28

Patrols increased due to the deaths of the Hunters but, it seemed, Turotara had performed her task well. Daras had returned to the town, ears pricking for any news, but only talk of wild animals reached him. For the moment, they were still safe and undetected. The same could not be said for the Candidate. More poles were becoming erected outside the confines of Comragon, ready to carry yet more sacrifices.

Miraveh had taken a circuit of the town, staying far enough away as to not alert anyone of her presence. She needed to allow her magic its freedom in order to work out where within the town she could find the Candidate for replacing one of the Pillars and, now, she had better idea where to look, though she would have to search blind within the town once they enacted her plan.

Daras returned from yet another reconnaissance of Comragon, loaded with food, and he moved to Sialira before even looking at Miraveh. Her attempts to placate the young Witch had fallen upon deaf ears. Miraveh had crossed a line and no amount of apologies could break the girl's stone-faced attitude towards her.

"What news?" Miraveh looked across to the young Southerner thief, but Daras did not acknowledge her. "Daras! News!"

"They prepare for executions. Apparently, they like to stagger the deaths. It has more impact that way." He sneered those last words, an expression that looked odd upon the usually happy thief. "But, I have a map for you. I found a third cousin that I met once, many years ago. She was kind enough to supply the food, too."

He reached within his jacket, taking out a roll of parchment, and held it out to Miraveh. As she took it, Daras' eyes slid away from her and returned to Sialira. She had lost him as well as Sialira and now Miraveh wondered whether any of them would help in the dangerous task they were about to embark upon.

As with the ambush against the three Hunters, Miraveh needed both Daras and Sialira with her. She could only trust Turotara to watch over Brothimir, though Miraveh would prefer the heavy-set guard to stand by her side, should things not go well. Instead, Daras was the only one that could accompany her and Sialira and this fractured relationship between them did not bode well for success.

She unfurled the map, taking four loose, nearby stones to place on the corners, and began to peruse it. Another three, smaller stones marked the positions she had opened up her magic to search for the Candidate and, using those markers, she had a good idea where the they were. Within the harbour area, if she had calculated correctly.

The comforting presence of Turotara joined her and, together, they examined the map to every last house and alley. Daras' third cousin had drawn the map with great detail. They had talent. With a short, thin branch, Miraveh began to trace a route through the town, Turotara pointing out better, faster paths when needed.

"The problem, as I see it, is that we haven't seen many newcomers enter the town. Not Hunters, at least." Turotara scratched her throat as she concentrated on the map. She tapped one set of buildings, marked 'barracks'. "They may feel the presence of new Hunters odd. You'd have to circle around the barracks and that would make escape difficult if they see through your ruse."

"We'll enter just before mid-day. Daras says the entire town tend to stay indoors until the afternoon." She reached to the side, tugging one of the stolen Hunter cloaks towards her. "Those Hunters that patrol at that time wear their hoods up. White. It reflects the sunlight. That works to our advantage. If we could trust him, we could take him with us and say we caught a deserter if questioned."

She didn't look towards Brothimir, only jerking her head in his direction, but she knew the Hunter heard everything. He always heard everything and she could tell he filed away every last word, waiting for any opportunity to use those words against them. The man had a slyness about him that sickened Miraveh and she wished she had set him free as soon as they had emerged from the portal, all those days before.

"They won't hinder you at all, now you have the relic." Brothimir shifted upon his backside, trying to take a look at the map and Miraveh folded it out of his sight. "Though you won't have it, will you. You're going to give it to the little teary one. What a waste. I say you should have it. You wouldn't need any of this subterfuge. Simply go in, kill everyone and have done with it."

Turotara shoved a large hand into Brothimir's chest, sending him tumbling backwards, a laugh erupting from him as he came to a halt. He shuffled back to a sitting position, his bound hands of little help. Once righted, he gave Miraveh a wolf-like grin that she wanted to carve from his face. She turned her face from him, unwilling to let him see how much he had goaded her.

