Chapter XXXVIII (38) - The Coven

  “It was hardly my fault,” Basil complained. “I threw one small fireball at them as a deterrent. How was I supposed to know it would land in a haystack?”

  They’d rendezvoused with the shapeshifter at their camp from last night. He’d thankfully escaped, largely thanks to Mort interfering and jumping him out of sight. Apparently Fuku did not take kindly to him impersonating her mother. Rou, her familiar, circled around and caught sight of him nearly a dozen times before they finally managed to shake them off.

  “I can’t believe you burned down Old Man Hinata’s house,” Mitsuko said, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Oh, um. Well it was the middle of the day, he wasn’t probably home, right?”

  “He’s a woodsman,” Kizu said. “Likely out chopping trees.”

  “Oh good.” Basil chuckled nervously. “And that explains why the house burned so easily though, right? Lots of wood.”

  Mitsuko frowned and looked at Kizu.

  “Do you know Hinata? Was he a friend of the crone?”

  Kizu mentally kicked himself. Mitsuko knew that he was raised by the crone, but not that he’d spent days upon days spying on them through her divination spells.

  “Passing acquaintance,” Kizu said quickly. “He’s in the jungle a lot, inspecting trees.”

  Mitsuko accepted that answer and they moved onto filling Basil in on what had happened on their end with Hone. Their next step was to connect with the local Hon coven.

  “Hm. Witches? I don’t suppose they're fond of black pointy hats with wide brims? I’ve always had a soft spot for pointy hats.”

  “I don’t think that’s in fashion here in Hon.”

  “Yes,” Basil grumbled. “I am well aware that people here hate pointy hats. I had hoped for a small oasis of culture in this isolated sect out in the desert of fashion disasters.”

  “You don’t like Hon fashion?” Mitsuko asked, sounding hurt.

  “No, no, no,” Basil quickly recanted. “I love a good kimono, far more than the next guy. They’re gorgeous and diverse pieces of artwork manifested. Some of the most beautiful clothing in the world originates from Hon. But there’s also still so much more out there! I mean, I doubt you’ve ever even heard of a turban.”

  “Let’s refocus,” Kizu said. “Basil, are you sure you’re okay joining us? These aren’t mages to be messed with lightly. Covens are notoriously dangerous.”

  Basil waved away his warnings.

  “Just give me another serving of soup. I swear I burned off half my available fat dashing through the forest.”

  For the rest of the day, everyone worked on their own individual projects. Basil started sewing together a ‘witch’ outfit for himself with cloth he’d someone managed to filch from the village. Ione reviewed her notes about goroles and started designing a summoning circle for the creature while Mitsuko watched with fascination. And, with Anata’s help, Kizu went off to the side and practiced spells.

  He wished he could ask Wakino for more advice on what to work on next or teach him a new technique like telekinesis, but he just focused on strengthening what she’d already taught him so far. Physical barriers were extremely versatile and he tested different strategies and scenarios.

  Testing his speed, Anata tossed a rotting fruit at him and he intercepted it, the fruit squashing in front of him right before it landed. His barriers weren’t as fast as he’d like, but he did still manage to block. He wondered if he could change the barrier’s density. Could he make something bounce back at an enemy? It was something to consider down the line.

  The next morning they followed Hone’s directions as they set off for the hill the coven convened on. It wasn’t too far, but they took their time as they traveled. With his spellsense active, Kizu spotted more than one trap designed to hex anyone passing through.

  They finally reached a thicket of trees and bushes that marked the edge of the hill. From an outside perspective, it looked completely impassable without bush whacking and clearing a path. Basil offered to toss another fireball, but Kizu shut that idea down and stepped forward.

  “Hguorht em tel,” Kizu said. It sounded like his mouth was full of marbles, but the words worked.

  The bushes and trees parted slightly. Only, Kizu quickly realized it only looked that way. In reality, he watched with his spellsense as a gap in space pushed everything around it apart, allowing them access. Kizu identified it as a complex spatial enchantment put on the ground circling the hill.

  The group walked through the path and the foliage closed behind them as they stepped onto a grassy hill. Massive stone slabs, slightly tilted, crowned the hill’s submit and several old women looked down the hill at them. They wore weathered clothing that looked nothing like Basil’s outlandish ‘witch’ clothing. Thankfully, the shapeshifter had at least had the good sense to appear as a woman for the day.

