Page 60 of Morning's Light

“So you’re saying you weren’t wearing the amulet,” Astix clarified.

“Yeah. I forgot. Okay?”

Glass clinked when Astix replaced the bottle with trembling hands. “Wear it against your skin. I mean it.”

“An amulet might slow her down, but it’s probably not enough to stop her. We need more. Does anyone have any ideas?” Karsia asked.

Astix chewed on her thumbnail, then removed her thumb from her mouth and gestured. “I’ve been trying to do some research on my own. Needless to say, the clues we’ve been given are kind of vague, and the oldest books I have date back to the sixteenth century. Way after magic entered our world for the first time. I need to go back farther and I can’t do it without a massive spell. I’ve never been good enough at casting. No practice.”

“What are you hoping to find?”

“A way to detect the Harbinger witch,” Astix stated definitively. “I think finding him or her will be our best bet to stopping whatever is going to happen.”

Aisanna shook her head. “We’re wasting our time. The Harbinger will come when the time is right.” If she hasn’t already. Here’s looking at you, sis. “We need to concentrate our efforts on keeping Darkness at bay until then.”

“Are you crazy? We don’t have the juice to take her on. No,” Astix interrupted before Karsia could say anything. “No matter how many times we say it, it’s not true. We’re blips on her radar. We’re talking about a person—at least, she was once—who has been sandwiched between two planes of existence for thousands of years, give or take. We might be witches from a long lineage, but that’s it! Don’t you get it? If we can’t stop her, then it only makes sense to find the one person who can.”

“The one person who is destined to stop her,” Karsia said, and added on a breath: “The Harbinger.”

Aisanna balled her hands into fists. “I hate the idea of sitting around waiting for someone else to swoop in and save the day.”

“Actually, I might have an idea.” Karsia paused, nibbling the inside of her cheek.

“Are you kidding?”

“I’ve been working on the script, the symbols branded on your chest and arm.”

Aisanna’s arms flew into the air. “I feel like an asshole. Has everyone been doing research but me?”

Astix shrugged. “You were never one for the books. We have our strengths and weaknesses. Accept yours and move on.”

“Anyway, there aren’t a lot of old texts available about Cyrillic, but I managed to find a few websites that looked promising.” Karsia took her cell phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, flipping through her screens until she found the right one. “There’s this academic website. Carthage College in Wisconsin.”

Astix crossed and uncrossed her legs and tried to get settled. “A college?”

“There’s a professor of medieval culture and mythology,” Karsia said as she scrolled down to find the name. “He seems to have some interesting theories linking Cyrillic script with lore from the Dark Ages.”

Aisanna was skeptical. “It seems a bit of a stretch. Isn’t Cyrillic script Eurasian? I know that much. What makes you think this dude’s theories pertain to this situation?”

“This professor has done a lot of research on medieval languages. I could only make out a few words of your brand before I got pulled into some of his other articles. I think it’s related somehow.”

Instead of telling Karsia she was way off base, Astix hesitated. Her brows drew together. “Go on.”

“I guess he was first on site for some kind of archeological dig. There was a stone tablet uncovered, written in multiple languages, Cyrillic among them. He translated it, and apparently the tablet documented a war. Pure chaos coming into the High Middle Ages. Dark shit,” she clarified. “The Byzantine Empire under the Macedonian dynasty was engaged in a long war with the First Bulgarian Empire. By all accounts, it was a time of unrestrained power. Not just battles but intrigue. Torture. Murder.” She paused for effect. “Sound familiar?”

“The veil,” Aisanna put in.

“Maybe. Maybe not. His translation goes into detail about this apocalyptic event that seemed to put an end to the chaos. He seems to be some kind of genius. Philology,” she burst out, snapping her fingers. “That’s what it was. Philology is the study of written and oral historical languages.”

“I don’t see how this is going to help us.” Aisanna was intrigued by the idea though she didn’t see its merit. Beyond that, she wanted to be the one to find the answers. She needed to be, for her own sanity. “Or how to banish this bitch. Her being sadistic and ancient only means we need to work faster.”

“Look, I found some of the script and this man’s name came up. Which speaks volumes, if you ask me,” Karsia said, frustrated. “Do you want to hear about it or not?”

Astix and Aisanna looked at each other, then back to Karsia. “Keep talking.”

“Okay, let me see if I can put this in a way you’ll understand.” Karsia set down her phone and used her hands to make a picture for them, as if putting the pieces together in midair. “There’s this medieval leader and his wife. They tried to find a way to stem the tide of raw energy. To find a way to stop what they thought was causing chaos among their people. Got it? They mysteriously disappeared, and people could only speculate what happened. They said the man and the woman became gods. Good and evil, light and dark, perpetual balance. Always at war with each other. Then the Middle Ages came to an end and the tale was forgotten.”

Her soft voice wove a melody as she told her story. In Karsia’s mind, she saw everything, the raw magic, the chaos, the people standing in the presence of something with the power to change fate.

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