Witchsign

by Den Patrick

  ‘Do you think I meant for this to happen?’ said Kjellrunn. ‘I never asked for the Empire to tear my family apart, just as I never asked for these powers.’

  ‘You’re not the only one who has lost family to witchsign and the hated Empire,’ said the butcher, tears in his bloodshot eyes. ‘I moved here to get away from all that shit, and now it’s happened again.’

  Håkon spat at the sea and dragged his handcart with him, the wheels skidding on the cobbles. Kjellrunn had never thought she’d feel much of anything for Håkon except hate. She watched the bald slab of a man retreat into the town with a pity that surprised her.

  Her eye was drawn to the smoking hulk, beached and ruined on the shingle. A whale had washed up in Cinderfell during her seventh summer, drawing the townsfolk down to the bay much as the wrecked ship had yesterday. They had all marvelled at the size of the creature. Kjellrunn had cried for a full day when the whale died, and Verner had told her tales of voyages south and the Spriggani and Shanisrond to soothe her. The pain of remembering was immediate, rising beneath her breast unbidden.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Verner,’ she whispered, but none heard the words, which were lost in the commotion on the pier, forgotten in the preparation to sail.

  ‘There he is!’ came a cry from the stern of the ship.

  Romola stepped off the gangplank and fixed Kjellrunn with a hard stare.

  ‘You’re sure about this? He’s not going to be happy.’

  ‘What choice do I have?’ Kjellrunn sighed. ‘I can’t stay here. None of us can.’

  Kjellrunn looked to the gentle slope of the road leading to the pier. Steiner walked, trying his best not to hobble, though gods knew he had a right to walk however he wished. Marek lingered beside him, trying at once to hold him up with a protective arm while proudly declaring his son to the world. Torn between the two tasks, Marek opted for the former, a fierce grin crossing his face all the same. A clutch of locals from the tavern trailed after him, all chatting in a fever of excitement.

  ‘And now he’s a hero, right?’ said Romola.

  ‘Not to Håkon, perhaps,’ said Kjellrunn. ‘But he’s everything to me.’

  So much had changed in such a short time. There was a leanness to him, a hard edge to the look in his eye. His nose was crooked, broken she suspected, and his hair was burned down to stubble with more of the same along his jaw. He was etched in soot and marked by scars and suffering, and yet unbowed.

  Mistress Kamalov appeared on deck, squinting at the new arrivals. ‘So this is the madman who escaped Vladibogdan on a dragon?’

  Steiner looked from rogue Vigilant to pirate to sister and gave a curt nod. ‘And you’d be Sharpbreath, sister to Khigir.’

  Mistress Kamalov smiled. ‘I do not use that name any more.’

  ‘You never told me you were Khigir’s sister,’ said Kjellrunn.

  ‘No time.’ Mistress Kamalov shrugged. ‘I was busy teaching you how to use the arcane. Besides, I can not answer if you do not ask.’

  ‘Perhaps it would be better to continue this conversation in my cabin,’ said Romola, glancing at her crew. ‘They’ve only just got around to the idea of having a woman aboard. A rogue Vigilant might push them to mutiny.’

  Romola’s cabin was just large enough for the five of them; Mistress Kamalov and Marek took the two chairs, while everyone else stood. The pirate fetched five wooden tumblers and poured a rough vodka for each of them. Kjellrunn winced as she drank it and tried not to cough, while Mistress Kamalov and Marek knocked theirs back in one motion.

  ‘And how is my brother?’ asked Mistress Kamalov, picking up the thread of the conversation they had broken on the pier.

  Steiner hesitated a moment, his face serious. ‘Still on the island as far as I know.’

  ‘He is dead, yes?’ Mistress Kamalov said the words so matter-of-factly that Kjellrunn almost missed their import. Steiner didn’t reply. ‘He has been dead to me a long time,’ said the old woman. ‘But now I suppose I shall never have the chance to say goodbye to him.’

  ‘You’re not sad?’ said Steiner, a frown of confusion on his face.

  ‘Sad?’ Mistress Kamalov scowled. ‘It was he that told the Empire I had witchsign. It was he that tried again and again to convince me of the righteousness of the Emperor. It was he, my own brother, who demanded I join his Troika so he could keep a watch on me. Sad? I am furious. Furious I did not kill him myself. I hope he rots in Hel.’