He was, of course, correct. Even she knew it and she felt certain that Sialira knew it, too. If she took the relic, held it and added its power to her own, she could crush any opposition. A swallow rose in her throat as she remembered the anguish and the ecstasy she had felt the last time she had touched a relic. She both dearly wanted that power and desperately feared it and what she would become should she accept it.

"We're not like you!" For the first time since Miraveh had scolded her, Sialira spoke to someone other than Daras. "We don't kill indiscriminately. You call Witches evil, but we have never slaughtered innocent people just because they were born different. You think you are on the side of right and justice, but how many deaths does it take? How many have to die before you realise you are the evil ones?"

"No. Witches simply stand idle as a noble order of warriors are slaughtered, instead." Brothimir spoke to Sialira, but stared at Miraveh. "Chased, harried and picked off, one-by-one. Begging for assistance from Witches to help them against a beast with magic, only to receive ... nothing. And now magical creatures ravage the lands and the Witches do nothing. Elves and dwarves and goblins seek to displace humans and the Witches do nothing. You are evil by your callous lack of action, if nothing else."

"Turotara. Hit him until he stops talking." With a raise of the eyebrow, Turotara began to move towards Brothimir, but Miraveh held her back. "Wait. That was a jest. He's lucky I still have a sense of humour."

Turotara gave Brothimir one last, lingering look that made it perfectly clear she would have done exactly as Miraveh had asked had she not changed her mind. She then moved across to the sack of food Daras had brought from Comragon, tearing a handful of bread from a loaf and starting to chew on it as she sat down, watching Brothimir.

"Well, I don't have a sense of humour." Standing, Sialira glared at Brothimir with every ounce of hatred she could find within herself, before turning to head out of the back of the clearing. "I need to practice my magic, because, apparently, I'm pitiful."

Miraveh deserved that and she knew she did. If only she had kept her tongue. Taken a leaf out of Yusuvur's book and controlled her emotions. But Miraveh was not Yusuvur and, as glad as that made her feel, it meant that she did not have the elder Witch's self-control, or her ability to marshal her comrades when needed. Miraveh was a mere shadow as far as those concerns. Daras stood, about to follow Sialira, like a lovestruck puppy.

"Daras, one moment." He stopped, turned towards Miraveh and the smile fell from his features. "Did you find out when they'll perform the executions?"

"The day after tomorrow. Apparently it's a local festival day, though I've never heard of it." He began to turn once more and stopped. He glanced towards Miraveh and looked away. "Give it time. With Sialira and me. What you did ... it upset her and what upsets her upsets me. She is ... special to me."

He said nothing more, swinging the low-hanging branches out of the way. Miraveh could already feel Sialira's magic blooming as the girl practiced. Miraveh had never asked what Sialira practiced, nor had she watched the practice. She had no stomach for magic, even though she now craved the chance to use a relic once again. Everything felt at odds, of late.

"In all fairness, I completely understand why she's upset. Morally, even I find it repugnant." Brothimir gave an exaggerated, grimace, looking as though sickened at the thought. "To do such a thing to an enemy, such as myself, is understandable, but to a comrade? And you think you're trying to be 'good'."

"What are you talking about?" Brow furrowed, Miraveh looked to Turotara, but the burly guard shrugged her massive shoulders, as bewildered as Miraveh. "I got angry and said some harsh, maybe cruel things, but nothing 'morally repugnant'!"

Brothimir squinted his eyes, tilting his head as he searched Miraveh's features. He seemed to consider something and then began to laugh, throwing back his head. He laughed for a long time, confusing both Miraveh and Turotara.

"You really don't know what you've done, do you? Amateurs! And when you did it to me, you didn't know then, either? Oh, this is ... you really are the most stupid and most powerful magic wielder I've ever met. You absolutely terrify me!" Brothimir tapped a finger to his temple, difficult with bound hands, and then pointed towards Miraveh. "You really must learn to control yourself. Without knowing it, you used magic on me and your friend. That's why she's upset! You compelled her to do exactly what you tell her to do! You enslaved her!"

