The Codex of the Witch: Fantasy Novel

by Federico Negri

  “Yes, he might. However the docks are full of curious eyes and ears and the baron doesn’t want to board a ship flying the English flag. We were thinking a meeting on neutral ground. Guaranteed by your witch compatriot, Cerriwden.”

  Kasia reads Jillian’s chagrin in her blazing eyes. Who knows what pressure she’s been subjected to before she accepted this role.

  “Excellent. At any rate, I’m afraid we can only agree to it with some additional guarantees.” Kasia gives the barrel of her blunderbuss two taps.

  “That’s fine,” rebuts Von Thieg. “We shall be armed.”

  “All of us,” hisses the masked blonde, rolling the knife up the back of her hand until it’s pointing at Kasia.

  ***

  “Captain, you need me there.”

  “Better you stay on board.” With a long stride Kasia paces the wood floor of the bridge, still partially covered with broken equipment. “Silla, I know you’re the best with weapons, but I need my first officer on the bridge. If they keep to the terms, we won’t need to draw so much as a toothpick. If they attack us, however, it won’t be an isolated action. They’ll come in force, so we won’t have many ways to defend ourselves. But if I have my right hand on deck, with our shells and machine guns aimed at the marble buildings, we ought to have a few more possibilities.”

  “I’ll go with you, Auntie.”

  Kasia turns to strike thunderbolts at the young witch with her glare. “And who will stay here with Lili?”

  “I don’t need babysitters,” a quivering voice rises from the stairs.

  “Lili!” Riger gets up and rushes to hold her up by her arm. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was starting to grow restless below deck.”

  “Lili.” Kasia draws close, caressing her face. “You shouldn’t get up. You still need to rest, please.”

  “Indeed, my legs do feel like jelly. Let me sit.”

  “Come here.” Riger leads her to the lookout’s armchair.

  “You need to go back below deck, Lili,” Kasia adds. “Sister, we’re already in hot water, having you here on the bridge is one more thing to worry about.”

  “Okay, okay, I just wanted to see where we’ve ended up. I’ll go back downstairs. On the condition that you don’t leave me with any babysitter. I can take care of myself.”

  “Captain.” Silla rises from her station, taking a step towards her. “Lili and I will be fine here on the ship. If you don’t want to take me with you at least take the rest of our forces.”

  “Alright, alright, by the devil!” Her crew organizing themselves against her decisions, that’s the last thing she needs. Perhaps it is wise counsel.

  “And the boys?” Riger asks.

  “Guild Poe will come, willing or unwilling. And Hansi, all things considered, is useless here on the ship. He’s shown himself to be a sharp boy up until now and if we need a translator, seeing how Silla is staying here, he could be of use. In fact, Riger, bring them both up here.”

  “Do you trust that Cerriwden?” Silla asks, pronouncing the name as if it were covered with salt.

  “Their clan has never been trustworthy. During the war, they stayed out of the Englishmen’s games as much as they could. Many said they were double agents, that they were actually spies for the Dutch. But that Jillian is young, she was just a girl then. She served us drinks at table during our meetings, I remember her.”

  “She’s still a Cerriwden,” Silla hisses. “They whisper that they sold us out at Dieppe.”

  “Sister, the war is over.” Even though for Silla it will never be over. Kasia bets Silla still wears an English army uniform under her black lace.

  “Captain.” Guild Poe bows his head to pass through the bridge’s threshold, followed by Riger.

  Hansi brings up the rear, and greets her with a nod of his head.

  Kasia considers for a moment the strange travelling companion, who with every hour on the Needle has become surer of himself and oddly calmer as the world fell apart around them. She asks herself how much of this awareness is due to the support of the young little witch who is consuming him with her eyes on the other side of the deck. Kasia scrutinizes first one then the other before forced to look elsewhere.

  “Guild Poe,” Kasia begins, “the baron is very anxious to see you. And sadly I cannot stop him.”

  “Is he coming here?” is all he asks, expressionless.

  “He doesn’t want to come on board. We need to meet him outside, on the docks.”

