“If I wanted to, I could kill one too,” I mutter.
Fynn tells me to follow him, and I do so as I stare once more into the shadows, but nothing betrays the eyes I saw there before. I am sure of it. I saw those dark eyes and heard that deep, smoky voice. The Silent Fortress, that’s what the demon said, to find him there. There was comfort in his voice; it awakened a longing inside me—a hidden feeling I wanted to satisfy. I repeat the wording like a mantra until it’s engraved in my mind—The Silent Fortress.
I follow my brother meekly through a maze of small, cozy streets away from the grand square. Mother wasn’t joking when she said Valorya is a city—a large one. I have never seen anything like this in my life. The streets are decorated with various graycobblestones laid down in ornamental patterns. The buildings feature dramatic Gothic architecture, with arched windows that, ironically, display light, magical, and nature-like images in stained glass. The same magic that almost made all of them extinct, as if it’s a reminder never to underestimate the Light that could outbalance the Dark once more.
Even if most—if not all— light is destroyed, the vast number of humans I see amazes me: shells of humans, and also humans who seem to enjoy interacting with their ruinous masters, almost as if they have chosen this life.
I stick to my brother as we round a corner and enter an inn. I lift an eyebrow as I eye my new surroundings. The woodwork is dark mahogany with baroque designs. The floor, the bar, the tables, and the chairs are all made of that same polished wood. Each piece of furniture is carved with symbols and ornaments I have never seen. The curtains in front of the stained-glass windows show dark roses with brown thorns and green leaves, woven into the thick, dark, velvety red fabric. Along the sides is an even darker red lace. It almost reminds me of a brothel, but something about this place exudes a sense of refinement. Next to the bar is a “tap” where several humans, male and female, of different ages, stand naked. Vampires and witches alike order whichever tap has their preference. It’s both perverted and intriguing at the same time. None of the humans seem to be in pain or cry out if one of the night creatures pays extra to drink directly from the tap; some choose the wrist, and others prefer a neck or breast. It’s fascinating. They differ significantly from the creatures we encountered in the towns and villages below The Wailing Forest. It almost seems… civilized, as far as you can call the children of the night civilized. Shadowy creatures leap from the bar back to their owners once they’re satisfied with their fill. The light inside is dim, casting shadows everywhere, creatingplaces for those who cannot walk in the day or for those who simply choose to sit in the dark.
My brother pushes me harshly up the stairs through a door where Mother is waiting. Her arms crossed before her chest.
“I told you before, Harlot, your curious nature is going to get you killed someday!” she shouts at me.
I apologize swiftly, and she calms down. Mother tugs at her sleeves, then straightens her shoulders as if looking for confidence to tell us what she wants to say. I look around the room; it’s small, with three beds, a small desk with a chair, a cabinet for our clothes, and a tiny bathroom. I wonder how Mother pays for it, but I don’t dare ask. She never tells us how she gets her coins; all we know is that she takes care of us.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll head out to find a place for us in this city—a place where we can settle for some time,” she looks at my brother, then at me. “I know this is not what you both expected, but I need more time… I just need more time, and this is the best I can do for now, so you two can settle down, at least for a little while. No more traveling, I can promise that.”
She glances at us with teary eyes. I know she makes that promise with a heavy heart, hoping she can uphold at least one of her promises.
“I’ll be gone for several days,” she says. “Please stay out of trouble, especially you, Harlot. Don’t let that curious nature get the best of you. I’ll be back within three or four days.”
She pinches my cheeks lovingly, and I grimace. As I mull over her words, question after question arises. Where is she going that requires her to be away from us for so many days? Where will she stay if she’s just looking for a place for us to live? Did she pay for the room that many days in advance? What about our food? More importantly, will she leave the books with us? I hope she trusts us enough to let the books linger. If shedoes, all I need to do is wait until Fynn gets bored and decides to do something, and I'll be on my best behavior, protecting our stuff as I immerse myself in everything the books have to say. I smile to myself; maybe this is the opportunity I’ve waited for.
