Witch Bewitched (COMPLETE)

Chapter 18

When Misa stepped into the musty storage shed, she prepared herself for the inevitable complaints that would shoot out of the captain.

Are you trying to sabotage the mission? What were you thinking? It's not up to you to change the plan however you see fit. Perhaps, he would even include a This is why you can't be out on your own!

"Is there a reason you changed our story?" the captain asked. If he was angry, he hid it well.

Misa shrugged off her cloak and wrapped it into a bundle. She was half-right about the interrogation. Though, he wasn't as condescending as usual. Maybe the uniform really did make him a harsher man. "I guess I just thought it would be the fastest way to get out of there without more chatter."

The captain studied her closely. Misa avoided his eyes, taking a sudden interest in the flecks of dust dancing in a stream of sunlight. "Do you fancy him?"

A blush dusted her cheeks. She shook her head. "No. I don't think I want to. He's too..." Stable.

Misa couldn't help the tightness in her chest when she thought of settling down with a man. She didn't want to stay put in one place, caged like a bird with clipped wings. No. She wanted to soar the skies to see how small she was compared to the world beneath her.

"I won't pry if you'd rather not say," Captain Bentham said. He let a thoughtful smile tug at his lips. "But, you did make a wise decision. Being your brother is much more believable than old acquaintances."

Misa almost gasped. Had the captain just complimented her? She couldn't believe her ears. He must have said "unwise".

The captain, as if sensing her awe, raised a brow. "Is it so unbelievable that I would acknowledge what you did right?"

Misa's eyes widened. She shoved her hand into her bag and brought out the talisman Torren had bought for her at the witch festival. She held it up to him. "Who are you and what have you done with the captain?"

And what was this? The captain laughed. He laughed! A spirit must have taken over his body. How else could his strange behaviour be explained? The real captain would have reprimanded Misa's choice. He would have attacked her with his slick, rational argument as to why she was a child not to be trusted with important issues.

Misa studied the man before her. Loose tufts of hair curled over his forehead; his lips were still quirked up in an amused smile, eyes shining with a curious warmth that hadn't been there before. What had become of the man with the cold dark eyes that bore into Misa's soul? The more she stared at him, the more he didn't look like the captain.

"Miss Carpenter?" His call brought her out of her troubled thoughts. "Miss Carpenter."

Misa shook her head. "What?"

"I said, if you're finished gawking, you should start preparing to head back to Vortham's residence."

Ah. There was the bossy captain that had gone missing. Misa's lips thinned. "Then do you mind giving me some privacy?"

His eyes flickered to her dress, and Misa thought she saw his cheeks turn pink. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Of course. Hurry it up."

Turning on his heel, he exited the shed. Misa sighed and untied the bag from her hip, tossing it on a dusty table. She had thought she'd seen someone she could come to like even a little, but it must have been nothing more than a mask. He had to be playing tricks on her, letting her see a playful, kind side of him so she would be more willing to bend to his rules.

As Misa stripped off her dress, her stomach coiled in despair. She didn't want to wear the uniform. She was tired of acting and being afraid of getting caught. The uniform lay in a sack she had placed in the corner of the shed. She dumped the contents of the bag on the same table she had placed her pouch. Her uniform mingled with the captain's, and when Misa started to untangle them, she caught sight of the red marking sewed onto the captain's uniform.

Your colour of love is red.

Misa froze. She stared down at the jacket in her hands, tracing the red shoulder with a thumb. It couldn't be. No, there were plenty of people who wore red every day. Misa glanced behind her. The shadow of the captain cast under the rickety shed door, and she became aware of the cool air caressing her bare skin.

Misa untied the band around her chest and reworked it to hide as much of her figure as she could. The captain couldn't be her potential lover. Misa shook her head. The readings had given her more trouble than she thought. It had planted a seed into her mind, and now she was going to think anyone who wore red would be her lover. It was plain ridiculous.

The uniform burned into Misa's vision. When the captain wore his Five Buttons, he became insufferable. So how could he be anything but a disciplined man who was too uptight about everything? In fact, Misa would be more willing to accept the captain as her lover in his black shirt than in this rigid jacket.

She laughed. What was she even thinking? A lover was the last thing on her mind, especially if he was the insufferable Captain Royle Bentham. She didn't need romance, she needed freedom. Raising her chin in defiance, Misa threw the captain's jacket to the side and picked up her own. She had to get the ridiculous notion out of her head. Slipping her arms into the uniform, she began buttoning up.

A clatter of planks sent Misa jumping around with a yell. She grabbed the first piece of cloth she could reach and covered her exposed legs. The late afternoon sun streamed through the open doorway.

Captain Bentham let out a string of colourful expletives as dust swirled around him. A long board pinned his shoulder to the rest of the door beneath him. The rest of the door whined on one hinge, splintered and cracked like fangs. Hissing in pain, the captain threw the wood off him and rubbed his head.

"Are you all right?" Misa asked.

