I'm an idiot."
"Of course I don't. You just wanted to stand up for someone you care about. So did I- but you need to go careful from now on, Róisín. I don't know what's going to happen from now on."
Róisín sits on the bed kicking her feet across the carpet a little. "You don't seem terribly shocked."
I don't tell her it's because it's not the first time Owen has caused someone's death, even if it is the first time he's done it directly.
"I don't want you to be afraid of Owen because of this, Róisín."
Róisín gives me a daring look. "I'm not afraid, Uncle Eli - I promise."
Given who her mother and father are, I don't know why I expected her to react any differently - but I don't want her getting hurt.
"I know you are trying to look out for me, Uncle Eli, but I know what I'm capable of. I've escaped witchfinders before. You have nothing to worry about, okay?"
I appreciate her having her mother and father's combined spirit, but that doesn't mean I won't worry about her. Róisín just wants to do what Kat and Clem are trying to do, and there's nothing wrong with that.
"Are you okay, Uncle Eli? I'm surprised you're so level-headed about it all."
So am I. I'm still trying to process my utter disbelief at what happened. I just hope that Owen hasn't done himself any more damage with the overuse of his own magic. One, because I love my brother and I want him to be okay.
Two, because otherwise, he's started a revolution that he won't be able to finish.
Katlego
The second time.
This is the second time that I have planned to deal with something peacefully, and the peace has been shattered by someone with little in the way of foresight.
I can barely control my fury, pacing across the room whilst Ellie tries to calm me down. Sweet, sweet Ellie. The more I try to do for this country, the more I wonder if I ought to stop - if I ought to let dreary Henford wallow in the misery it seems intent on creating for itself.
The more I think of my Ellie, the more I realise that there will always be people worth fighting for. The more I think of my mother, the more I wish I were more like she is.
"Is it me, Ellie? Is it me who's the problem? Is it because I keep trying to find peaceful solutions in a country where everyone seems intent on killing each other?"
I don't care about whatever happened to Volpe after the strange gryphon told us to run - after all he's done, I have no reason to care. The reason I did as I did is because humiliating a man to the point where his support started to question him - and stopped supporting him - seemed a slow, but safer option. After all, it was a part of what got Owen to realise how vile his own father was in the first place. My plan would have been to allow the witchfinders time to realise the error of their ways. That way, they would have eventually helped defend us, the way Gideon did so long ago.
I find myself nearly in tears on Ellie's shoulder. The backlash is inevitable, and there's an almost-certain chance that I will have to defend myself and others in a way that I spent years trying to avoid.
I can see what Owen has tried to do. He knows he's rich enough to do whatever he wants, so he did what every witch would dream of doing - but he hasn't realised that the abrupt loss of the witchfinders' leader will only cause chaos amongst them. They'll all want to be the new Volpe. Even with Volpe's lack of morals, the organisation of the trials and of the targets is non-existent.
Without their leader, there probably won't even be any trials. With Owen revealed as a spellcaster, they'll realise that absolutely anyone can be a spellcaster - not just the poor women. There's no knowing who will be accused and who will die because of these accusations.
Additionally, whether people have considered it or not - High Priest Thorne won't be so easy to deal with as Eduardo Volpe was. They may not replace Volpe, but whatever happens to Thorne, there will always be someone equally as dangerous to replace him.
