The Witch of Storn

Chapter 21

Rey awoke with a headache and a tongue which felt like it hadn’t been watered in centuries. She tried to moisten her tongue with saliva, but it only made her condition worse and ended in a horrible sounding cough. The coughing irritated her throat further because it was a dry one. Is this how I die (again)? A cough? There wasn’t even any way to reach Zaria; she tried to call out but only ended up hacking violently. She fell back into the bed from her sitting position, body shaking slightly with every cough. She was filled with despair. Life had been over too early. She thought of her father, her friends, even Malra – she would miss them all.

Wait – when did I start missing Rhaenar’s family and friends? And when did I get so dramatic?

The questions had to be answered some other time, as Zaria had already entered the room. There was a tray in her hand, and she set it onto the bed in the blink of an eye, grabbing a cup and taking it to Rey. The cup was grabbed from her as soon as she got within Rey's reach, prompting a frown from her. The recipient of her disapproval was unaware of it though, gulping down the water like a person who had been without water for a month.Rey tipped her head forward again, back into its normal position, rounding up her drink with a refreshed “Ah!” She held the cup out to Zaria, who took it from her and placed it onto the bedside table.

"No, wait— I was asking for more, I didn't mean I was done with drinking—"

"You should have said so then, Lady. Clairvoyance is not one of my disciplines, and I am not your maid."

Rey looked away from the stern gaze and bored holes into the blanket with her eyes instead.

"Sorry," she said.

"Come again? I'm afraid I don't speak mumble."

Rey glared at the woman. After about five seconds of exchanging heated stares she looked away again.

"I'm sorry."

Zaria refused to let it go though.

"For?"

This time Rey refused to budge. She just folded her arms and examined the room. It was different in the more natural light of day. The shelves and cupboards seemed bigger now, with all the shadows from the night gone. There was a rug on the floor — Rey hadn't noticed. It looked so thick and so soft; she wondered what walking barefoot on it would feel like. There was a chest on top of the wardrobe, wrapped in chains and padlocks. What was so important that it had to be protected so fiercely? A beam of sunlight fell into the room through the open window, illuminating the floor at the end of its path in an oval of light. The blanket looked different too; it actually had tiny lines of golden embroidery woven through its length and breadth, giving it a magical look. Rey squinted at the blanket. The embroidered symbols made her feel weird – were they moving or was it just her imagination? She leaned towards the blanket for a closer look—

“Ouch! What was that for?”

Rey glared at Zaria as she rubbed her head. The knock had come out of nowhere, and she had even forgotten Zaria was in the room with her. Rey wasn’t really expecting an apology from the older woman, but the answering glare Zaria gave her was too much.

Rey shouted at the woman as she bustled about the room, opening drawers and looking in cupboards.

“Hey! There’s something called an apology? You shouldn’t even be touching me—err, what I mean is that it’s rude to hit someone like that out of nowhere! I’m not a child, and even if I was, you still have no right...” Rey stopped. She was angry, but the words coming out of her mouth weren’t helping the situation. What she had actually meant to say was “what the hell!” instead Rhaenar’s leftover personality had grabbed the reins from her. It might have been rude, but Rhaenar would have been right. Zaria didn’t have to hit her. As a matter of fact, why did she hit her?

“Fine, I’ll accept your apology,” she rolled her eyes at Zaria, who ignored it, “but why did you knock me? I wasn’t even doing anything.”

Zaria seemed to have found what she was looking for in a drawer, taking out a pale blue bundle and shutting the drawer. She said nothing as she approached the bed, then suddenly she grabbed the blanket off Rey and dropped the bundle in its place. Rey reached out and taking hold of it, she unfolded it. It was a different blanket, plainer and less soft.

