Witch Bewitched (COMPLETE)

Chapter 17

Large bracelets clinked together, filling the silence with gentle rings that reminded Misa of cutlery. She regarded the woman sitting across from her, a small round table the only thing sitting between them.

The woman, or Sha'ka as Misa had come to know, was an alleged fortune teller who had dealings in the witch market. Sha'ka was not Plathean. Her dark skin, shaved head, and numerous rings piercing her face and ears attested to that. Which part of the southern continent she had come from, Misa did not know, but Sha'ka seemed to have come from different origins than the servant Misa had approached that morning.

The fortune teller hummed, keeping her eyes shut. Blue-green glinted off her eyelids like the shallow waters of the ocean. Misa held her breath, wondering what prediction the teller would give her.

The woman shook her hands, which were clasped together to hold assortments of little trinkets she used to predict the future. With a deep cry, Sha'ka released the contents, spilling them onto the clothed table. Bones, jewels, wooden pieces, and the eagle Misa purchased from the whittler scattered and lay still.

Sha'ka studied the result, nodding her head and muttering in understanding. Misa shifted in her seat. Her skirt whispered against the floor. Perhaps it was a bad idea to accept a reading from the teller when she had secrets to keep. But, it was too tempting to refuse, and Misa hadn't wanted to forego a chance of experiencing something she'd never seen before. Her only hope was that Sha'ka would only see the future Misa had asked for and nothing else.

"It's really quite unusual," Sha'ka said. Her accent was light, though hard rolls of 'r's tended to catch the ear.

"W-what is?" Misa didn't want to know. Out of all the topics Sha'ka had offered to read, Misa had chosen love. It was the safest option that wouldn't expose her intentions or her past, though it took everything in Misa to not ask about family. She wondered if she would truly never see her parents again, and despite all that had happened, she couldn't help but miss them just a bit. She hated herself for it.

Sha'ka nodded her head as if she was agreeing with someone. The long chain of gold charms hanging from her head in loops bobbed and tinkled under the dim lighting. "Very unusual indeed."

Misa wrung her hands. She didn't like the way Sha'ka kept her fortunes from her, but she managed to keep herself from demanding the answers.

"The Key'shuna speaks." Sha'ka hovered two fingers over a small fang. It curved towards the hawk but lay a good few lengths away. "If you're not careful, your lover may die."

Misa's heart skipped a beat. "Die?"

"Not to worry." The teller moved her fingers to a small wooden rectangle with a symbol Misa did not recognise carved into it. "The Raima says you may prevent the tragedy, if you recognise the dangers."

"How would I know the dangers?" Misa couldn't help but ask. She found it fascinating how Sha'ka could infer such claims from the random placements of the items and part of her wondered if the woman was making it all up.

Sha'ka narrowed her eyes into slits. Her stare made Misa uncomfortable as if she had asked a foolish question. "You and your lover are tied in magic." She trailed her hand to another wooden trinket. "As says the Tish'nu. I see you are a witch."

Misa swallowed. She nodded once. Sha'ka's predictions may have credibility, or had she simply sensed Misa's magic presence? "I have magic, but I don't know how to use it."

"Do you wish to get rid of it?"

Again, Misa nodded. She couldn't explain how Sha'ka could have gotten this information without supernatural forces. It was possible that it was simply a lucky guess, but by this point, Misa had given up trying to discredit the teller. It was far more interesting to think as if the predictions were true.

"You ask for what dangers?" Sha'ka placed her fingers on the piece called Tish'nu and flipped it over. Another symbol was etched into it. "If you do not accept what you despise most, harm will befall those you love. I cannot tell you how to prevent death, but if you continue down this path of destruction, you will lose everything."

Unease settled into the pit of Misa's stomach. She had no idea what Sha'ka was talking about. Wasn't her quest meant to prevent destruction and not to fuel it? Did it mean the destruction of her magic? Did getting rid of it equate to destroying it? Misa hoped not.

Misa, no longer wishing to speak of death, asked, "Does it tell you who my lover is?"

"Ah." Sha'ka's eyes gleamed with a twinge of mischief as if she knew a secret that Misa would not want her to know. "Sa'teyush does not wish to tell." She gestured to the gold square with a small ruby embedded in it.

Misa's shoulders slumped. "That's not fair."

"Do not worry. Sa'teyush is a playful thing. Its only answer is that you will soon meet your lover, or that you have already met."

"It doesn't narrow down much, does it?" Misa raised a brow, tilting her head at the scattered pieces. "Is there anything more?"

Sha'ka smiled. "The Ya'hafi Three align to say your colour of love is red." She drew a line between the ruby gold piece, a small finger-sized bone, and the wooden piece she had flipped.