  Steiner exchanged a surprised look with Kjellrunn and a tense silence followed. Marek cleared his throat and Romola poured more vodka.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Steiner, and the howl of the wind outside made Kjellrunn shiver as he said it, the look in his eye full of regret.

  ‘And I’m sorry too,’ said Romola as she poured Steiner another shot of vodka. ‘I should have tried harder to get you off the island, but it was impossible with Shirinov breathing down my neck.’

  ‘I think I know a way you can make it up to me.’ Steiner squinted at the map hanging on the wall of the cabin. He stood up and inspected the north-western corner of the parchment, where the Nordscale islands lay. ‘I think I know a way you can make it up to a lot of people.’

  Romola shrugged. ‘I promised my crew I’d never go back there, Steiner. If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, well, you may be in for a disappointment.’ Romola knocked back her vodka and poured another.

  ‘Things have changed,’ said Steiner. ‘The Matriarch-Commissar was summoned by the Emperor to Khlystburg to explain herself. Vladibogdan is in chaos and Shirinov is dead.’

  Romola let out a low whistle. ‘You certainly know how to upset the apple cart.’

  ‘I’m just getting started,’ replied Steiner, clenching his fists.

  Romola looked at the map on the wall and sighed. ‘Whatever we choose to do, we need to leave Cinderfell, and fast.’

  The truth of those simple words silenced all of them for a moment and Steiner looked from Mistress Kamalov to Kjellrunn and back again. ‘It was you, on the headland, summoning the storm.’

  Kjellrunn nodded. ‘Mistress Kamalov brought the wind, I stirred up the Spøkelsea, as best I could. We would never have started had we known you were coming on the dragon. You, on a dragon.’ Kjellrunn shook her head. ‘After all the times you scolded me for speaking of such things.’

  Kjellrunn stepped forward and took Steiner’s hand. The calluses were nothing new, but the scars that criss-crossed his skin shocked her.

  ‘Thank you. For going. For buying me time. I would never have met Mistress Kamalov if it hadn’t been for you.’

  Steiner slipped his arms around his sister and squeezed her close. ‘You don’t have to thank me. I would have gone if you’d asked. I just didn’t care to be told I had no choice.’

  ‘That was my fault,’ said Marek. ‘I’m too used to giving orders and not thinking about how they sound.’

  ‘We need to go soon,’ said Romola. ‘The tide waits for no man, or woman, regardless of whether she’s pirate or witch.’

  ‘So you are a pirate then?’ asked Steiner.

  ‘When the mood takes me. A woman can be whatever she chooses.’ Romola cocked her head to one side. ‘Won’t you come with us? I might make a good sailor out of you. Anything has to be an improvement on the furnaces of Vladibogdan, right?’

  Steiner looked out of the window to the sea, past the end of the pier to the horizon, where the flat line of blue met the ever-present grey. ‘One way or another I have to get the Spriggani and Kimi away from that island. And I made a promise to Silverdust.’

  ‘I want help you, Steiner, but I made a promise too. My crew are likely to mutiny if I suggest sailing north.’

  Steiner and the pirate exchanged a long look and Kjellrunn felt deeply uncomfortable.

  A knock at the door broke the stalemate and Romola opened it to reveal Kristofine. She had a sack slung over her shoulder and wore a new travel cloak. By the look of her red-rimmed eyes Kjellrunn guessed she’d had ano
ther conversation with Bjørner, probably the last one.

  ‘I need to speak to the captain about booking passage to Shanisrond. That’s where you’re heading, right?’

  Romola eyed the woman a moment and exchanged smiles with Kjellrunn.

  ‘It’s unlucky to have a woman aboard, apparently.’ She looked around the cabin. ‘But with this much bad luck I’m sure a little more won’t hurt.’

  Kristofine stepped into the cabin and Mistress Kamalov went to her wordlessly, taking the woman in her arms.

  Marek stood up and made to leave.

  ‘And what will you do, blacksmith?’ said Romola, holding the door.

  ‘I’m getting my tools and everything I own. Don’t cast off without me. I’ll be back in an hour.’

