"I am calm. I am calm. It is the calm before something awful."
―Sylvia Plath
Lin rocked her foot from side to side as she flipped through reports. Lesser and major islands alike sent monthly incident reports to the Library, which accumulated into massive file cabinets beneath the forges.
Sweat beaded in her hairline and she returned another paper to its folder.
"Want me to check back further? See if I can't find a pattern." Razo drawled, plopping another stack of papers onto the table. Lin looked over the array of papers spread out across the room and sighed.
"Sure. Whatever."
Razo wrinkled his nose. "Never had to track a specific witch before, have we? Don't think many hunters have."
Her head gave a soft throb of irritation. Please, be quiet.
"Why does Old Grey want this one, eh? Any theories?"
"You're bothering me," Lin said.
"A witch with dark hair, dark skin, in her forties. Most of these barely have a description."
"This one's powerful. Strong enough to throw me in a fight." Lin slammed a book shut and pushed it to the side. "Can't be many of those around here."
"Shame there's not some sort of system to organize and rank their power levels," Razo drawled. "That'd make this so much easier."
"Give me peace, please." She grabbed another volume, a scowl carving into her face. Her eyes burned from staring at the awkward handwriting. Razo grunted and went blessedly silent. For a moment, the only sound in the dungeon-like archive was the crackle of fire and the distant clang of machinery as the forges pumped out weapon after weapon.
Razo slammed his boot into the leg of her chair, jarring Lin from her focus. "For-what? What do you want?"
He shoved his book at her face, pinching her nose in the pages. She squeaked in surprise and lurched away, scrambling to grab the book and get out of his reach. Razo erupted into a series of guffaws-half covering his face and his shoulders rounding to shield himself from the retaliatory book she threw at him.
"Shit! Why?" Lin ended up at the other end of the room, the book he'd shoved in her face in one hand and ready to be thrown.
"Ya looked serious and shit! You're never that serious."
"So you shove a book in my face?"
"Yeah. Pretty much. But also I found something. Fifteen years ago, when the Tibetan cluster got sacked. Page 52." Lin frowned and looked at the book. It was a journal. "One of King Wilson's ships was there. Picked up the witch responsible."
Lin shook her head. "One of them. Grey said the damage would have required at least five witches."
She flipped to the page.
It was Razo's turn to shake his head. "Not according to this. And not according to the rumors that've been floatin' around."
"Rumors? That might have been helpful two hours ago." Lin bent her head over the entry, struggling to read the handwriting.
"Didn't think they were real. And they're old rumors, too. From right around the incident. Talking about how the witches were going to rise up or some shit like that. Been fifteen years and nothin' serious, so I'd hesitate to put any stock in it. I mean-can you imagine? A witch powerful enough to level a bloody island all by herself? Thought we'd be dead if that were true. Burned up and drowned. But I guess it was true. A wee bit of it, at least."
She frowned. "'The young woman was pregnant with the King's child. She surrendered without a fight-' what? This isn't at all the description I gave you."
Razo blinked. "Oh. Right. Must be page 51, then."
She scoffed and flipped back. Then she blinked. "Well shit."
A perfect portrait of the witch stared back at her. She was younger, with fewer wrinkles, but it was the very same witch who'd fled while Alekhine stood his ground. While he told her to flee. Lin wrinkled her nose as the now familiar pang of grief rang through her.
"We already know she was one of the King's wives, though. What does this change?"
"Do you get dimmer every hour you spend without me? Everest. She's been caught there twice now, and witches aren't ones to repeat past mistakes. She's got a reason to go back to that island. A damn good one. Maybe a reason for her to go back sooner rather than later."
"It's one of Grey's blind spots. Makes me uncomfortable."
Razo blinked. "Oh, right. Makes my balls itch, too."
She glared at him, snapping the book shut. "I guess we're headed that way, then. Unless there're any more plot-relevant rumors you're keeping from me."
"I'll let you know if I think of any. I'm one of the old folk now, remember? Got brain issues."
"You've always had brain issues." She sighed, resisting the urge to throw the journal at his face. She shoved it under her shirt instead, pinning it under her arm and resting her other hand on her sword hilt.
