Witch Bewitched (New)

Chapter 59

Misa sighed, sitting back on the couch and rereading the notes she had written on a blank page of her sketchbook. The fire within a nearby lamp danced, smooth and quiet, losing its intensity as the early morning light greeted it from the window.

She had scribbled out words and rewrote her thoughts several times, resulting in a rather...tangled mess of black strings rather than any coherent brainstorming. How did Royle do it? How did he put all the pieces together to use to his own advantage without so much as lifting a pen?

"Misa? Is that you?"

Torren peeked from behind a corner, hair disheveled from sleep. He rubbed his eyes and squinted against the brightening light. "You're up early. What are you up to?"

"Leira is here." Misa crumpled the paper and threw it on the ground.

"What?" Torren was wide awake now. He pulled a chair and settled down in front of the woollen couch.

"Or, at least I think she is." Misa threaded her fingers through her hair. "I just need to figure out what's going on. But I know the witch behind the accident is here, so maybe Leira is too."

Torren crossed his legs. "Why don't you explain it to me? Maybe it'll clear your thoughts."

Misa nodded, gathering everything she had learned, what little she could squeeze into her memory through the haze of shock and blinding fury.

"Okay, okay." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and straining her mind. "Let's see. Ten days ago, there was an accident that killed two officers. I have confirmation that it was a witch's doing, and I'm fairly certain she's the one who took Leira. Since she's here, in Harthem, I think it's safe to assume Leira is somewhere in the city as well." She swallowed, completely blocking the possibility that her friend could have been killed and dumped between Giligha and Harthem.

"Last night, the witch—Brin—admitted that she caused the accident. The coven didn't judge her because they wanted to confirm the story with her sister, who is apparently in Warlog. Brin accused Nisha of planting the idea to..."

A fog cleared from Misa's mind, throwing a cold shower of realization that shocked through her core.

"Misa?" Torren prodded at her silence.

"Oh no," Misa breathed. Her wide eyes found Torren's. "It's because of me."

"What?"

"They thought Leira was me." Air seeped out of Misa's lungs, refusing to give her the calm she needed. Her throat constricted, her heart hurt with the need to just breathe. Then, the tears fell. Guilt pounded on her like a blacksmith's hammer to an anvil. She hiccupped, choking for air.

"Misa! Calm down!" Torren leaned forward, grabbing Misa's shoulders, shaking her to snap her out of it.

"She killed two officers and took Leira away because of me. She thought she was saving a witch, Torren. She thought I was caught by the purgehouse!"

"You don't know that."

"There are no other witches in Giligha." Misa clamped a handful of hair and pulled. "Nisha and Rithian both knew I came from there. For some reason, Brin thought the purgehouse captured a witch. She set it up because she wanted to save Leira."

Misa jumped to her feet, the hope of seeing Leira again shriveling by each epiphany. "But Leira isn't a witch!" She grabbed Torren's arms, digging her fingers into them. "Torren, what if they killed her? What if they realised they captured an ordinary human and killed her?"

"Misa, you're panicking." Torren offered her a small smile. "It's okay. We'll figure it out. Just breathe."

She took his advice, calming the fire that had ignited in her soul. The impulse. She had to fight it, just until she could figure out how she could approach the situation without ruining any chance she had to save Leira. She clung onto the possibility that Leira was in Harthem. It was the only way she could plan her next move.

Leira was still alive. She had to be.

"That's it." Torren grabbed Misa's shoulders when her grip on his arm loosened with her slowing heart.

Misa relaxed her shoulders, and a wave of exhaustion threatened to tip her over. She hadn't slept at all, and she now understood why Royle had so many sleepless nights. Why he would force himself to stay awake, planning, calculating, mapping.

"How does he do it?" Misa wondered out loud, falling back on the couch. Torren raised a brow. "Royle. How does he twist every situation to benefit himself? I can't even put together what I've gathered."

Torren shrugged. "We all have different ways of thinking. I guess his mind simply works better that way."

"What would he do?" Misa stared at the next blank page of her sketchbook. She plucked the pen from the ink bottle and blotted it on the paper. "How does he even begin?"

"Let's do it like this." Torren pointed at the tip of the pen, where a stain began to sink in and spread ever so slightly. "Map everything we know. The witch who took Leira." He tapped his finger, and Misa wrote down Brin's name. Then, he pointed at a blank space next to the word. "Connects to the accident in Giligha."

Misa jotted 'accident' and let Torren continue. "She's in Harthem, so let's say it's safe to assume Leira is also in Harthem."

'Brin' connected to 'accident.' 'Brin' with an arrow pointing at 'Harthem.' 'Leira' with a line drawn to 'Brin' and an arrow pointing at 'Harthem' a question mark circled next to it because it wasn't certain.

"What's next?" Torren inquired.

Misa followed Torren's model. She jotted down 'Kaila', 'Nisha', and 'Warlog.'

