Katherine’s head throbbed before she became aware of the soft restraints securing her wrists. As she instinctively tried to reach up and touch her forehead, the strap tugged—reminding her she wasn’t free to move.

  “Good, you’re awake,” Lira said, her voice familiar but tinged with relief. She was sitting on a stool beside the bed, watching Katherine closely. “I have a few questions for you.”

  Confusion and a trace of panic flared in Katherine’s chest. She glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar room before meeting Lira’s calm gaze. “I have a few questions myself,” Katherine replied, her voice dry but steady. “First two: where is Shade, and why am I tied to this bed?”

  Lira closed the book she’d been reading and set it carefully in her lap, her movements precise. “Shade is right here,” she reassured, nodding toward the shadowy figure curled protectively at the foot of the bed. “I thought it best to keep him close in case you woke in a less-than-ideal state. He gets defensive when you’re threatened, and I didn’t want him to hurt anyone—he can walk through shadows, after all. As for the restraints, they’re just to keep you from hitting me when you woke up.” Lira’s tone was gentle but matter of fact, as if she’d done this before.

  Katherine flexed her fingers against the cuffs, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Are you still seeing her?” Lira asked, her clinical calm softening just a little.

  “Her?” Katherine echoed, her brow furrowed.

  “My patron,” Lira clarified, her expression shifting to something more vulnerable. “It’s rare for anyone to see her without a ritual.”

  Realization dawned on Katherine, and she struggled to sit up. “The plague doctor—that was your patron?”

  Lira hesitated, considering the words. “I’m not sure what a ‘plague doctor’ is, but if you’re describing her appearance, then yes.” She kept her voice measured, perhaps to steady herself as much as Katherine. “Patrons for witchcraft are often... otherworldly. Eldritch beings, really. Most people can’t even comprehend what they look like—it drives them mad. My patron is gentler than most. She usually only reveals herself to coven members, and even then, it takes a ritual for us to see or speak with her.”

  “Then why can I see her?” Katherine pressed, her anxiety mounting as she tried to make sense of her experience.

  Lira took a breath, counting on her fingers as she explained. “Three possibilities come to mind. First, you’ve met a member of my coven and have been initiated. But since you’ve only been in the city for a few days, that’s unlikely. Second, you may have gained a skill that lets you see disembodied souls—possible, but not common. The last option…” She paused, her gaze steady. “You’ve died at least once.”

  Katherine shifted under Lira’s steady gaze, looking uncomfortable. Lira leaned forward, her tone gentle but insistent. “You did, didn’t you?” she asked, searching Katherine’s face for confirmation.

  Katherine let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly as if a burden was being lifted. “I just wanted it to stop—the screams, the constant sense of threat around every corner.” She paused, her voice growing quieter. “I would examine every room, always calculating escape routes in case something went wrong—and that was just the tip of what went on in my head.”

  Lira studied her, sympathy flickering in her eyes. “I’ve been assuming you were a warrior,” she said quietly, trying not to push too hard. “Or at least, you used to be. The scars kind of give it away.”

  Katherine nodded, taking another deep breath to steady herself. “At first, it wasn’t so bad,” she admitted, voice rough. “I was in a branch of my country’s military—what we called the Marines. My job was a motor transport technician.” She hesitated, noticing Lira’s puzzled expression. “It’s a part of our armed forces. Think of it as soldiers who specialize in moving supplies and people using big, non-magical vehicles—sort of like your artifice, but without magic.”

  Seeing Lira’s curiosity, Katherine continued, “Do you have something similar here? Like craftsmen who build things that use magic to make life easier?”

  Lira nodded, a faint smile crossing her lips. “I do. I dabble in a bit of artifice myself, mostly with knives and daggers. Nothing as complicated as moving whole armies.”

  Katherine smiled back, encouraged by Lira’s understanding. “Right. So, what I worked on were fixed, non-magical machines made for transporting troops and supplies. But sometimes, the mission didn’t care about comfort or safety. Even after coming home, it stays with you.” She shuddered slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “War doesn’t leave you, Lira. It doesn’t matter if you’re a few miles away… or worlds apart.”

  Lira’s eyes narrowed, skepticism mingling with concern. “Worlds apart?” she echoed, glancing at Katherine as if trying to judge whether she was serious. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Really,” Katherine said giving Lira a flat look. “After all the questions I asked on the first few days of the city. Hell, the tailor shop.”

  Lira had to let out a small chuckle relieving some of the tension in the atmosphere. “I honestly thought you were going to have an affliction right there.” The chuckle turned into uproarious laughter. “Shade wasn’t much help, coming out of your shadow all teeth and claws, about scared Tavrin to death.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Here,” Lira snapped her fingers, and the cuffs that were around Katherine's wrists just dropped away. “I know you’re still hurting; my offer will always be open to you.”

  Shade who had been slightly waiting for something in a way that made him look like he was ready to pounce. He was and he pounced on Katherine knocking her back on the bed, ferociously licking her face. “Shade, please let me breathe,” Katherine chortled, trying and failing to get her massive feline familiar off of her.

  Katherine took in the room they were in. She started to scan the room earlier, but she stopped when she realized she was cuffed to a bed. “Did I ask where we were?” Katherine asked, her gaze going from the bookshelves that sat between massive floor to ceiling windows to the shelving of different powders and plants. “If I haven’t, let me now. Where are we?”

  “This is my place,” Lira said. “Don’t worry we are still on the estate. This is just a section my father had prepared for after I returned from my initiation training with my coven. He had been insistent that I preform my magic here after my return due to the safety his household guard can provide.”

