The City on the Edge

Alukorra circled three places on the map in the black scratchings of dense trees. Apparently, Liva moved around from time to time. They’d have to search the area and hope they got lucky. Lorna was hesitant to believe the story of Liva being unchained to the effects of magic, unlike every other witch in the world. Ronnie understood exactly how that disbelief felt. She hadn’t been too keen to accept what Alukorra was trying to sell her until she’d seen Jack stand in the midday sun without burning. Once Ronnie saw Jack stand there without bursting into flame, her skepticism was captured. She didn’t entirely trust them, but she couldn’t deny that something was happening in the world.

“She’s somewhere in here,” Jack was saying. “Be careful once you get past the lake.” He tapped on the blue spot. “The hellhounds live past there. I can’t tell you exactly where Liva will be since she moves so often. Now that her magic is no longer bound, she’s using the freedom the set up her own little habitat out there.”

Lorna scoffed. “You expect us to believe that this witch uses magic without aging? Or losing her mind?”

“Believe it, Red. Liva isn’t stupid, either. She’ll know why you’re there before the words leave your mouth.”

Alukorra rolled up the map and handed it to Ronnie. Her grip held firm when Ronnie tried to take it. “If you come across the hellhounds, try and convince them to help our cause. Hellhounds are invaluable fighters and there aren’t many left. They would be an asset.” She let go of the map. “Now, get going. It’s going to be a lot of work with just the two of you.”

“Three,” Lorna piped in.

Ronnie shot her a grateful smile but Lorna didn’t return it. “We aren’t leaving just yet,” Ronnie said as her smile faltered. “We’re going to the Hands of Providence to check on Anya.”

Alukorra looked like she wanted to argue but Catrine put a hand on her arm. She inclined her head with an expression Ronnie had seen on Hazel’s face before. Patient sternness. Catrine must be a mother, she thought.

“Fine,” Alukorra sighed, giving in. “I understand your worry. Go see your family and then leave.”

Bale nudged Ronnie and stared down at her with an intense silence, obviously communicating something that Ronnie didn’t understand. He held out a clawed hand and Ronnie, after a moment of awkward hesitation, grabbed a large talon and shook it like she would someone’s hand. Bale let out a huff of air which Ronnie thought could be laughter and dropped his hand. Clearly, she’d misinterpreted the silent giant’s wishes.

She turned to gather the others but Lorna was already striding out the door. Sebastian shrugged sheepishly. “I promise I didn’t say anything to her.”

“She’s broken hearted,” Jack said, watching after her. “She’ll learn to live with it. We all do.”

What do you know, Ronnie wanted to ask but she ignored him and followed after Lorna. She heard Sebastian say a polite goodbye behind her. Such manners.

Outside, Lorna was already halfway to the entrance of the Rust. She moved with deliberate purpose and Ronnie could see the tension bunched in her shoulders and the rigidness of her spine. It had been a long time since Lorna had been this angry with her. Ronnie took a few quick steps. She could easily catch up. Lorna was an angry witch marching with speed, but she still wasn’t as fast as a shifter, even one moving at a leisurely pace.

“Wait,” Sebastian called from behind her. “I’m coming.”

Ronnie turned to look at him. The proper human etiquette for dismissing one’s self apparently took a good couple of minutes. He tried to shut the door and catch up to her, but it stuck in its track. Ronnie looked from Lorna, who had reached the twisted metal makeshift gate of the Rust, to Sebastian, who struggled to close the door.

Hurry after Lorna or wait for Sebastian?

This felt like a decision she’d be making a lot in the coming days. Ronnie sighed and stood in place, listening to Sebastian apologize over the scrape of the metal door.

Lorna or Sebastian? Old friend or new face?

Her chest constricted when she thought about it. She didn’t want to choose. Couldn’t she have both?

***

Lorna waited for them outside the Hands of Providence, much to Ronnie’s surprise. The stone building had once been a temple, torn apart during Marla’s Battle when the worship of the old gods was outlawed by the humans. Even through the ravages of war, the building continued to hold an energy of power and an aura of peace that welcomed everyone through its doors. The small cluster of witches who called it home had done what they could to restore it without wasting too much power on it, vital power that could be used to heal the sick and wounded.

