by M. Gregg Roe
Valwyn made a pouty face as she began to toy with a lock of her hair. “Why do I have to wait until I’m sixteen? I’m already attracted to boys. I’m mature for my age.”
That was true, but her daughter was only fourteen. It wasn’t the first time that Valwyn had made that argument, and it wouldn’t be the last. “Yes, but it’s the boys I’m worried about. Even at sixteen, they aren’t very mature. You will understand when you do start to date.”
Valwyn scowled. “I tried with Petra again today. When I got home from my magic lesson, I dug out one of my old children’s books—the one that shows how to draw the letters. I gave it to her. She spent about a minute looking through it and then handed it back saying that she was done with it! Can you believe that?”
She knew the book that her daughter was referring to. It was amazing that Valwyn had actually found it, given the state of her closet. Petra had been sent to them illiterate, something that Branwyn was not happy about. And from the sound of it, the girl wasn’t interested in becoming literate.
“Thank you for trying, Valwyn.”
Valwyn grinned. “That’s not all. We were talking about …” She began to blush slightly. “The subject doesn’t matter. Petra told me that not only was she not a virgin, but that she’s had sex bunches of times! With a dozen different men! Like I’m going to believe something so ridiculous! She can’t even lie properly!”
Branwyn found herself suddenly unsure if Petra had been lying. “I’ll talk to her. We’ll be going out to dinner tonight. Clean up and then go to the sitting room. I’m going to speak with Petra.”
“Can I have dessert?” asked Valwyn eagerly.
“You eat too many sweets, Valwyn.”
“I do not! It’s impossible to eat too many.”
Branwyn settled for simply frowning her disapproval as she left Valwyn’s room and went down to Petra’s door. But she simply stood there for a moment, thinking about what her daughter had told her. Petra rarely lied, and she had grown up in very unusual circumstances. It simply wasn’t something that Branwyn had given much thought to before.
She and her husband had been flattered when Ermizad asked them to take in Petra and look after her. It was an honor. Ermizad was the ruler of the Witch’s City, and Petra was her new-found cousin. They had known Ermizad for a long time and considered her their friend. How could they possibly refuse?
Not a day passed without Branwyn wishing that she and Milric had refused. Petra resented being sent away. She complained about everything. She was uncooperative, and sullen seemed to be her default expression. She had even tried to run away once—foolish given that Branwyn’s husband was the Captain of the Rohoville City Guard.
Branwyn pushed the door open and entered without bothering to knock. Despite the sunshine outside, Petra’s room was dimly illuminated. Heavy fabric hung in front of both windows out of necessity. Because she had grown up in an underground cavern, Petra’s eyes were very sensitive to light. Branwyn had bought her a wide-brimmed hat to wear outside during the day, but Petra practically had to be dragged out of the house when it was sunny.
As a half-elf, Branwyn had superior night vision, and she could clearly see what Petra was doing at her desk. It was rather surprising. Petra was writing out the letters. They were messy—like the first attempt of a child to write—but recognizable. And they were in the proper order. Petra had already covered two sheets of paper.
“So you already knew how to write the letters?” Branwyn asked.
Petra put down the stylus and frowned at her. “I knew what they looked like, but I didn’t know the proper way to draw them until Valwyn showed me that book. Or the right order. Why are they in that order?”
“I’m not sure,” answered Branwyn, her mind reeling. Petra was telling the truth. She could tell, and it wasn’t just a hunch. As a Priestess of Arwon, she possessed the ability to discern when someone was lying to her.
Petra nodded. She pushed back her chair and rubbed her left hand with her right. “I didn’t think it would be this hard. My hand already hurts.”
“It takes practice,” Branwyn explained. “Petra, did you memorize that book?”
“Yes,” she admitted, her embarrassment evident. “I know it’s not normal. I remember everything I’ve seen. Or heard.”