"There was a fight at the meet yesterday, and I'm not sure who is telling the truth." Misa drew a line from 'Kaila' to 'accident' and another from 'Brin' to 'Nisha'. "Brin said Kaila was with her in Giligha, and she claimed Nisha was the one who told her about the witch captured by the purgehouse." Another line, this time from 'Kaila' to 'Warlog.' "But Nisha said Kaila was in Warlog the whole time. Brin's judgement won't come until Kaila's return, but I'm not sure when that'll be."

"Those witches meet every Daisees night. Which means, if Kaila returns any time before your next meet, Brin will have only a week before judgement."

Misa took note of his point. "So, I'm going to have to assume she'll be judged at the next meet. First, I need to figure out where I can find her." Sha'ka flashed in her memory. "And I think I know where to start."

* * * *

"Misa!" Torren hissed. "Are you sure about this?"

Misa grinned. "Trust me, Torren. I'm a witch, remember?"

"Yes, but I'm supposed to be the First Lieu—"

"Shut up!" Misa shot him a glare, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. "Why can't you be more like Royle? At least he knew how to stay in character."

Torren shook his head in disbelief. "Am I hearing things? You would prefer to have Royle over me? Your best friend? Your charming knight in shining armour?"

Misa slapped his chest. "Oh, quit your complaining. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous."

"Jealous?" Torren exclaimed, startling an innocent couple walking by. He bristled, shaking his head and not even acknowledging the disapproving glare he received from the woman. "Me? You must be joking! Do you know who I am?"

With a chuckle, Misa trod on ahead. "It's not my fault you insisted on following me. It's Dailib. You could have stayed home and slept in, but no. You just had to 'escort' me to buy some silk."

As if on cue, Misa found the humble shop nestled at the corner of the street. She paused at the entrance, taking in the subtle scent of lime and admiring the curtains of colour dancing with the breeze.

"Stay out here, okay?" Misa glanced over her shoulder. "And don't touch anything."

Torren put a hand to his heart, as if he'd been stung. "I would never!"

Misa turned before he caught her smile. What would she ever do without Torren? She sobered. They were out on a mission, not on a play trip. She had to remember to tone down on the teasing.

"Hello?" Misa called out. "Is anyone here?"

A shadow fell over a thin curtain of white. A dark hand bent it to allow Sha'ka's bare head to peek from behind. "Misa Carpenter? Is that you?"

Misa beamed. "Yes, it is! It's nice to see you again, Sha'ka."

The witch smiled, but there was a glint of sorrow in her eyes. She pulled back the drapes, giving Misa a full view of her simple brown dress. Beads hung from the hem, and a strap of dark leather belted it at the waist. Misa had never seen anything like it before.

"I assume you want a private chat?" Sha'ka said. When Misa nodded, the witch gestured towards the back of the shop and led Misa to the dim, otherworldly hidden room. Just like the first time, it entranced Misa, awed her with ancient artifacts made of bone and furs and gold, and she let herself gaze at them in wonder. Myriads of faces stared back at her, of warriors, monsters, and animals. Misa couldn't shake off the feeling that in this room, nothing was a secret.

She took a seat in front of the small round table, tucking her legs beneath the white cloth that covered it. She waited for Sha'ka to sit across from her before she stated her business.

"Sha'ka, if you don't mind me asking..." Misa leaned forward on her elbows, clasping her hands together on the table. "Where can I find Brin?"

Sha'ka visibly stiffened. Misa couldn't decipher what the woman was thinking behind that hardened dark gaze. "It's not a good time to be contacting Brin, Misa. She's not in a good place."

Misa slipped on a sympathetic smile. "I know. But...Giligha is my city. The news of that accident has flipped it upside down. I just need to talk to Brin. To ask her why she did it."

"She has already explained why. Please, don't bring her more pain. She didn't mean for anyone to die. It was an accident."

Misa watched the cupboard behind Sha'ka, unable to face the witch who cared so much about Brin. Because Brin was still responsible, and Brin had taken away Misa's friend.

"I want to hear it from her, Sha'ka." Misa lowered her gaze, ignoring the pang of uncertainty when she met the witch's eyes. "Please. Let me talk to Brin. I promise I won't push her. I just...I need to know."

Sha'ka drew in a breath. Closing her eyes, she let it out with a murmur. "Very well." She nodded. "Come back tomorrow, and I will have Brin here."

Misa bowed her head slightly. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me. I'll come late in the afternoon."

"I understand."

And without another word, they parted. Misa found Torren running his fingers through a silky curtain with whorls of flowers.

"I thought I told you not to touch anything," Misa said. Torren jumped, whirling around with his hand up in a salute. Misa couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled out of her chest.

"Misa!" Torren scolded.

Misa shook her head, still grinning as she waved an arm to gesture for him to follow.

"So?"

"I'm meeting her tomorrow."

Torren said no more.