Witch Bewitched

Chapter 6

    Misa had never realized how itchy the purgehouse uniform was, and she found a new respect for officers who could stay as still as a statue while the material bristled against their skin.

    “You should try to stop scratching,” Torren whispered.

    Misa jumped. She had been focusing so much on being discreet in her quest to find the source of her itch that she hadn’t realized Torren had stopped the carriage and joined her inside. Min-Min stirred from her sleep, stretching out her paws until her claws peeked and caught Misa’s uniform. Misa uncoiled her arm from under her officer jacket, leaving her back unscratched, and ran her hand through the cat’s fur.

    “Where’s the captain?” Misa asked, seeing that his seat was now empty.

    “He took the reins. I guess he didn’t appreciate my driving.”

    Misa snorted. She took off her cap, which had been much too large for her head and continued to slip past her eyes even after she had stuffed linen to fill in the gaps. Now that she was alone with Torren, she took the chance to press a few questions she had been struggling to keep away.

    “Torren, how’d you find out about me? You didn’t seem surprised when you saw me last night at the safehouse.”

    Torren shrugged. His face was uncharacteristically serious. “I can’t really say. Most of what I know came from Royle. I found out you were a…that you had magic yesterday when he dragged Ervan in. He called me into his office and asked me about you.”

    “Me?”

    “Yeah. He asked if I knew anyone with a black cat. Seeing Min-Min just that afternoon, I immediately thought of you. It was then that he told me you were an enchantress. I didn’t believe him at first, but then I recalled how you could easily persuade the commander to forgive me. I will admit it didn’t take me very long to have my suspicions about you.”

    Torren looked apologetic. Misa didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t know if she should even be mad because his suspicions had turned out to be true.

    “Weren’t you scared of me? Disgusted?” Misa looked away, not having the courage to face Torren while he answered.

    “No, not at all.” Torren chuckled. “It was strange. I thought I would be, but I was just fascinated. Royle said he could prove that you were an enchantress if I took him to your house. He bumped into your parents when we arrived, and they let him in. He told me what happened while you were inside after you went to bed last night, but I already knew that you hadn’t even known you had magic when I saw how you left your house.”

    “I was a little afraid the captain would turn me in,” Misa confessed. “But when I saw you at the safehouse, I trusted that I would be safe.”

    “Of course!” Torren pointed his thumb onto his chest. “I’m the almighty Torren, First Lieutenant of the Urthan Purgehouse. You can trust me to protect you!”

    Misa snorted a laugh. “That’s quite ironic. Isn’t it your job to turn in witches? Which reminds me, since when has the captain been in cohorts with Tika?”

    Torren shrugged. “I don’t believe it’s been for very long. He has been searching for an able witch soon after he met Tika. I believe parts of his plans came from her.”

    “I find it strange that he didn’t turn her in.”

    “Ah, I don’t think he has to. Tika is sick. She won’t be on this earth for very long. Royle has simply decided to make her last days useful to his conquest.”

    “Just as he decided to make my unfortunate circumstance a tool,” Misa bemoaned. She glared at the offending man through a small gap at the front of the carriage.

    Torren chuckled. “Royle can be compared to a predator. He seizes any opportunity that passes his way and holds tight until he can use it. But, he is a good man, and a damn good friend to go out for drinks. He doesn’t even care that you’re a…witch. Unlike most, he does not discriminate against witches based on what they are. It’s only because his position obligates him to execute witches that he does so. Of course, I’ve tried many times to change his mind, but now I’m beginning to wonder if hunting witches is the right thing to do. You aren’t like what we believe witches are, after all.”

    “I never chose to be a witch,” Misa muttered. She kept her gaze on the window, letting the wind whip across her cheek.

    “I know.” Torren sat back on his seat. “I know.”

    The early morning began to brighten, and Misa could now make out the vague shapes of bushes and trees. She yawned. Her night had been restless, and just as she had dozed off, the captain had pounded on her door to wake her up. Misa didn’t have enough time to flatten her chest as the captain had requested, but the uniform was large enough to cover enough parts of her that would give away her gender. She resolved to figure it out once they reached their destination.

    The sun began to slide past the horizon by the time they reached the city. The morning bustle of merchants, shopkeepers, and other citizens kept Misa’s attention on the streets. She burned the scene into her mind and wished she had her supplies to paint every detail. The taste of freedom couldn’t be more mouth-watering. Misa couldn’t believe what her parents had kept her from, and she felt a pang of anger when she saw children walking to schools.

    They pushed and laughed. Some ran with pure happiness etched into their faces. Misa’s childhood could have been just as exciting. She remembered watching in envy her peers walking to school while she was trapped in her home. Then, because her father thought they were persuading her to leave the house, he had a tall wall built around the property, keeping even that small window of freedom locked away.

    The children disappeared as the carriage took a turn around a corner. Their laughter lingered in the air before the clinking of a blacksmith’s hammer against steel drowned them away.

    “You should put your hat on now,” Torren said. He scanned outside the window as the carriage drew to a halt. “And let your little friend go. It wouldn’t do her any good if anyone in the purgehouse gets their hold on her.”

    Misa scrambled for her cap, which had slipped onto the ground during the journey. The linen had disappeared beneath the seats.