It wasn’t an ability that Branwyn had ever heard of. Or, as far as she knew, one that Ermizad possessed. She didn’t understand why Petra had been hiding it.
“That’s wonderful, Petra,” she told the girl. “It’s an amazing gift.”
“Not always,” Petra countered. “People usually forget things that are painful, but I can’t. I remember it all. There are things I’d like to forget.”
That hadn’t occurred to Branwyn. And it was yet another way that Petra was different. It also meant modifying her plans to teach the girl.
“I’m sorry for what I said to Valwyn,” said Petra. “I lost my temper.”
“But it was true?”
“Yes. Of course. That’s just the way it was. I coupled with most of the mature males I lived with. It was fun,” she concluded with a wistful expression.
It seemed obvious now. A group of people trapped in a cavern with no hope of escape would, of course, exhibit different behavior. One of the mature males had been Petra’s father, but she decided not to raise the issue. But there was something else that she had to ask.
“You never became pregnant?”
Petra’s face fell. “Twice. But they didn’t last. Most didn’t last,” she concluded sadly.
She had to be referring to miscarriages. That they were common wasn’t really surprising given the living conditions. The ones who had been born in the cavern had all ended up abnormally short. And everyone living there had been skinny. The foods available there had kept them alive, but just barely. None of them had been particularly healthy.
Better food hadn’t made Petra any taller, but it had filled her out, giving her curves that Branwyn envied and men admired. Petra now very much looked like a shorter and paler version of Ermizad, blessed with the same brilliant red hair and emerald green eyes. Branwyn suspected that the girl really didn’t understand how attractive she now was.
“I’m sorry,” said Branwyn tenderly. “That must have been difficult.”
Emotions worked across Petra’s face. “Branwyn, can I have children? Some of the women there couldn’t at all.”
“I don’t see why not. You’re obviously fertile and you’re healthy now.”
Her words clearly relieved Petra. “Good. Then I can still marry Gabriel. I know he wants children.”
Branwyn doubted that Petra would ever be bearing Gabriel’s children, but she wasn’t about to mention it. She picked up the stylus and wrote a single word on a clean piece of paper. She pointed and said, “That’s your name.”
Petra’s lips moved slightly as she stared intently at the word. “Can a letter have more than one sound?” she asked as she looked up.
“Yes. It’s not as simple as it looks. It requires a great deal of memorization, but that will be easy for you.”
Petra looked directly at her and asked, “Will you teach me?”
Branwyn smiled. It was a real breakthrough. “Yes, and I have someone in mind to help—my friend Sabrina.”
“Queen Sabrina?” asked Petra as her eyes widened.
“Yes. She taught her three children, but they all live elsewhere now. I’m sure that she will agree. There is a large library in the castle,” she added.
Petra’s eyes managed to widen even further. “I’ll be able to read all those books and scrolls,” she said in wonder. “Learn all kinds of things. When can I start?”
“Tomorrow. We will go over and talk to her.”
Petra smiled, and it made her look beautiful. It was the first real smile that Branwyn had seen her make since she had moved in with them.
Branwyn went over and sat down on the bed. It was turning into a longer conversation than she had expected. Petra turned the desk
chair to face her with a questioning look.
“Petra, were you having sex at the Witch’s Castle?”
“No,” she replied with a dismal look. “Ermizad explained that things were different here, that people paired off. But it wouldn’t have happened anyway. I had a hard time adjusting to everything, especially the food. I was sick for months.” Petra lowered her head. “What we had for dinner last night made me kind of sick. I’m sorry.”
“No, Petra. I’m the one who’s sorry.” Milric had also complained about it. “It was a new spice and I used too much. I’m not a very good cook.”
“I like most of what you fix.”
“Are there foods you particularly like?”
Petra hesitated. “Mushrooms?”
That certainly made sense. Branwyn liked them, but neither her husband nor daughter did. “Fine. I’ll fix them more often.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“In the Witch’s Castle, you were put in the same living quarters as your parents, correct?”