  Katherine looked at Lira, puzzled as to why security was necessary, then remembered that witchcraft, while not illegal, was still viewed with suspicion by the public and rarely practiced openly. The realization made her stomach tighten with unease.

  An altar stood at the very center of the room, surrounded by tiles in contrasting colors. Katherine paused, her gaze lingering on the stark patterns before she pointed at the altar and asked, “Are those colors meant to be opposites?” Her voice carried a hint of wariness, as if the symmetry unsettled her.

  “They are,” Lira replied, curiosity flickering in her eyes at Katherine’s focus. “Balance is one of the tenets of my coven, unlike most. Why do you ask?” She tried to sound casual, but the way Katherine’s attention lingered made her heart beat a little faster.

  Katherine’s eyes narrowed, and she drew a slow breath as she stepped closer. The altar’s dark obsidian, streaked with clear diamond or some crystalline gem, reflected the light with an otherworldly sheen. Intricate runes inlaid along the sides seemed to hum with quiet power. As Katherine approached, a faint chill crept up her spine—memories of whispered stories about forbidden rituals and the dangers of magic stirred within her. The flat, polished surface looked untouched except for a lone piece of chalk, which she guessed was for drawing ritual circles. Her fingers briefly clenched as she recalled rumors from her childhood, tales of sacrifices and secrets kept behind closed doors.

  Lira noticed the tension in Katherine’s posture and followed silently, feeling the weight of her friend’s scrutiny. When Katherine’s gaze lingered on the chalk, Lira finally spoke, her words gentle but tentative. “Would you like to watch?” The offer carried both invitation and vulnerability, her mind flashing back to past accusations and the anxiety of being misunderstood.

  Katherine hesitated, glancing at Lira before voicing her concern. “No, just curious why this is here,” she said, trying to sound casual even as unease prickled beneath her words.

  “Well, I do practice witchcraft. It wouldn’t make sense if I didn’t have one,” Lira replied, forcing a small, reassuring smile. She felt exposed, recalling the times she’d been questioned or judged by outsiders who didn’t understand her craft.

  Katherine shifted on her feet, her brows furrowing as she considered the altar. She glanced at Lira, searching for reassurance, before finally asking, “What all happens on this altar?” Her voice was careful, the question carrying the weight of old fears she couldn’t quite banish.

  “Several things, mainly rituals,” Lira admitted, her words measured. Sensing Katherine’s wary glance, she amended, “Yes, sometimes blood is involved.” Katherine’s gaze hardened, her eyes sharp and wary as she looked away from the altar and back at Lira.

  “Only animal or my own blood, depending on what I am doing,” Lira added quickly, her nerves tightening under Katherine’s scrutiny.

  Katherine’s gaze made Lira nervous, as if she were suddenly on trial for necromancy—a capital crime in the kingdom. Her mind flashed to past moments when she’d felt isolated or suspected, and she struggled not to let the fear show.

  “I’m not kidnapping townsfolk or villagers to do my rituals. I—” Lira started, her voice faltering beneath the intensity of Katherine’s stare.

  “Lira, stop,” Katherine said, placing a steady hand on Lira’s shoulder. The gesture was firm but not unkind. “Honestly, I don’t know enough about magic to care. The only things I can really do are form familiar contracts and walk through shadows. Thankfully, I can do the last one without throwing up.” She tried to reassure Lira, her tone softening before sharpening again for emphasis. “Next time you drug me, though, I will find a way to break your fingers.”

  In the back of Lira’s mind, two things happened at once. First, she recognized that Katherine’s last statement was not a threat but a promise. Second, she heard the cold, raspy voice of her patron—the one who had given her magic years before—echo through her thoughts: Recruit her, my child.

  ...

  Much to Lira’s dismay, Katherine refused to take the day off and instead went straight back to work. She found Roland knee-deep in a large pond, focused on his tasks.

  Katherine approached, pulling off her boots and socks, determined to help and learn from the beast master. Shade, her feline companion, wisely stayed on shore—clearly wary of the water, which explained why he resisted his first bath time.

  Roland looked up, startled. “Katherine? I didn’t expect to see you back today.”

  “I’m here to work and learn,” Katherine replied, undeterred by his surprise. She waded into the pond, moving toward him. “What are you feeding now?”

  Roland tossed a fish the size of his hand into a section of the pond. “Right now, I’m feeding the Velithornes and Thryssals.”

  Katherine nodded, scanning the water. “Which ones are the Velithornes, and which are the Thryssals?”

  “Velithornes are a kind of eel—almost impossible to spot,” Roland explained, watching her carefully. “If you ever feel something biting you in the water, get out immediately. Their bite injects a paralytic. They’re about six feet long and nearly invisible during daylight hours. Luckily, it’s still early, so they aren’t as active as they’ll be later.” He gestured to the edges of the pond, where lush plants with flowers grew. “And those plants? That’s where the Thryssals linger. They love to play with their food, so steer clear of anything flowering.”

  Katherine hesitated, looking down at her bare feet. “So, if Velithornes are so dangerous, why are you standing in the pond barefoot?”

  Roland grinned, his tone light. “I’ve spent my life around vipers and poisonous reptiles. Built up some resistance to their venom over the years.”

  Katherine’s eyes widened as she considered her own lack of experience. “So, what you’re saying is, I should get out of the water?”

  Roland glanced down, checking to see if she had any protection. “Are you wearing anything on your feet?”

  “No,” Katherine admitted, her voice uncertain.

  Roland’s expression turned serious as he waved her out. “Then yes—get out of the damn water, now!”