  Guild Poe smiles, but soon his grin transforms into a scowl. “And once we’re outside, what will stop him from kidnapping me, or killing me? Though maybe that’s what you want, eh, Captain? Otherwise who else is going to pay you for me?”

  “If I wanted to deliver you to him I wouldn’t be doing all this dancing around. I’d have you tied up like a roast and presented you on a silver platter. You won’t be handed over. I’ve promised you and furthermore it would be no help to me. Leonardo promised me a sweet-smelling sum in exchange for carrying you to Londion.”

  “But how are you going to take me to Londion when your airship can’t even fly anymore?”

  “Leonardo’s working for someone. Englishmen, I think. There are banks where this counts for something. Perhaps he’ll come here himself in a few hours, or a few days. Our dogfight over the Channel will soon be on everyone’s lips, and I’m sure he’ll reach us or send one of his associates to check on his merchandise.”

  “You’re a fool, Captain.”

  “Careful!” Kasia raises her finger towards him. “Don’t call me that again, on the bridge. And what sort of person entrusts his life to a fool? We weren’t born yesterday, Mr. Poe. We’ll carry out this affair just as we’ve profitably completed a hundred others. We’ve been given a job and we’ll do it faithfully. If we don’t manage to bring you to Londion, we’ll safeguard you here until our customer comes to fetch you. The Santuinis respect their contracts; they know this across all the docks of Europe.”

  “So you intend to parade me around in public here in Den Haag? And then hopefully bring me back, onto your airship?”

  “That’s it exactly. I’ll be coming with you, together with my crew and we’ll be armed to the teeth. Another witch will mediate the meeting and support us while we’re in the baron’s presence.”

  “They could just surround us with the army.”

  “Of course they could, but I don’t think it would work out well for them. You’re forgetting a small detail.”

  “That is?”

  “We’re not just merchants. We’re witches.”

  ***

  Kasia strikes her staff against the plane of the cargo deck. A dull resonance, wood against wood, fiber against fiber, that reverberates in the soul. She feels the hands of her sisters on the same rod, higher up.

  They’re standing by her side. She on the other hand sits, legs crossed, both hands pressed against the old ash staff with its dark paint.

  Thump, another vibration. The wood is old and heavy with souls. The dragon is wary and doesn’t want to break away from her black heart. Another blow against the floor.

  Forward, old dragon, rise into the staff, Kasia whispers, inside herself. My sisters are working to support me, but you’re not here. I still need you. I will always need you, but rest now for a few minutes on this nice black branch.

  Again the stick echoes against the floor. She feels the vital life force of her sisters flowing over the ash’s fibers to aid her in that delicate moment. The mighty beast slowly lifts his head to look Kasia in the eyes. She tries to reassure him, you need to stay in the staff. Open your claws and let me go free. I need you to remain here, in order to be sure I’ll return.

  A muffled growl escapes from between Kasia’s teeth. It’s not her voice, it’s too low, too ancient and malevolent. The heat flies from her chest, through her arms and wrists. As if liquid lead were pulsing through her veins and flowing out of her fingertips. Thump!

  One last rap and the stick
is still, standing on the airship’s floor. Kasia doesn’t try to lift it again, she wouldn’t succeed. No one would succeed. She feels sapped of all heat, as if an eternal ice sunk into her bones. In her veins course a few drops of blood from the other two witches, the only sustenance that can keep her alive, far from her heart of fire. She opens her eyes and lets go of the staff. Her hands are bluish white in color and her fingertips purple and livid. She doesn’t dare imagine how her face might look. She must have eyes black as two pits and the visage of a dead person. Dead for days.

  She rises nimbly. She feels light as a piece of paper and almost as fragile.

  Alina and Riger open their hands in turn, leaving the stick to balance on its own.

  “We’re ready,” Kasia orders the two men, who look at her bewildered. “I left a piece of myself on this ship, attached to that wood. When I decide to return no one can hold me back, not even an army of Dutchmen. So, Guild Poe, stay close to me, without fear, and you’ll see that you come back.”

  Alina and Riger are weakened by the effort to sustain her, but armed to the teeth they still look intimidating. Even little Alina, seen from afar, could instill some fear, so long as they don’t let enemies get too close and catch sight of her doe eyes.