Miraveh felt her stomach turn. As soon as Brothimir said it aloud, she knew it was true. But, how she had learned to do that, she had no idea. The only thing she knew was that she owed Sialira a deep and heartfelt apology. Though Miraveh wasn't certain the girl would ever forgive her, no matter what Miraveh said.

-+-

Daras did not want to leave them alone, but Sialira ushered him aside, their fingers lingering together until Daras moved away, back into the grove of trees. He gave Miraveh one last, sorrowful shake of the head before allowing the branches to fall back into place. Of course Sialira had told him what Miraveh had done. The two younger ones had become close over the course of their journey.

That left only the two of them. Stood in trampled long-grass, where Sialira had come several times to practice her magic, or simply to spend time alone. The girl had accompanied Miraveh only to teach her how to use her magic, and Miraveh had waved away every single attempt. She hadn't agreed to put herself in such danger, or to suffer because of Miraveh's chaotic use of magic.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to run away." Sialira folded herself to the ground, sitting with her legs to one side, and picked at flattened strands of grass. She didn't look at Miraveh. "You have to find the Candidate and it's my duty to help as a Witch of the Coven of Scales."

Miraveh considered crouching in front of Sialira, but that felt a little condescending. It would look as though she treated her as a little girl, trying to explain in simple terms that a child could understand. She couldn't sit, either. That would feel too comfortable, as though they were discussing which boy to take to a festival and the thoughts of festivals only reminded Miraveh that the Hunters were using a local festival as an excuse to kill more Witches.

"I know what I did. I didn't know I was doing it, but that's no excuse." She thought back to Brothimir's words, that she had done the same to him, somehow, but she felt no guilt about that. "I'm sorry. If I'd learned how to control my magic, it would never have happened."

"Wouldn't it?" Now Sialira looked up to Miraveh, but she didn't look angry. She sighed, shaking her head. "You're just like her. Don't get me wrong, in some ways that's a good thing, but you share an unstoppable determination and an impregnable knowledge that what you do is right and everyone should do as you say as a matter of course. You even use the same tactics, whether you knew you were doing it or not."

Miraveh's brow furrowed at that. Sialira talked of Yusuvur, that much Miraveh understood, but she doubted she shared anything with the elder Witch. In fact, Miraveh took great pains to avoid doing things how Yusuvur did them. Or, at least, she thought she did. That Miraveh used the same tactics, she didn't believe for a second. She had never known Yusuvur to compel anyone with magic. With words, for certain, but Miraveh had seen the elder Witch use magic only a few times since the power returned and never to make anyone do what she wanted.

"I want to make it up to you." She couldn't stay in one place. Pacing, she twisted the fingers of both hands together before shaking them loose. "How do I remove the spell? And then I need to learn how to control magic. This isn't the first time I've cast spells without thinking."

"It's simple enough." Sialira held up a hand, inviting Miraveh to take it. "Just concentrate. Imagine freeing me from shackles and force the magic to flow only for that purpose."

"And? After that?" She hesitated to take Sialira's hand, afraid of what unleashing her magic could do. "I don't like magic. I don't trust it. Even more so after what happened with the relic and ..."

"The first principle of magic is 'Acceptance'." As Miraveh didn't look about to take her hand, Sialira stood, reaching out to hold Miraveh's hand in her own. "Accept magic. Accept that it is a power beyond you that you take and forge into a tool. Accept that it is, and forever will be, a part of you, whether you like it or not."

Miraveh stared down at Sialira's tiny hand within hers. The Witch's hands were still soft, untouched by hard work. Miraveh's had changed. Back in Donsa, performing her laundry duties, her hands had become soft and dry. Now, callouses had returned to her fingers. Nails had become chipped and cracked, dirt lingering beneath the tips.

She had thought herself unchanged. Enduring as the girl she once was. That was a long time ago, now. Instead, she had become a woman that had seen far too much and understood far too little. Her body had changed, becoming lithe and muscular, taut and strong. Her mind had changed, becoming cold and distant, calculating and determined. She missed the girl she once was and could never be again.

