Witch Hunter (36 page)

revenant rips your arm off.’

‘Double that says she takes his head.’

‘A sovereign says the revenant rips her arm off first, then

she takes his head.’

They start cheering and throwing more coins around.

‘Come on,’ John says. ‘I had to give the captain nearly

everything I’ve got just to let us on board. If we keep this

330

up, he’ll throw us right back off.’ He looks around. ‘Let’s

go to the back. You’ – he points at Schuyler – ‘if there’s even

a hint of trouble out of you, I’ll throw you off this ship

myself. Got it?’

‘Always so pleasant, John,’ Schuyler mutters. ‘No wonder

she likes you so much.’

A flicker of surprise passes over John’s face. Then he

scowls. ‘Go.’

I pull the sword away from Schuyler’s neck and the five

of us thread through the men, who boo and catcall after us,

around crates and cannons until we reach the back. One by

one we climb the narrow wooden stairs to the upper deck.

It’s quiet back here, nothing but piles of rope, more cannons,

and barrels of gunpowder.

I look around at all of them. ‘What is going on?’

Fifer sits down on a coil of rope. ‘It’s about your test.’

‘What about it?’

‘That night after you told us about it, and after you

went to sleep, Humbert, John, George and I talked about it.

How it works, the magic of it.’

‘And?’

‘Well, from what you’ve told me, the test sounds like a

combination of spells. Rather, a spell within a spell. The first

was concealment, obviously: hiding the tablet behind a

simple wooden door. Then there was the illusion.’

‘It wasn’t an illusion,’ I say. ‘It was real.’

‘It was an illusion,’ she says. ‘But that doesn’t mean it

331

wasn’t real. You saw it, felt it, reacted to it. That’s what

made it real. Your fear is what made it real.’

‘Then there’s no difference.’

Fifer shakes her head. ‘Yes, there is. There’s a big

difference. Because when you’re inside an illusion, you can

– if you’re very skilled or very lucky – make yourself believe

it isn’t real. By doing so, you eliminate the fear, which

eliminates the illusion. Wasn’t that the point of the test? To

eliminate your fear?’

‘Yes.’

Fifer nods. ‘That’s what happened when you sang.

You calmed yourself down long enough to see it wasn’t

real. That’s why you saw the tablet instead of the door.

You saw through the illusion. You’re going to need to do

that again.’

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘So I do the exact same thing I did before,

only now I do it knowing how the spell works.’

I look around at the others. George is sitting now, knees

tucked under his chin. John is staring out at the water, arms

folded, jaw clenched. Schuyler looks from Fifer to me, his

eyes going wide.

‘Is there something I’m missing?’

Fifer takes a breath. ‘Do you know if the other witch

hunters had the same test as you?’

‘I – no. Everyone had something different.’

None of us talked about our tests, but it wasn’t hard to

figure out what they were. The things people screamed in

332

their sleep, the things they avoided when they were awake.

Caleb never told me about his, but I guessed it had to do

with drowning. It was a solid month before I could get him

to bathe, and even now he cringes when it rains.

‘That means the test is a spell that responds specifically

to a person’s fear. That’s really advanced magic, you know.

Blackwell must be extremely powerful—’ She breaks off

with a grimace. ‘What was yours? Your fear, I mean?’

‘I already told you.’

‘I know, but…are you really afraid of being buried alive?’

‘Well, I am now,’ I snap. ‘But no. At the time, I—’ I

hesitate. I don’t want to tell them what I’m afraid of. It feels

like admitting to something bigger.

‘What was it?’ Fifer presses.

I turn away from them, towards the water. I can feel

their eyes on me anyway.

‘I was afraid of being alone.’ My voice is quiet, small. I

don’t know if they can hear me over the sound of the men

shouting on deck or the waves lapping against the ship’s

hull, but I keep going. ‘Of dying alone. Caleb says we all

die alone, but I don’t think that’s true, not really. It’s

different to face it alone. To know that no one is coming,

that no one will ever come. To know it’s just you and that’s

all it’ll ever be—’

I break off then, turn around to find the four of them

staring at me, a chorus of horror and fear and sympathy on

their faces.

333

‘Are you still afraid of that?’ Fifer says. Her voice is as

quiet as mine.

‘I don’t know.’ I close my eyes against their unrelenting

stares. ‘I don’t know what I’m afraid of anymore. I don’t see

why it matters, anyway.’

‘It matters a lot,’ she says. ‘Because what if the tomb isn’t

the same this time? What if your fear isn’t? There’s no

telling what you’ll have to face in there. What happens if

singing doesn’t work?’

I feel my eyes go wide. I hadn’t considered that. I never

imagined the tomb might be different. Never imagined it

might be worse.

‘I don’t know what condition you’re going to be in, after

it’s over,’ Fifer continues. ‘You’re also weaker now than you

were then, when you were training every day, and you’re

hurt. If Schuyler is there, he can help you destroy the tablet.

Besides you, he’s the only one strong enough to do it.’

I turn to him. ‘You agreed to this? Why?’

Schuyler sighs. And for once he doesn’t look amused or

indifferent. For once I can see the years and the things he

knows flash across his eyes, a dark shadow behind the blue.

‘Because Fifer asked it of me,’ he says. ‘Because I don’t

want her going in there alone. Because I don’t want Nicholas

to die. Because I think Blackwell is more dangerous than

any of us know. Because if I don’t, I’m going to be hunted

as much as you are.’ He shrugs. ‘I’ve got a very long life

ahead of me. I don’t want to spend it running.’

334

I sink down on the deck and draw my knees to my chin.

No one says anything; there’s nothing to say. But after a

minute George scoots next to me and puts his arm around

my shoulder.