The captain swore. "Do I look all right? Fücking door was too flimsy to hold my weight." He pushed himself up, letting out another swear when his hand sank into a broken edge. "Damn it! I've enough splinters to form a new door!"

The captain stood, dusting his clothes off. His black shirt had turned a dull grey, his trousers streaked with dirt. Even his hair had turned a shade lighter from all the dust coating it. His dark eyes were burning in fury, peeking from behind a curtain of loosened brown strands.

And Misa couldn't take it. She bit her lip. Laughter bubbled inside her chest, waiting to be released like lava building up in a volcano. She tried—how she tried!—so hard to keep her face straight, but when the captain looked at her with cheeks coated in grey powder, she exploded. She laughed so hard her stomach hurt. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"If you're finished mocking me," the captain started with fury coating his voice, "I suggest you put on your trousers."

Misa choked. Her throat hurt as she coughed. Her trousers! She had forgotten that she was half naked!

Her amusement shattered, and Misa covered herself with the cloth she was holding. "Stop looking!" she screamed.

It was the captain's turn to poke at Misa's humiliation. "What have you been doing this whole time? You haven't even buttoned your uniform all the way."

"Oh, shut up!" Misa threw the jacket she was holding at the captain and found satisfaction when it draped around his face. "Don't you dare peek!"

She hurried to pull her pants up and shove her feet into her boots. "At least I didn't make a fool of myself," she said, stalking past as she finished buttoning her uniform.

Captain Bentham pulled his jacket from his face and glared at her. "We don't speak of this. To anyone. Do you understand?"

"Whatever." Misa braided her hair, pinned it up, and secured it with her hairnet. "I'll be waiting outside, Captain." She snatched her cap from a hook and headed out the shed.

"I'm serious, Miss Carpenter," came the captain's muffled retort from inside. "Haven't you ever heard? What happens in Harthem stays in Harthem."

Misa rolled her eyes. "You're just saying that because you're embarrassed. And, besides, that doesn't make any sense. Isn't the whole purpose of the briefing to report back to the royal council everything the purgehouses have recorded? Does that exclude the events in Harthem?"

Captain Bentham stepped out of the shed adjusting his cap. He tossed her the pouch she'd left on the table, and Misa barely managed to catch it. "That's an exception. The 'happens' refers to other, more secretive activities, including this one." He gestured to the broken door behind him.

Misa chuckled. "You have a very interesting definition of secret activities. I don't see how falling through a door is a private matter."

She hung her bag on a belt loop. The weight was familiar, but she went on ahead to make sure everything was inside anyway.

"What did you do to our disguises?" Misa asked, pushing aside a few loncs.

The captain was picking at his injured hand, waiting for Misa to finish checking off her list of items to take back to their temporary home. He replied in his usual cool tone, "I left them in the same corner we kept our uniforms. We'll have to return tomorrow to continue our search. Which begs the question: have you gotten any information about how to get into the market?"

"Oh, yeah!" Misa felt for the riddle, and she pulled it out between her fingers. She conveyed everything Sha'ka had told her pertaining only to the market. There was no sense in filling him with predictions of her love life, and she didn't want him to get the wrong impression just because the captain's colour in the purgehouse was red.

The captain began the trek to the commander's home when Misa finished. He rubbed his chin in thought. "Read it to me again."

Misa watched the words form, still fascinated by the magic. "'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.' I haven't the slightest clue what it means."

"Witches always liked their wordplay," Captain Bentham said. "We'll need to break it down, but the first half of the riddle is easy enough to solve."

"You've already solved it? After listening to it twice?" Misa scowled. How could he have solved it so quickly? She read the riddle again but couldn't figure it out.

"I suppose."

Misa waited expectantly, but he didn't continue. "And?"

"And what?"

"And what is the answer?"

The captain paused, sidestepping an older man walking with a cane. Misa thought he wouldn't answer, and she was beginning to suspect he was only bluffing when he finally replied.

"A bell. Shall I explain?"

Misa read the riddle once more, for some reason agitated that his answer made sense. "I see how a bell is the answer for four of the clues. The striking of the clock, the dinner bell, wedding bells, and I'm assuming alarm bells for the last. What's the rich man's power?"

"Doesn't your father call for his servants with a bell?"

Misa recalled the very bell in Maran's study. She scowled. It made sense, though her family wasn't exactly rich by noble standards. "Oh."

"It doesn't quite mean that a bell is the right answer. The bell itself could be a riddle. But, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take it literally at first. There's an old bell tower in Central Square. We'll start our search there tomorrow."

"Great." Misa sighed. It had only been the first day in their search for the witch market, but Misa already had enough. She was exhausted from the day's work, and she dreaded what awaited in the coming weeks. Misa caught sight of the large stone building she was staying in. She slipped on her cadet mask, keeping her spine as straight as a rod. At the rate she was going, she wouldn't be surprised if she left Harthem an old woman.