Witch Bewitched (New)

Chapter 27

Misa managed to convince the captain that she was going to bed early. The meet was as boring as it always was, and since they had found the entrance to the witch market, the captain hadn't protested when Misa said she wanted to stay in her room to relax after the day's work was done.

It would be tricky to sneak past the servants—and the captain himself—but Misa had found that her old habit of leaving her home unnoticed came in handy. She turned off her lamp and took it with her when she opened the window to creep out. There were guards at the gate and patrolling the premises tonight—an obstacle Misa couldn't get by without being noticed. So, she simply walked to the gate like she belonged there, gave the guards a friendly nod, and slipped outside. She was sure they wouldn't be aware that she was supposed to be in bed, and they hadn't been told that Misa couldn't leave.

Misa's skin crawled at the thought of meeting Rithian again. She never wanted to meet the witch, but she had no choice. So many things depended on her learning from the witch. The captain had asked nothing of her encounter with Rithian, but his burning curiosity was no secret. Misa had avoided him as much as she could after going to him for comfort the night before, and she told him nothing of her nightly excursion. Because he would insist on following her, especially with the state she'd returned from meeting Rithian. And if the witch found him...

Misa looked down at the bracelet that bound her to the witch. It gleamed under the firelight, taunting her with its winks as if it knew what she was thinking. She had tried to take it once she'd returned to her chambers the night before, but nothing she did could budge it even a smidge. It had remained on her wrist, like it was an extension of her very skin, burning every time she attempted to remove it.

Misa switched her gaze to the dirt path and swiftly moved towards the warehouse to change into a dress. She was playing a dangerous game, but it was a game she started the moment she left her parents.

When she was ready, Misa steeled herself and went to the fountain. The bell tower loomed behind it, glaring down at Misa as if it too was repulsed by her magic. Laughter and music sounded from the distance, filtering through the buildings that hosted parties and drinks.

And before her, Rithian sat on the base of the fountain, humming to herself a melody that chased away the rowdy music from bars. Her ethereal beauty held no malice, but Misa would not be fooled twice. She held her breath and approached the witch, lamp in hand.

The humming stopped. Rithian gave Misa a gentle smile. The monster Misa had seen was nowhere in Rithian's face, like it had all just been a nightmare.

"Are you ready?" the witch sang. A lilt that could not have warned anyone else of what she truly was.

Misa only nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She couldn't let her guard down, not when she knew what truly lay beneath that tender mask.

"Then come." Rithian smiled, and for a second, that sadistic woman who had tormented Misa slipped through her veil. She gestured for Misa to follow and led her through the streets of Harthem. Past the singing bars, past the familiar street, taking Misa to a place she'd never been to before.

The alley they slipped through was narrow, winding through buildings and walls. Rithian stopped at a dead end. She swept her gaze behind her, looking past Misa for anyone who may stumble upon them. Then, when the coast was clear, she chanted a spell in the same language Misa had spoken before.

Rithian's palm began to glow, and when she placed it on the wall, light traced her hand before streaking away to create a rectangle. The light faded with Rithian's chants, and before them, a door stood. Misa swallowed her awe, refusing to let it amaze her. The witch pushed the door open, and Misa followed.

The door led them through a passageway, damp but not dusty, indicating its frequent use. Rithian clicked her tongue.

"Turn off that poor excuse of a light."

Misa did as told, holding her tongue. Almost immediately after they were engulfed in darkness, white-hot brightness returned from the orb hovering above Rithian's fingertips. There was a tightness in Misa's throat when she saw just how narrow the tunnel was, and she forced the thought of it collapsing from her mind.

"I can smell your fear," Rithian said, smugness dripping from her voice.

Misa said nothing. They walked in silence until they reached an opening. Rithian's light floated to the ceiling, sending shadows scuttling behind loose stones and broken furniture.

"Magic," Rithian said, "is a marvelous thing. The royal council is a bunch of idiots who think it's evil."

The witch glided to the center of the room, to the center of a large circle that had been drawn. She waited until Misa joined her.

"Let's see your spell," she said.

The spell. Misa had no idea how it started. "How?"

Rithian snarled. "You don't even know how to trigger it?"

Misa scowled. She thought of her greatest desires. The lands that she could explore and paint and record. The large expanse of the sea, the blue crystal she had dreamed to cross. The ache in her heart began. Her freedom. Her farfetched freedom that lay just beyond her fingertips, ripped away by the magic coursing through her veins and the bracelet shackling her wrist.

