Witch Bewitched (COMPLETE)

Chapter 23

Misa looked up from her sketchbook, studying the trickle of water escaping the fountain. She lifted a blackened hand to measure the depth, to gauge the gentle curve of the bottom of the chalice, where the circular base had turned into a thin oval from perspective.

A shadow fell over her, and Misa looked up. She scowled when she saw the captain. Deliberately ignoring him, she buried her attention back into the silver curves of water that fell into the base of the fountain.

The captain took a seat beside her, his new shirt crumpled and hair blowing from the wind. He had dark smudges under his eyes, and his face was not as clean-shaven as Misa remembered.

"If you're here to tell me to look for the door instead of useless sketching, then I don't want to hear it." Misa used her finger to rub the charcoal and shade in the darkest part of the fountain.

Another week had whizzed by, and neither were close to finding the answer to the riddle. Misa had even considered coaxing it out of Bernt again as a cadet, but she realised it would be too suspicious if she asked the same question as the witch that had fled capture that night.

Misa didn't know what had become of Bernt. She'd heard from the purgehouse that they'd sent him to a prison, but there were rumours that suggested otherwise.

"I suppose a relaxing activity will help clear your mind," the captain said. "I have no intention of taking this luxury from you."

Misa put down her sketchbook to scrutinise the captain. Since the night she had almost gotten caught, he hadn't said a word about it. Why wasn't he scolding her like he usually would?

He caught her eye and gave her an easy smile. There was definitely something going on. "How long have you been sketching?"

Misa blinked at the question. It wasn't one she was expecting. "Since noon."

He craned his neck, observing the sky with a hand shadowing his eyes. "You've been out here for four hours?"

Misa stiffened. "I wasn't wasting time, if that's what you're asking. Art helps me think, and I thought I'd be able to figure something out if I took a step back to do what I love."

He sighed. "I'm not going to bring up that night when Lieutenant Farow almost caught you."

"Why?"

"Because, I've realised you get into more trouble every time I try to teach you a lesson. Next time, I think you'll dig a hole you won't be able to crawl out of, and I'm not going to let it happen if I can prevent it. Besides, I'm sure a scare like that was a lesson in itself."

Misa rolled her eyes. "How noble of you. The amount of trust you have in me is astounding."

"You haven't done anything thus far to earn my trust." The captain sat back and crossed his legs. "How many times have you gotten into trouble?"

"With you having a problem with everything I do, I get into more trouble than I need to."

The captain didn't speak. Misa fiddled with the charcoal in her hand, being careful not to stain her new dress, cheap as it was. When she looked up, she saw the captain watching her. She didn't know why her cheeks heated up. "What?"

"Miss Carpenter," he said. "Have you found anything while asking around?"

Misa narrowed her eyes. "I thought you were against the idea."

"Yes, but if you gleaned some useful information, it would be helpful to share."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't say I got anything. As much as I hate to admit it, I think we both chose a path leading us to dead ends."

"Perhaps." The captain stared at the fountain, rubbing his chin.

Misa flipped her sketchbook over to a new page. "I was talking to Bernt the riddler when I got caught. He was about to tell me where the door was but the officers got to him first."

"Pity. They were tailing him for weeks trying to find evidence of his dealings in the witch market. It seems you sought him at the wrong time."

"You think?" Misa drew a line across the page. "All he told me was that it was upside down. I have no idea what he meant."

There was a pause, filled only with the charcoal scraping against the sketchbook. Misa decided to add, "What about you? Found anything useful in your hunt for this crying bell?"

Captain Bentham let out a breath. "No, unfortunately. I took a look at a few funeral parlours, but there wasn't anything I could find."

"Funeral parlour?"

He shrugged. "I assumed the crying and teardrops were referring to mourning bells."

"And the door in the sky?"

"It's a bit of a stretch, but perhaps it's the gates to the heavens. Though, I suppose it doesn't make sense. I don't see how it's possible for the entrance to the witch market to be accessed through the afterlife."

Misa paused. "You know, Captain, that wasn't a bad idea." Upside down, Bernt's voice rang in her mind, almost mocking. She frowned. "I guess it's not the right one, though."

"No," he agreed. A thoughtful silence fell over them. Nothing but the usual bustle of city life and the trickle of the fountain water filled it.

Misa could feel his gaze on her hand as she worked on her new sketch. Her lines wobbled with hesitation. She wasn't used to people watching her work.

"You draw quite beautifully."

A dark, unintentional line streaked through her structure. Misa held in a groan. "Thank you." She lifted the charcoal from the page, glaring at the mistake. It was all his fault. Why was he suddenly being so friendly?

"Would it be all right if I took a look?" His question was hesitant, as if he was invading her privacy.

Misa was taken aback. She only silently nodded and handed him her sketchbook. He began from the first page, where Misa had roughly sketched the bench, a flower, and Min-Min to practice. The next page was a full picture of the bell tower, shaded in hues of black and greys. Her final piece was the finished drawing of the fountain. It was the most detailed of the three, and a hint of pride stirred in Misa when she glimpsed it once more. Yes, she had captured the water effects quite well. She remembered struggling with reflections and ripples, having to gaze at a bowl of water under the sun for ages trying to figure it out.