✕
Sirenita still smelled terrible. Worse than ever, in fact. Lin breathed through her mouth with a grimace etched on her face. It didn't quite smell like seawater anymore. The reek of mold and blood permeated the soft surfaces of the seats and into the crevices of the machinery. Lin coughed quietly, trying to dispel the film of decay that had settled around her tongue and throat.
Razo was unbothered, humming under his breath and guiding Sirenita with the push of a button. The lights were ancient and flickered more often than not, but Lin knew she was a steady ship. She thumbed a bullet hole in the couch she lounged on.
"I'm still mad at you," she declared suddenly. "For lying about my mom."
He hummed again, this time in something that resembled assent. "Be worried if ya weren't."
Lin nodded, satisfied. "That means you owe me or I'll stab you."
"I'm taking you to the bloody Tibetan cluster in the middle of the night to see if a scary-dangerous witch who might be there is stupid enough to actually be there." Razo looked over his shoulder. "I'd say debt paid."
"Debt not paid."
"Paid."
"Not."
"Paid."
"Dick."
"Yeah, right back atcha, girlie."
Lin snorted and curled up tighter, pressing her knees against her chest. With nothing to occupy her mind, the memory of Greymark grabbing hold of her sigils renewed with a vengeance. It was like he'd tied strings to her bones. She could still feel them tugging at her skin and pinning her muscles in place like a bug. With a wave of his hand, he'd ripped any illusion of freedom from under her nose.
She hated him.
Lin liked to think she was not a woman who hated easily. Sure, she was a killer-a monster. Her rages sent her on murderous sprees that left enough collateral damage to make Greymark flinch. But she did not hate. She didn't even hate witches. She didn't like them by any stretch of the imagination, but she was indifferent to their fates. To them as people.
But Greymark?
She wanted him to burn.
Sirenita gave a jerk to the side. Lin pulled in a sharp breath through her nose and immediately regretted everything.
"What was that?"
"Sea's a bit moody tonight. Nothing our sweet girl can't handle."
Lin stepped out of the couch and stumbled over to the cockpit, leaning against the pack of Razo's seat to peer at the sea beyond the window. "Are we close?"
"Yeah," he said, "should be getting there in a couple minutes. Might take a bit to find port but we're making good time."
"Alright. I'll get my shit together. Want to come with?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not really."
Razo gave a good-humored salute before turning his attention back to steering Sirenita. Lin swung herself to the back of the ship, stumbling a little against the motions of the sea. She dropped down by Razo's weapons stash, flipping the worn plastic lid and peering at the mess of knives and guns within.
Her old sniper rifle sat at the bottom, well-loved and disassembled. She wouldn't need it for this, but she couldn't keep her fingers from stroking the smooth metal. "Hello, darling."
She grabbed a push dagger and a trio of throwing knives instead, strapping them to her hips. Another wave struck the side of the ship, making Lin grab onto a cabinet for support. The Sirenita was a makeshift home, designed to be napped in as much as it was to survive battle. Everything was bolted down and reinforced except the passengers.
Lin grunted and buckled her jacket up, shoving herself back to Razo. "It usually isn't this rough."
He huffed out a breath, the tightness between his brows betraying his anxiety. "Something's different."
The hull clanged and groaned under the stress. Lin's chest tightened at the noises, muscles tensing as they grew louder and longer. She might survive the seawater. She wasn't the best swimmer, but her sigils would keep the magic in the sea from burning through her for at least a few hours. Razo would die. He would be killed instantly if the water got in Sirenita.
"Any way you can make her go faster?"
He shook his head, patting the dashboard. "She can take it."
"You don't sound so sure."
"Either she can take it or she can't, no sense being pessimistic about it."
Lin twitched, the sudden urge to stab him overwhelming. It passed in a heartbeat.
The water smoothed out suddenly, Sirenita silencing along with it. Razo blinked in surprise. The rumble of Sirenita's engine and their tight breaths filled the air. He swallowed. "Well. That solves that."
Lin's mouth ached with how tense she was getting. "We need to get there now."
"Calm yer horses, girlie. We'll get there when we get there."
She still wanted to stab him a little.
He found the port easily enough. Half of it was rotting into the sea, the wood turned to sludge. Lin hopped from Sirenita to the rocky shore, bypassing the dock altogether and chaining the ship to a pillar of stone.
