Page 10 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Ten

NILSA

I ’ve just climaxed when I hear the quietest knock at my door.

I freeze, one hand still in my panties, my robes dishevelled, and my neck still arched to one side from imagining Rysen’s fangs sinking into my vein.

Ah, Goddess. Immortal noses will definitely be able to smell what I’ve been doing in here.

I sit up and pull some power from Opal as I whisper a hasty prayer, summoning a breeze of salty sea air through the window to hopefully get rid of the smell of my arousal. Pushing off the bed, I right my clothes with shaky hands. My legs are still quivering with the force of an orgasm made ten times stronger by fantasising about Rysen when the knock comes again, louder this time.

I murmur a cleansing spell to erase any lingering evidence and head for the door.

“It’s the tuna twins,” Opal warns me as my hand hovers over the handle .

I hesitate.

Cas and Nos are probably the most approachable of the five pirates and that makes them the most dangerous. It’s easier to watch my words around the obvious threat of Rysen, Val, and Kier, but the twins sneak under my defences.

“Lady Solar?” I can’t tell which twin is speaking, but the voice is quiet, almost worshipful.

I clear my throat, pull open the door just a crack and peer out. “What is it?”

The twins are standing awkwardly together in the hall outside, their eyes trained on the tiny crack I’ve made.

“Are you okay?” Cas’s voice is so soft, like he’s afraid of spooking me. “We heard Rysen got a bit rough with you.”

I snort, but cover the sound with an unconvincing cough. I open the door a little wider, checking to see if the damned fae is lurking before I reply.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. I was just… meditating on the Goddess’s divine nature.”

It’s a bad excuse, but it’s the sort of shit I’ve seen Solars do day-in, day-out at the Solar Temple, sitting on cushions, silently contemplating murals of the sun. I tried it once, I only lasted fifteen minutes, and for most of that time, I was wondering what was cooking in the kitchens downstairs.

The twins don’t know that, though, and their ears redden as they stare at their feet.

“Sorry we disturbed you,” Nos mumbles.

“When you’ve finished, would you like to come up on deck and see the ocean?” Cas asks, obviously not about to give up. “We could give you a tour of the rest of the ship.”

I wipe the grimace off my face before it can form. “Thank you. Perhaps after dinner, when I’ve finished my prayers.”

Or never. Never is good too.

Cas stiffens at my rejection, hands fisting at his sides, but as much as I feel bad for turning him down, the thought of going on deck and seeing nothing but miles and miles of water makes my pulse race and my gut churn with apprehension.

I go to shut the door, but Nos slips his fingers around the wood, preventing it from closing.

“Nilsa, our beasts can scent your fear. No one on the ship will hurt you, and Rysen is guilt-ridden for the way he treated you earlier. None of us expect you to keep feeding him if you don’t want to. Just come up on deck, hang out with the crew. It’s not good to shut yourself away like this.”

“I’m not afraid.” My denial is instant. “Just busy. Solar witches spend a lot of our lives in solitary prayer.” Being a lone-wolf isn’t normal for a Lunar witch, but I’m sure I’ll adapt until I clear my name. “And I’m a witch of my word; I said I would feed the entire crew and I will.”

Nos’s fingers retreat just a little but it’s all I need to close the door between us.

“If you ask me, they just want in your pants.” Opal has somehow squeezed through the gap and back into my cabin and immediately sets about jumping up onto my desk where she starts batting at the ring which I took from the body of my High Priestess.

“Leave that alone,” I mutter, snatching it back up. “I’m still looking at it.”

That’s a lie.

I’ve deliberately avoided both the ring and the athame since I came aboard, but there’s no putting this off any longer. Not if I want to clear my name.

The chain is fairly ordinary, silver—which rules out the killer being a shifter or a vampire—but otherwise unremarkable. The gold ring is plain as well, with only a small flat face embossed with a crest I don’t recognise.

But it’s a lead. Someone must know who it belongs to.