“I was completely fine with the first blanket, you know,” she said, even as she shook the new one out to its full length. Zaria raised an eyebrow at her, folding up the blanket in her hands. Then she watched for a while as Rey gritted her teeth and tried to place the blue blanket over her legs. Rey really didn’t want to ask for Zaria’s help especially since the woman had been so irritating, but she gave up at last. If she stretched too far her body would protest with blinding pain, so she looked at Zaria for help. Even with the obvious plea in Rey’s face the woman still didn’t move, so Rey steeled herself and gathered all her humility and meekness.

“Zaria?”

There was an evil smile on Zaria’s lips as she answered, and for a brief moment Rey decided she could live without a blanket. Then a breeze swept into the room again, bringing a sharp chill with it.

“Will you please help me cover my legs with the blanket?”

Zaria’s smile got even wider.

“But of course, Rhaenar, it’s no trouble at all!”

Rey rolled her eyes as Zaria took the blanket from her hands, making sure the woman didn’t see.

“I saw that,” Zaria said as she laid the blanket over Rey.

Oh. Rey felt sheepish for a bit but Zaria didn’t seem to mind. When she had finished and Rey was once more snug and warm she stepped back, turning a little to pick up the cup from the bedside table.

“Hungry?”

Rey nodded as soon as the question left Zaria’s mouth. She was starving. The water had taken away some of the ache in her belly but only a solid meal would make it disappear.

“Can you read runescript?”

Rey blinked at the question. What did food have to do with runescript? And what was runescript for that matter?

She answered anyway. “No.”

“Then shouldn’t you know better than to attempt reading runes you don’t even understand? What do they teach you children these days?”

Zaria’s frown grew deeper when she saw the blank look on Rey’s face.

“The blanket? The symbols sewed into it?”

Rey finally remembered the golden embroidery and the way the symbols seemed to be in motion if she looked at them out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh,” was all she could say.

“Oh,” Zaria said in a tone that implied Rey should have known better. The most annoying part abut it was that she was right. Rhaenar would have known better, spoilt as she was. Rey should have used her brain and knowledge from her previous life. It was one of the golden rules of fiction: Don’t touch or interact with any unfamiliar signs or symbols. Basically, don’t look at anything, don’t touch anything, and don’t even move unless you’re sure it’s safe. How had she forgotten that? In her defence it was a blanket. Blankets weren’t supposed to be able to do anything to you if you stared too long at them. They might get offended but they wouldn’t hurt you.

“What would have happened if you hadn’t,” she grimaced as she spat out the words, “knocked me on the head?”

Zaria’s frown eased a little. Rey theorized that the mention of her earlier abuse of Rey had made the woman feel a little better, sadist that she was.

“Anything could have had happened. At best you would only end up with a mild headache from reading something too profound for you.”

She paused her speech to send Rey a look. Rey avoided her judging eyes, choosing to pout at the window instead. She had already apologized, what more did Zaria want from her?

“At worst—” Rey’s ears perked up at the words and she turned her face back to Zaria, “– it would end in death, which would be the other favourable outcome. Otherwise you could have had your brain turned to mush or you would have gone mad. Don’t poke at things you know nothing about, girl.”

She took the cup again and left the room with a satisfied smile on her face. Without needing to be told Rey knew it was due to the horror that was definitely showing on her face, if the way she felt was any indication. She could have died just by staring at some embroidery for a while? Rey quickly checked her current covering, patting her chest in relief when she ensured it was without any deadly embroidery.

That was a close one – she wasn’t even mad anymore. Rather she was grateful. Zaria might be annoying but she had a good heart from what she had seen so far. The older woman reminded her a lot of her old principal from secondary school; a stern woman who everyone referred to as ‘The Demon Queen’. Rey and her fellow school girls always ran whenever she was spotted, as the woman always had something to complain about.

‘Why is your hair so rough? Can’t your parents afford something as basic as a hairbrush?’

‘Get rid of those claws – this is not the ghetto.’

