Witch Bewitched

Chapter 7

    When Torren finally came to get Misa, she had finished cleaning half the mess hall. He whistled as he dragged a finger across a table.

    “I haven’t seen the tables this clean in a long while. I probably should have told you that you didn’t have to work that hard. The most we do is gather all the crumbs to feed the pigs and wipe away the sauces. No need for soap.”

    Misa groaned when she straightened. Something cracked, and she felt a dull ache throbbing on her lower back.

    “Ah, well, it’s all right.” Torren gestured to the doorway. “Let’s go. Royle wants to see you.”

    “About time.” Misa tossed the rag on the table and followed Torren back out to the officers’ room. The captain’s office was a floor above, past another room filled with officers. Misa surmised they were higher ranks than the officers below them, taking note of the different colors padding their shoulders. Torren’s own were colored green with golden tresses hanging off them.

    A small hallway separated the captain’s room from his subordinates. Torren rapped his knuckle on the door. He didn’t wait for a reply and opened it. He allowed Misa to enter, then instead of following her in, he shut the door behind her.

    Misa swallowed. She stood at the entrance and observed her surroundings as best as she could without moving. The captain was at his desk, flicking through several papers. His brows were knit in concentration, and his lips were set in a thin line. A bookshelf filled with large books and files sat behind him like a guard. The room was lit by a single window on the wall next to him. A grandfather’s clock ticked loudly from a corner near Misa.

    “Don’t just stand there,” the captain said. He gestured to the space between two couches. “Let’s have a chat.”

    Nodding, Misa shambled her way to the front of the captain’s desk. He was busy writing on the paperwork. The tube connecting the back of the pen with the ink bounced like a springy black snake.

    Misa had no idea why she was being so submissive towards the captain. She tried to recall the annoyance she felt the night before. His endless list of personal preferences, his obvious amusement at her humiliation, his insistence to take her report and talk to her parents, his enthusiasm for food.

    Gradually, her confidence returned. She wasn’t a cadet. She was someone the captain needed to purge an evil witch.

    “Have you been working hard?” the captain asked. Misa jumped at the sudden question.

    She swallowed before she spoke, “At the mess hall? Yes, I have.”

    He stopped writing and regarded her. “I’m assuming you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here to train.”

    Misa blinked in surprise. “You said it was to keep an eye on me. To make sure I didn’t run away.”

    For a moment, the captain remained silent. The grandfather clock ticked. “I see.” He twirled the pen between his fingers. “You’re a lot duller than I thought.”

    A flare of anger spread across Misa’s cheeks.

    “What did you say?” she snapped. “Dull? Well, I’m sorry I believed you! You gave me a good enough reason for bringing me here. Why should I suspect you had ulterior motives?”

    The captain raised a brow. “I’m sorry. It seems I was mistaken. You’re not dull, you’re naïve. I suspect that if it weren’t for your magic, you would have died on the streets a long time ago.”

    “I didn’t even know I had magic!” Misa struggled to keep her voice low. “And I survived well enough. I don’t know why you’re insulting me, Captain, but if this is how you’re going to ask me for help, I’m leaving.”

    “Don’t be hasty, Miss Carpenter.” The captain’s calm, cool tone stoked the fury blazing in Misa. “I don’t mean any offense, but your sheltered life seems to have dulled your intuition. As for your magic, you have been unconsciously using it for years.”

    Misa couldn’t believe it. He was accusing her of using witchcraft when she never even read a book about it. “I don’t think you know what you’re saying, Captain. How could I have been using magic if I wasn’t even aware I had it?”

    “It’s instinctual. All witches have a signature spell they rely on. So much so that most use the spell without even thinking. Tika’s happened to be bewitching, and as she passed it on to you, you have had the ability to charm almost anyone you used the spell on.”

    “I do not bewitch anyone!” Misa didn’t know anyone else who could drive her into so much anger. “Is that what you see me as? Some seductress using her body to get what she wants?”

    “It’s an unconscious spell,” the captain continued. He placed his pen into its cap. “I know you are not one to intentionally seduce anyone. You are far from it. In fact, you wouldn’t even know how to pull a man to a bed. However, this spell that Tika’s magic implanted in your instincts has been triggered over and over again. Moments of fear will have had you using the spell to charm anyone to help you get away from the source of your unease. As you use it more and more over the years, the simplest want for something can trigger it.”

    Misa hated that what he said made sense. She couldn’t deny that she had somehow persuaded more than a few people to give her what she wanted, the most recent example being the commander.

    “I think I’ve heard enough.” Misa clenched her fists. “Perhaps you should start telling me about Nisha.”

    The captain stood. Not expecting the movement, Misa took a step back. He gave her an amused look then gestured to the couches.

    “It’s a bit to take in. I think you should take a seat while I speak.”

    He turned and browsed his collection of books. Misa hesitated then took a seat. She fiddled with her fingers, trying to forget the anger that the captain’s words ignited.

    The captain dropped a pile of papers on the table between the couches and sat on the opposite couch.

    “So,” Misa said. “How are we going to find this Nisha witch?”

    Captain Bentham grabbed the first file from the pile and opened it. He turned it around so it was right-side up for Misa.

    “Nisha is the most dangerous witch we know of,” the captain said, keeping his voice low. “Much of what we know about her came from Tika. The two have a long history.”

    “Is that why we have to find her? Because she’s dangerous?”

    “All witches are dangerous. But yes, that is one of the reasons.” The captain pointed at the page. Misa read through the first lines.