The familiar tingle began. Misa kept her focus on her wants, the pain of being unable to have them. She craved her paints, the art that she turned to when she felt suffocated, smothered by the chains shackled by her parents and now her magic.

And then, the captain's face flashed in her vision, a warm smile on his lips, and the tenderness in his gaze that made her feel...safe. Misa stumbled back, her magic dispersing. Why? Why did he appear?

She blinked and looked at Rithian. Had the witch somehow planted the image in her mind? But that would be impossible. The captain had gone through such extensive lengths to keep Misa's affiliation to the purgehouse a secret.

"You've stopped," Rithian said. She smiled. "You've stopped because your target isn't here."

"Target?" Misa breathed.

"Tell me, what triggered your spell?"

Misa put her hand to her heart, somehow hoping it would suppress her pounding pulse. "I want freedom," she said, softly. "I want to see the world. That's what started it. My desire to see the world beyond Plathea."

"Which means the target of your spell is the one who has the ability to make it possible. He—or she—is the one binding you from your wants, the thing standing between you and your freedom. That is the spell of bewitchment. To bewitch the one who can give you what you want."

Cold drenched over her like a bucket of water. The captain was keeping Misa from her freedom. And for what? To save Plathea. It was a noble cause. Misa couldn't blame him for it, yet the fact that he could give her the freedom she wanted...She shook her head. Focus.

"I don't..." Misa paused to breathe, to stop the suffocation slowly pressing down on her chest. "I don't understand. Then, how am I supposed to control it? Every time I see something I want, I'll end up bewitching someone. I can't do that. It's not me."

Rithian seemed larger than before, towering over Misa, looking down on her as if she was nothing but a bug. "You've a lot to learn. Soon enough, you'll be able to bewitch a set target, whether they have what you desire or not. You'll be able to bewitch anyone at will, and they will be helpless under your spell."

"That's madness!" Misa took a step back. Her foot caught on loose rubble. "Then I'll bewitch anyone I come in contact with."

"That is why you'll learn control." Rithian grinned. "But first, you will train to bewitch with a thought."

Misa's blood froze. "A thought?"

"It's simple, really." Rithian held up her hand. Misa sensed a slight buzz around her, escaping Rithian's palm. She whirled around in time to see a chair spring to life. The wood was impossibly flexible, bending for more fluid movement. The chair's legs moved like a dog's until it came up to Misa, pushing against the back of her knees so she fell on top of it.

"What are you—" Misa bounced. Her tailbone hurt. "Stop it!"

Rithian only grinned, and with a flick of a finger, commanded the chair to approach her, bringing Misa closer to her than she would have liked. The witch grabbed the back of the chair, her face filling Misa's vision. A mole under her eye. A dark fire in her pupils.

"You see, my dear, your instinctual spell can be tamed. A dog's instincts can be suppressed by extensive training. Command it to leave the bone, and despite its senses screaming at it to grab the opportunity, it will obey its master's voice."

"I'm not a dog," was all Misa could manage. This close to the witch...Misa could feel power radiating off her, even more than before. She had to have uncloaked her magic, letting Misa feel the oppression, forcing her into submission.

"A touch."

Misa coughed. "What?"

"A touch to trigger your spell. That will be all you need. You must keep your magic dormant and awaken it with a touch of intention. You have a pool of magic. Can you not feel it?"

Yes. Now that Rithian had mentioned it, Misa could feel it, whirling within her, restless like a lion pacing in a cage. She could always feel it, though it was only when the spell triggered with a tingle that she ever paid attention to it.

"You must fight against instinct and allow it only to respond to your touch. It'll come to you in time."

Rithian flashed her teeth into a wicked grin. A wave sent the chair hobbling backwards, Misa in tow. She desperately grabbed on the seat, hoping to stop the horrible bounce that bruised her bottom. And then, the chair went still. Rigid. Lifeless. Wood splintered beneath her, and Misa barely had time to jump off before the furniture crashed under her weight.

"Let's try it again." Rithian spread her arms. "Bewitch me."

Misa couldn't stop her strangled cry of surprise. "Bewitch you?"

"Don't make me repeat everything, girl. Your first milestone will be reached once you're able to bewitch anyone, regardless of gender, regardless of their connection to your desires, and regardless of whether you are repulsed by them or not. Now, bewitch me."

Misa pulled up her thoughts of the mountains of Harthem. The ocean, the mysterious lands beyond physical barriers. Her tingle began again, but once more, the captain filled her mind before her spell was cut short.

Rithian snapped her fingers. The broken chair limped to Misa, driving its back into her spine. Misa yelled, falling to the ground with her hands outstretched. A sharp pain pierced her wrist.