"I learned to draw when I was fourteen," Misa said softly. She wasn't quite sure why she was telling him this, but his interest encouraged her. "It was the only way I could see the mountains and feel the clouds. My mother bought me a handbook on painting written by Gerputin Tirs-hian, and I've read it countless times. Do you know him? He's better known as Farler the Painter."

The captain shook his head, and Misa let out an exaggerated gasp.

"How could you not?" She shook her head in mock disappointment. "Farler the Painter has been acknowledged as the greatest artist in Plathea. His style is revolutionary and his colourwork unmatched. Please, you must at least know his most famous piece, The Hidden Cottage."

"I haven't paid much attention to art, I'm afraid."

"He blended ink, paint, and dye so seamlessly that you would never be able to tell unless you were familiar with the mediums. Even then, it doesn't look out of place at all. Some say a witch took such a liking to it that she transported herself to live inside. There are rumours of a womanly figure occasionally appearing at the window or of flowers blooming in areas that hadn't been there before. It's probably just speculation, but I think it shows you how talented he is that people discover something new the more they study his work. He always appreciated the little details of the world. I wish I could have met him." She fell into a respectful silence. The painter had died from an unknown disease several years ago, leaving behind an unfinished piece. No one dared to complete it for him.

"I see."

Misa shrugged. "I have a long way to go if I even want to hold a candle to him."

"You do have talent," Captain Bentham said, handing her book back to her. "Maybe even good enough that it could earn you a fortune."

"It's more than that to me," Misa confessed. "Without it, I don't think I would have been as obedient as I was. Not that I was a particularly innocent child."

"It seems you haven't changed at all. Still sneaking past the rules to do what you want."

Misa huffed. "It's not like I was really breaking any of your ridiculous rules. And besides, I thought it would be best if we split up to look for the answer. There's no rule that says we have to stay together."

"And winding up in more trouble than it's worth?" The captain shook his head. "I'm beginning to realise that there is nothing I can do to keep you under control."

"I'm not one of your officers who always answers back to you, that's for sure. The only reason I'm even here is because..." Misa trailed off. She had only agreed because it would grant her the freedom she desired. She realised that she had put the lives of thousands of people behind it. And even as she thought of this, she found it difficult to prioritise them over herself. Had she always been this selfish?

"Well, nevermind," Misa said. She sat back, saw the clouds glide lazily across the sky. She studied the street before her, the cobbled road, the buildings, the fountain, the sky reflected against the water pooling below it.

"It's getting late. Shall we start heading back?"

Misa closed her sketchbook. She shoved it and her charcoal pencil, which was wrapped in a cloth, into her satchel. "We probably should."

The captain stood and offered a hand. Misa stared at it, dumbfounded, wondering what he intended to do. She looked down at her fingers, tainted an ashy gray at the tips. Would he mind if she held his hand with such dirty fingers? He began to lower it, but Misa took it with an averted gaze. For some reason, her face was blasted with warmth, as if a hearth had suddenly been set ablaze.

"It's a hot afternoon," Misa said, still avoiding him.

"Is it?"

Misa nodded. He didn't let go of her hand as she thought he would, and they walked down the street with their fingers lightly clasped together. His touch was warm, strong, callused.

Get ahold of yourself! She raised her chin. It's just handholding. You've done it before. And there's nothing strange about a brother holding his sister's hand.

Although, that would be the case had the captain been dragging her behind him, like a brother impatient to get away from the shops his sister gushed at. Instead, he walked at her pace, like a—

Clearing her throat, Misa pulled her hand from his grasp and used it to brush her hair back. "Do you think we'll figure out the riddle? We don't have much time left."

The captain didn't react to her pulling away, and Misa wondered why she felt a vague disappointment. "It's part of the plan. Of course, we have to."

Misa scoffed. "You and your stupid plans. When will you accept that going with the flow is the better way to do things?"

"At least, when you have a plan, you know what needs to be done. It's a much better way to manage your time without flitting about like a mindless butterfly."

"So you say." Misa smiled. "You know, you're not so bad when you're not being such a tyrant."

An odd sort of cough gurgled from the captain's throat. "A tyrant?"

Misa chuckled. "You should hear yourself whenever you lecture me about my mistakes." She deepened her voice, mimicking his tone. "'Are you mad? Do you know what you could have cost us? If you don't get in line, I'm sending you back to your parents!' You have no idea how insufferable you can be."

"Perhaps if you didn't do anything that asked for a lecture, I wouldn't be so inclined." He had gone rigid, clearly displeased by the way Misa teased him.

She grinned, nudging him with her elbow. "You need to loosen up a bit. You're always so broody and dark. Always talking about rules and plans. You need to have a bit of fun once in a while."

"Fun is for those who have nothing better to do."

"Oh, don't be such a grouch. Tell you what. Once we find this stupid door, let's go out and loosen up together. I'll show you how to have fun, and who knows? Maybe you won't be such a bore when you're at a party! Torren says you're a good drinker. I want to see how true his claim is."

"Once we find the door," the captain repeated, as if affirming that it would not be likely that they did.

Misa's shoulders drooped.

"Yeah. I'm sure we'll find it." But even she could hear the doubt in her voice.