I have a clue. Now all I have to do is follow it and pray it doesn’t turn out to be a dead end. I grab the chain in my fist, pull a tiny bit of magic from Opal to fix the broken link, and loop it over my head so it rests between my breasts with my Lunar pendant, securely hidden beneath my clothes.

With the ring out of the way, I stare down at the athame.

Goddess, I want it out of my sight. I grab my cloak from where it hung over a crate and cover the blade.

That done, I lean against the bedpost and survey the cabin.

So… now what? I’m still stuck on a boat, and I have absolutely nothing to do. My two options are to look at these four walls until I go crazy or go above deck with the pirates and let my fear of the sea consume me until I’m a nervous wreck.

Goddess, this is such a bad idea.

But if I go up, I might get the chance to see what Casimir’s shifted form is.

Curiosity wars with fear within me. I creak open the door and glare at the steps at the end of the corridor.

Nope.

I slam the door. Curse. Open it again and stare at the stairs.

Nos is right. I’m afraid. No. I’m fucking petrified.

I’ll be damned if I let the pirates know that, though.

The sea is deadly. It steals the air from your lungs and replaces it with icy cold darkness. It takes everything from people without any warning. And below the waves, endless blackness awaits, ready to swallow you whole.

I shut out the memory with a shiver and look back at my cabin. Maybe I can start on dinner? No, it’s far too early.

“This is going to be a long trip,” I mutter, sinking my fingers into Opal’s fur. “Maybe I can take a few contracts in Evert, get enough gold for a new broom…”

“There are no covens in Evert,” Opal’s voice is soft and sympathetic. “Only Alletta, and she won’t have anything you can afford on a few hasty contracts.”

“Maybe she’ll cut me a deal,” I fiddle with the ring on my neck. “She was exiled too…”

“Over two hundred years before you were even born.” Opal purrs as I scratch her ears. “She might give you something for the athame, but it’s blood-tainted. Even if you were willing to give it up…”

“I don’t want it.” My eyes stray back to the pile of fabric which conceals it. “I couldn’t control it even if I did want it.”

I try sitting still, but almost the instant my ass hits the bed I want to stand once again.

Alone with my thoughts, the enormity of my situation presses down on me. Emotions I don’t want to feel clog my throat.

My coven thinks I’m a traitor. My friends and sisters honestly believe I killed the woman who took me in as a little girl and made me her ward. I need vengeance, but my only clue is an old ring which could belong to anyone.

Overwhelmed, I push to my feet and start to pace.

“Gah, I hate this,” I mutter. “Anything could be happening in Coveton right now and I’m just sitting here.”

I stand and snatch a cannon ball from one of the remaining crates. A little borrowed magic is all it takes for the dark metal to melt in my hands and reform into a scrying bowl. I fill it with water from the tap, unwilling to waste more magic on pulling water from the sea, then carry it to a clear space on the floor.

Scrying is difficult at the best of times, even when a witch has an innate talent for it. I haven’t got talent, but I have got plenty of time and nothing else to do. Looking for a place is easy enough, but finding a person is infinitely more difficult.

I can only hope that Danika is in the Lunar Temple. Even then it takes an hour of impatient attempts just to conjure the image of my friend’s room. She’s there, but she’s also surrounded by four humans, and blushing the colour of a tomato.

Danika, who brags so openly about her conquests, is blushing as these people speak to her.

Well, that's new.

They must be her harem. I study the three men and one woman intently. They’re attractive, in a deadly kind of way. They hold themselves like they’re warriors, and there’s a glint of cunning in the eyes of the woman that makes me like her. If I were there, I’d be nosing around with all the others, trying to find out more about them. But I’m not, so this will have to do.

I’m a little shocked that the Goddess only chose four humans for Danika. I’d bet on her having at least seven, maybe more. Either the others are somewhere else, or these four are all she’s been given.

When Danika holds up her hand to silence them and glances up, almost directly at me, I grin.

