Page 17 of The Blood Witch
Prek looks a little astonished by my offer too, but quickly gets a hold of himself. “Readings, or any kind of prophesying, is considered very sacred, and it isn’t usually offered so...um...freely,” he supplies, and my cheeks warm with embarrassment and confusion.
I feel like I’ve just committed some kind of witch faux pas, one that makes no sense to me. My Grammy Ruby talked about the bones and what they could do as though it was a gift the world needed and deserved. It was constantly hammered into me that it was our responsibility as Osteomancers to serve anyone the bones chose.
“I’ve watched my grandmother read strangers and friends alike with no reservations or need for anything more than a hug and a warm smile,” I tell him, not sure if I’m defending myself or offering reassurance.
“I’ve heard that about her, but it was very much the exception and not the rule when it comes to that offshoot of magic,” Prek answers, and I’m flummoxed by that revelation.
I look from Prek to Preach and back again. “Then how do the others work? Do they not follow where the bones lead?”
Prek shrugs. “I don’t know. I know what Osteomancers do in theory, but I’ve never seen one in action,” he confesses, his eyes leaving mine to diligently scan our surroundings.
Rogan’s voice fills my mind, and I’m lost in its depths for a moment.There are four Osteomancers on the northern continent—know how many of them are missing? All of them except you.
I wade through his words a couple more times before surfacing back to reality. I knew that number before. That when it comes to bone magic, there aren’t many wielders, but I never really got what that meant in comparison to the rest of the witch race until now. I look around me, at the towers of Order buildings reaching up to the sky like raised hands ready to worship. There are thousands of witches buzzing around just these buildings alone, most of them Circummancers who control one or more of the elements. The disparity between the lines of magic is staggering, and I had no comprehension of just how much until I came here.
I scratch at my arm in an effort to relieve an itch, and then realize what the presence of that itch means. I look up at each of my guards, but once again the feeling doesn’t select any of them.
“Well, you may not want me to read for any of you, but I’m pretty sure you’re about to witness one,” I announce as I search the people around me.
My probing gaze lands on a woman with a wistful look on her face as she stands and watches a dog bring a bone back to its owner. I take a deep breath and study her, confirming with the bones that she’s the one. I feel the pouch heat against my leg, and I ready myself.
“I know you guys aren’t allowed to go too far from me, but readings can be incredibly intimate, so please honor that as much as you can,” I advise my surrounding wardens. “That is, if she even wants one anyway. Ask Rogan about the poor mom I accidentally pushed over the edge, if you want a good laugh sometime,” I add, and then I make my way over to the woman who’s now smiling as she watches the dog fetch the bone and wag its way back to its person.
I do my best to dismiss the twinge of anxiety I feel as I close the distance to this woman the bones have chosen. So far, the consensus here seems to be that me randomly offering to do what I do is met with shock and suspicion. I expect that reaction more out in the world of humans, with their varied beliefs and understandings of how the world works, but amongst witches, I didn’t anticipate being rejected as much as I have been so far, first with Rogan and just now with Preach. I get their immediate hesitancy, as it’s not something that’s typically offered so freely and with no strings attached, but you’d think once they got past the initial shock of the offer, they’d be even more on board for those exact same reasons.
As my surrounding horde—dressed head to toe in black—approaches, the woman immediately notices and stiffens. She moves to stand at attention, offering Prek a stiff salute as he stalks closer. She’s dressed in a less intense version of the uniform my guards are wearing, and if I had to guess, I would say she’s a sentry somewhere around here.
“Captain,” she barks out in greeting as we stop in front of her.
“At ease,” Prek commands, and she relaxes a bit, dropping her salute and spreading her stance, but I can see her trying to work out why we’ve approached her.
“This is Osteomancer Osseous,” Prek introduces, and she nods at me in greeting. “She has selected you for a reading. Would you like to commence with that here or somewhere more private?” he no-nonsense snaps at her, and she balks, clearly dumbfounded by the odd command.
I step in front of him, ignoring the warning growl he gives me as I do. I shoot Prek afuck off with thatglare and plaster a sweetno need to runsmile on my face for the woman.
“What the captainmeantto say is thatifyou would like a reading, I would be happy to offer you one. You don’t haveto though, there’s no pressure. My bones chose you, but you’re under absolutely no obligation to say yes. I won’t be offended either way,” I tell her, hoping it smoothes over what just happened. I shoot Prek another glare over my shoulder for good measure.
The sentry stares at me for a beat, shock swimming in her hazel eyes, which are bouncing from me to the dozen guards all around me and back again. “You...you want to spill your bones forme?” she hedges, looking around as though she expects this to be some kind of setup.
“Only if you want,” I offer, trying to drown the uncertainty in my voice with warmth and kindness.
“Uh, okay,” she agrees with a small shrug, still looking around as though she expects someone to jump from the bushes and shoutgotcha!
“Really?” I squeak, half in shock and half in excitement. I clear my throat, hitting my chest with a closed fist. “I mean, excellent. Where would you feel comfortable getting a reading?”
We both look around at my question, and as though the fates are looking down on us with a warm smile, a group of witches stands up, abandoning a shade-drenched picnic table.
“How about there?” the witch wisely chooses, and I nod and gesture for her to lead the way.
Prek steps back in front of me with a look, and I concede to being ushered behind the woman, like a toddler who can’t be trusted to its own devices. I sigh quietly and release a silent plea that all of this need for protection will be over soon. Then I square my shoulders and get my head in the game.
I’m on the cusp of my second live reading, and I can only hope that I’ll be able to channel whatever it is that she needs to know.
Ready or not...here I come.
6
“I’m Colby,” the witch introduces, extending her hand to me as we shuffle to opposite sides of the picnic bench and move to have a seat.