There was no storm. Barely any wind. The red water lapped against the rocks, turned placid. Lin kept on frowning even as Razo let out a constant stream of chatter to break her tension.
"Blimey, look at that! Is that-"
"No," Lin said.
"Let a man dream, girlie."
Lin scanned the whitewashed island. Pale stones and petrified trees were all that remained of a massive city, ruined completely by witches. Or a witch. Whichever, it didn't really matter.
Her sigils shifted uncomfortably, but otherwise seemed unbothered. "She's not here. Not yet, anyway."
"Are we camping out here, then?"
"Maybe."
Razo sighed, stretching. "I'll get the supplies, then."
"Be careful," she said. He grunted and kept walking.
The cobblestones were white under her boots, completely smoothed by thousands of feet walking over them across the centuries. She inhaled the thin air and looked up at the jagged city ruins that rose into the black sky. Her vision blurred before sharpening to spy the individual rooms. Magic had blown out the buildings completely, revealing the insides to the world. If she searched, Lin was certain she'd find bones.
She couldn't feel anyone-no witches, or humans. Just herself and Razo.
It would have been peaceful if the island didn't have the creeping sense of malevolence in every breath she took.
"Are you thinking of me?"
Lin swung around, pulling her gun from its holster and fixing it on the witch before firing twice. She stepped out of the way, fathomless black eyes striking against the pale of the city she'd ruined.
Lin threw herself to the side, cursing the lack of cover. Fire erupted from the cobblestones, seeping through the cracks and sizzling into a circle around them, caging them in a ring. The fire rose up, twice as high as Lin and a brilliant orange that illuminated the island.
Beyond that, the witch didn't attack.
She was older than Lin remembered. Frown lines and spots decorated her ashy skin, and silver shot through her black hair. Her dress was filthy and torn, spattered with blood. The witch folded her hands behind her back.
"Hello, Lin. It's been some time."
Lin spat, drew her sword. "What do you want?"
"Information," her eyes bore into Lin's soul, "same as you. My name is Honora."
"I don't want information, I want your head." Lin shifted her weight, trying to evaluate Honora's first move. She hated making the first move, especially against a witch.
Honora nodded, unsurprised. "And you will have it. Not today, but soon. I know you, Lin. I've been watching you. You value information above all."
"I tend to like killing shit a bit more than knowing shit."
Honora hummed, tilting her head. "Why do you follow Greymark? He's done nothing for you."
He made me powerful. Lin twitched again, a flutter of anger blurring the edge of her vision. A knife left her fingers before she could think about it. Honora stepped out of the way again, leaning a bit farther to avoid getting impaled by the long throwing knife. Sparks danced at the tips of her fingers before a jet of fire scorched Lin's hands.
Lin ducked beneath it, cringing as it caught her shortened hair. She rolled once and came up close to Honora, bringing the sword up. The tip of her blade caught on the inside of Honora's arm. Blood barely had time to well in the wound before Lin was sent flying.
She hit the nearest wall with a crack, splinters of stone crumbling around her. She hit the ground in a heap, curling to protect her head. Her sigils warped in confusion, healing her in fits. Her vision blurred and her ears blocked. Sharp awareness descended on her when Honora grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and dragged Lin off the ground.
"Watch your friends, huntress. You cannot protect them all. Not from me," Honora whispered in Lin's ear, "not from what's coming."
Lin gasped in cool air as the flames vanished, coughing up smoke and dust. She bit back a whimper and rolled onto her back. The sky was perfectly clear, stars winking down at her. She coughed again and choked on her own tongue.
"Linna?" Razo appeared in her field of vision. She hadn't even heard him approach. He pulled her up gently, then into his lap when he realized she wasn't making a move to stand. "Hey, Linna? Girlie? You alright? You healing?"
"You're so useless," she managed to choke out.
He huffed a laugh. His hands shook where they held her arm.
"And don't call me Linna."
"Aye, girlie."
She swallowed against her ragged throat and closed her eyes for a moment. Honora's impassive face stared back. Where her rage normally sat, a new feeling blossomed and settled against her heart: dread.
--
"People do not see you, / They invent you and accuse you."
― Hélène Cixous