"I told you to bewitch me, not someone else."

So Misa tried again. This time, she directed her thoughts to the hatred she harboured towards the witch. She wanted to get out of the lesson, to go as far from the wretch as possible. She prayed to have her bracelet removed. The tingle began, but something coiled in Misa's stomach, clenching so tightly that it hurt.

"Bewitch me." Rithian commanded.

Misa focused on her magic. She wanted to get rid of it, she wanted to leave this passageway and slip into her comfy bed. Her wants became a dream, and Misa grabbed onto it, desperately clutching it to her chest, willing for it to come true.

Her magic spread like fire, burning through her veins, sending a jolt of painful static throughout her entire body. Her target. Rithian. How ironic it was that her wish to be rid of her magic was the very thing that drove it to work.

"That's it," Rithian said, a sickening pride coating her words. "You're targeting me with your spell, fighting through the rejection because you don't want to admit that you need me."

It took all of Misa's energy to think of what Rithian could give her. She hated the witch, and she wanted nothing more than to tear her apart. And like a switch had been flipped, the pain disappeared. Her magic pulsed through her, motivated by her bloodthirst. She smiled sweetly if only to let Rithian's guard down.

"It's stronger," Rithian said, approval in her eyes. "You've figured it out. Fast, for someone who's never known the basics of magic. Do you see the beauty of your spell?"

Misa gasped as her spell was broken. Fragments of her magic returned to her, flowing to the source somewhere in her gut to draw in more energy and rejuvenate.

Rithian was crouching. She placed a finger under Misa's chin, her sharp fingernail embedding itself into soft skin. "Bewitching is a predatory spell. When you lock onto your target and begin your enchantment, you're ensnaring your prey like a snake paralysing a rodent. It's viciously beautiful, don't you think?"

No. Bewitchment was sickening. It made Misa's stomach turn to think that she held such a disgusting power. She had wanted to murder the witch in front of her. Her spell worked to give Misa that opportunity. How could she have done that? Even if Rithian was a despicable witch, Misa would sooner have run away than become a killer. Like Ervan.

"And that's why it's important to control your instincts," Rithian whispered. With a smile, she released Misa's chin. "Try it again."

It didn't take as long for Misa to trigger her spell once more, even as each pulse sent a wave of disgust stinging the back of her throat. Rithian made her repeat it, over and over again. It was an exhausting hour. Misa's energy was spent, but the witch continued to push her to use her spell until Misa's knees gave way and sent her collapsing to the floor. Her magic was beginning to run out.

"Attach intention to that feeling," Rithian said when Misa managed to stand. "A direction for your magic to take. There would be no point in bewitchment if you can't even use it on the right person. Your target, for example, will be your intention. Direct your magic to me, Misa."

Misa tried again. She pulled up the hate she had for Rithian, forced her spell to start with the anger, the fear, the desire to bash the witch's head in. The tingle started up again, weak but steady. She didn't have many years of magic left.

Rithian. Misa urged her magic towards the witch. It's Rithian you want.

It was hesitant, faltering before carefully wrapping around Rithian's lithe slender body. A wave of repulsion shuddered through Misa, but she forced the magic to continue its stream, to ensnare the witch in its spell.

The effort forged a pounding headache against her skull until Rithian ended the spell. The witch shook her head, scowling in displeasure.

"Let's end this here," she said. "Come again tomorrow, and we shall continue."

Misa felt exhaustion sweep over her. Her shoulders sagged. "How long will it take for me to master the spell?"

Rithian shrugged. "As long as it'll take."

"I have less than two weeks. Then, I leave Harthem."

The witch didn't speak. She studied Misa with eyes of a hawk, predatory, cold, calculating. Silence screeched until she finally said, "Then it'll take less than two weeks."

Misa shuddered. She didn't like Rithian's tone, and she was suddenly very eager to leave. Rithian grinned. She brought down her orb to lead them out of the passageway. Their way back to the fountain was silent, to Misa's relief.

When Rithian parted, Misa let herself relax and breathe in the fresh, cool air. The oppressing power lifted from her chest. So long as she trained under Rithian, the witch would make sure Misa knew who was in charge.

With a sigh, Misa trudged back to the abandoned shed, wondering how she would survive the next two weeks under Rithian's sadistic guidance. She had an odd sense of dread that she would not be leaving Harthem without Rithian's mark, and she wondered how true the witch's words were when she promised Misa would revel in magic when she felt the power it gave her.

She opted to not think about it for the rest of the night.