Page 7

“Items lost by mortals in the Upper Realm are said to be found again in the luggage compartments aboard Death’s train.” –Esther Weil, Renowned Folklorist

M y coven gathered in the same lounge car I’d met most of them in before the trial. The sight of them renewed me. Ruchel crowed excitedly when she spotted me, an herbal poultice plastered to her swollen cheek. She threw her arms up into the air, grabbed Nola beside her around the neck, and shook her.

“It’s good to see you, old duck,” Nola said, chuckling. “We didn’t doubt you for a second.”

“Oh, you didn’t?” I quipped. “Then that’s not my things you’re dividing between you on the table there?”

Nola swept my belongings swiftly back into my satchel. “Certainly not.” Her smile turned sheepish.

“Don’t fuss. I know it’s good sense. I’m glad you didn’t give anything away, though.” I dumped the new supplies in front of our high witch, then returned my pocket pistol to the holster in my boot. “These are gifts from Nott. May they be a blessing on our new coven.”

Blue and the sisters huddled in the cushioned chairs beside me. Blue’s eyes had widened in delighted surprise when I entered the lounge, but now they narrowed to suspicious slits. Liesel whispered something hurried and anxious in her sister’s ear.

“You made it?” Blue said, the statement sounding too much like a question one might hurl in an interrogation. “You’re a witch with no chosen elemental specialty. And yet you made it . . .”

I picked out the socks from the pile and handed them to Ruchel. Her grateful smile stirred up my weak spirits, renewing a pinch of my spent energy.

“I made it,” I said cautiously to Blue. That witch was much too clever for her own good.

“But how did you make it?” she demanded.

“Did you go after the basher’s eyes or his testicles?” Nola offered. “I told her to do that.” She winked at me, chest puffed out with pride.

“I went after his eyes,” I said honestly. They need not know how it had all ended. That sort of magic would only get me killed by an anxious witch in my sleep.

Blue protested, “But how does anyone—”

“I’m very lucky to be alive. I realize that’s not enough for you,” I said, struggling to keep my tone diplomatic, “but I’m exhausted and starving. Let me recuperate. I’ll share all the exciting details another time.”

Blue opened her mouth to argue further.

“We owe Maven our lives,” Ruchel said, an edge of command in her voice that brooked no argument.

Blue closed her mouth and kept it shut. Our high witch had spoken.

The train chimed three times before setting off through the underground tunnels. Food was served thereafter. Blue and the sisters didn’t join us in our dining car. The slight irked me. I wanted a true coven. We all needed it, and their distrust would only get in the way of that. But I was too spent to put any effort into growing a bond just now.

Different foods were served in each car. Nola moved between them, overfilling her plate, trying everything, putting away dishes in that way only a red witch could, renewing her energy stores to bursting. Ruchel ate with me in a car that was nearly empty.

“They serve a cuisine similar to Ashkish’s here. Food from my province,” she told me, her words muffled by her swollen injury and the dried herbal paste on her cheek. “The cars that serve meat are more popular.”

I knew Ashkish. My sister and I had traveled through it on a number of occasions, though we’d never made our home there. The population was small, but Universities were plentiful. They were credited with making great advancements in academia, with a particular interest in ethics and astronomy. Their flag was decorated with the great ash tree constellation, believed to always point a traveler north.

Faceless revenants filled the tables with a feast. I kept my eyes on the ground as they worked. When they were gone, the fruit alone had my mouth watering. I helped myself to it before I even bothered grabbing a plate, standing over the buffet like a goblin, shoving food in my mouth from the serving trays. Bright burgundy grapes, sliced apples, iced pears and peaches. Everything was ripe and fresh, not a speck or wrinkle or distortion in sight. It was nothing like the dried things my sister and I tolerated in Kosh. It was too perfect, like Wulfram. Divinely made.

My sweet tooth summoned me next. I ate a doughy bread that was braided, the inside smeared with chocolate. I consumed it until my fingers were sticky, and my spirit soared. I could have eaten my weight in that bread, but Ruchel pushed a plate of crisply fried patties made of shredded potato at me. She showed me how to dip them in tart cream, and I never wanted to eat anything else.

