Page 50 of Sightwitch
“A blade for killing them.”
Gooseflesh prickled down my arms. I did not question for a moment that what she commanded did indeed need doing. Her words were not those of a child but of ancient, all-knowing truth.
However, I did ask, “Why, Lisbet? What have you seen?”
“I saw the last Sightwitch Sister go into the mountain. In a thousand years, she will pass through the halls with a Paladin at her side. We must prepare a path for her, Dysi, and we must get everything ready so she will not be lost.”
“A thousand years.” The words tasted like fire. They seemed to dry my throat just from the uttering.
Yes, Sightwitches lived in the future, but never—never—had I heard of a Sightwitch seeing so far ahead.
The chill bumps on my arms spread to my neck. “Why must we do it now, Lisbet? Why not ten years from now?”
“Because,” she said, a sudden smile flashing over her face—so at odds with the words that came next—“none of us will be here in ten years, Dysi.” She slid her hand into mine, and added, “Can we go see Cora now, please? Her throat should be all better, and she’s been asking for us.”
3(?) hours left to find Tanzi—
Having company made the journey much better.
There.
I wrote it because it’s true: having company made the journey better.
Yes, I was worried about Tanzi and the Sisters. Yes, I was trying to keep track of time’s passage as best I could. And yes, I constantly had to hurry Captain along. But it was nice not to be alone.
Captain was fascinated by everything. He asked a thousand questions, like some newly arrived Serving Sister to the Convent.
In fact, just as I had with many a new Sister, I had to explain who the Sightwitches were, what our mission was, and why I was inside the mountain at all.
I told him everything. About our benevolent Goddess Sirmaya, about the Rules and the glamour, about how I had been the only Sister left. I told him that, despite thirteen years here, I’d never been Summoned inside the mountain.
He was so easy to talk to, and for a man with an injured chest and no memories, he was a surprisingly good listener. His sympathetic grunts and occasional oaths sounded genuine, and the sudden snow that fluttered around us made me think he truly felt my plight.
“How do you speak Nubrevnan so well?” he asked at one point as we tromped down a square stairwell marked on the map as simplyThe Way Belowand with a little34scribbled next to it.
Thank the Sleeper there were Firewitched lanterns to light our way since I’d lost my own when I’d lost the pack. They winked into power without any command. We would reach ten paces away andwhoof!the next lantern would flash to life.
“We learn all the languages of the Witchlands,” I explained. Step, step, step. “We begin by learning songs, so that the melodies help stick new syllables and sounds into our minds.”
“Let me guess. You started with ‘The Maidens North of Lovats.’”
“It was the third song, actually.” I glanced back, impressed. “How did you guess?”
“Because ‘blighter’ isn’t a real word—and you’ve used it twice now.”
“Not a real word? Then why is it in the song?”
“I don’t know. For rhythm’s sake, perhaps?” And then, absolutely unbidden, he splayed a graceful hand to his chest—the unharmed part—and began to sing. “The Maidens north of Lovats, none ever looked so fair—”
“No!” I swung around, palms rising. “No singing! Who knows what creatures are in here that you might wake up?”
Captain’s face sank. Then he turned to the Rook, who’d been riding on his massive shoulder this whole time. “I wasn’t that loud, was I, Rook?Ow.” He swatted the bird off his shoulder. “He bit me!”
“Of course he did.” I fought to keep my face set firmly in a frown. “His name istheRook, not just Rook.”
“The ‘the’ is that important, is it?” He rubbed at his ear and pouted like a sullen child the size of a tree trunk. Even his wrists and ears were enormous.
When the air around us warmed with a charged heat, a delight sifted through me. Captain was finding his magic again. It was only a matter of time before he remembered how to use it.