‘You’re going to be fine,’ he says firmly. ‘I told the others:

anyone who can take on Hastings and live to talk about it

can take on anything.’

I let out a shaky laugh. ‘Maybe that’s what the test will

be. A ghost, a basket of flour and a brace of dead fowl.’ Fifer

and Schuyler smile.

But when I look at John, he’s not smiling at all.

The sun begins to set. The waters around us go calm, but

the sailors on board grow loud. A few bring out instruments,

a violin and a lute, and begin warbling off-key tunes. Others

begin a loud game of cards on deck. Another group starts

throwing dice.

George stands up. ‘I think I’ll try to get in on that card

game,’ he says. ‘Try to win back our passage money. Anyone

feel like staking me?’

John pulls out a couple of coins and tosses them to him.

‘This is all I have left. Try not to lose it all in the first hand.’

George looks shocked. ‘Me? Lose? I think not. I’ll have

our money back within the hour – just you wait.’ He winks

at me and gallops down the stairs.

‘I think I’ll go for a walk around deck,’ Schuyler says.

‘Gaze at the moonlight and all that. If that’s all right with

335

you.’ He looks at John. ‘Wouldn’t want to anger the warden.’

John shrugs. ‘As long as Fifer goes with you. And as long

as she keeps a sword on you at all times.’

Fifer snatches the Azoth off the deck and pokes the blade

against Schuyler’s back.

‘Fiesty.’ Schuyler grins. ‘Shall we?’ He holds his arm out

for Fifer. They walk down the stairs and across the deck,

their heads together, whispering.

I turn to John. ‘You let them go off together?’

He shrugs. ‘Clearly, they go off together all the time.

I haven’t been able to stop it yet and I’m not likely to. At

least I can make sure she’s armed.’

I smile. Then I realise he’s left here alone with me. No

doubt the last place in the world he’d want to be.

‘I guess I’ll just go to sleep now,’ I say.

John lifts an eyebrow. ‘Are you trying to tell me to leave?’

‘I – no,’ I say. ‘I suppose I’m just saying you don’t have

to stay.’

‘I’m fine,’ John says. ‘But I am hungry. Are you?’

‘I guess. Maybe. I don’t know.’

He smiles a little. ‘It’s really a yes or no question.’

‘Yes.’

‘All right. I’ll be back.’ I watch him go. I don’t know why

he cares if I’m hungry or not. I suppose because he knows

in order to keep Nicholas alive, he needs to keep me alive.

Which includes keeping me fed. I can’t take it to mean

anything but.

336

He returns a few minutes later, carrying a bundle of

cloth. He unwraps it and lays the contents in front of me.

Cheese, figs, apples, ham, a loaf of bread, a flask of water.

‘No cake,’ he says. ‘Sorry. But I did ask.’

I blink. ‘No, this is perfect.’

‘Dig in, then.’

After we eat, he clears everything away and settles on the

deck beside me, his back against the wooden railing. He

takes a drink of water from the flask and passes it to me.

We’re quiet for a while, listening to the music on the deck

and the sound of the water washing against the hull.

‘How did Caleb know you were here?’ John says, finally.

‘He said Blackwell had a seer.’

John nods. ‘We knew that. Or figured it, anyway. Does

he know we’re going to the masque? Was that why he was

here? To try to stop you?’

‘No. And I don’t think Blackwell knows, either. If he did,

he wouldn’t have sent Caleb. He would have just waited.

Caleb came because he wanted me to witch-hunt for him

again. He said if I went against Blackwell, he wouldn’t be

able to save me. He said—’ I stop.

‘What?’

‘He said if I didn’t come back with him, I was on

my own.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I—’ I swallow hard. ‘I said good-bye.’ I look at my

feet and go quiet. John doesn’t say anything. But I can

337

feel his eyes on me in the moonlight.

‘Do you love him?’ he asks suddenly.

The question startles me so much that I drop the flask to

the deck, water splashing on my feet. John quickly scoops it

up and recorks it.

‘He was my family,’ I say. ‘Of course I love him.’

‘I didn’t mean in that way.’

I think about it. Caleb was my best friend; he was

my whole life. There was a time when I thought I loved

him as more than a friend, hoped he might love me back.

But I knew he found me lacking. Not pretty enough, not

ambitious enough. Not enough, period. For all I fought it, I

knew we were becoming different people. That the only

thing that kept us together was my dependence on him

and his sense of duty to me. And when I said goodbye to

him today, I knew – deep down, I knew – he was relieved

to see me go.

I glance at John. His eyes are fixed on the deck in front

of him, but I know he’s listening. I can see in how still he is,

the set of his shoulders, the way he grips the flask in his

hand, that he’s listening.

‘No.’

He looks up then, and for a minute we just look at

each other.

‘Why did you ask me that?’

He takes a breath. Looks out at the water, a crease

forming between his eyebrows. When he looks back at me,

338

his eyes are as dark and still and deep as the sea around us.

‘I wanted to know. That’s all. I guess I just needed

to know.’

‘Oh,’ I say. We fall quiet again. And even in the silence

it feels as if he’s trying to tell me something and I him,

but neither of us knows what. Or if we do, we’re too afraid

to say it.

‘You should get some sleep,’ he says, finally. His voice is

very quiet. ‘I brought you a blanket.’ He pulls it out of his

bag and hands it to me. It’s thick and grey and smells of salt

and cedar, like the ship.

‘Okay,’ I say, my voice equally quiet. ‘Thank you.’

I lie down on the deck, tuck my bag under my head and

pull the blanket up to my chin.

But I can’t sleep. My thoughts are full of Caleb and John

and Blackwell and the tomb, wondering what’s going to

happen. But there’s no point. Every time I imagine one

thing, something worse comes along to replace it. I don’t