  A hag Kizu recognized jumped in front of him and sneered. She pointed a crooked finger at him and poked his cheek. He did his best to keep his face placid and devoid of emotion as she jabbed at him.

  “Hm, who’s this at the party’s head? Kaga Kizu? You should be dead.”

  “Death can certainly be arranged,” another witch said. “After all, his master is now estranged.”

  She was accompanied by ten more women. Like predators eyeing their prey, they circled Kizu’s group. Kizu felt Mitsuko press her back against his arm, shivering, as she stared at the witches. Then they all started speaking at once.

  “No dinner preparations as of yet.”

  “His friends look rather scrumptious.”

  “Imbecilic fish have flung themselves into our net.”

  “A primate familiar? How redundant.”

  “Intriguing. What a bizarre union.”

  “That hatted one isn’t human.”

  “Ah, I know it well, a slime once essential.”

  “A villager. I know her. Hm. She has great potential.”

  “It’s her apprentice. Why are you here?”

  “I claim that one’s irises.”

  “Kaga, you belong naught amongst her peers.”

  “Her ilk brings nothing but viruses.”

  “Interlopers.”

  “Wayward fools.”

  “Vile monsters.”

  “Sekai’s tools.”

  “Those pretty eyes would be a nice addition to my hoard.”

  “State your purpose, for we soon grow bored.”

  Kizu gulped as the witches surrounded them. But he held his ground. The old ladies were terrifying, but he knew several of them and he was relatively aware of what they could and could not do to him. Small comfort when they knew spells to turn his bones to jelly.

  “I am here to talk to you about your apprentices,” he said, his voice only quavered a little.

  One of the witches stepped forward, eyeing him with an oversized sickly yellow eye.

  “Nothing more than phlegm.” She spat. “What say you of them?”

  “The ones who joined with the necromancers to form the Death Party.”

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  “My apprentice did nothing of the sort,” said another witch. “I discipline disobedient children, unlike my cohort.”

  A few of the others hissed at the woman.

  “What else is there to say?” the yellow-eyed woman asked. “We have no time for children who do not obey.”

  “They’re preparing a potion,” Kizu said. “It’s not one I’m familiar with and I hoped you might be willing to identify it for me.”

  “Bah, why should we? You interrupted our ceremony.”

  “The equinox is still several days away,” Ione said. “We interrupted you gossiping and skulking about. Hardly actions worth mentioning, let alone important.”

  Kizu winced. He would never speak like that to the crone. But the woman chortled and eyed Ione with new found interest.

  “Because,” Kizu said, “We are going to stop them from doing whatever it is they’re trying to accomplish.”

  “Why should we care about that? We have no interest in your spat.”

  “Are you saying you want them to be successful? Those girls who betrayed your trust and ran off? What I’m offering is nice and easy revenge.”

  Witches were petty and lazy. Kizu knew from the few looks exchanged that he at least had a few of them intrigued. Time to add a tiny bit more sugar to the deal.

  “And, I have enough authority with the government that I can make sure any apprentices captured alive will be delivered to you, to your door or this hill or wherever else you’d like.”

  “You lie.” A witch snorted. “You have no connections nor spies.”

  Another witch opened her mouth, her eyes filled with malice. A rival of the crone.

  “Nothing-”

  “I’ll drink a truth potion,” Kizu interrupted. “Just hand it to me.”

  Kizu hadn’t wanted to lead with the offer, but now that enough of them were interested, he could risk drinking an unknown potion. Enough of the others would be pissed off if he died or got transformed that nobody would poison him. Probably.

  When a familiar younger witch with dark purple hair shoved a green bottle into his hands, he still paused, his heart racing. If they asked him about the Harbingers he wouldn’t be able to lie. But that was unlikely to come up. And he couldn’t back down now. He uncorked it and downed the liquid. It tasted foul, like chunky rotten eggs. It had been a long time since the crone last forced him to drink one of these.

  “Good. A fine brew by the potion makers.” A witch leered at him. “Now let’s start with a test. Any takers?”

  “I ask something uniquely indisputable. Of those among you, who’s the most beautiful?”

  “Ione,” Kizu said automatically. He felt Mitsuko and Basil’s glares on the back of his head as his cheeks reddened.

  “Your reason for this claim? And do not attempt to shift the blame.”

  “Her personality.” Then he tried to hold back the next words but only managed to choke for a second before words sputtered out. “And her…upper body.”

  The witches cackled and jeered at him. Kizu kept his eyes forward on the witches, he did not want to see Ione’s face right now.