“Yes. That was strange. I didn’t really believe that Zale was my father until I met Ermizad. And he wasn’t much help there. He kept going out and coming back drunk.”
In hindsight, putting the three of them together had been a huge mistake. They simply weren’t a traditional family. Sofia had never been able to adjust to life above ground. Zale had ended up being evicted from the castle and was apparently a mess. And Petra had been sent to live with them.
“What should I tell Valwyn if she asks?”
Branwyn thought about it. She would tell Sabrina everything, but not her husband. Milric was plainspoken and conservative, from a city where everyone seemed to be that way. He would get the same story as Valwyn.
“Tell her that there was a boy there that you really liked,” suggested Branwyn.
“What about the sex part?”
“You can tell her the two of you were having sex, but no details. And no mention of pregnancy.”
Petra nodded. “Okay. Can we go visit the others where they live now?”
It was a reasonable request, but it wasn’t an easy trip. And she would probably have to get permission first. “I’ll look into it, but it probably won’t be soon.”
“Okay. Thank you, Branwyn.” She hesitated. “I’ll try to do better.”
Branwyn smiled at her. “Good. I understand you better now. You are still trying to fit in.”
“Yes. It’s still hard.”
Branwyn stood up. She had heard noises indicating that Milric was home. “We are going out for dinner.”
Petra stood as well. “Okay. I’ll change and then come out.”
Branwyn headed to her own bedroom to change and wash up. Eventually, Valwyn would figure out that Petra had been telling the truth. But Arwon-willing, it wouldn’t be soon.
♦ ♦ ♦
Valwyn went to her bedroom that night both happy—she had gotten dessert—and wary. Specifically, she was now wary of Petra. She used her desk chair to block the door just to be safe. Then she piled some books on it to be even safer.
It had taken every bit of Valwyn’s hard-won acting skills to not tell her mother something that afternoon, and then to make everything appear normal during dinner. Her mother’s ability to detect lies thankfully had limitations. Branwyn didn’t necessarily notice if something had simply been left out of an answer. She was also vulnerable to misdirection. Valwyn was skilled at exploiting those flaws to hide things. And did she ever need to hide something.
Petra had been so pleased by Valwyn’s efforts to help her learn to read that she had promptly offered to couple with her. The explanation that followed at Valwyn’s request had managed to be flattering, shocking, and incredibly embarrassing. Just thinking about it now was embarrassing. Petra liked both males and females and claimed to have coupled with both. Valwyn politely declined or had tried to anyway—she wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at the time. Fortunately, Petra didn’t appear to take offense and promised not to ask again.
Valwyn was never going to be able to think about Petra the same way again. She got out of bed and added more books. You couldn’t be too safe. Not with a female-coupling witch just down the hall.
♦ ♦ ♦
Petra found herself feeling sad as she lay in bed that night. Speaking with Branwyn earlier had made her realize just how much she missed the people she had grown up with. The cavern had been her whole world, and they her family. Sofia was her birth mother, but children were raised by everyone. And if she hadn’t been different, she would still be with them.
Her differences really hadn’t mattered in the cavern. They had simply been part of who she was and everyone accepted them. An outsider named Zale had claimed that her ability to move objects with her mind proved that she was his daughter, but no one took him seriously. No one ever knew who their father was. How could they?
The arrival of four young adventurers had changed everything. They did the impossible, escaping from the cavern and ultimately bringing about everyone’s rescue. Petra ended up in the Witch’s City, and Zale’s assertion was proven correct. She was both his daughter and a witch. And she was important. She was the cousin of High Witch Ermizad, the woman who ruled the city, and whom she definitely resembled.
It took months for her to even begin to adjust to her new life, and by then her mother had simply given up, refusing to leave their living quarters. Petra, however, was determined. The outside was frightening and different, but it was also fascinating.
