Witchsign. Den Patrick

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СКАЧАТЬ turned on his father and stabbed out an accusing finger. ‘And you’re supposed to protect me. Aren’t parents meant to protect their children? Some father you are.’

      ‘I never wanted this for you,’ said Marek, but his voice broke and he looked away.

      ‘Steiner,’ said Kjellrunn, ‘just hear them out.’

      ‘Because that would suit you perfectly, wouldn’t it? Sacrifice me so you’re spared whatever happens on the island.’

      ‘She can’t go to the island,’ said Marek. ‘If she’s forced to use her power for the Empire …’

      ‘What? What is it you know?’ asked Steiner, stepping closer.

      ‘Using the arcane burns people up,’ said Verner. ‘It hollows them out, renders them sick and useless. It’s like fire with coal and wood.’

      ‘Kjell will die,’ said Marek, though it barely needed saying.

      ‘And you think they won’t kill me the moment I fail to …’ Steiner waved a hand, unsure what he was gesturing. They all knew he meant displaying the arcane.

      ‘You can’t go to the island, Kjell,’ said Marek. ‘No good will come of it.’

      ‘Even if we did tell the Vigilants about Kjell–’ Verner shook his head. ‘They’d likely take both of you. A Vigilant can’t be seen to make a mistake.’

      ‘I’m glad you three are in agreement then,’ said Steiner bitterly. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to make the most of my last few hours of freedom.’

      Kristofine stood on the front step of the tavern, and once again she favoured Steiner with a smile, though the sadness in her eyes could not be missed.

      ‘Hoy there, Steiner.’

      ‘Hoy yourself. I suppose you’ve heard the news?’

      She nodded and sighed.

      ‘Will you let me in? I fancy drinking my cares away, though I fear they’ll still be here come morning.’

      ‘I can’t. Father said the other patrons would leave.’

      ‘I don’t have witchsign,’ he grunted. ‘There’s been a mistake.’

      Kristofine nodded again but she didn’t move. ‘He said you might say that. Why not stay home with your family?’

      ‘We had a fight.’ Steiner looked away, and for a moment he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find the words for the way he felt about Kjellrunn, Verner and Marek.

      Kristofine stepped forward and laid one hand against his arm. ’Why don’t you get comfortable in the stable?’ she said, breaking his introspection. ‘I’ll bring a jug of mead out to you?’

      ‘I’m not going to drink in the stable. I don’t have the witchsign and I’m not a horse.’

      ‘It’s drinking in the stable or no drinking at all. Now get in there and don’t let anyone see you.’

      Steiner gave a reluctant nod. He slunk around the outside of tavern in a daze; the stable was a ramshackle wooden building that squatted like a beggar at the rear of the building. The raucous voices from inside drew Steiner’s attention; for a moment he fancied he could hear his name. His eyes lingered on the light that glowed from beneath a shuttered window. He savoured the smells of old beer and the straw strewn on the ground, listened keenly for the rise and swell of laughter and the low din of conversation. Small chance there’d be any such comforts on the island.

      Steiner slipped through the stable door and found an empty stall. Kristofine had prepared in advance; two stools with a lantern and two tankards awaited them. An old horse blanket had been laid over the straw. She snuck into the stall behind him with a clay jug of mead and a mischievous smile.

      ‘I notice there are two tankards,’ said Steiner.

      ‘It’s a bad habit to drink alone,’ she replied, nestling on the blanket.

      Steiner looked at her. ‘Why do you care? Why do all this for me?’

      ‘All that time we had at school and I was too shy to talk to you. As we got older I worried about what the other girls would say.’

      ‘Because I can’t read,’ said Steiner, feeling the old shame.

      Kristofine shook her head and ignored his interruption. ‘Now you’re going, and I realize I should never have let shyness or people or anything else stop me from talking to you.’

      ‘But tonight? And me with witchsign and all.’

      ‘What’s it like?’

      ‘What is what like?’ Steiner frowned.

      ‘The witchsign, of course. What powers do you have?’

      Steiner gave a resigned chuckle and pressed a callused palm to his forehead. For a moment he thought he might give in to despairing tears. He closed his eyes tight to spare himself crying in front of Kristofine. He felt her warm hand on his, slowly prising his fingers away from his face.

      ‘Fewer questions, more drinking,’ she said and began to pour.

      ‘I don’t have the witchsign, I promise you. It’s that damned Hierarch and—’ But anything else he wanted to say was silenced as she pressed her lips to his.

      ‘I believe you,’ she said when the kiss was done. Steiner put aside all thoughts of Vladibogdan, the Synod and the Empire, determined he should have this last night for himself.

       CHAPTER FIVE

       Kjellrunn

       Though there is still much we do not understand, it has been documented that witchsign results in powers belonging to four schools, each with a ruling element. Telepathy and prescience are derived from those born with the element of wind, for example.

      – From the field notes of Hierarch Khigir, Vigilant of the Imperial Synod.

      Steiner’s departure marked the beginning of yet another long silence, a silence that Kjellrunn longed to shatter. She stood at the double doors to the smithy wanting to scream. She wanted the whole town to know of her frustration. She wanted to scream loud enough so the dead might hear her in Hel. She wanted to scream that Steiner come back and scream for the witchsign be taken away.

      Her eye rested on the few lanterns in the harbour, bobbing gently with the tide, revealing the location of the frigate, but not the form. She could feel the way sea swirled against the hull, just as she could feel the cold wind on her skin. Come the morning the blood-red ship would spirit Steiner away and there was nothing she could do about it.

      ‘Come in from the cold,’ said Marek, laying a hand on her shoulder СКАЧАТЬ