by J. A. White
“You ready to tell me the whole truth?” Kara asked.
Safi, her hair now braided in twin pigtails, had scrubbed the grime from her skin and procured a green dress that was long in the arms but otherwise a good fit.
“The truth is that you stole my grimoire.”
“You’re right.”
Kara waited for the anger. The accusations. Not so long ago, a woman named Constance Lamb had taken Kara’s grimoire. She knew from experience how betrayed Safi must feel and expected no less than unbridled hatred.
Instead, Safi threw herself into Kara’s arms.
“Thank you,” she said, kissing Kara’s cheek. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Of course not!” Safi exclaimed, taking her hands. “You had to steal it. That was the only way. If you had tried to talk to me about it first . . .”
“You wouldn’t have listened.”
Safi nodded.
“The grimoire was controlling me,” she said, and then added quietly, “It made me do something I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me.”
Safi stared at her lap, looking very much like the shy, awkward girl Kara had first met in Kala Malta. It was a good idea to send Taff away, she thought. Unlike Kara, he could never truly understand what it was like to be controlled by a grimoire, and for this reason Safi would be more likely to conceal the whole truth. She wouldn’t want her best friend to think ill of her.
Even with Kara as her only audience, however, Safi needed to turn her back before beginning.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s easier if I’m not looking at you.”
“Take your time. You’ll feel better afterward.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Safi took a deep breath and began.
“After the battle with Rygoth, I thought I had lost my grimoire forever, but several nights later I awoke to find myself standing in the Thickety with the book in my hands. I was scared, but excited, too, because I had really missed casting spells. You don’t know what it’s like to have all this power and then just suddenly not be able to—”
Safi stopped and glanced at Kara over one shoulder.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Keep going.”
“I cast a lot of spells that night. Just harmless little things, just to—just because I needed to, I guess. I promised myself I would tell you in the morning, only the morning came and I realized that you would take the grimoire from me if you knew the truth and I didn’t want that. I wanted to go to the World with you and Taff. I wanted to help fight Rygoth, and for that I needed to practice. At least, that’s what I told myself. Really I just wanted to cast more spells. That was all I cared about. I know that now. I hid the grimoire in the forest and every night I found myself back there again. The spells became stranger. Not always what I wanted to cast. I turned a tree to cinders. I created black sucking whirlpools in the earth. I don’t think I hurt any of the forest animals, but—but—”
“The grimoire wanted you to.”
Safi nodded.
“And then one night my father saw what I was doing. He must have followed me. I’m actually surprised it took him so long to realize that I was leaving each night. Ever since what happened with Rygoth he’s been even more overprotective than usual.”
“He loves you,” Kara said.
Safi nodded, tears in her eyes.
“When he saw what I was doing he tried to take the grimoire from my hands and . . . a spell appeared. I didn’t think. I just cast it. Papa froze for a moment and left. The next morning he had no recollection of what had happened. I should have been thrilled! But every time Papa smiled at me or kissed my cheek I felt my heart sink. It was like I was lying to him every minute of the day, even when we weren’t talking.” Safi wiped tears from her cheeks. “But it was worse than that, because there was a small part of me that was laughing at him too. My father, who had never shown me anything but love and kindness, and when I looked at him all I could see was this fool who should never tell me what to do again.”
“It was the grimoire putting those thoughts in your head.”
“I know,” Safi said, her eyes looking off into the distance. “I heard it sometimes. A voice whispering in my ear. That’s when I knew I had to get away, that if I kept using the grimoire it would change me forever. So I snuck aboard the Wayfinder the night before it left. I knew I wouldn’t be much help without my grimoire, but on the other hand I would be far away from its influence. I could be good again.”
Cold dread settled in Kara’s stomach.
“You hid on the ship because you were trying to get away from the grimoire,” Kara said. “And I brought it on board. I ruined everything.”
“That’s not true. Now I know that—”
“Why did you hide so long? Why didn’t you just come to me from the very beginning?”
“I meant to. Only then I saw you with the grimoire and became very confused. I thought you had stolen it for your own use, which is ridiculous, since you—you know. Can’t use it.”
“But the grimoire convinced you otherwise.”
“It wanted me to hurt you. I kept hearing it. The whispering in my ear. I didn’t trust myself, what I would do, so I hid in the cargo hold and waited for things to get better, for me to be myself again. And then Coralis attacked and I knew I had to use the grimoire and help. I had no choice anymore.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kara said. “I didn’t know. If I had just left the grimoire back on De’Noran . . .”
“We would all be dead! Why do you think I was thanking you?”
“I thought it was because you knew I was trying to help you.”
Safi smiled. “That’s nice too, but mostly because now I know what a fool I was to try to escape the grimoire in the first place. It would be completely selfish not to use my powers. Rygoth is gathering witches to her cause. I saw it.”
In addition to being able to use a grimoire, Safi had another special gift: she sometimes saw glimpses of the future. She had foretold Kara’s arrival in Kala Malta. She had witnessed the destruction Rygoth would bring to the World.
“What did you see?” Kara asked.