"Red..." Misa echoed. She looked down at her red skirt. It clung to the white top in a thin band that sewed the two colours together. "What does it mean? That if I wear red, I will meet him?"

"I cannot say. Red only symbolises your love. It could come from the colour of your dress, or the blossom of flowers. Maybe you will meet your lover if you both have red on your person. Fate is never straightforward."

Misa squashed the frustration rising her temper. It was only a simple telling. She shouldn't have to take it so seriously. Straightening her back, Misa pointed at her wooden hawk. "May I take it back?"

Sha'ka nodded. "Of course. If you wish to finish the reading now."

Misa grabbed her figurine. She paused when she felt a sliver of magic release into the air. It was a sensation similar to what she felt when her spell was broken. So Sha'ka had been using magic after all.

The teller scraped her pieces and, after clasping them between her palms in what seemed like a prayer, returned them into a small wooden box. She pushed it aside. "Now, what have you really come to me for?"

Misa blew out a breath. Her heart was beating so loud, she was sure the witch before her could hear it. "I...I want to join the market. To find someone to teach me witchcraft." Misa forced herself not to cringe. It was the last thing she wanted, but if she didn't get her instinctive enchantments in control, she didn't know what other unsuspecting people she would unwittingly draw to herself.

Sha'ka raised a pierced brow. She interlaced her fingers and rested her pointed chin on them. "I thought you wanted to get rid of your magic. Why the change of heart?"

Misa smiled. Her cheeks hurt. "Maybe I don't want my potential lover to die."

Sha'ka laughed. Her chortle was deep and rumbled from her chest. Her eyes sparkled as if she found Misa's statement genuinely hilarious. "I was under the impression that you didn't believe in fortune telling. I very much doubt my vision troubled you so much that you accepted your magic within a few minutes."

Heat flushed Misa's cheeks. She had only wanted to jest, but Sha'ka somehow managed to make her seem foolish. She met the woman's eyes with a steady gaze. "Fine. I'll tell you the truth. My instinctive spell is bewitchment." Her eyes darted away in shame. "I have unintentionally tried to bewitch people, and I have no idea how to stop it. It has helped me in the past, but I'm afraid if I don't learn to prevent it, I will invite more trouble than good."

"It is nothing to be ashamed of." Sha'ka's words were unexpectedly soft with sympathy. "But I do agree it will cause trouble if you don't learn to control it."

"I think if I'm able to contact more witches, I'll be able to learn." Misa stared down at her eagle. "And perhaps, if I learn how to cast spells, I'll find I enjoy it."

Sha'ka nodded. "I understand. As you are a witch, I don't think it will be very difficult for you to be accepted. However, it will take you some time before you can find the right witch to grant you full access." She stood, her frame incredibly tall, and walked to a cabinet only someone of her height could reach. Sha'ka dug through the cabinet. Then, when she found what she was looking for, she returned to her seat.

A slip of paper was clipped between her dark fingers. She placed it on the table and slid it towards Misa.

"Look for Rithian," Sha'ka said. "She is a witch who specialises in enchanting objects; not too different from enchanting people. This is the key to her services in the market."

Misa took the paper and flipped it over. Letters unscrambled against the white backdrop. She gasped as they came together to form coherent words.

"'What marks every hour, holds the rich man's power, gathers pots to scour, delights at nuptial flowers or bellows in danger's glower. See this one cry, up its teardrops rise, find the door in the sky.' What does this even mean? And how did the words form out of nothing?"

Sha'ka's lips were stretched in amusement. A ring on her lower lip winked. "So many questions. I cannot answer the riddle for you. It directs you to one of the many doors into the secret market, and the words in your paper are not the ones I had received. It is for you to figure it out on your own. I can, however, answer your last question. The paper was written in enchanted ink. Only a witch's magic will reveal the words, and only a witch can read them. To anyone else, it will be gibberish."

Misa could not hide her amazement. How ingenious to hide a secret message in plain sight! Should the paper fall into the wrong hands, so long as they were not witches, no one would understand it. And even if witches clutched the paper, they would then have to figure out what the cryptic words meant. Misa could not help but admire them for creating such an elaborate way to avoid detection.

"How will I know if I found it?"

Sha'ka nodded approvingly. "A wise question. The enchanted words trigger a spell. Find the correct location, and the answer will be revealed."

"I...thank you for your help, Sha'ka," Misa said. She stood, pocketing both her eagle and the riddle in her bag. "I must go now, but it was truly a pleasure to meet you." And she found that she meant it. Sha'ka, whether it was because of her quick wit and compassion or because witches really were not as bad as everyone believed, had thoroughly earned Misa's affection.

"And I you, Misa," Sha'ka replied. She inclined her head with a small smile, eyes closing for a few seconds until she raised her head once more. "May our paths cross once again."

