Hara and the Witch

Chapter 18: Finding Chaos in Familiar Spaces

'Is it awful to say I'm not surprised?' Charvay asked, passing around flagons of icy, sweet drinks and almond fingers. Hara wrinkled her nose at her drink, instantly a child again, but everyone else drank and the zingy, slightly spiced liquid washes away all the remaining aches and pains from the storm calamity.

'Not surprised your sister is a renowned killer?' Hara asked, swishing her drink back and forth in her cup.

'I didn't intend to put it in quite those terms.' Hara waited. 'But yes,' Charvay sighed. 'Essentially.'

'I don't think it's terribly odd. Perhaps a little peculiar, something you wouldn't want to yell about... but fairly reasonable,' Hara concluded, sounding faintly admonishing for someone who hadn't been altogether shocked by the news herself. 'But why? Was there something about her?'

'If I knew Trif was going to start killing people, I wouldn't have left her alone with you,' Charvay said, pouring fresh drinks. Plim and Marigold had been quiet for some time, both wondering in their different ways what they could or should bring to this conversation. It had felt as if their presence, more than anything else, was the most important thing to give Hara. But now Plim spoke, filling a silence she felt her companion sinking into.

'Whatever... led her down this path, motivated her, maybe that's not important. Because you, Charvay, can never know. And you shouldn't guess, Hara. I need you to...'

'Plim?' Hara encouraged, stretching out a hand. As she spoke the bird's feathers faded until only the faintest purple remained. She flew into the air and hesitantly rested on Hara's hand, although she seemed uncertain and skittish.

'I don't want you to get lost,' Plim admitted after a heavy silence. A golden feather fell as Plim rustled her wings and looked out a window, although she wasn't looking at anything.

'Lost?' Hara asked, frowning. 'Plim, I'm not going to get lost.'

'But you might,' Plim whispered.

'And this - Trif... she's beyond you're control,' Marigold said, placing her cup on the ground and standing. 'You can't think you could have changed things, because it's too late for that. And if you think like that-'

'But I-'

'If you think you can then you might never stop,' Plim finished. 'We need you, Hara.'

Hara looked at Plim, at Marigold, at Charvay across the table; she felt all the worlds eyes on her, although only one additional pair was looking. She struggled against herself, reason and petulance doing their best to cloud the truth, the way Plim's words, Plim's fear hit something deep within her.

The truth was this: Plim knew Hara well. When they first met, the day Plim saved her from a pack of belligerent pixies, it did not feel like a new acquaintance but saying hello to an old friend.

Another truth was this: Hara would do anything for Plim.

'I won't,' Hara promised, hugging her friend tight. Marigold smiled as she watched the two, catching a similar expression on Charvay's face before she caught sight of movement outside.

'Oh bugger it all,' she hissed, slipping from the room as quietly as she could and storming outside.

She was almost there by the time she opened the door, eyes wide with surprise and confusion and lies Marigold did not care to examine.

Stepping forward, she blocked the path to the house. Marigold didn't exactly brandish her broom, but she did hold it just so and crackles of energy did flicker at its end in a suggestible way, all while she wore an expression that most clearly said "get away or I will use all my power to send you flying" - but no, she didn't swing her broom at the woman standing just outside Hara's house. Not yet.