Page 19 of Sightwitch
At the foot of the stairs, they awaited my command. I’d never done this by myself before, and it took me a moment to gird myself. To make sure I was ready to follow wherever they led. At last, I puffed up my chest and declared, “Show me all Records on Sightwitch dreams!”
I realized almost instantly, as my words passed from ghost to ghost, rustling outward, that I’d made a mistake.
I had broken Rule 9.
In my defense, I normally excel at using proper, precise language. But dreams were new for me. As was navigating the Crypts alone.
And now it was too late to stop the ghosts from running wild.
Off they went, dragging me with them. They shoved and guided, towed and chanted, “Dreams, dreams, dreams.” They swept me from one record to the next. Hide-bound, wood-bound, parchment, cloth—hundredsof Memory Records. Any and all that mentioned the word “dreams” they led me to.
I withdrew no tomes from the shelves. I could barely remain standing. The ghosts were a tempest of cold and strength and loneliness.
It was a feeling I knew all too well. I didn’t need more of it to scrabble over my skin or grapple down my throat.
Yet there was no escaping that hollow cold, nor breaking out of the ghosts’ frantic pull. Until eventually, we reached the end of Level 5, and here, they all stopped at the dark mouth of a doorway that led farther into the mountain. The deeper levels of the Crypts.
Beyond were steps. Beyond were older ghosts. Beyond were dangers that Serving Sisters could not face without the Sight.
Yet beyond, there might also be answers …
Panting from all the running, yet also shivering from all the ghosts, I gaped at the shadowy doorway, my feet nailed to the floor.
I wanted to descend. Of course I did. I had been alone for forty-one days, and I wanted Tanzi back. I wantedallthe Sisters back—especially if my dreams might actually mean something.
You have already broken the Order of Two,said the voice like Tanzi’s. You might as well break Rule 16 and go below Level 5. No one will know you did it, Rybie-Ry.
“No one except Sirmaya,” I muttered.
Sure, but what good has following the Rules done so far? You’re stuck up here, and we’re all stuck down there. Besides, I still don’t think the Rules are even real.
Such a compelling argument from my imaginary Threadsister.
I leaned toward the doorway. The ghosts gusted up. My left foot lifted. The ghosts swirled and nudged. They wanted me to keep going. They wanted me to see what waited beyond—
A shriek crashed through the Crypts behind me.
I reeled about, grabbing for my knife. Someone was with me, someone was coming for me. Danger in the Crypts!
But it was just the Rook, tangled with ghosts. Lots of them. His heat and life must have lured them close, and no matter how hard he flapped his wings, they only clustered tighter.
Curse that bird. He had scared me. So badly I had to stand there for several ragged breaths, hand to my throat as I waited for my pulse to slow.
And curse that bird again because now the ghosts were too addled to be helpful.
I would have to return another time.
Eridysi Gochienka
Y2786 D134
MEMORIES—
Since yesterday, Nadya has been angling for Lisbet and Cora to be my charges. The last three meals, she has placed them directly beside me and murmured things like, “Lisbet reminds me so much of you” and “It is lovely to see how much Cora makes you smile.”
Or, more pointedly, “You haven’t taken on any new girls in almost two years, Dysi. ’Tis time.”
It is tempting. Cora was so sweet at the morning meal today, growing bolder with each hour she is here. And, oh, how infectious her laugh is. Meanwhile, Lisbet is sharp as a Sightwitch key. Question after question she plies at me.