“A tall banner bearing a double-fanged spider. Rygoth marching at the head of a vast procession of witches, each holding a grimoire from Kala Malta. She hasn’t gathered all of them yet, but once she does no one will be able to defeat her. We need to stop Rygoth now, and you can’t do that on your own. You need me.”
“So you’re just going to keep casting spells? Haven’t you learned anything? Don’t you realize how dangerous that is?”
“Of course! That’s why I’m so glad you’re going to teach me how to control my grimoire.”
Safi clapped her hands together and giggled.
“You can’t be serious,” said Kara.
“Who better?” asked Safi. “Before you learned how to use your wexari powers, you had total control over your grimoire.”
“That’s not true. I never got the best of the original grimoire I used, the one that belonged to my Aunt Abby. It was only when I used my mother’s grimoire that I was sort of able to—”
“That’s right! Even more reason for you to teach me. Your mother was able to control her grimoire for years.”
Kara shook her head.
“I’m not my mother. I’m not even a witch anymore.”
Before Safi could argue the point there came a soft tapping at the door. “Are you two finished talking about girl stuff in there?” Taff asked, and Kara couldn’t help but smile when she opened the door and saw him standing there empty-handed. Her brilliant brother had known from the beginning that she didn’t need water or blankets.
“You have to come up on deck,” he said, yanking them forward. “People are singing and dancing! It’s still pretty far away, but you can finally see land! It’s everywhere. The World, Kara! The World!”
The sun had risen by the time they finally do
cked, shedding light upon a gargantuan landmass that stretched across the horizon like an anchored sky. The Thickety was but a mere copse of trees compared to this, Kara thought, feeling suddenly small and insignificant. She led Shadowdancer down the gangplank of the Wayfinder and paused before the shore.
I can’t believe I’m really here.
All the children of De’Noran had wondered what the World might be like, and Kara had been no different—but actually going there had been a distant, impossible dream. Yet here she was. She took a first, hesitant step onto the beach, fearing her foot might pass through the sand like clouds. The sand was just sand, however, the trees just trees. Indeed, the gull-populated beach looked almost identical to De’Noran’s. It was only as Kara regarded her surroundings more carefully that she began to notice the differences: winter-bare trees whose branches folded inward like umbrellas, strangely shaped seashells that cracked beneath her feet, a foreign smell in the air just a shade sweeter than pine needles.
The real difference, however, was the contours of the World itself, not flat like De’Noran but rising and falling in every direction as far as the eye could see. The Thickety had been terrifying, every shadow holding the promise of violent death, but the vastness of the World was unsettling in its own right. Kara was reminded of a time before her mother’s death, when she had wandered away and found herself on a part of the island completely unfamiliar to her—the pure, childhood terror of getting lost.
This place is big enough to swallow us whole, she thought.
Taff ran past her, doing a cartwheel across the beach; if he shared any of Kara’s fears it didn’t show on his beaming face. “We’re here,” he said, picking up a handful of sand and watching it spill through his fingers. “We’re really here!”
“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?” Kara asked, mussing his hair.
She thought of her best friend back on De’Noran, a boy named Lucas who had been sold to the Children of the Fold when he was just a baby. He had lived life in virtual servitude as a Clearer, cutting and burning the growth of the Thickety before it overtook the village, but had always dreamed of traveling to the World and finding his real family. After the death of Fen’de Stone, Lucas had seized the opportunity to do just that. This had been several months ago, and he had never been far from her thoughts. She found it comforting, knowing he was out there—that at least she had one friend in the World.
Perhaps our paths will cross. Stranger things have happened.
Burly, unshaven men dragged crates of supplies down the gangplank while Captain Clement shouted orders from below. Safi, who had risen late, approached them now, twin pigtails swinging from side to side. Inside her satchel the white grimoire pressed against her hip.
“I never even dreamed I would see other parts of the Thickety outside of Kala Malta,” she exclaimed, “and now I’m in the World! It’s so exciting! So where’s this school we have to find? What was it called again? Sablethorn?”
“Shh,” Kara said. How did Taff talk me into telling her everything? She means well, but she has a loose tongue. “Rygoth has spies everywhere. That’s how she knew I was on the ship.”
“Don’t worry,” replied Safi, slapping her satchel. “I cast a spell this morning that should take care of all that. Anyone tries to eavesdrop on our conversations, all they’ll hear is gibberish.”
“You cast a spell?” Kara asked.
Safi looked down at her feet like a schoolchild just caught copying answers off her neighbor’s slate.
“Just a little one.”
“No spells. Not unless I’m with you.”
“But it was harmless.”
“This time,” said Kara. “Besides, you need to conserve your pages. You’ll use them up faster than you think. Trust me.”
Safi smiled.
“I thought you weren’t going to teach me,” she said playfully.
“I’m not,” Kara said. “I’m just offering some helpful advice.”
They gathered their belongings. Kara hung two large sacks filled with pans and blankets and other supplies over Shadowdancer’s back and helped the smaller children mount the mare. “That too much weight for you, girl?” she whispered in the horse’s ear. Shadowdancer snorted, as though Kara had insulted her by even suggesting it.