In the cavern, Petra had coupled with anyone who asked. That was expected. Pairing off with one person or forming an exclusive group simply wasn’t tolerated. Survival in such a hostile environment required everyone to work together all of the time.
Ermizad had made it clear to Petra that things were different outside. She couldn’t go around having sex with just anyone who asked, especially given her importance as one of only three witches in the Witch’s City. (Petra had been horrified to discover that if something were to happen to Ermizad and her daughter, then she would be the ruler of the Witch’s City!) Petra agreed because in her mind sex meant a coupling between a male and a female. She was still allowed to couple with females. Ermizad obviously did that too, given that she wasn’t married and all of her servants and personal guards were female.
Petra continued to couple with her mother—a great comfort for both of them—and eventually found a half-elf clerk who was amenable. She also decided to pursue a male, if only for the sake of appearance. Gabriel was the obvious choice. He was one of the adventurers who had rescued them, he lived in the Witch’s Castle, his family was important, and he had always treated her kindly.
She still didn’t really understand what had happened. Gabriel’s refusal to date her—another strange concept—had caused her to lose her mind. She became obsessed. She watched him practice his combat skills. She followed him around. She befriended his sister in order to ingratiate herself with his family. She couldn’t stop herself, and her behavior finally resulted in Ermizad taking action. And so Petra had been banished to Rohoville to live with Branwyn, Milric, and their daughter.
It was Petra’s second time being uprooted. It wasn’t nearly as big a change, but it was still going to take time for her to adjust to her new situation. She needed to live as part of a real family, something that was foreign to her. And it wasn’t exactly a normal family; she was still trying to figure the three of them out.
Petra got out of bed and went over to the nearest window. She opened it slowly, letting in cold air that didn’t bother her even though she wasn’t wearing anything. Outside was a bush that had a large spiderweb. She had even trimmed it to make it easier for the spider. She selected two large flies caught in the web and deftly extracted them, using her witch power rather than her fingers. She floated them through the window and closed it quietly. They were both still alive, struggling futilely against her power, as she landed them on her right palm. She popped them into her mouth and slowly chewed before swallow
ing. The taste was familiar, comforting. Insects had been an important food source in the cavern.
She climbed back into her bed smiling and soon drifted off.
12
‡ Anxiety ‡
Hankin almost disembarked the ship in Rohoville. Almost. But then his resolve stiffened and he stayed on board. He had left the Witch’s City without permission. Celebern ordered him not to chase after Buris, but his anger over what had happened to Natalia simply wouldn’t subside. He still blamed himself for not detecting the trap, and one way or another, Buris would pay for his actions. Hankin simply wouldn’t settle for anything less. And now, after disobeying strict orders, he couldn’t afford to fail.
The task wouldn’t be easy. Novox had an office in Zardis whose resources he could employ, at least for now. But Zardis was both larger and older than the Witch’s City. Its streets hadn’t been planned; they had evolved haphazardly over thousands of years. The city was a maze for anyone who hadn’t grown up there, and even they usually were only familiar with one area. On his one prior visit, Hankin had found the city’s layout confusing.
His primary problem was the Zardis Thieves’ Guild. Some people said that it was older than Zardis itself, that it had always existed in some form in that area. No one knew how many members it was comprised of. And it was compartmentalized—no one member knew very many others. There was a large and ostentatious headquarters building, but it was mostly for show, to let everyone know that the Guild existed and had power. The real leadership was said to dwell deep underground. Some even said that the true leaders were inhuman creatures of pure evil, much like the devils that had ruled Zardis for a time. Hankin doubted that, but it was indisputable that the Guild controlled much of went on in the city.
Hankin didn’t want or need to take on the entire Guild. He just needed to locate Buris, question him, and then either kill him or take him back to the Witch’s City. He needed to succeed. It was his only hope of escaping severe punishment for his disobedience. But he also wanted to do it for Natalia, and to impress one other person who was special to him.