Page 18 of Sightwitch
Soldiers marched onto the craggy beach, as well as women and men not in uniform but clearly as well trained.
They intend to build something. I’m sure of it, for half the crew turned to clearing pines with axes and saws, while the other half unloaded tents and tools from their ships.
Two soldiers came too close to the falls. Close enough for the glamour’s magic to roll over them. But the spell did its job, as always, and they both turned away, confused.
LATER
The soldiers have made quick work, and their officer—an enormous man so pale that it’s as if all color has been leached out of him—is an Airwitch of some kind. He summons a wind to lift the fallen trees, and I have never seen anything like it.
The Airwitch captain makes people smile often, though he never does. I can’t help but wonder why.
I wish I could hear them. I wish I could join them.
Ryber Fortiza
Y18 D215 — 41 days since I became the last Sightwitch Sister
DREAMS
I dreamed of Tanzi again. She was shouting for me from behind the water. “Find me!” she cried. “Please, Ryber, before it is too late!”
Again, I tried to grab her, but as soon as my fingers touched water, pain shot through my hands and into my skull. So fierce, it woke me up.
Now I sit here in bed, sweating and breathing fast while the dawn birds chirrup outside as if nothing is wrong.
MEMORIES
I went to the Crypts for answers. The ghosts are lonely with no one to visit, so they cloyed and choked as soon as I passed through the chapel.
When the Sightwitch Sisters claim the memories of the dead for their Records, some memories tug free. Snippets of soul that don’t want to be scrawled down. Wisps of glowing light that twirl and ooze, they flitter for all eternity in the Crypts, waiting to help any Sisters who ask for it. You give them a word and off they careen, searching the endless array of records and volumes and documents for any appearance of that word.
There are so many of them, though, and they get so excited. This is why the Order of Two exists, for even with the Sight, the ghosts can quickly overwhelm the senses.
Leaving a lone sister lost.
But Ihaveto understand my dreams, and the best place for answers—the best place in all the Witchlands—is the Crypts.
Besides, the Order isn’t an official Rule of the Convent. It’s just a guideline.
Look at you, said a voice in the back of my mind as I stood at the threshold from chapel into the Crypts.Breaking the Order of Two. What wild rebellion will you commit next?
“Hush,” I ordered the voice. It sounded a little too much like Tanzi, and I didn’t need this hot wave of guilt building in my belly. Shoving it aside, I strode through the door.
Where the ghosts promptly swarmed. Their cold whispers took root in my mind, growing and pressing down. Slippery, wordless voices. It felt as if I’d dived underwater. My lungs started to cave and my ears to pop.
Thank the Sleeper I like being underwater, though. Diving with cave salamanders has always been fun to me—though Tanzi thinks it miserable. She rarely joined me in the cold pools beneath the Convent.
She rarely went into the Crypts with me either.
Eventually, when the ghosts grew tired of swishing and swiping against me, I was able to suck in a breath. Able to get my bearings.
I stood on the balcony that overlooks the topmost level of the Crypts. Level 1 is like all the levels below it. (Well, at least until Level 5. I’ve never been below that, so I can only assume they look the same.)
Row upon row of packed stone shelves spanned the roughly hewn cavern. Far, far in the shadows at the other end, a staircase spiraled into the stone and led to a new level, a new balcony.
I picked my way down the ancient steps to Level 1, wishing all the while that my eyes would adjust faster to the dim Firewitched light of the Crypts. Though hundreds of sconces line the walls, most of the spells faded years, perhaps even centuries, ago. Now there is more shadow than light.
And of course, more ghosts than people.