  Romola raised an eyebrow. ‘Going to be a crowded voyage at this rate.’

  Kjellrunn watched all these events swirl about her, watched the irresistible tide of onrushing consequences. The only one who appeared unmoved was Steiner, still staring at the map, still mulling over the promise he’d made on Vladibogdan.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Kimi

  The Spriggani found themselves confined by stricter and stricter controls. First the western borders of the Solmindre Empire were sealed off so Spriggani coming from the Scorched Republics were turned away. Within months the Spriggani within the Solmindre Empire were rounded up and taken. They took the men first. Many of the women fled and those who survived ended up in Yamal, forging an unlikely alliance deep in the south.

  – Untainted Histories Volume 3: Serebryanyy Pyli

  The everyday routine of Vladibogdan, much like the statue that had stood at its centre, had been shattered, shaken to the foundations. Kimi had taken advantage of the chaos and set herself up in the gatehouse. The Spriggani hadn’t needed much encouragement to join her away from the forges. She directed them to arm and armour themselves as best they could. The first day was spent looting the dead for armour and cloaks, or washing the blood out of clothes. Tief disappeared for a time only to return with Corpsecandle’s frowning mask, though it was dented and scratched.

  ‘I pushed him in the cove,’ said Tief to no one in particular. ‘He might as well be fish food than stink the place up as he rots.’

  ‘We should move the corpses from Academy Square,’ said Taiga, ‘or disease will be on us before we know it.’

  ‘She’s right,’ said Kimi, and though the idea of dragging the dead down the steps to Temnet Cove filled her with revulsion she was the first to volunteer for the duty.

  Silverdust was always on hand, though the Vigilant said little, his blank mask always turned towards the dark waters of Temnet Cove and the many steps that led to it. It was never difficult to find him, the aura of gentle light following him always.

  ‘You can take your mask off now if you like,’ said Kimi. ‘I’ve not seen any other Vigilants, perhaps they’re all hiding. Or dead, killed by their own students.’ She wondered what might be revealed when the Exarch discarded his uniform, wondered where he came from and what he’d lost. Silverdust nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t remove the reflective surface that made him such a mystery. Kimi shrugged and moved on, checking in with the Spriggani in the gatehouse, checking people were keeping watch and that they had enough to eat.

  Maxim had taken up with some Academy Vozdukha novices in the kitchen, all badly shaken by the open battle in the square. They sat in silence, huddling about the fireplace and whispering to each other. Always the same words would reach Kimi’s ears over and over.

  When is Steiner coming back?

  Sundra had laid out her square of black velvet cloth and consulted the bones a number of times, but her dark muttering had given way to the odd frustrated sigh, and even boredom. The priestess had no answers for them and time crawled by.

  Tief, Taiga and Sundra sat around a brazier in a guardroom, having pulled the beds into a semicircle. Kimi sat down beside Taiga and took some tea, feeling the weight of her tiredness keenly. It was all she could do sit up.

  Sundra stared out of the window, watching the snow float down between the buildings and alight on the rubble and ruin in Academy Square.

  ‘Fuck this,’ said the priestess as darkness fell on the second night. ‘I’m having a bath.’ Even Tief blinked to hear his sister using such profanity. Sundra swept out of the room with a deep frown on her face, her lips pursed.

  ‘She really likes that boy,’ said Taiga, when her sister had left the room.

  ‘We all really like that boy,’ said Kimi.

  ‘I don’t,’ said Tief, then chuckled at his own joke, though no one else did.

  ‘She keeps casting the bones,’ said Taiga, ‘looking for some reading or interpretation that Steiner is safe, but she never gets a casting that pleases her.’

  ‘He’ll come back,’ said Tief after a pause, as he fussed with Corpsecandle’s mask. ‘He has a good heart, and he knows to do right. No brains, mind, but you can’t have it all is what I always say.’

  Taiga began to laugh but caught the look on Kimi’s face.

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’ said the princess. ‘Maybe we starve, or maybe the Empire arrives and kills all of us. I don’t know. I don’t know what will happen to me or my people.’

  No one had much to say after that, and they settled down to sleep, or whatever thoughts that gnawed on their nerves through the chilly night.

