Page 18 of Witch’s Heart

I skimmed, flipping more pages.

I dreamt of Maleia again. I saw her in the middle of the five pointed star, watched as Cornelius flayed the flesh from her bones. The way her magic poured out of her into the opening...it was like watching the last drop of water leave a dying well. What would someone willingly pour into such a void to make it whole? And I did nothing to help, nothing as the portal opened. Only this time, it wasn’t Cornelius who fed the demons, but us. Kerra was swallowed first. They saved me for last…

“Oh my gods,” I whispered. “The portal she's talking about…” Fiona was watching me closely. “There was a five pointed star on the floor, in the room where we found it. I…I didn’t mention it yesterday. I was wary of how much to reveal.”

“Understandable,” Fiona mused.

I turned my attention back to the journal, flipping through.

Avrin has offered us a chance to atone. We will ride to battle beside his warriors. It will not put us back into power, but he has offered us our own, in a way. He will allow us to remain in our small settlement. Even if he offered nothing, I would agree. This was our doing. Perhaps if we can undo it, the nightmares will stop…

I have not written in some time. I find that I haven’t the energy to hold a pen. It is done, in so much as it can ever be done. We contained the wound we made, but wounds this deep...they remember how they were carved. Perhaps someone, someday, will do what we could not, fix what we could not. All I see when I close my eyes are the thousands upon thousands of blackened carasses rotting under the sun. Many of our kind lost. I feel the sting of Kerra’s absence like a twisting knife⁠—

“Was Kerra her lover?” I asked, looking up.

“Yes. Some of her less consequential ramblings confirm it.”

The tribes did not help us, though they used protections of their own to keep the demons at bay. Not that there are many of them left. Not after the way the Uscanians have colonized this place. I say that as if I did not come from Uscaan myself. As if I am not one of them. When did I stop thinking of myself as Uscanian and start thinking of myself as something…other?

“Are there any left? The tribes she talks about?”

“I do not believe so.” Fiona lifted her tea and took a sip. “I will continue my research into the journals that came after Ophelia’s, but safe to say, probably not.”

A weight settled on my chest. It was silly to think that this kingdom had always been as it was. But how could it be? Kingdoms began. They always had a start and sometimes an end. I’d already read about the settling of Corinna some weeks ago, about how Uscaan had discovered this chunk of land. Why had I not thought about the potential for displaced peoples?

Avrin Kozma was crowned two weeks ago, naming his blessed city Corinna and his blessed kingdom Raeria. I don’t much think the tribes appreciate that. They are too few to fight back. I fear they will be no more than a passing thought in decades to come.

We were not permitted into Avrin’s bright city to witness his rise to power, even if we were partly responsible for it. He has permitted us dominion over our small breadth of land, for which we are already hard at work, building our own citadel. A safe haven for people of power. I fear that Maleia’s curse will change our kind. Perhaps there will be no more of us, and we will die out just as her people are.

“Maleia’s curse?”

“Keep reading,” was all Fiona said.

It is as I feared. A young child came to us—a girl of indeterminate age, orphaned. She was not born with magic, but her magic is of our kind. Maleia’s curse, at work. She could not keep from crying as she relayed the events that brought her here. The way magic bled into her veins just before a demon nearly ripped her body apart. I thought we had killed them all. I was wrong. But I was more so wrong about Maleia’s curse. No new babes born of magic. It must come to them in ways like what was inflicted upon Maleia herself—moments of immensity. Gods, forgive us for what we have done.

I looked up at Fiona, aghast, before flipping through more rambling.

They still walk among us. How many, I cannot be sure. Avrin demands that we do something about it. This is our mess, after all, though I wish to remind him that he wasn’t entirely blameless. He wanted the power Cornelius offered, once upon a time. He is paying for it now…as are we all.

I skimmed a few more paragraphs, then turned a page. There was a final entry, and everything after that was blank.

We placed the final stone today. I cannot help but look upon our fortress with pride. Our blessed citadel. It is, perhaps, the only worthy legacy I leave behind. I am tired. So tired. My joints ache. My mind aches. Some days, I wish it to be over. Will Kerra be waiting for me, wherever it is that I go?

I blew out a breath, putting enough of the pieces together.

“You will tell me if you find more?”

“I will.”

“And what of everything else?”

“I will do all I can to protect you and your wielder. This journal, at least, confirms your claim of a portal. I daresay we will know more of your fate when we reconvene. If what you say is true, that Rixon’s blood is the only thing holding the way shut…” She trailed off and blanched.

“Then the gods help us,” I finished for her.

“If things do not rule in your favor…” She hesitated. Her expression told me enough. She was at war with herself. “I will find a way to get you out, before you are stripped of your bond.”

The back of my eyes burned, but not with the thing that lurked inside me. “Thank you,” I managed. Hesitating, I asked, “Why are you so intent on helping me? I know it’s not just because of the portal.”