    With a sigh, Misa slipped her cap over her head, making sure to hide her long hair. She hoped no occasion arose when she would have to take it off. Then, she gently wrapped her fingers under Min-Min to rouse her from her nap.

    “Min-Min,” she whispered. “You have to go now. Thank you for always staying with me.”

    Misa embraced the cat, comforted by the deep rumble reverberating from its throat. Then, she let Min-Min go, and the cat leaped through the window before shooting towards the bustling street.

    Torren studied her, rubbing his chin in thought. “I’m not sure you can pull off being a man, if I’m being honest. Maybe a boy, but even then…”

    Misa’s stomach flipped. “What’ll happen if they find out I’m a woman?”

    “It’s never happened before, so I’m not sure. Still, we should be careful. The purgehouse is sensitive when it comes to witches, and I don’t want them finding out about you. See if you can act a bit more manly. We can’t help that your shoulders aren’t broad, and your size is smaller than the average male, but if you can act like a man, we might be able to get a pass. It’s not uncommon for new recruits to start out young, so I don’t think you should worry.”

    “How do I do that?”

    Torren grinned as he opened the carriage door. “Just follow my lead.”

    He jumped out and fell into the form Misa had seen the day before. His back was straight, his arms fell to his side, and he kept his eyes straight ahead. The captain also seemed different. Misa couldn’t place her finger on it until she saw the officers guarding the purgehouse salute.

    He was the leader of the purgehouse, trusted by the commander to run the place and keep the men in line. Misa couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly changed, but the captain’s presence screamed for submission.

    “Are you going to get out, recruit, or are you waiting for a man to lead you out like a woman?”

    It took a moment for Misa to realise the captain was directing his question to her. Her face burned when she registered what he had said. The officers, including Torren, snickered and struggled to keep a straight face. Misa wanted to retort, but the cap slipping over her eyes kept reminded her that at the purgehouse, she was to be a man. She supposed the captain had deliberately questioned her “masculinity” to remind her of her newfound role, but she didn’t like the added disdain towards women.

    “S-sorry, sir,” she managed to say without snapping. She gripped the length of her trousers and bumbled out of the carriage. She somehow managed not to trip over the ridiculously long material.

    “Lieutenant, see to it that he gets the same training as the others. He might be a bit late, but that’s no excuse for incompetency.”

    “Yes, sir!” Torren saluted as the captain entered the purgehouse. Misa clumsily mimicked him.

    “Come along, Cadet. Let’s get you nice and ready for the purgehouse.” Torren gestured for Misa to follow. As she rushed to follow him, Misa tripped over her trousers and grabbed Torren’s waist. He paused. Misa thought he would help her up. Instead, he stepped away and let her fall to the ground.

    The toes of his boots pointed towards her. Misa pushed up her hat to see him staring down at her. “Careful now. You don’t want to pull down a higher rank’s trousers. Only a miracle will keep you in the purgehouse then.” He winked.

    Misa bit back a curse and got off the ground. Her gray uniform was caked in dust. She coughed.

    “Yes, sir,” she strangled out. She wondered how she was keeping her temper down, then she remembered that if she blew up, she could get herself killed.

    “Right, let’s get going then. And a little word of advice,” Torren lifted his leg to show her his boot, “Next time, tuck your legs into the boots. It’ll keep you from tripping.”

    Not trusting herself to speak, Misa nodded. She followed Torren into the building. Wooden planks lined the floor, but the walls were made of smooth stone. The room they entered only had a desk and a round man sitting behind it. He didn’t pay them any mind as they moved through a large entrance.

    The doorway led them into a larger area filled with officers and desks. They all gave Torren a salute but ignored Misa, which she found she was grateful for. Torren only acknowledged them with a smile and continued on to another doorway.

    This time, the room was filled with long tables and benches. It didn’t take long for Misa to identify it as the mess hall.

    “First thing’s first,” Torren said. “A cadet’s first job is to clean up the mess hall. It’s unfortunate you were late. The others worked in threes or fours, but it looks like you’re alone on this one.”

    Misa’s jaws dropped. “You must be joking!”

    “I wish I was. But, it’s tradition, or protocol depending on who you ask.” Torren shrugged. “I went through it, Royle went through it, pretty much every single officer you saw outside went through it. It’s not that bad once you get the hang of it. Just watch for the potatoes. It takes forever to get those off your boots when you step on them, and it’s a pain when it starts to mold.”

    “I can’t clean all this up alone. And what happened to finding Nisha? Weren’t you and the captain supposed to brief me on her today?”

    “Shush, shush!” Torren glanced behind him. “You can’t talk about that in the open. I’ll come get you when Royle calls for you, okay. Until then, you gotta act like a cadet.”

    “But I don’t know how to!”

    “It’s okay, Misa,” Torren whispered. “Just stay quiet and clean up. If anyone starts up a conversation, stutter and keep your answers short. Remember what you went through with Royle this morning.”

    Misa took in a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I’ll try. Please hurry.”

    “No promises. Good luck.” Torren smiled then left the room.

    Misa regarded the room in dismay. Food had been spilled everywhere, and there wasn’t a single table that didn’t have some kind of liquid dripping off it. The smell nauseated her stomach. It was not going to be a pleasant job.

    Rolling up her sleeves, Misa looked for the cleaning supplies. All she could find were a mop, a bucket, and a rag. Resisting the urge to gag, she began to clear out the first table.