Sight Beyond Epik Sight: A Steampunk Fantasy Romp (Epik Fantasy Book 3)

by William Tyler Davis

  “Well,” Todder faked a yawn but needed the stretch, “if it’s all the same to you all, I think I’ll be hittin’ the hay.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to sleep out in the barn,” Eddis told him. “There’s two beds in my room, and I don’t mind a roommate. I’ll warn you though, I’ve been known to snore on occasion.”

  Todder nodded. “Won’t bother me none, I’m sure.”

  And true to both their words, Eddis snored violently, apparently chagrined at Todder’s own masterful intake of air. The children in the next room had trouble finding a circadian rhythm, but eventually they, too, were off to wonderland.

  Only three old witches had eyes open that night. Dora’s footsteps creaked back down the stairs. And hours later their querulous voices still quarreled quietly at the kitchen table.

  29

  The Girl with the New Gift

  Overnight, or over day—it was hard to tell—something had changed in Catarina. Gerdy couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something new behind those yellow eyes. It reminded Gerdy very much of the old Catarina, the one she still held a grudge against.

  Well, I can’t tell her now, Gerdy thought.

  Just when she was starting to trust her, to really like her, Cat’s demeanor had changed. And without Catarina’s help, it was going to be a lot more difficult to escape.

  And there was one other problem…

  Sanchez had fetched for Gerdy a stray sliver of a jousting lance. Fetch probably wasn’t the right word. If he heard me think that, he’d probably pounce back down here and take it back.

  And, of course, she was right.

  Sanchez hadn’t gone far. She heard him down a dungeon stairwell, playing with the thin rats who nested there for the winter. Food in the dungeons was just as scarce as in the city above them, even for rats. Especially for rats.

  Gerdy fiddled with the makeshift wand in her pocket. Splintering with every touch, it poked at the pads of her fingertips. She had half a mind to blast through the cell door now and make a run for it.

  She could use the strength spell, she knew—it was the one spell from her short jousting career she was good at.

  Her problem? It was sharper than the splinters that kept digging into her skin…. Gerdy had no idea where Myra was.

  She could only blast through so many castle walls before the Grand Sovereign noticed and put an end to it. Against him, her spells would have little effect.

  But I’ll have to try it anyway.

  Try? Try what? Epik’s voice was a welcome relief. He was the one person who could help her now, well, now that her trust of Catarina had waned.

  Nothing, she responded. I was just thinking about something.

  Catarina’s stirring warned her there wasn’t much time to speak with Epik. Hurriedly, she explained how she’d come by a piece of lance.

  That’s… That’s brilliant, Epik said. I wish I’d thought of it. So, what are you going to do next?

  I’m not sure. Could you teach me to vanish the way you do?

  Across the realm, Epik bit his lip. It’s not that easy, he told her.

  Epik, Gerdy’s thoughts swirled by, a blur inside his mind. I have to get out of here. How do you expect me to find Myra? Blast through walls?

  Epik tried to convey a shrug. It’s a thought, he thought.

  A bad one, Gerdy retorted.

  Epik did know one way to make this happen. He could gift her magic the same way Kavya had gifted magic to him. But Kavya had done it with her touch. The only way for Epik to do it for Gerdy was spirit casting.

  You’re gonna get me in trouble, you know. But what else is new?

  Hey, my foot just moved, Gerdy thought.

  Sorry, testing if it worked.

  I guess it did.

  Okay, this time, when I leave, I’m leaving a small piece of my magic with you. It should be enough.

  But, he cautioned her, if my soul gets trapped with yours or something, make sure you figure a way to let me out. There’s a book here with the Coven that might help.

  Deal.

  There was a rush—it felt like falling, like riding in a carriage over a bump in the road. Gerdy felt the slight tingle in the back of her mind of something new.

  Are you still around? she thought.

  My thoughts are.

  So, you made it back?

  I think so.

  No thanks to you. A new voice popped into both Epik and Gerdy’s heads. And it wasn’t a voice either was expecting.