“I don’t have the stomach for meat,” she said as we shared a cheese plate and a bowl of roasted almonds and chestnuts. “But if you want it, Nola knows where they serve the best fish and pheasant. They’re her favorite.”

Sated, I wrapped up the rest of the nuts and hearty slices of bread in cloth napkins and stowed them in my satchel—all food that would keep well to aid me in the next trial. Ruchel did the same. We replenished our water supplies from the pitchers. As soon as a pitcher was empty, a revenant came to replace it.

I saw the girl I’d met before the trial, the young yellow-haired woman with the beast-born tail. She was faceless, her soul gone, nothing but an empty shell animated by death magic. My stomach plummeted at the sight of her refilling pitchers.

“Thank you, Hilda,” Ruchel said to the girl, though the revenant paid her no mind at all, her movements brisk and mechanical.

The train made its way out of the tunnels. Night had fallen. Darkness turned the desert dunes outside a brilliant shade of purple. A quarter-moon lit the sky, and millions of glittering stars winked down at us from between the clouds. Ruchel regaled me with her favorite historical facts and read a book out loud from her knapsack, a history on the Otherworld by a folklorist named Esther Weil. The chapter she read from was a reflection on how one realm impacted the calendar system in another. Sharing knowledge renewed her mind energy best, she explained.

“And it helps if you pretend to be interested,” she instructed.

“You’ll never think for a moment I’m not riveted,” I said, and I fulfilled my promise, nodding along and making listening noises as needed. She had a soothing voice. I didn’t mind it.

When she’d finished the chapter, she shut her book with a snap. Her ochre eyes found mine and trapped them. “The legends say the moon will be full the day the Crow Games finally begin and the covens battle to the death.”

“I thought you said those legends were nonsense.”

Her gaze flicked out the window before settling on me again. “It’s strange, is all. All the months I’ve been down here, the moon has been a pale sliver in the sky. The faintest crescent. Now look at it.”

I glanced at the fat quarter-moon, a vibrant shade of silver more luminescent than the stars around it. “Hm.”

“The first night you’re here, and it’s the fullest I’ve ever seen it.”

“Coincidence, of course,” I said casually. My stomach knotted at the implication. My mouth went dry, but I didn’t dare finish my glass of water. I didn’t want the revenants to come back to refill it.

“Of course,” she said, her smile faint and unconvincing.

I tried to smooth things over with Emma and Liesel by gifting them the salt and garlic I’d gathered during the trial. They’d make better use of such things anyway. Emma accepted them with polite reluctance, but Liesel wouldn’t look at me.

When it was time for sleep, I selected a compartment across from the one Ruchel and Nola shared. Mine was smaller than the others, with only a single bed. Blue and the sisters declined to sleep near us.

“You made a blood vow,” Ruchel reminded them.

Nearness to one’s coven had a restorative effect. We replenished our energies faster, healed quicker, and the spells cast together were stronger.

“We did,” Blue said. She waved off the sisters, and the green witches continued down the aisle without her. Her flinty eyes glanced my way before meeting Ruchel’s head-on. “We don’t intend to break that vow.”

“Then start acting like it,” Ruchel bit out.

Blue’s jaw set. She turned on her heels without saying another word.

Inside my cabin, behind a closed door, I found clean undergarments amongst the random items stored in the luggage compartment. Changing into them made me feel like a whole new person. It renewed my spirit better than even the food had. Kicking my boots off was lovely too. Nola had warned me to sleep with them in my bed to deter thieves from taking them. The doors only locked from the outside. I did so, tucking them under the blankets, dirt and all.

“Goodnight, Lisbeth,” I said to the empty room. After twenty years, it was still a habit.

Why do you have to be dead? I wanted to say it out loud, but the words caught in my throat. Who killed you? Did you show your gray accidentally by possessing someone again? I won’t be mad. I just need to know.

If a god had killed her because she was a gray, then why had I been spared? Spirit magic ran in families, just as elemental specialties often did.

