Page 67 of The Witch and His Crow

‘That we have. Although I think sharing a favourite colour or food would’ve been better,’ Arwyn replied.

‘Yeah, I guess that would’ve been a little less morbid.’

Another rumble of thunder sounded, and I felt my skin prickle. Now wasn’t the time to reveal my hatred of storms to Arwyn, although I got the impression that we were beyond hiding our truths from one another. But storms always took me back tothatnight. The night Witch Hunters broke into my home and slaughtered my family.

‘Can I ask you something, Hector?’ Arwyn spun to face me so we were once again sitting inches before each other. The move forced my hands to fall, and I found them feeling odd withoutsomething to touch. Offering Arwyn comfort with words was still not my speciality, but touch came more natural to me.

‘Yes,’ I replied, unable to find another word. That singular answer portrayed more power than a speech could. ‘Should I be worried about what you want to know?’

Arwyn shook his head, bright eyes never leaving me. ‘Where did you go? I mean, when your parents were killed. We all know your story, we all know the speculations and whispers surrounding what happened to you. But the one fact all witches agree on, was you were at that house when the Witch Hunters came. Except they didn’t find you, nor did the witches who came to retrieve you.’

I was sobering up, quickly. Just peaking back through the window of time, to that night, was powerful enough to clear my body and soul of the mead. ‘Tell me what you think, and I will say if you’re right or wrong.’

‘Well,’ Arwyn said, refusing to look anywhere else but me. ‘I think they got you out. You and your… familiar. Now I’ve had the pleasure of spending some quality time with Caym, I understand how you survived for so long alone.’

Alone. The word felt like a punch.

‘Caym has served as my protector since that night. It was my mother’s last gift to me, a familiar. Without it, I don’t think I’d have made it this far, let alone survived that night. But to answer your question, no, I didn’t run.’

Arwyn’s expression faltered, as though a mask had dropped for a moment, revealing the horror beneath. He did well to re-erect it. ‘If you didn’t run then…”

‘I was there, that night.’ The echo of old screams bounced around my skull. There was no ignoring Hector’s horrified reaction, how his eyes widened and his hands balled into fists. ‘Caym can hide me in the shadows, conceal me from prying eyes, which is actually what he did. I couldn’t see what the WitchHunters were doing to my parents, but I could hear it. Every. Fucking. Sound.’

Thud. Thud. Thud.

For the second time that night, the tears began to fall. And again, I refused to clear them. I just stared at the ground between us, frozen to the core, as my body felt as helpless as it had all those years ago.

‘You…were in the room?’

‘In a manner of speaking, yes. I heard the door break open, the footsteps and shouts’Thud, thud, thud.‘My parents pleading. Father Tomin… his voice is still loud in my head. Then I heard the athame enter my mother’s body over and over. I heard her last breath. Everything. Every sound, every word, every noise that might not have been important. And it haunts me, even now. And it will until I rid the world of Father Tomin and every Witch Hunter who is blind enough to follow him.’

Arwyn was speechless, his eyes unblinking as he looked at me. ‘I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. That must’ve been hell.’

‘It was,’ I said, teeth gritted together so tight my jaw ached. ‘But don’t pity me. Pity the person who took that knife and killed my parents. Pity Tomin when I repay the favour.’

‘I do,’ Arwyn said softly, laying a hand on mine. I didn’t know I was shaking until he did. ‘I pity them.’

The storm was above us. Thunder boomed, followed by a cascade of lightning. Rain slammed into the stable, like the hammering of fists against wood. Even beneath all the noise, I could hear some drip inside, soaking the straw-coated floor into a damp puddle.

‘We should try and sleep,’ Arwyn said, his entire demeanour hardening before me. ‘Tomorrow we need to leave. Try and figure out how to end this trial, preferably alive.’

Between the storm and the memory, I hardly imagined sleep would be possible. But I nodded, glad the conversation came to an abrupt end. Hugging my arms around myself, I watched Arwyn take spare blankets and lay them out across the ground. He then beckoned me over. ‘This will do.’

‘One bed?’ I asked.

‘More like one blanket. Big spoon or little?’

‘You’ve got to be joking,’ I laughed through the tears, clearing them with the back of my hand. ‘Do Ilooklike a big spoon?’

Arwyn shook his head, hand still outstretched for me. ‘Little spoon then. Come on.’

I would’ve refused him, but the clash of lightning and boom of thunder had me springing to my feet. Just from the look Arwyn gave me, I knew he had discovered my fear. My body was shaking by the time I laid on the blanket, his body draped behind me.

I was both comfortable and uncomfortable. I couldn’t help myself but to add one last sarcastic comment to shift the strangeness of the situation. ‘No funny business, okay?’

Arwyn’s warm breath was pleasant as it brushed against the back of my neck. Although the air was cold and damp because of the storm, having his strong arm over my side and his chest pressed to my spine certainly eased the discomfort.

‘Wouldn’t dream of ithere.’

---