  It was still snowing when they woke the next day and Kimi couldn’t get warm or find any cheer. She made her rounds and stepped out of a side door to cast an eye over the square. Dark figures made their way through the falling snow and Kimi was put in mind of the cinderwraiths, stalking the soldiers and suffocating them with ashes and smoke. If the cinderwraiths had returned then perhaps Steiner was close by.

  Vigilant Marozvolk appeared out of the gloom and Kimi pulled the mace from her belt and held it before her.

  ‘I come with empty hands,’ said the Vigilant, though the snarling wolf mask made her as fearsome as ever. ‘I want no trouble.’

  ‘What do you want?’ said Kimi, noticing other people following Marozvolk in the gloom.

  ‘Just that these novices be given a chance to escape.’

  Kimi nodded. She lowered the mace and the tension drained out of her. ‘Of course, but we have no plan and we have no ship. We’re hoping Steiner returns with one, but so far nothing.’

  The novices from Academy Voda bustled past Kimi, glad to be inside and in the warm. They joined Maxim and the Vozdukha novices in the kitchen and began talking about the battle and the dragon and how Steiner had toppled the statue.

  ‘How are you?’ asked Kimi, though it felt strange to ask a Vigilant such a question.

  Marozvolk nodded, then took off her mask, looking down at the metal wolf’s face.

  ‘I am very tired,’ she replied in Yamali. ‘It has been a long time since I could take this off in public and speak my mother tongue.’

  Kimi smiled and took the woman’s hand.

  ‘We are all very tired, sister,’ Kimi replied in Yamali. ‘And it is good to hear Yamali after so many years.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Marozvolk. ‘All this time and I did nothing.’

  ‘Why don’t you come up to the guardroom? It’s a touch crowded in here with all of these children. Maybe you can get some sleep?’

  But the guardroom was not the haven of quiet that Kimi had been hoping for.

  ‘Maybe he didn’t make it,’ said Tief, who was making up his pipe with the last of his weed. ‘There was an awful gale coming from inland and that dragon hadn’t flown in quite some time.’

  No one answered.

  ‘And who the Hel is this?’ muttered Tief as Kimi led the maskless Vigilant into the room.

  ‘You knew me as Marozvolk, and there may come a time that I need to be Marozvolk again, so that name will suffice.’

  Sundra and Taiga exchanged an unimpressed look and said nothing.

  ‘Why have you come here?’ said Tief. ‘Do
n’t you have novices to abuse in one of those awful academies?’

  Kimi cleared her throat, but it sounded more like a growl of impatience even to herself. ‘She brought her novices to us, so we could smuggle them off the island, halfhead.’

  ‘Oh.’ Tief smoked his pipe. ‘Well, I still don’t trust you, even if you have taken your mask off.’

  The corridor grew bright and Silverdust appeared in the doorway, hands clasped together, head bowed in thought.

  A ship approaches.

  Everyone in the room sat up a little straighter and Kimi struggled to breathe. A ship full of Imperial soldiers could be headed towards Vladibogdan. There was no telling how long the ragtag band of survivors could defend the gatehouse, even with Sundra and two Vigilants on their side, if Silverdust was on anyone’s side.

  ‘Is it an Imperial ship?’ asked Tief.

  Impossible to tell with the snow. Silverdust glided down the corridor silently.

  Sundra cast her bones and pouted a moment. ‘All is confusion, many that oppressed us stand with us, that which was hidden has been revealed, and those who were slaves remain slaves.’

  ‘You got all that from one toss of the bones?’ said Kimi, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Sometimes the goddess is not so forthcoming with her portents,’ admitted Sundra. ‘So it helps to state what has gone before.’

  ‘Get everyone ready,’ said Kimi, taking up a stout pickaxe. ‘And I mean everyone. Vigilants, novices, anyone that can swing a mace. I’m not giving up this gatehouse without a fight.’

  Tief choked on his pipe smoke, then recovered and bowed to Kimi.

  ‘It will be as you say.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Steiner

  The Emperor was ever mercurial with smaller matters of court, and ever more so as he grew older. More serious matters brought out his fondness for scheming; intrigues could play out over weeks, months, or even years. To the outsider, it must have appeared as if orders were given seemingly on a whim, impulsive and violent. Life at court was never boring.