My long life had taught me that it was always those in power who had the most to lose, the ones who hoarded authority and refused to share it who were the ones quickest to hurt innocent people like Lisbeth. King Alrick was the greatest of the gods. He wasn’t known for being cruel, but he was also a god I had never interacted with. I hadn’t recognized the sigil that burned on the ceiling of our shop, so all the gods I did not know remained high on my murder list, gods who spent all or most of their time in the Otherworld. Alrick now took the lead. By reputation, he had the most power, and he never shared it. He had the most to lose against a gray like Lisbeth and myself . . .

But how could I get my hands on a sample of Alrick’s magic so that I could test my theory?

Before my thoughts could go racing off out of my control, Lisbeth’s sweet voice visited me.

Goodnight, love , she whispered just like she had every other night.

I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

* * *

A heavy weight pressed me into the mattress, and I jerked awake, unsure of the time. Something sharp gleamed at my throat. My spirit surged. It burst out of me, coating the walls in tiny glittery lights that shimmered silver in the dark. My magic was still far from fully renewed, but there was more of it now after resting.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, ducky,” Nola said, oblivious to the magic around her. It was her weight on my body, her blade at my throat. “We’re genuinely glad you’re not dead.”

“The placement of your knife suggests otherwise,” I huffed, the jut of her elbow constricting my lungs.

“But how the Hel are you alive right now?” Ruchel demanded, her stance stiff beside my bed, slender arms folded over her chest. “And don’t lie to us. I’ll know it if you do.”

Silver spirit magic glittered against the walls and bedding like starlight. They couldn’t see it, but it coated them as well, shining in their hair.

“I’m a gray witch,” I rasped. Stunned into silence, they didn’t respond. This wasn’t at all how I’d wanted them to learn the truth, but what choice did I have now? “I tried to shoot the garm basher in the eye with the revolver, but the brute disarmed me. I’m alive because I reached into the beast’s chest, ripped out its soul, and cast it into the ether.”

Horror widened Nola’s cobalt eyes. I waited for her to drive the dagger home, fingers digging anxiously into the sheets at my sides. Confusion melded with reluctance in her tightening features. The line between her tawny brows deepened.

I hoped she wouldn’t try to kill me. I hoped they’d hear me out, hoped the connection we were building could continue into something more. Something greater. Something strong enough to tear down these horrid games and claim our freedom. Whatever answer she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. Her grip slipped ever so slightly on her blade.

I braced myself for her response. She blinked, mystified. Then her gaze shifted to her partner.

Ruchel’s mouth pressed into a firm, unyielding line. She worked her throat. “If you’re gray, then you’re not human. Not completely. So what are you?”

“Beast-born?” Nola guessed when I didn’t immediately supply an answer, her tone hopeful.

“You’re heavy,” I rasped.

“And you’re welcome for that,” Nola said. “We didn’t want you jerking upright and cutting yourself. Not yet anyway.”

“Thoughtful,” I coughed.

“Enough of that,” Ruchel snapped. “Answer the blasted question.”

“I’m not beast-born,” I sighed. “I’ve no garm blood.”

“God-born,” Ruchel hissed. “Then you have god blood.”

“That’s so much worse, duck,” Nola groaned. “Entire civilizations have fallen under god-born grays. There’s a crater in Northern Sebrak with the last known gray witch’s name on it, for fuck’s sake. The barrens in the south are barren and haunted by revenants because of a gray.”

“I’m not what you think,” I insisted.

“I don’t yet know you, but I know history,” Ruchel ground out. “I’ve studied it for most of my life. There’s not a gray witch in all of the texts who didn’t murder countless—”

“But we don’t all make history,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Believe what you want of me, but my baby sister was a god-blooded gray witch too. Yet you’ve never even heard of Lisbeth. She lived and died a sweetheart, and she won’t make a single page in any of your scribe texts for it. She was so considerate of life, when moths got into her fabric, she caught them in jars and set them free outside. Lisbeth just wanted to feed street children and dance at festivals and make pretty things. She never ruled over an army of the undead or feasted on the souls of her enemies or . . .”

Lisbeth never would have attempted to turn the entire city of Kosh to ash. She was the better of us. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I blinked them back.