Most witches can sense when they're being scried on. It feels a lot like having someone breathe down the back of your neck, so it isn’t something we tend to use on each other unless we want to communicate. I wait as Danika fetches a black mirror and, within moments, I see my own face in the glass.

She covers the image, hiding me from her harem, mumbles a quick excuse, and ducks into her bedroom.

“Nilsa!” she whispers at the glass, “This is too risky, you’re supposed to be lying low.”

I shake my head. “I’ve left the island. They won’t find me now.”

“Unless you do stupid things like contact me!”

“I need to know what’s going on over there. Have they named a new Mother Lunar yet? Have there been any other deaths?”

“Not yet,” Danika shifts, her lips down-turned. “Ceres is a favourite, as are Iras and Philippa. But the Goddess will pick who she picks. The Lady of the Sun chose Rachel as the new Mother Solar yesterday at noon, so everyone expects the Lady of the Moon to choose by midnight tonight.”

“The Lady will choose whenever she wants to.” I grimace. “Or no one, if that is her whim.”

It’s happened before.

If the Goddess refuses to name a high priestess from amongst her witches, it inevitably destroys the coven. Being leaderless is the one fate no one wants to think about. In most cases, that’s the end of the coven. Most witches leave the area and try to join a different temple, and infighting destroys the rest from within.

That’s why Port Evert no longer has a witch presence besides Alletta.

“At least we’ll have an answer soon if Iras is chosen.” Danika smooths imaginary wrinkles out of her dress. “She’s vowed to summon Glenna’s spirit back from the endless night to discover the truth of what happened to her.”

I feel my eyes go comically wide. “But it’s forbidden.”

“She made the vow before the Goddess. If the Goddess makes her the new high priestess, we know she approves.”

“At least Iras speaks her mind.”

“But her brand of bluntness might not work to win the Solars back into an alliance…” Danika ponders. “They’re considering stopping the fosterings, did you know that?”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Ceres agrees. She’d rather pin the whole thing on one deranged individual, struggling under the burden of being chosen to become the Goddess’s Shadow at such a young and delicate age. ”

Her voice changes to a high-pitched sleaze at the last part, and I snort at how good her imitation is. Even if the words are poison.

“Anyway, what—”

The door bursts open behind Danika, and I only catch a glimpse of a flurry of bodies piling into the room before Danika's image disappears.

“Shit!” I hurry to the window and chuck the whole bowl out of it. “Opal!”

My familiar is already on it, lending me magic to power up the sigil marks on my spine.

“They might still trace the—”

“Got it.”

More prayers tumble from my lips, summoning the sea water through the window and into the bathroom where it splashes into the tub. I don't wait for it to settle before jumping in fully clothed.

I scrub at my skin, making sure every part of me is soaked.

“Mother Moon let this water wash the traces of your magic…” My prayer falls flat as the hairs on the back of my neck rise in warning.

Shit.

Too late.

“I didn’t do it,” I whisper to whichever witch has scried me.

They don’t need to know my location if they can trace my own strands of magic back to me. That’s child’s play. Now someone has, and I’m defenceless. No herbs, no salt. Nothing to banish them except the sea water.

“I didn’t kill either High Priestess,” I insist, addressing the unknown witch in the room with me. “I’m going to prove my innocence, if you’ll just give me a chance!”

The water in the tub starts icing over .

Damn it! They’re trying to stop me from washing off the trace.

“Mother Moon, let this water wash the traces of your magic.” The ice is freezing, chilling me down to my bones as my teeth start to chatter. “Mother Moon, let this salt cleanse and purify me.” It’s solidifying around me now, and panic starts to set in as the sensation of being trapped threatens to overwhelm me.

My only chance is to finish the chant. “Mother Moon, let this power replace the old.”

I draw from Opal, but she seems further away, and the magical ice is covering me at an incredible rate.

So cold.

My breath mists in front of my eyes.

“Mother Moon.” It’s getting harder to force the words out. My tongue feels like a block of ice. My vision darkens at the edges. “Hear my prayer.”

There’s a distant smash.

Then it all goes black.