“What about the magic, Mother?” Fynn asks, “Will it keep us safe without you here? Doesn’t it depend on us being near each other?”
I can hear a hint of fear in his voice. Mother just nods, but Fynn is not letting go so quickly, and I wonder the same thing.
“You just yelled at Harlot for staying behind, away from us, and now you’re going to the old Gods know where, and you just nod? How do you know if it’ll keep us safe? We’ve never been separated before! How do you even know how it works? Because we sure as hell don’t have an idea because you never tell us a damn thing!”
I can see the frustration on Fynn’s face at Mother’s lack of confirmation. This is now the second time that he has lashed out at our mother. The uncertainty is starting to take hold of both of us, turning into irritation. We do not understand how the magic protects us, yet we run, but we have no clue who we are running from. To soothe him, Mother confirms we will be safe.
“When you two were younger, I’d leave you behind by yourselves all the time while you were asleep. It was the only time I could run my errands without interruptions. The magical protection does not depend on whether we are close by or not. You do not need me by your side; I can promise you that, my dear Fynn. You’ll both be fine when I’m away. Just… Fynn… don’t go out and kill any vampires, please. And Harlot… don’t get yourself into any trouble. Stay here at the inn, don’t go out and venture. Fynn… keep an eye out for your sister, please.”
I frown at her statement that she would leave her young children behind in critter-infested towns. She does not expand further on her little tale, and I can’t help but ponder if it’s just afable to make both of us shut our mouths. As always, we have no choice but to trust our mother.
“Let's get some sleep; it’s been a long day with lots of impressions.”
She gives me a small smile, then undresses and gets into bed. She pulls the thick blanket up to her chin and turns around. Within seconds, all I hear is her soft snoring. Conversation ended.
I eye Fynn swiftly, who seems lost in his own train of thought. I pick a bed and lie down. The mattress and cotton blankets are incredibly soft and comfortable. My aching body releases the stress and pain as I start to relax. I stare at the ceiling as I repeat my new mantra in my mind:The Silent Fortress.
DIARY ENTRIES:
Time is going too fast. I can’t do this. Why do you do this? Do you enjoy my misery and pain? Is that what you get from me writing this all down? I hate you. The twins are almost 3 months old already, and before I know it, they will start talking and walking and… I can’t do this.
6 months. I can’t doubt this feeling. I love Keir, and I need my family. Please, I beg you.
Unraveling a Witch
FYNN
Chapter 5
As I turn around on the firm mattress, pulling the soft, warm blanket around me, I notice the empty beds next to me. Both of them are empty. I’m instantly up and look around the dimly lit room. The beds are neatly made, almost as if neither of them had slept there. I curse internally. Damn Harlot. The moment Mother lifted herself from the bed, I am sure Harlot tiptoed right after her without Mother even noticing her presence. I’m so done with her antics; she can save herself for once. I hope she gets killed so I don’t have to do it.
I lie back down and try to fall back asleep, but the idea of my sister wandering around in this forsaken city filled to the brim with bloodsuckers and blood-wielders makes me uncomfortably anxious. I twist and turn, forcing myself to keep my eyes closed, but the thoughts consume me. If someone ends her life, it should be me, not some fucking vampire or witch.
I shake off the image as quickly as it comes: I do not want my sister dead, especially not at my hands. I repeat the sentence over and over in my head and grumble as I throw off the blanket and sit upright. I massage my temples to fend off the oncomingheadache my sister bestows upon me as my stomach growls from the hunger. I wonder where we can eat; Mother didn’t say a word about that. I did see food on some of the carts in the square. I guess the witches eat regular food as well. I see a pile of coins at the side of my bed and a little note scribbled by Mother. Apparently, this inn caters to human needs as well. I shower quickly, pull on fresh clothes, and saunter downstairs. It’s not as busy as it was yesterday, but there is still a steady stream of clientele. I go to the bar to ask about the food and something to drink, but the girl behind the counter waves me off and tells me to keep my distance.