The tall spire that spun up from the red roof in a spiraled twist had been a favorite climbing place of Ronnie’s when she was younger. Eventually, the witches had convinced her that the hall was a place of healing and not a playground. It deserved the proper respect.

Lorna leaned against the wall with her arms folded across her chest. “Malik isn’t here,” she said as Ronnie and Sebastian approached.

“Where is he?”

“Apparently, there wasn’t much the hands could do, so he took Anya home.”

Ronnie furrowed her brow. That made no sense. He took her home? Sloan had already found her there once, what was stopping him from marching to the house and taking her again?

And if the Hands of Providence couldn’t heal Anya, then who could?

“I’m going to talk to them.”

Lorna shrugged but Ronnie could tell by the stiffness of her muscles that she was just as concerned. Losing Anya was a frightening thought.

Ronnie ducked through the door. The barest hint of morning sunlight filtered in through the cracked windows, leaving the temple shrouded in still darkness. Since the temple was no longer used for worship, the pews had been removed and replaced with rows of thin cots. A few of them were occupied and Ronnie was actually pleased that there weren’t that many sick for the witches.

It would be different if those on Poor Street were welcome here, but the Blue Sickness wasn’t something the Hands of Providence could cure. They had tried in the past with no success. Having the infected in the temple would only lead to the spread of the illness. It became a necessary cruelty to keep them away.

One of the witches, a plump old woman of short stature with a head of curly grey hair and a face of wrinkles, bustled from bed to bed with a pitcher of water and a clay cup in her hand. Ronnie walked toward her as quietly as she could. She didn’t want to disturb the sick.

“Excuse me?” Ronnie spoke as loud as she dared.

The witch turned, a serene smile on her face. She was barely Ronnie’s height and probably close to her in years, though the magic had taken its toll. “Yes? Do you need assistance?”

“Um, no. I’m not sick. My brother, Malik, was here earlier with our sister. She’s very ill.”

“They were witches?” she asked. Her green eyes rose to meet Ronnie’s and she knew that she was comparing the relation between two witches and a shifter. She didn’t ask any questions though and smiled warmly at Ronnie. Orphans forming their own families with each other wasn’t anything new in the Edge.

“Yes. Two witches.”

“Yes, they were here.” The witch sighed, her pleasant smile withering into a frown. “I’m afraid we couldn’t help the girl. It was like our magic was being repelled by something. I wish we could have done more for her, but we had no choice but to send her away. Without knowing what made her so ill, or if it was contagious…we just couldn’t risk it.” She motioned toward the occupied beds.

A flicker of anger threaded its way through Ronnie and she clenched her fists. No one could help Anya? “You just sent her home?” Ronnie forced the words past her clenched jaw. “To die?”

The witch picked up on her anger. She set the pitcher and cup down on a nearby table and folded her hands in front of her. “Yes. I’m sorry, child, but there was nothing we could do.”

A growl escaped Ronnie’s lips before she could squash it down. “So that’s it, then?”

It’s not her fault. She did what she could. It’s not her fault.

The witch didn’t react at Ronnie’s barely contained fury, she simply tilted her head sadly and watched Ronnie with sympathetic eyes. “I’m so sorry. Losing those we hold dear is never easy.”

Before Ronnie could speak again, a curious force prodded gently at her chest, as if someone were standing directly in front of her, arms wrapped around her, asking after her wellbeing.

“Ronnie?” a voice veiled in sweetness asked from the doorway.

“Oh my,” the witch breathed. Her eyes grew wide when Sebastian stepped inside. “A human.”

Sebastian smiled politely. “Hello.” He looked at Ronnie questioningly. “Are you okay?”

Ronnie tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. Was she okay? She flexed her hands, feeling the anger slowly ebb away with each inhale she took of stale temple air and Sebastian’s sugary scent.

“I’m fine. They couldn’t help her.” Her voice cracked. It hurt to say the words out loud. “Malik probably went home because of Hazel. She’s one of the best healers there is.”

The witch wasn’t offended by the statement and instead nodded. “The young man did say he was going home. You should go too. I’m not sure that she has much time left. Spend these final moments with her.”

Sebastian thanked her and they joined Lorna outside. She hadn’t moved from her spot, though her arms hung at her sides. Ronnie didn’t spare her a word and started off down the road towards home. If Lorna wanted to be angry, then fine. There were more important things to worry about.