  Kavya? Epik said.

  I feel magic the same as the witches do. I felt it leave and come back. They told you not to do that again.

  Yeah, well, I had to—it’s complicated.

  This is your first fight, Gerdy thought. Isn’t it…

  Well, hello to you, too, Kavya conveyed. Gerdy, I have something I want to ask you.

  Sorry, it’s cute. I miss fights—fighting.

  In the cell, Catarina’s eyes flashed open. She yawned, catlike.

  Sorry… I’ve got to go, Gerdy thought hastily.

  But Gerdy, I have to ask you something, Kavya’s voice came over as a cry.

  Sorry…

  And despite not knowing exactly how to do it, or, in fact any way to do it, Gerdy managed to break the connection.

  Back at the cottage, Kavya rushed to the kitchen and threw open the cupboard door. The shadow cast on Epik was large and intense, despite the drab morning light.

  If there was an exact opposite of the love Kavya showed him the previous night, this was it.

  He had to tell her, he knew.

  “I saw her,” Epik said. “When I was spirit casting, I saw her—Catarina. She, uh, she shares Gerdy’s cell.”

  30

  Decent Omens

  “Well, at least we know where she is,” Epik offered hopefully. “And that she’s safe.”

  They were back to their own cramped room—but nowhere near the bed. It was off limits, even to Epik’s thoughts.

  He leaned against the rocking chair, his back to the small crackling fire while clear across the room Kavya paced, unwilling to look him in the eyes until—

  “Safe?” she scoffed.

  Sometimes Epik said things he wasn’t certain of, not lies, but something close to it. This was one of those times. “Gerdy has it under control. She’s learned to use her magic. She has a plan, I promise.”

  “She’s lied to you, Epik! Lied about Catarina—what else has she lied about?”

  “Yes, she lied,” Epik said shortly. “But I’m sure she has a reason. I know Gerdy. She wouldn’t have kept something like this from me unless she thought…”

  “Unless she thought what?”

  Epik gulped. He wondered if this counted as the second or third fight. Or perhaps their first fight didn’t count because they weren’t together then.

  He remembered when Kavya wasn’t speaking to him back in King’s Way. Those few days were agony. And they weren’t even intimate, not yet.

  “Thought what, Epik?”

  He didn’t want to say it. The puzzle pieces had snapped together: Gerdy believed Epik would surely try to save them. But not because of his own wishes… Because Kavya wished it so.

  “Kavya,” Epik said slowly, “I know she’s your sister. But she’s done horrible things. If anyone’s going to help her, it has to be Gerdy, not us. We can’t—”

  “I know you can’t.”

  Kavya paced to the edge of the bed. Epik couldn’t see her face, but he knew what she was thinking. And she knew he knew. There was nothing to be done about it.

  The only solace Epik found was that they were half the realm away from both Gerdy and Catarina. And Kavya was without means of travel.

  But the day offered Epik a bit more solace—the witches failing to recognize his spirit cast. Well, that or they decided not to come down hard on him for it. Either was a win in Epik’s book.

  The witches did, however, seem strangely preoccupied. Dora was distant. She ran away if Todder came in th
e room. And Epik was sure he saw Schmilda pluck one of Todder’s gray hairs. But even that wouldn’t have been so strange had she not done it with her teeth.

  And Epik wasn’t the only one with troubles that day. Luckily for Brendan, it wasn’t the airship doing the troubling this time.

  No, progress on the airship advanced at a steady clip. Eddis, Millie, and the twins got to working from the designs as Brendan and Eddis had laid them out. The crew helped where they could, and they prepared for battles to come.

  Brendan did have his hands full. He tried—and failed—to pass Todder off to the other crew. But the old captain clung to him like he was his only friend at a party, which in a way Brendan supposed he was.

  They watched Millie do spell after spell with her wand held high. With the framing of the dirigible now mended, she began to layer sheets of mythraluminum around it.

  “It ain’t no illusion, that’s for sure,” Todder put a hand to the metal. “Another day or two and we’ll be headed off.”

