In the Shadow of Azkaban

Volume II: XXIII

Sebastian's Point-of-View
Outer Hebrides, Scotland
October 1893

"You are too slow!" Iskra screamed at me. Her accent was thick with dissatisfaction.

The wind had a bit of sand in the air, and the scent of sea salt reminded me of Feldcroft. I wondered how Anne was faring in Azkaban. I hadn't received word of her death yet, which I supposed was good news.

My body doubled over and heaved involuntarily; my throat filled with gasps of air that quickly morphed into wheezing.

I stood up straight to expand my lungs and cocked my head to the side. I spat on the sand. It mixed with the sweat that was dripping off my hair.

I already completed this course about twenty times, at least. Iskra was relentless. Her tone was a low growl while she barked orders and insults at me. She kept forcing me to run the circuit.

I rolled my eyes at her comment. "I've got it." I seethed at her. My legs burned as I picked up my speed before sprinting across a line of ruins she had previously conjured. The aching in my hips persisted when I jumped to the last large stone block and slid on my side to evade her grasp.

I stood up and whipped around to face her. She scoffed at my triumph, but it was my best time by far. What in Merlin's name was I going to have to do to impress her?

She had practically flown through the course, maneuvering her way through the obstacles that morning.

Iskra was brilliant. And after working with her for an entire month, I wanted to appease her.

She rarely locked eyes with me; her gaze constantly flickered around her surroundings. Her icy tone was dismissive when she warned me, "The next trial will have more at stake. Prepare yourself. I will allow us to rest first." She spun around quickly, and her mousy brown hair whipped against my mouth.

I raised my fingertips to my lips, noting the prickling feeling she had created. A grimace formed on my face before following her to the canoe. She took the lead, and I paddled opposite her strokes.

The water was calm today, unlike before. Last night, the waves were choppy, and I thought it would be funny to lean to one side of the kayak to scare Iskra. Unfortunately, she ended up falling into the sea, and I knew that she was bloody pissed at me.

We docked the two-seater boat on the shore and approached the small cottage on the main peninsula. It was really too bad that she hadn't fancied me. There had been so much time to spare during the night, and the island was desolate.

Aesop had been the only person to visit, but I had hoped the Ominis and Antoinette would make an appearance soon. I had missed them and wondered if they had chosen a date for their wedding. However, I hadn't received any owls.

With Milton sentenced to Azkaban, I was sure they were just occupied with familial matters. They couldn't forget about me that easily.

Stew was already brewing itself on the stovetop when we entered the abode. The smell was delectable, and I could not wait to just sit down and—

There was a loud thud when Iskra slammed a spellbook down on the table in front of me. "If you are to be my partner, you need to be studying constantly. I cannot have another one of you die." Her flourishing wand waved and flicked the pages open. She pushed the book toward me and gestured for me to read aloud.

Iskra whisked around to tend to the kitchen. She began chopping onions  and asparagus with a pocket knife, and I couldn't help but inhale the scent. It reminded me of something. The memory felt far away, and I could not seem to recognize the voices.

"I think I'm beginning to feel nauseous," A high-pitched voice sang.

"Oh. That's a shame." The voice sounded so close to my father's, but it felt like it resonated from my own throat. It continued, "What would you like me to do? I could rub your stomach or run my fingers through your hair to put you at ease."

Perhaps I was encountering a memory I had forgotten from when my parents were alive. It sounded so familiar.

"Just sit with me," The voice pleaded. I had a strong urge to locate the woman. She sounded like she was in immense pain.

Iskra's voice bellowed and pushed itself through my thoughts, "Sebastian Sallow. Read." Her eyes darted from me and then to the book. She continued preparing food until she turned around and handed me a bowl of soup.

"Bon appetit." Her voice was not playful, but it echoed inside my head.

"Bon appetit." My father's voice filled my conscience.

I closed my eyes. Flashes of Antoinette in a cottage I had never encountered entered my mind. I could feel her touch against me.

"Whoa." I commented. I gripped the counter in front of me to brace myself. There was an immediate pounding in my head.

"What's wrong?" Iskra inquired. Her tone was not that of concern.

"I-I don't know. My ears just began ringing, and it felt like there was massive pressure in my head." I reached up and rubbed the sides of my unkempt hair. It felt warm against my palms.

"Hm. Curious. We'll have to keep an eye on it. I'll notify Sharp. Perhaps you had eaten something poisonous." Iskra finally did not ignore the immediate concern and began to write to Aesop.

"I don't understand what's happening..." I mumbled to myself. There had to be a way to relive that memory. Just once. I needed to decipher it. Perhaps I was honing in on a new power; I could be a seer.