Page 90 of Witch's Fate

“It does look better,” Aleia said from beside her.

“Yeah, much.” Inara’s voice sounded as exhausted as Sofia felt.

Sofia glanced around at the main street. At least there were no more bodies amongst the debris. Their dead—over a dozen in all—had been sent to their afterworlds. The afternoon had been a time of mourning and goodbye. Though the loss of her people—of Malcolm—stabbed her like a dagger through the heart, they’d been lucky. As bad as whatthe High Witches had thrown at them, that hadn’t been the death blow.

Losing only fourteen wasn’t so bad.

Except that they were her friends. Other Mytheans’ loved ones.

Like Malcolm.

She tried to force the thoughts away. There was so much left to do that she couldn’t collapse. She had to focus on the good. Only fourteen. It was terrible to thinkonlyin front of that number, but she’d been a Mythean long enough to know the nature of their world. They’d have lost more if the university hadn’t sent healers. The gravely wounded were too many for Cata, the healer of Bruxa’s Eye, to handle. Sofia had been able to lend a hand, as had others, but they’d needed more.

The university had stepped up and she’d been grateful. As the healers had swept through town in their white cloaks—so different from the white cloaks that the High Witches wore—she’d realized that they were going to recover.

“We’ll rebuild,” Sofia said. “Though I want the building that was destroyed turned into a park. A memorial.” Her throat burned at the thought, tears trying to escape.

Aleia squeezed her shoulder. “That’s a great idea.”

Sofia nodded. They could move the three-story bar that had been there before. The village had loved it, but they’d understand.

“And I think we should loot the High Witch’s afterworld.” Vindictiveness seethed pleasantly in her belly. Thinking of it pushed away the hurt. “We’ll take back every tribute I ever gave them, every piece of gold, then burn the place to the ground.”

“Thatis an excellent idea,” Inara said.

Sofia nodded. If she were going to keep it together, she had to focus on duty and vengeance. Duty had to be done, but vengeance would keep her spirit from sinking into oblivion.

They reached Aleia’s apartment over the apothecary and stopped in front of it

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay over? Inara’s in the second bedroom, but my bed is big enough to share,” Aleia said.

Sofia shook her head. Though it was tempting, she wanted to force herself back into normal life as soon as possible. Malcolm had only been back in her life for less than a week. So short a time. She could get over that if she tried.

“No, but thanks,” she said. “Kitty and I are headed back to mine to check it out.”

“All right. I’ll see you in the morning. The rebuilding won’t be so bad.”

Sofia glanced down the street towards the wharf. A whole row of buildings had been destroyed by the waterspout. Piles of timber and debris stood along the front of the river.

If Aurora and Esha hadn’t been here to help, would all the buildings have been destroyed?

Probably.

Grateful. Be grateful.It could have been worse.

But the worst did happen,part of her whispered.

To her, yes. Losing Malcolm had been the worst thing that could have happened to her. Worse than her own death, even, because feeling like this wasn’t something she wanted to live through.

But she had more than her own problems to worry about. For over four hundred years, she’d been the Protector of Bruxa’s Eye. Just because the High Witches were dead didn’t mean she could throw away that mantle so quickly. She had to be grateful that more of her village hadn’t been destroyed, that more lives hadn’t been lost.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Sofia said.

“Yeah.” Aleia started to close the door.

“Hey, wait,” Sofia said. “Your premonition of my death—was it me on the roof with the witches?”

Aleia nodded. “I guess so. I didn’t see much detail. Malcolm must have saved you from it.”

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