“I am sorry for your sister,” Ruchel said gently, “but that doesn’t mean—”

“I won’t hurt you,” I vowed, scowling up at her. “I’m not after armies or kingdoms or riches, and I’ve no interest in eating either of your souls. I may have god blood, but I don’t have god ambition. The only person who has anything to fear from me now is the deity responsible for murdering Lisbeth. Ruchel, look at me and tell me I’m lying. You’re a mind witch. Who could fool you?”

Ruchel chewed at her cheek. Nola’s brows lifted toward her hairline, waiting on her partner’s answer. I held my breath, eager for the same.

“You’re not lying,” she said softly.

Nola climbed to her feet and lowered her blade.

All at once the breath rushed out of me. “Now that you both seem less intent on murdering me, there’s something else I should tell you . . . Don’t panic, but that’s not a knife in your hand, Winola.”

She lifted the braided pastry suddenly clutched between her fingers. It was covered in my silvery magic. “What in Hel?” She sniffed at it.

“When you woke me in such an abrupt fashion, my spirit overreacted. It grabbed hold of your consciousnesses and pulled your minds inside mine,” I explained. Though Nola appeared to be standing, I still felt her weight pinning me to the mattress. Her body drooled on my neck. The actual knife had fallen somewhere between the sheets.

Spirit and consciousness were two sides of the same coin. Lisbeth had a bad habit of possessing the bodies of others with hers, but I’ve always been more inclined to do the opposite in those rare moments when I was drastically caught off-guard.

“Sacred Crone,” Ruchel breathed, and the puncture on her cheek vanished. I didn’t like seeing her hurt.

Nola brought the bread up toward her mouth, inspecting it. It looked like the braided Ashkish pastry I’d feasted on earlier. It was so delicious some part of me was still dwelling on it.

“Don’t eat it,” I warned her. “You might wake up having chewed on your fingers.”

Or on me, considering how close her mouth was to my face at that moment. They were lucky I was so depleted it was only their consciousnesses my magic grabbed and not their souls. Consciousness was weaker than spirit but flexible and more accustomed to wandering. Severing their mortal souls was not something I could have fixed.

Behind them, the walls glittered brilliantly and changed. Ruchel turned in a circle, taking in the transformation.

We were no longer in a sleeper car. The room resembled my old apartment in Kosh. Behind them, Lisbeth’s bed sat, the sheets turned back, a dent in the pillow from where her head had recently rested. One of her favorite earrings remained on her nightstand, missing its match just like I now was forever missing mine.

My eyes stung.

Lisbeth and I shared the same divine father. I almost never heard from the louse. Then twenty years ago he’d dropped in out of the blue to tell me I had a little sister by some poor mortal woman who needed my help. He was too busy doing as he pleased to assist, and my life was forever changed.

“If you truly mean us no harm, then you’ll keep answering our questions,” Ruchel said.

“I’ll do my best,” I croaked around the lump growing in my throat.

Nola bent over me to skim a finger along the chain at my neck, the soft shink of the delicate metal a whisper in my ear. “This amulet, where’d you get it?”

That was a loaded question indeed. I stole a long breath, borrowing myself some time to organize my thoughts.

“I’ve seen ones like yours before,” Ruchel pressed, squeezing her torch amulet in her palm. “The originals that belonged to the first priestesses of Fria are kept under strict lock and key at the temple of God King Alrick. They’re relics. Powerful ones. Warlocks kill for them, and warlords have gone to battle just to hold one. Mine is a simple replica, but yours appears very old. I would know. Taking care of artifacts like that one was part of my job.”

“It’s old because I’m old,” I said, tone level. It was a bit of a relief to finally have it out in the open, to be able to speak freely.

They shared a look between them, brows furrowed.

“How old?” Ruchel demanded.

“Ancient,” I said. “I don’t think anyone keeps track after the first century or two. A millennium ago, the common calendar system drastically changed—you reminded me of it when you read to me earlier—so there’s that issue as well. I couldn’t tell you correctly how old I am.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Nola breathed. “A millennium?”

I shrugged. “Two or three depending on your calendar of choice.”

“Were you . . . ?” Ruchel’s words softened into something reverent. “Maven, are you saying you’re one of Fria’s witches?”