  We? Brendan cringed.

  “What’s your plan, uh, Brendan?”

  Todder had studied the markings on Brendan’s uniform, unable to divine the rank. When the old captain had last seen him, Brendan was just a sergeant in the watch.

  Brendan pointed to the star and stripes on his epaulet. “It’s admiral, Captain.”

  “Admiral?”

  “A rank above captain.”

  “Oh, right-oh,” Todder said, unperturbed. “Well, what’s your plan, Admiral?”

  “Finish the mission, and return to Dune All-En.” When Brendan saw the captain had no grasp of what the mission entailed, he said, “Take out the train. That was always the mission. You don’t happen to have any insight from when you, uh…”

  Todder waffled. “I… I can’t say I do. One train came in with rocks, the other train left with ‘em. And that was that. Neither train was ever loaded with much else.”

  “So, the warehouse, it didn’t store anything?”

  “Just overnight. Nothing of value except rock. And maybe a hundred or so men like me.”

  Right, so, nothing AND no one of value, Brendan thought snidely. He nodded.

  “All right, let’s see if we can be of value here. See if Eddis needs our help.”

  Again, they worked until the early evening, and they went back to the cottage with the setting sun on their backs.

  The witch’s eyes lingered on Todder long after the meal was over. Though both eyes were on him, one was as clouded as the mid-afternoon summer sky. The other squinted through a monocle. That eye was light blue, the same color as the sky on a cloudless day.

  The children had all scampered off to bed—the crew and Brendan, as well. Epik and Kavya, had gone, but separately. Kavya went upstairs while Epik went to their room alone.

  It was only Eddis, Todder, and two witches arrayed around the smallish table. Eddis and the witches sipped the stale coffee. Todder pretended he’d never seen his. If he was going to sip on anything stale, it was going to be ale.

  Dora had her back to him washing dishes at the sink.

  If only, he thought, I had magic, too. He wouldn’t mind wasting some of its power on ale.

  “So, Albert…” Begonia had decided her course of action. “Your granny, she didn’t happen to have one of those typical witchy names, did she? Agatha? Esmeralda? Samantha?”

  “I don’t expect so,” Todder ventured. “Her given name was, uh, Rox Anne.” Todder took the plunge and a hesitant sip of his coffee. The flavor surprised him—ale with a malty finish.

  “Well, that settles that,” Begonia announced.

  Todder sputtered the drink back to his mug. “Though everyone always called her Rainbow.”

  “No,” Schmilda cackled. “I believe that settles that.”

  Eddis scraped his mug on the tabletop. “I’m all for ominous conversations,” he said, “but do you mind explaining exactly what is settled? It’s been a bit of a long day, and I’m afraid I’m lost.”

  “I’m not exactly sure what all’s being said meself.” Todder took a swig of the ale. Ready for it this time, the beer went down smoothly.

  “It’s your theory, you tell him.” Begonia’s eye narrowed at Schmilda whose own expression was that of cold calculation.

  Dora stopped washing. She stood there either just listening or with her head in the clouds, staring off in the distance out the dark kitchen window.

  “It’s not a theory,” Schmilda said. “It’s now been proven. Doubly so!”

  Todder found it hard to concentrate, his mind was stuck between their conversation and gratitude. Someone, he wasn’t sure who, saw fit to transfigure his coffee to one of the best ales he’d ever had the pleasure of drinking.

  “But what’s been proven?” Eddis asked.

  “His granny—she was once one of us. Part of the Coven.”

  “Hmm?” Todder gazed up blearily. They were all staring at him now, perhaps for confirmation.

  “Nah,” he grumbled, “that ain’t right. Gran spoke ill of you three. Come to think of it, she may’ve even mentioned all of you by name a time or two. Though I don’t remember a Dora,” Todder called to Dora at the sink. The witch shrugged without looking back at him.

  “Triply,” Schmilda announced. She rested her coffee cup on the table—loudly. “Dora, are you going to weigh in?”

  “Weigh in? Is this a wrestling match?”