  In the end, they even gave Hansi a small revolver, little more than a toy, but it may give him some gravitas at least so long as it stays sheathed in its leather holster.

  Kasia slides her arm under Guild Poe’s elbow and sets off beside him toward the hold door leading to the gangplank. The cool evening strikes her face as soon as the exit opens.

  On the other end of the walkway on the docks, Jillian Cerriwden awaits her, escorted by four guards standing tall in their dark blue uniforms with yellow trim. Next to them, two feet away is the masked woman wrapped in a blue leather coat.

  Cerriwden is a young captain, but she isn’t untested. She knows it’s a dangerous mission and she came alone so as not to put her crew in peril. She didn’t bring any weapons with her, apart from a knife concealed inside her boot perhaps, a very clear sign. It says that, in case of trouble, she’ll take off at the speed of sound—don’t count on her.

  Kasia walks the few yards that separate her from these companions and greets the other witch with a brief nod of her head.

  “We’re going down a level,” Jillian says. “These gentlemen will escort us since it’s forbidden to walk around the docks armed and I see you haven’t held back.” Her gaze rests first on Hansi and then on Guild Poe. Kasia can easily read the unspoken questions on her face. Two males on board a witches’ airship? Guild Poe is apparently an important specimen, the object the Dutchmen’s desire, but the other one?

  The guards examine Kasia with nervous glances and quick murmurs amongst themselves.

  “Witchcraft is forbidden here,” orders the one with the most stripes on his shoulder.

  Kasia looks at him with her eyes black as holes in space. “Everyone has their weapons.” She pulls her hood over her head, hiding her face in shadow to calm the guard. “No one will notice it, have no fear.”

  “I take responsibility, Lieutenant,” the blonde in the mask says with a voice sweet as a spoonful of milk. “This way.” She heads along the dock’s exterior walkway.

  Their little party sets off, eliciting curious looks from the few loafers who amuse themselves on the docks at this late hour.

  There’s too many of us, thinks Kasia. This move was a stupid idea, we’re making a spectacle. We should have found another way.

  She observes left and right, but every barrel and every crate along their path seems to hide enemies. They pass through the large golden gate that demarcates the port area, without declaring any personal details. Walking ghosts, easy to make disappear without leaving a trace.

  Instinctively, she squeezes Guild Poe’s arm. Their trump card. Or at least the only card in their hard left to play.

  “We need to go down to the warehouse level,” the woman in the mask announces after a few minutes’ silent procession.

  They proceed along the wall of a small stone house, down a poorly lit alley. At the end of the street, a metal gate leads to a dilapidated staircase that descends into the darkness below.

  It’s too dark, thinks Kasia. We’re doing everything wrong; we should have met in an open place, in plain sight.

  The masked woman leads the way, followed by Alina and two of the four military men. She, Guild Poe, and Hansi complete the parade with Cerriwden, Riger, and the last two foot soldiers behind them. The stairs are narrow, and they walk down single file.

  Kasia is almost halfway down the staircase when she’s surprised by a shout from below: “Gingelmann!”

  Everyone freezes in their tracks. “Who goes there?” demands the police lieutenant.

  “Hansi Gingelmann.” A tall man, dressed in a handsome overcoat with gold embroidery and very short milk-white hair, steps out of the shadows and appears on the last step of the stairway.

  Kasia turns towards the young German, questioning him with her eyes.

  His face has gone pale and he’s desperately fumbling under his jacket in search of the small revolver.

  The guards aim their guns at the newcomer.

  “Easy!” Kasia says, but her voice is lost among the soldier’s shouts ordering the man to make way.

  He remains nonplussed and in a brazen tone announces, “That man, Anselmus Gingelmann, owes me money.”

  Behind him, a blonde young man advances with the light-colored uniform of the Palatinate on his back. He sways with his hands in his pockets. He props himself up against the white-haired man’s shoulder and mumbles, his words slurred by alcohol. “I am General De Wittis. Lower your weapons and hand over that man.”

  The soldiers instantly lower their rifles and puff their chests out in a show of respect.

  “They’ll kill me!” Hansi shouts from behind her, trying to hurriedly climb back up the stairs.