“The very first one.” I lifted the amulet high for her inspection. It shone in the false lantern light.

“By the Crone’s saggy tits,” Nola gasped. “Don’t sell me a dog here, Maven. Be truthful.”

“She’s not lying,” Ruchel whimpered. Her hand came forward, fingers outstretched. She stopped just short of touching the bronze. Her arm dropped back to her side. “The goddess of magic owned this? She wore it?”

I nodded. “You sensed I would be useful to you, Ruchel. Remember? So use me but don’t fear me. We’re on the same side here. We’re a coven now.”

“Coven of crones,” Nola teased. “I may not be as old as you in years, but the trials make me feel just as ancient.”

I snorted a laugh. “Coven of ruthless bitches who are going to get the Hel out of these games. Together. Come what may.” Then all the mirth died out of my tone. “I know you’re frightened of me, but we have a common need here. I broke my way into the Otherworld after Lisbeth was murdered. You could help me break us out .”

Nola’s responding bark of mirth lifted my spirits.

But Ruchel wasn’t laughing. Her easy smile was gone. “I don’t often agree with Blue, but there’s one thing she likes to say that always rings true: Hope is a dangerous business, and it doesn’t belong in the Otherworld. It’ll get you killed here just as swiftly as having too kind a heart.”

It broke something in me to think of all she’d endured as a prisoner to believe such a thing. It broke me even more that there were parts of me that found the sentiment relatable. “Ruchel, I won’t—”

“I’ll do it. I’ll use you,” she said. Her lips pursed, and a muscle jumped in her cheek. “At this point, I’ll use everyone I’ve got to if it keeps me out of the dirt. That’s the only true choice any of us have left down here. Live or die.”

Ruchel ordered us not to share the revelation of my true nature with the others. She felt they weren’t ready for it, and I agreed. She was also worried that if news spread I was a gray, the established covens would either wish to recruit me by ruthless means or wish to annihilate us all immediately to quell the threat I posed. I would need to be careful in the trials.

In more detail, I told them how I had earned my place in the games. And I explained why they shouldn’t surprise me in the night with blades anymore. It wasn’t my intention to add to Ruchel’s discomfort with what I was capable of, but it needed to be said.

“I’m out of practice,” I confessed, and Ruchel’s face fell. Nola looked a bit green around the gills. “I’ve been in hiding a long time, but I’ll get better. I’ll have more control again eventually. Be patient with me and keep your blades to yourselves in the meantime. That goes double for you, Winola.”

* * *

When I woke again, false light shone in around the curtains. I’d made a mess in my compartment searching through the luggage before bed, but all of that was gone now. Curious, I went looking through a chest and found all-new items that hadn’t been there before, items worth adding to my satchel. The fresh shirtwaist was my favorite find, even if the linen was a cream color that would show every stain.

I pulled back the curtains and gasped at the sight before me. Giants as tall as trees walked the sandy dunes dressed in leathers and moss-covered furs. Great cloaked crows swooped around them, herding them away from the train and back toward the desert. The way their magic billowed and moved, the reapers looked just like massive black birds.

A coven of green witches bartered with others for goods in a dining car just beyond the sleeper cabins. Boots and fresh linens exchanged hands. Then a fight broke out between two men over a pair of socks, one a horned beast-born and the other a blue witch wearing a water amulet. Fists were thrown. Revenants swarmed the car, and I was shoved against a wall in the panic. Witches took refuge beneath the tables.

The aggressor who’d thrown the first punch was dragged kicking toward the exit by the faceless attendants. He grunted and bellowed and thrashed. The bone doors opened wide, hot sandy wind whipped against my face, and the water witch was thrown from the moving train. I watched out the window as we sped by, his body suddenly a speck in the distant sand.

While the blood was still pounding in my ears, the green witches went right back to bartering. My heart was trying to beat its way out of my throat, but the others were unfazed.

Was this my future? This indifference?

Prisoners gathered with their covens in various cabins, eating what had been left out from the feast the night before. I found my coven bickering in the last dining car and knew immediately I had been the topic of the spat. Whatever story Nola had invented to cover for me regarding my battle with the beast must not have been well-received.