They trotted away from the bustle of the disembarking passengers toward the trees at the edge of the sand. Some men and women watched them go with interest, but most were intent on their own concerns. The World was new to them as well.
“Hold up!” shouted a voice behind them.
Captain Clement, somewhat out of breath, had run the length of the beach to catch up with them. “I wanted to tell you something before you went trouncing off all unawares,” he said. “There’s a town west of here. Less than two days by foot. One of my men saw it through his spyglass before we docked.”
“Are you going there as well?” Kara asked.
Captain Clement shook his head. “If the old maps are correct, there’s a large city due north. Nine days’ journey, maybe ten. Depends on how wagon-friendly the roads are. And how safe.”
“But it will be a lot safer without me around, right? Because at least Rygoth will leave you alone.”
“Exactly,” Captain Clement said. “That’s why we need to part paths.” Kara wasn’t sure she would ever like the man, but she appreciated his lack of pretense. “These people are my responsibility, Kara. My first duty is to them.” Clement turned toward Safi. “I would be doing Breem a disservice if I did not ask you one more time—won’t you please come with us? You are of Kala Malta, child. You belong with your people. Perhaps your father will join us soon. He must be out of his mind with worry.”
This struck a chord with Safi, which Kara suspected had been Clement’s intention. The girl missed Breem deeply and was plagued with guilt for abandoning him without so much as a good-bye.
“I left him a letter explaining everything,” she said softly.
“He doesn’t want words. He wants his daughter.”
“My path lies with Kara and Taff. There are terrible things coming. I’ve seen them, and I must do what I can to stop them. Father will understand.”
Clement scoffed. “You might know a lot about magic, but you know nothing about fathers. I could make you come, you know.”
Safi’s hand strayed to her satchel.
“You could try,” she said, a dark expression clouding her face.
Captain Clement coughed into his hand and then strode back to his people, leaving the three children alone in the World.
They walked along the beach, Taff stuffing his pockets with shells at every conceivable moment, until they found a set of stone steps crudely chipped into the rocks. The climb was steep (particularly for Shadowdancer, who did not like the feeling of anything other than dirt beneath her hooves), and by the time they reached the top, Kara’s legs burned. With hands on knees she took stock of their new location: a large road stretching out in either direction for as long as she could see.
“Let’s find this Sablethorn,” Kara said.
Taff reached into his sack, pulling out a porcelain rabbit riding a bicycle. There might have been an extra chip or two in its long ears but other than that it looked no different than the first time they had used it to guide their way through the Thickety.
“Mr. Rabbit!” Safi exclaimed. “I love this little guy.”
“Mr. Rabbit?” Taff asked.
“Well, what do you call him?”
“Anything that’s not ‘Mr. Rabbit.’”
Taff placed the toy on the ground and scratched a line in the sand, so he would be able to calculate how far it traveled from its original distance, and then whispered “Sablethorn” into the rabbit’s ear. After a brief hesitation the bicycle began to shake rapidly, its metal components vibrating like the wings of a hummingbird. A spoke from its tire came undone from the hub and pinged into the air.
“What’s happening?” Kara asked.
“I don’t know,�
�� Taff said. “It looks like it’s trying to move, only something’s not letting it.”
Kara bent forward for a closer look. Indeed, the rabbit seemed to be straining against an immovable force, like someone trying to push a boulder uphill. The bicycle inched forward and a thin crack split open the rabbit’s right boot.
“Tell it to stop,” Kara said. “Hurry!”
Taff was leaning down to whisper in the rabbit’s ear when the entire toy shattered into porcelain dust and broken wire.
“No!” he exclaimed, falling to his knees. A tire rolled past him and he caught it between two fingers.
Safi placed her hand on Taff’s shoulder. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, staring down at the little tire in his hands. He was near tears but fighting it. “If I had to guess, I’d say that someone doesn’t want us to find Sablethorn.”
After Taff had swept the remnants of the rabbit and its bicycle into his sack, they decided to head for the town Captain Clement had suggested. Kara supposed that was as good an idea as any, certainly much better than just randomly picking a direction and walking. Fen’de Stone had done an excellent job concealing precise details of the World from his Children, but if what little Kara had heard were true it would take years to cross from one end to the other. There were entire cities the size of the Thickety, as well as impassable mountains, rivers, and deserts.
Any destination—even one suggested by Captain Clement—was better than none at all.
They followed the road west along the cliff, silty ground crunching beneath their feet. As they walked, Kara began to notice subtle differences between De’Noran and this mysterious new land. Flowers with heart-shaped petals, yellow birds with calls as low as foghorns. Nothing magical, nothing like the Thickety. Just different. Other sights weren’t quite as easy to explain. A gully filled with brackish liquid smooth and shimmery to the touch. Hunks of oddly shaped metal corroding in the sun. And, strangest of all, a flexible tube dangling from a series of evenly spaced metal poles rising to a point just below the treetops. The translucent tube looked like it had water sloshing around inside of it, and ran parallel to the road for several hours before veering through the trees and out of sight.