Page 3 of Witchsea

She only hums in agreement. I go into the entrance hall, where Mistress Nadine’s oldest son is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Wyatt Stone. He is waiting for me. Just great. His blond hair is bright like sunlight, and he’s so clean. Well, clean compared to me. His cheekbones rise as he flashes me a pretty smile that matches his pretty eyes. His suit is the darkest blue, tailored to his slim, muscular body. “Miry, you’re looking busy this morning… I missed you.”

No, he didn’t just say that. “You didn’t, and I’ve got work to do, Wyatt.”

I walk straight past him, but he reaches out and grabs my arm softly, intimately pulling me against his side. I arch my neck to look up at him because he is taller than me. Three months ago, I made a really stupid decision on my twentieth birthday. I wanted to know what it was like to be with someone, and I chose him. He’s pretty, clean, and I just wanted a taste of what the life is like here, and it wasn’t bad. In fact, it was addictive. He was, or at least the feeling was. But when it was over and all was said and done, he went off to college in the North like most noble men do. I went back to scrubbing his family house clean. That’s how it should be. I wanted to learn what it was like, and I didn’t get pregnant, which is a miracle, and I’d almost forgotten about him until now. I hiss at his pretty face. “Wyatt, let go before someone sees. You’ll get me sent to the whorehouse.”

He lets me go instantly. There is a law against us sleeping with nobles, and he and I both know it. We aren’t married and he can’t marry a commoner from the Stilts when he is a noble heir. “Can we talk?”

“Look.” I lower my voice. His parents might be around, or even worse, his younger sister, who would throw me to the king’s guards in a heartbeat. His sister is the same age as me, and Wyatt is only two years older than me. “It was just one night, and it was great. I’m not saying it wasn’t, but we’re from completely different lives. I’m not interested in a round two that could destroy my life. So, let me work. You go back to whatever you do, and that’s it.”

He leans in and I narrow my eyes at him. “I can make you interested in round two. I know exactly what you like, after all, and I’d never let anything happen to you.”

Such a liar. A charmer. “I’m definitely not interested, Wyatt.”

“If you change your mind, I’m here for a few days for the map,” he offers as I walk away, feeling his eyes watching me.

I clean the house from bottom to top until my hands are sore, and I purposely leave his sister’s room until last. She’s not in here in the afternoons, and I need to make sure everything is ready for tomorrow. I go to her wardrobe and double-check the things I’ve hidden in there. A potion poured onto a rag, which will knock her out for a day at least. Long enough for me to take her place and her ticket to the map ceremony in the morning. I’ll only need to wear her clothes, and she’s similar in size to me, close enough that I can tighten them and pull a cloak over me. It has to work. I glance out of the window to the castle, to the massive glittering silver courtyard right in front of it, where tomorrow the invited will turn up to wait for the map to appear.

A mortal got the map five hundred years ago, and he made himself king, got magic and became beloved by nearly everybody as he made this world better. Well, that’s what the rich say; it’s what they sing about in the streets and joyfully tell the world…but where I grew up, the whispers about our long-living king are not beloved. They sing of the misery, of the corruption and the control. They beg for a change.

A wish can change my life, and it can save Rowe. I’m determined to do anything, even kill, to get that map.

Chapter

Two

“Promise me you won’t cry when I tell you this.” Rowe looks up at me, bundled under thick furs as the wind blows his dark locks across his forehead. He looks like our father, the same jawline and nose. Looking at Rowe sometimes makes me feel like I’m looking right at our father, listening to his singing as he cooked. He was such an amazing cook.

I stretch my legs out on the end of the stilts, my feet nearly touching the water but not quite. The sea is covered in sheets of thin, broken ice, and it smacks against the wooden pillar right under where we sit. I’ve always thought the water looks more green than blue, and there’s nothing, nothing else other than ice for miles.

Rowe’s gaze has returned to watching the horizon like a bird watching grass for the moment a mouse runs across. I memorize every bit of my little brother. Like it’s the last time I’m going to see him. It’s silly because it’s definitely not.

“Why would I cry?” he asks, still not looking at me. He doesn’t take his eyes off the sky for a minute as he waits for the sun to rise, for it to crest over the edge of the horizon where it always appears, before it sets somewhere else. Orange light is beginning to dance across the sky now, like a god is flicking a paintbrush.

“I might have found you a cure,” I softly begin my practiced speech. It still doesn’t feel like enough. “But I have to go and get it. On a ship. It’s all planned and I’m leaving this morning. I’ll be back in three months, and I didn’t tell you until now because I didn’t want you to worry or get upset.”

He looks right at me. “No.” He sharply turns away, his shoulders shaking as he silently cries.

Such a simple word, but the sob in his throat makes my heart feel like collapsing into my stomach. I touch his chin and turn him to me; he feels warm but not feverish. His tears are hot against my hand. Some blessings of the medicine working, at least for now, but they won’t stop his heart hurting. “You are everything to me, Rowe. You’re all the family I have left in this world, and I’m going to save you. I will get this cure, and I will bring it back. I will be absolutely fine and so will you. When you’re better, we are going to leave this place for good and have a great life, traveling and exploring. Lou’s going to look after you, and she’s going to move in while I’m gone. She’s got enough gold to keep you well fed and for your medicines. You’re a smart boy and I know you will be strong for me.”

He’s already crying, great big sobs that cut through me. Each one cracks my heart, and I hold him to me, letting him feel everything. Letting him feel safe with me just for a moment longer.

When his sobs slow down and his breathing is a little more calm, he sits a little straighter and says, “To look after you,” as he pulls out a necklace from around his neck, tugging it off and handing it to me. It’s brass, made to look like gold, a simple heart-shaped locket with a symbol for Noctaris on the inside. It’s the one thing that neither of us could sell because it’s damaged and worthless outside of our family. It should stay with him, but I can’t find it in myself to reject the necklace as he slips it into my hand. It’s the last piece of anything that we have from our parents. “Take it with you for good luck. If you’re gonna go, I don’t… I know I can’t tell you not to. I’ll be okay even if I will miss you. If—if you don’t manage to find this cure…don’t come back here.”

“What?” I search his eyes.

“I don’t want you to see me die. Don’t come back… You should have a life, because I love you too.” His lower lip is trembling as he tries not to cry, and he leans his head on my shoulder. “You’ve always looked after me, and I want you to have someone to look after you, too.”

Sometimes I wonder when he got so strong. I have to take a deep breath to hold back my emotions so I can reassure him. “Rowe, looking after you is my honor. Being your sister is one too, and I will always come back. It’s just three months.”

Rowe nods once. “Three months,” he sadly agrees, and he can’t hide how his voice hitches.

“As for Lou, she loved our mother. I trust her, but be careful, okay?” I kiss the top of his head.

“Okay.” He bursts into tears again, and I hold him to me again as the sun rises above the horizon, and the day everything changes begins. The sky is beautiful. For a moment, we both just stare at the vibrant shades of orange, yellow and even pink. I feel hot tears running down my cheeks, but I refuse to cry. I can’t cry in front of him like this. This is a chance. It’s more than I’ve ever had in my entire life to save him.

“Let’s get you back.” We stand and I gently make sure he’s bundled so he’ll stay warm. We walk slowly back to our hut, and I match his pace, hearing how breathless he gets after we pass a few houses. I know that he’s treasuring every second with me as much as it’s hard for him to continue to walk. When we get to the door, I’m not surprised to find Lou there waiting for us, a knowing look in her eyes.

She offers Rowe her hand. “Come on, boy. I’ll make you a nice hot lavender water.”