  “You were off there again, weren’t you,” Begonia said. It wasn’t a question.

  Dora twitched, still facing the window. “I wasn’t. Witches honor.”

  “There’s never any honor among witches.” Schmilda sipped her coffee. “We were just discussing Albert’s lineage. He confirmed his granny was Rainbow, after all.”

  “As you thought she was. And I see he’s figured out the magic?”

  “Figured what out?”

  “The magic, dear,” Dora said. “Your old granny did a good job of hiding it this long.”

  “And I think it was still hidden,” Schmilda scolded.

  “Was it?” Dora shrugged. “Check his mug. Unless you found an old cask in the barn, I’m sure that drink is of his own making.”

  How she knew was beyond Todder. Both Schmilda and Begonia peered into Todder’s mug.

  “You were saying?” There was a smile in Dora’s voice. Todder longed to get a good look at her. Her voice wasn’t familiar, but something else was. Something in her spirit.

  Schmilda sighed deeply, then put her own cup to her lips. “It’s going to be another long night, isn’t it?”

  Begonia gave Todder the once over. “He’s waited this long to learn magic, I think it can probably wait until morning.”

  He’d heard worse said bluntly to his face.

  So Todder smiled at her cheerily, happy to feel the empty mug grow steadily heavier in his hand. It refilled on his paltry command.

  31

  Bedknob and Broken Sticks

  Another sleep, and the shard weighed heavily in Gerdy’s pocket. She heard water now, drip dropping, tinkling down the walls, falling from pipes and into pools on the floor.

  The temperature aboveground must have gone well above freezing, she thought idly.

  But Gerdy was still frozen and numb. Her fingers felt fat. They throbbed as she wrapped them around the makeshift wand.

  It is a wand, she kept telling herself, afraid her plan might not work.

  What plan?

  Okay, not a plan really, but an outline—a plan to make a plan.

  She’d even told the cat. It was Catarina she’d chosen not to tell. If anything, Catarina had been a good friend these past weeks but the last day, not so much. Something still felt off about her. Cat wasn’t sleeping all hours. Her yellow eyes were wide open. And she didn’t speak unless Gerdy spoke to her.

  Gerdy had dreamed again, back in what she assumed was Myra’s dream. This time she had made it all the way through the castle, back to the bed where Myra lay sleeping.

  Once there, she�
��d heard a voice. Not Myra’s.

  “Soon,” it had said.

  “Soon? What do you mean soon?”

  “I mean soon.”

  “But how?”

  Gerdy still longed for an answer.

  Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Catarina snapped to attention expectantly.

  Wallack snorted his small laugh. Snapping the key into the lock, he opened the cell door. Gerdy’s hold on the makeshift wand tightened. Her hands were buried in her pockets as the two guards with Wallack jerked her from the cell, then prodded her down the hall.

  Wallack yanked Catarina up. “It’s time to play,” he sneered.

  At first, Gerdy thought they were being taken to the parlor room, a room she’d grown used to—and they were led there. But they didn’t stop.

  The guards pushed and shoved her into the fireplace, empty of fire, though the day’s warmth was hardly enough to warrant going without it.

  Gerdy couldn’t help but wonder what torture was in store for them. Were they the tinder? The guard swiped her to the right as Wallack jostled inside the hearth with them.

  Down they plummeted, down into an abyss of black. Then the fireplace halted, and they were greeted by the Grand Sovereign. He stood in the center of a chamber room much like the one they’d just left.

  But in the center of this room was a bed, and on that bed was Myra, fast asleep in her usual pose, entwined in the blankets with only her long left foot poking out. Her mouth open and slack, a large stain of drool puddled below it on the pillow.

  The Grand Sovereign twiddled his fingers together impatiently.

  “Here we are,” he said. “And here Epik is not. You see I know he’s spoken to you… And I know you told him not to come.”

  Gerdy searched the room for blame.

  “It wasn’t me.” Catarina gestured to Gerdy.

  But Gerdy knew it wasn’t her because she’d never told her of those conversations.