For the first time since Miraveh had inadvertently used magic upon her, Sialira smiled at her. Strained, for certain, but with no animosity behind the smile. Miraveh could feel her heart beating, pounding against her chest, and she realised she feared losing Sialira as a friend. She had not noticed how much the girl had come to mean to her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

At first, she felt herself resisting her own actions, as though some part of her didn't want to allow the magic to flow, or, perhaps, did not want to remove the spell from Sialira. She had returned to suppressing her magic, cutting herself off from the source, whatever the source of magic was, but now she had to allow the energy its freedom. Not to sense something, but to use magic. It felt like a drunkard returning to the bottle after swearing never to drink again.

As though with a click of her fingers, Miraveh stopped suppressing her magic and the, now familiar, rush of feelings entered her. It was different, this time. She had a purpose in mind for the magic. A task. She thought about Sialira, imagined her in chains and, within her mind, she could see those chains. Chains of bright, vibrant purple energy. Her magic.

She felt a boundless love for it and an unending hatred of it. She could not find any middle ground in her feelings for it. With a casual thought, a purple, wriggling strand of magical energy entwined the shackles that bound Sialira and crushed them, the magical energy fading and turning into tiny falling stars before disappearing altogether. But Miraveh felt her task not fully done.

For some reason, she raised her eyes away from Sialira and looked out across the grasslands and saw a different world. She saw magic everywhere. It infused the trees and the grass and the rocks. It floated in the sky. The Sun was magic. The land was magic. Birds flying far above them were magic, as were the clouds that drifted along.

Sialira was magic. Intense, sharp green magic, held tight to her body like a piece of clothing. It pulsed and shuddered, as though trying to give itself room to breathe, but Sialira held it with her mind. That magic was hers and she would give it up for no-one.

Miraveh's magic, purple and bursting from every pore, felt vivacious and energetic. It rushed and curled around Miraveh, tugging at her skin and clothes and hair like a mischievous Pixie, unable to slow down. Unable to restrain itself. Miraveh was magic. Sialira was magic. The entire world was magic and Miraveh could not believe the world had carried on in any form after the Shade of Xirasir had removed magic from the world. She could see, now, why the gods wanted to walk upon Dred-al. It was magic in its purest form.

And, if she pushed, Miraveh could expand her sense of magic. To the north, she could see a beam of pure, golden light reaching up to the skies. A Pillar. Or, rather, the Candidate to replace a Pillar. If she tried, Miraveh felt certain she could look outwards and see every Candidate, every Seeker, every Witch and Karline, every dragon and elf and goblin. She could, if she tried, see everything.

What she felt was a stinging slap across the face and everything suddenly became dull and worthless, even herself. The world was no longer magic, it was only the world. Sialira wasn't magic, she was Sialira and she had a look of absolute horror upon her face. Miraveh found it difficult to concentrate, her mind becoming a fog, and she immediately suppressed her magic. It felt better, more simple, that way.

"What happened?" Her mouth dry, the words escaped in a rasping croak. She wrapped her arms about herself and blinked at the brightness of the light. "Is that what you see all the time? It's ... it's overwhelming. I can't ... I just ..."

"What I see? I don't see anything when I wield. What happened was your magic just exploded! It came out stronger than anything I've ... stronger than anyone I've ever met." Sialira guided Miraveh to the ground, eyes and hands flickering across Miraveh's face and body. "I couldn't shake you out of it. If I hadn't slapped you, every magic wielder for miles, in the world, would have felt it. It was remarkable."

"What in the name of the gods just happened?" From the grove of trees, Daras emerged, racing forward, Turotara not far behind. "That Hunter just almost collapsed in ecstasy in there. Kept repeating 'beautiful' over and over. Is she ... is she alright?"

Both Daras and Turotara joined Sialira at Miraveh's side, but she could hardly acknowledge them. She had felt something beyond anything she could describe. As she looked out across the grasslands, where she had seen the whole of magic in its purest form, she couldn't help but think she had awoken something best left asleep and buried.

Should the power she had felt become combined with the power of a relic, Miraveh doubted that anything would be beyond her capabilities and if that didn't scare everyone, she didn't know what would.