Giving Sha'ka a small nod, Misa stood from her seat and pushed her way through the silky curtains that hung from the ceiling. Soon, Sha'ka was drowned by the colours of the drapes, and Misa found a slit of white light piercing through thick cloth. To keep her fortune telling a secret, Sha'ka had started a business selling cloth.

When Misa emerged outside, hot sunlight stabbed into her eyes, and it took a few moments of blinking for her to adjust to the brightness. The people of Harthem lulled about. There were no markets that Misa could see, and only those who chose to travel by walking instead of riding a carriage dotted the street.

Misa took in a breath. It was as if simply being outside cleared her lungs. She couldn't believe she was actually in a different city. With a bright smile plastered on her face, Misa made her way towards the pub she had promised to meet Captain Bentham. She tried not to scowl at the thought of him.

The bar was tucked into a corner, with a large sign hanging above its entrance. The painted letters were faded, but Misa could vaguely make out "Old Oak" and knew she'd come to the right place. Two wooden doors swung from the multiple customers streaming in for a late lunch or early dinner. Misa followed them inside. Her nose scrunched at the smell of beer, sweat, and food. It was not a savoury combination.

A lone woman danced upon a small stage to the bounce of the piano. She held her skirt in one hand and tapped her feet against the wood, all while smiling with glee. It was another sight Misa wished to capture. When would she ever have the chance? She sat on a stool against the counter with a small sigh.

"Trouble with the mister?" The barkeeper asked, placing a stone cup in front of her. He flashed her a charming grin, his green eyes twinkling from beneath golden brows. He wasn't Plathean, Misa surmised, taking in his stocky build and blond locks curling behind his ear. Maybe he came from the seaside country of Teillus, where such fair hair was more common.

Misa smiled and shook her head. "No. I don't have a mister."

"Really?" He whistled. "A woman such as yourself with no man? Perhaps a woman, then?" He wriggled his eyebrows. "One for taboo romance?"

A laugh escaped Misa's lips. "No. No woman, either."

The barkeeper clicked his tongue. "Ah, cursed. I usually guess correctly."

"You like to guess your customers' history?" Misa traced her finger along the smooth wooden surface. "It's a strange occupation."

"Oh, no. Just a hobby." He flashed a grin, and Misa flushed. He was quite handsome, albeit a little boyish. There was a charm to his dimpled smile that Misa was drawn to. She caught a glimpse of her red dress, and Sha'ka's predictions flooded her mind. Could this barkeeper be her lover? The thought heated her cheeks.

"Then it's a strange hobby."

The man laughed. "I've been told. So, what does bring such a beautiful woman to a bar?"

Misa shrugged. "Just for a little break, I suppose."

"A drink?" he offered, gesturing to the cask of beer sitting behind him.

"No, thank you." Misa scanned the rest of the bar. Rowdy men filled most of it, but she also caught sight of several women enjoying the loud conversations and music. There was no sign of Captain Bentham.

"Are you looking for someone?" The barkeeper had noticed her wandering gaze.

"No. Just taking everything in. I've never been to a bar before."

"Oh? And how do you find it?"

As Misa engaged in small talk, she let herself relax a little. She enjoyed the barkeeper's company much more than she should have, and several times, she caught herself admiring his green eyes or sharp jawline. He was truly a beauty to behold.

Misa didn't notice the hour pass. By the time she felt a tap on her shoulder, she saw that the afternoon had turned golden.

"I thought I'd find you here," said a familiar voice.

Misa caught sight of the captain, and her breath hitched in surprise. He was nearly unrecognisable in casual attire. He wore a loose black shirt, neck framed with a leather collar, that didn't demand authoritative respect. The laces were undone, revealing a little more below his collarbone than Five Buttons. Belted beige trousers disappeared into his boots. His hair was slightly tousled as if touched by the wind. He leaned against the counter, almost relaxed, and Misa couldn't help but notice the veins running down his arm to the back of his hand. Out of his uniform, he actually looked approachable!

"I—"

"A friend?" cut in the barkeeper, who's name Misa learned was Kairin. He eyed the captain with a reserved suspicion.

Misa smiled. "My brother. He's come to take me home." She ignored the captain's questioning gaze. They had planned on meeting as old acquaintances, then the captain would have offered to escort her home. For some reason, Misa knew the barkeeper wouldn't let her go so easily if he thought the captain was something else.

"I see." Kairin grinned easily. "I'll see you some other time then, my dear. Have a good evening."

"I will. Let's go then, brother." Misa stood and started towards the doors. She was acutely aware of the captain following right behind her, and she could feel his gaze burn into the back of her head. When they could talk in private, she knew he would have more than a few things to say about her change of plans.