“Hold your noise,” Ruchel ordered the group, and a reluctant silence fell.

Young Liesel made a hasty retreat into the lounge. Nola sent me a reassuring wink, then went after her. Emma bristled at my nearness, but she was too busy reapplying a garlic and oil poultice to Ruchel’s swollen cheek to escape me. The puncture had worsened in the night.

Blue emptied a glass of water into the nearest pitcher and held it out toward Ruchel. “Go piss in this and bring it back to me.”

Ruchel blinked at her. The blood vessels around her injury had burst, dotting her cool brown skin in burgundy splotches. “You want me to what?”

“Are you being thick-headed or is there something wrong with your ears too?” Blue shook the glass at her. “I need to read your urine. Go relieve yourself into that cup. The more piss, the better.”

Emma rubbed the last of the pulpy mixture onto the wound, then cleaned between her fingers with a cloth napkin. “Leisel and I were in training to become midwives before all this mess. I can help you, but I need to know if the poultice is working. Perhaps you need different ingredients.”

“And we need to know if you’re going to drop dead anyway and we’re just wasting our resources,” Blue said flatly. She acknowledged me then with a sidelong look. “You were attacked too by the garm pests, weren’t you? I saw your arms yesterday.”

I plucked at the sleeve of my new shirtwaist and shuffled my feet. “I was, but I’m not having the same reaction. I wasn’t hurt as deeply, I suppose.”

God blood likely had more to do with it. I didn’t age. I healed quickly and was rarely ill. The limp from my injured ankle was already gone. I pretended to favor it when I thought they were staring.

She sniffed at me scornfully. “Hm. You were stung several more times, but you’re not sick. That’s just more good luck, though, I suppose.”

“Blue,” Ruchel groaned, “didn’t we just talk about how you weren’t going to be a cunt this morning?”

She lifted one sculpted silver eyebrow. “We did.”

“So why are you being a cunt, then?”

Blue shrugged her shoulders. “Better to be a cunt than a fool. Now go piss in this cup before I change my mind. Maybe I’ll save my energy for something more worth my while.”

Ruchel struggled to stand. I helped her back to her car so she could relieve herself privately. When she was finished, I carried the half-full glass back for her. Ruchel shambled behind me weakly. It took her ages to reclaim her chair.

Blue wrinkled her nose and accepted the glass, careful not to touch my fingers with hers, like I was contagious. Emma and Blue left us to our breakfast in the dining car to go and work the water spell.

I did most of the eating, my satchel clutched beside me to deter others from stealing my goods.

Ruchel picked at the fruit on her plate and watched the migration of the giants out our window. “They’re getting bolder,” she said, worrying her lower lip. A sheen of sweat built at her brow, evidence of her growing fever.

“I don’t think giants stand much of a chance against reapers, though,” I said reassuringly. More cloaked crows gathered, floating like wraiths to herd the lumbering creatures farther away from the tracks. Their billowing shadows were as black as night and as big as houses.

I felt the darkness approaching before I saw it crawling along the window glass. The hair on my arms stood at attention. Shadows crept from the corners of the room to coat the cabin floor. I propped my boots up on the empty chair next to me to avoid the pooling magic. The scent of leather and cedar oil filled my nose as a cloaked figure billowed up from out of the shade.

Ruchel choked on the piece of apple she was nibbling.

“You,” I stammered. My tongue failed to come up with anything more useful or coherent.

Asher stood so close I could reach out and touch his cloak. His overly curious magic circled my seat, running shadowy veins up the chair legs. My spirit sputtered in my gut, too weak to make much of a showing after the events in the night.

“Trouble,” he greeted in that baritone of his that was as deep and dark as the death magic rippling all around him. Then he stared at me with the patience of an ageless man who never had to hurry.

My heart thumped against the cage of my ribs in the rudest fashion, ignoring my internal commands to appear brave and collected, to behave formidably before our foe. Sweat gathered in my palms. “What do you want?” I prompted.

“You,” he said softly, and the pulse at my throat jumped. “You and the rest of my little coven.”

At that, my misbehaving heart came crashing to a halt.