    “This is a report,” she said, skimming over the words. “Of a fire that burned down a village. It says it was an accident. Lightning struck hay near a barn, and the fire spread uncontrollably. Why are you showing me this?”

    “This is one of the incidents we believe Nisha is behind. It’s true that the purgehouse executes any witch it finds, but we don’t actively look for them. That is unless they cause harm to the people. Nisha is not dangerous just because she is a witch. She is dangerous because she gains more power by slaughtering innocent people.”

    Misa read over the report once more. She couldn’t understand why the captain thought it was Nisha who caused the fire. “With all due respect, Captain, I still don’t see why you think Nisha was behind this. It looks like an accident.”

    “That is what Nisha wanted to make it look like. Once again, your naivety blinds you.”

    Misa glared at him. “Enough with my inexperience. It’s not my fault my parents imprisoned me my entire life.”

    “Right here, Miss Carpenter,” the captain pointed at a line in the middle of the report. “Why don’t you read it out loud?”

    Struggling to keep her breath steady, Misa followed the captain’s finger and began to read, “’All shelters have been burned into ash. No bodies could be recovered. They are presumed to have been lost in the debris, but it is possible survivors fled then returned to bury their loved ones.’ So?”

    “No bodies, Miss Carpenter.” The captain seemed almost annoyed. “Rituals involving mass s*******r always result in a population disappearing without a trace. Had there been at least one body, I would have filed this away as an accident.”

    “But it’s still possible…” Misa wondered why she was trying to defend Nisha.

    “I suppose it is, but this isn’t the first time Nisha has tried something like this.” The captain slammed his hand on the pile. “All these are a compilation of identical incidents occurring over the past century.”

    “Century?” Misa’s mind reeled. She had always believed that witches were immortal, but to confirm that a witch had been living longer than any normal human being chilled her to the core. “You’re telling me Nisha’s been alive for more than one hundred years?”

    “Yes, possibly for even longer than you think.”

    “But Tika said witches weren’t immortal!”

    “They’re not. Nisha could only live for so long because she stole the lives of others. She added years onto her lifespan using small populations as a sacrifice. She could have killed millions if not more.”

    Misa took a moment to process his words. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Her world had been turned upside down in the span of one night. What she believed about witches her whole life had been disproven by a dying, motherly witch lying on her bed, and now Nisha was reverting her back to believing witches were evil.

    “If she’s been gathering power for more than a century, how are we ever going to find her and defeat her?” Misa stared at the page. The words blurred into inky blots, melding into a picture of dizzying despair.

    “It would help if you accepted Tika’s offer,” he said. “She is the only witch who could rival Nisha, and if you have her power, you may be able to bring Nisha down should the opportunity arise.”

    Misa paled. Dread coiled her stomach into knots. “You want me to become as powerful as Nisha? I’m sorry, Captain, but I can’t. I said I wanted to get rid of my magic, not get more.”

    “I understand.” His shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly. “There is another way we might defeat her. I have been pursuing Nisha even before I have been a captain. I’ve gathered enough intel to know she’s been rounding up witches from all over Plathea. Witches have a society separate from the one we are familiar with, and they have their own laws that help them evade the public eye.

    “Most are reluctant to gather into a congregation that could result in war, but Nisha’s had years to try to convince them. According to a source, she has convinced more than few witches to join her conquest. She’s beginning to win them over. If we don’t act quick, the world as we know it will come to an end. We need the other witches to stand against Nisha. That is our only other option.”

    Misa thought back to the school kids that she had seen from the carriage. The life she never had the chance to live, but maybe she could protect others from losing the opportunity.

    “I understand,” Misa said. She had managed to calm herself enough to grasp the gravity of the situation. “What will you have me do?”

    The captain closed the file and returned it to the top of the pile. “There is a reason I wanted you to join the purgehouse. In a few weeks’ time—after the witch festival—I will be heading out to Harthem for a briefing. Nisha’s last known location is in the mountains near there. It’s an opportunity to investigate without raising any suspicions.”

    Misa’s heart fluttered. She had read so much about the mountains of Harthem and had long given up her dream of painting them in person. She swallowed her thoughts. Harthem was a small city to the south of Giligha rumored to have the highest population of witches in all of Plathea. She couldn’t be thinking of her own leisure when that population could be planning Plathea’s demise.

    “It’s not uncommon for a captain to choose a recruit to accompany him on simple missions out of the city. It gives them experience, and they’re usually quite handier to run errands than paid servants. Of course, to have you tagging along, you have to blend in so no one suspects anything. If anyone, witch or not, finds out about our little investigation, everything will fall into chaos, and Nisha could start her war prematurely.”

    A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Misa’s eyes widened, and she shot the captain a fearful look. He held up a hand to signal her to keep quiet.

    “Captain,” Torren called out, his voice clear despite the door standing in his way. “Officer Ramor here to see you.”

    “Tell him I’m busy.”

    “He says it’s urgent, sir.”

    The captain sighed. He nodded at Misa. “Very well. We shall continue this conversation another time. I will make sure to brief you on our mission before we leave the city.”

    “Of course.” Misa was glad the meet had come to an end. Her head was filled with too much information, and she was afraid it would burst if she stayed for much longer. She stood and adjusted her cap. “I will see you at a later time, Captain.”

    She opened the door, and a heavyset man barged past her. She heard him spill the frantic message before Torren shut the door.

    “Captain! Ervan was found dead in his cell this morning.”