  “Stop.” Kasia tries to intervene, but two men appear at the top of the stairs pushing towards Hansi.

  Alina spins around and points her blunderbuss at the new arrivals.

  “No!” screams Kasia, pulling down Guild Poe’s head to take it out of the line of fire.

  Hansi pulls out the revolver and fires an unsteady shot towards the two men descending the staircase, missing by several yards. Suddenly guns sound, bullets whistle from all directions. Kasia lies flat against the steps trying to cover Guild Poe. In front of her, Alina fires toward the top of the stairs with her blunderbuss and toward the bottom with the revolver. The first cries of the wounded split the air.

  “Riger, Alina, come to me!” Kasia screams, trying to overcome the clamor. “We’re going back!”

  Riger launches herself down the staircase and grabs her left hand. Kasia clings to Guild Poe and stretches a hand out until she grasps Alina’s ankle as the girl’s barrels continue to roar.

  Kasia concentrates on her eternal companion, the old dragon. She sees him shine in an ocean of flames a few hundred yards away, imprisoned on their battered ship.

  The beast opens his wings and lifts his ancient muzzle, fixing her with a glare full of reproach.

  “How could you hope to survive far from me?” it seems to say.

  Take me! thinks Kasia.

  The dragon spreads his wings and exhales his rank fire along the street separating him from his favorite, with all its devastating force. The flames’ tongues burn across the distance in a few seconds until they’ve enveloped her in a painful embrace. Kasia feels herself pulled off the earth and raised into the dragon’s dimensional plane.

  “Wait!” shrieks Alina, trying the free her foot. “We can’t leave him here!”

  Kasia grips the girl’s ankle with all her force but the boot’s leather slides beneath her fingers. A thunderous roar explodes to her left and the air displaced by the grenade blows away Alina. She lands far off, now unreachable.

  “No!” Kasia shouts, but the dragon, heedless, stops his red breath and pull
s their bodies back across the narrow dimensions of his reality known only to him. Kasia sees Guild Poe and Riger next to her, their faces distorted in agony, while around them dark semblances shoot by: houses, streets, men, shades of real people and objects. Kasia and her group cross through walls, doors and even people before coming to a halt against the staff planted in the Needle’s hold where the dragon finally regains possession of Kasia’s body.

  “No,” she whispers, laid prostrate by the furor of his spirit, a head of household returned to his castle, slamming all the doors in his path.

  “We need to go back to get her,” Riger wheezes, resting a knee against the ground.

  “Captain?” Silla’s voice over the intercom.

  “They attacked us, Alina was left behind. We’ll attempt a raid.”

  “We’ve just received,” Silla’s voice answers, distorted by the metal horn, “a communication from the port authority. It says, quote: 'Incident in progress, do not leave your airships. Curfew on the docks effective immediately, armed guards with orders to shoot on sight. Return to your ships right away.'”

  “You really did bring me back,” Guild Poe remarks to himself, touching his extremities as if to verify everything’s in its right place.

  “You’re costing me dearly, Guild Poe. Alina is a daughter to me, and there’s a limit to what I’m willing to sacrifice to keep my obligations. So,” Kasia rises to her feet, shaking off the last of her shivers, “come up with a good idea or prepare to move out. Silla, send an urgent message to the authorities; tell them we have two members missing and we must leave to aid them. Contact the Scourge as well; those idiots drew us into some sort of trap. I don’t think they caused it, but regardless they acted foolishly. I want their captain, right away!”

  “Captain,” Silla adds, “I have a contact at the edge of the graydar. It’s the Mala Avis, Guarischi’s airship.”

  “Leo! It’s about time! It’s about damned time for that accursed Swiss man to show up. Come on, to the bridge, let’s move it!”

  ***

  The grenade tore away the stairs’ railing, and she fell to the ground. The moss on the pavement appeared before her eyes, lit up by the hot flash of an explosion, and then it slammed against her face. Then nothing. Alina stares at the pool of red liquid, each drop of blood splashing creating circular waves. The smoke and stench of gunpowder plague the air. Another droplet forms at the edge of her upper lip and comes loose, arriving in the little scarlet pond.