And so on. Still, for all her grumpiness and general dislike of anyone in her vicinity, Miss Dandridge was always ready to ask about a sick girl or allow late payments of school fees. After graduating some of the girls usually found that the person they missed the most from Aldine Memorial Girls’ was the principal. When she died some years before Rey’s new life had begun everyone had been surprised at all the people who had showed up for the funeral.

Was Zaria really so similar to Miss Dandridge though? She didn’t know much about the woman, having met her only a day ago. There wasn’t any way to tell if she was genuine or if she was faking everything. That was another question – when could she get out of bed? Since waking up here Rey hadn’t needed to use the bathroom for some reason but how about when she finally felt nature calling? Was Zaria going to hold her up while she did her business over the toilet? Rey could already hear the sharp rejection she would get if that request was made.

Wondering how she had gone from thinking about Zaria to toilets, Rey shook off any thoughts about toilets, choosing to cross that bridge whenever she arrived at it. The pressing question was: could Zaria be trusted? So far Rey hadn’t had the worst experience with her – she’d been fed, clothed and sheltered properly, even her wounds had been treated. She didn’t like to remember it, but what had happened with Helene proved you couldn’t really trust anyone, no matter how long you’d known them or how close you were. Placing wholehearted trust in Zaria could spell doom for her – one minute she could be laughing and eating merrily, and the next she would be sold off as a slave or something. Zaria could even be an assassin, here to finish the job! Rey paused. That assumption was admittedly reaching too far, since Zaria could have just killed her when she found her hanging on by a thread to life. There was no need to let it get this far. Zaria had acted suspiciously though. The night before she was surely the one who had made Rey sleep off, and then just now with the blanket? Why hadn’t she given Rey a plain one at first to make things easier?

On the other hand, what if she trusted Zaria not to sell her into s*****y or do something bad to her? She would get the help she needed, and maybe the woman would even take her to meet her—Rhaenar’s—aunt in Stormness.

There were a lot of benefits to letting Zaria take care of her, so Rey decided she would stay here until she healed fully. After that she would make her exit as fast as she could and say goodbye to Zaria then. In the meantime she would be careful with everything in this house, even the food.

The door creaked and Rey looked up. Zaria had stepped in with a dish-laden tray in her hands; the sight of the tray made Rey’s features grow brighter. Food! Zaria must have noticed because she smirked at Rey as she walked to the bedside table and placed the tray on it after shifting the earlier occupants of the table away.

“For a highborn female you seem to have quite the attraction to food,” she said. Rey waved the teasing away, fingers tapping the bed in anticipation.

“Who doesn’t like to eat?” she said, staring with intense focus as Zaria uncovered the dishes.

Zaria glanced at her. “Most highborn women like to retain a graceful and ethereal figure. You don’t?”

Rey’s face scrunched up. “How can a person’s figure be ethereal?”

Zaria shrugged. “Don’t ask me; I’m not the one who makes the rules,” she raised an eyebrow at Rey, “shouldn’t you know this, being a highborn girl?”

Rey rolled her eyes. Rhaenar knew of course, but she too agreed that the rules were trash for the most part.

“I don’t need to follow those rules. Besides I’m convalescing. I should be eating a lot so my body can heal quickly.”

Zaria tilted her head, giving Rey a strange look. A second later it had been wiped away and she put on her regular poker face. She handed the tray to Rey.

“Here’s your food.”

“Aren’t you eating?”

“I have eaten already – what do you think the time is? It’s noon already.”

It is? Rey looked out of the window. It was bright outside but she didn’t think it would be so late in the day.

“Eat fast; we still have much to talk about.” She walked away as she said the words.

“Wait!” Zaria turned and looked at Rey, one hand on the doorknob, “we can talk while we eat.”

“I thought highborn didn’t eat while they talked—“

“I don’t mind,” Rey thought all these rules were stupid, “I’m sure you still have things to do and I have a lot of questions too.”

Zaria took her hand off the doorknob and made her way to the chair she had sat in the previous night. “Fine, let’s talk.”