  “She’s nearly flat! Barely a teaspoon of fat,” one of them whooped. “Come over to me for a tussle, and I’ll give you something real to suckle.”

  “Ask your questions,” Kizu growled. “Truth serums don’t keep me from walking away. Or from jumping into your spine.”

  “Ha! Nothing more than a self-obsessed worm. You believe you can do more than squirm?”

  “Enough chattering without grace,” the purple haired witch interrupted. “This is my potion to waste.”

  The other witches gave way to her and she peered into Kizu’s eyes.

  “I invoke a rite passed through the years, I now question you alongside my peers. I demand those secrets you keep. Which apprentices did you meet?”

  “Chiame and Fuku are the only two I know by name.”

  “Fuku’s is certainly problematic. Do you know where her mother is at?”

  “No.”

  “Now for your master. Where is that ancient caster?”

  “She’s in Keimusho Prison. I saw no other witches there when I visited her last week.”

  That got the witches muttering. But they knew he couldn’t lie.

  “How did they capture her in a snare? For what grand purpose is she there?”

  “The Hon Elites captured her nearly six months ago. But I believe that she let herself be found. She mentioned wanting a place to relax and not be disturbed.”

  “Ha. That sounds precisely like her. Mark me, this is nothing but a sinister lure.” The purple haired witch turned to look at the others, opening the discussion to their questions.

  “I step forward and demand an answer. Why do you wish to end our wayward cancers?”

  “Because they’re going to kill innocent lives. And my friend is in danger from them. And…because I’m curious about a person they were with.”

  “Oh? Who?”

  “Me.”

  That caught the attention of the entire coven. Side conversations cut short as they eyed him.

  “You’re here to double cross us?”

  “No!”

  “You believe us witless as dust?”

  “No!”

  “Then why would you answer thus?”

  Kizu struggled to explain. “There’s a copy of me. A clone maybe. I saw it speaking to Necro.”

  “Oh. A shapeshifter. They’re all only one in the same. Bah, I would think her apprentice would know better than be curious about something so mundane.”

  Kizu didn’t correct her. It hadn’t been a question. He’d rather avoid the topic of the missing piece of his soul.

  “My turn to ask while he’s under your charm. Answer me, boy, do you harbor malice or intend any of us harm?”

  “Only the one who insulted Ione.”

  That got them all cackling and the seriousness of the moment vanished.

  “I ask you this, as your presence’s payment. Were you truthful in your earlier statements?”

  “Everything I said to your coven tonight was true,” Kizu said. Earlier statements could mean so much.

  “Who has enough authority to back your words? Your friends alone? Absurd.”

  “The Emperor. And his niece.”

  That caused another stir in the crowd.

  “Interesting,” the bulbous yellow-eyed witch said. “Perhaps you might serve as a decent spy. Tell me, did you witness the previous emperor die?”

  “No. I was unconscious next to him when I killed him.”

  “When you killed him? Ha! The odds of that are mighty slim.”

  “Yes. It was an accident. He was transformed into a ghoul.”

  “Ah. A ghoul. Interesting indeed. That might be possible, given enough strength and speed. Looks like we had a royal assassin in our midst. Your master must be incredibly proud of her foul cyst.”

  “Intriguing. Many have heard whispers of the ghouls. All the better to understand the plans of that necromancer fool.”

  “On that topic, what did your master teach you? I assume you at least know more than basic instructions for a stew.”

  “The crone focused on teaching me the basics of brews and illusions.”

  “What of your repertoire of hexes? For every witch, that is their nexus.”

  “None.”

  That sent another ripple through the crowd. A few of them chortled.

  “He is either deluded or makes a jest. Ten years with her and never learned a hex? Ha!”

  “I see in him, he knows,” one called out. “Though his thoughts do not flow.”

  “What?” Kizu said, confused.

  The witch coven understood the statement though and they all began to cackle madly. One threw a crocheting needle at him. Not hard, but it still hurt as it bounced off the back of his head.

  “She covered it all up. Mental blocks to make it all muck. An idiot boy who hasn’t noticed he’s stuck.”

  Kizu froze. A mental block over his memories with the crone? What exactly did they mean? Over the last half of a year the thought of hexing someone never even crossed his mind. But…what they said made sense. And what else could be locked away. He needed to prioritize finding a skilled mental mage once he got out of the basin.

  “Not important to our objective. Let’s now hear her student’s perspective. You claim to know much on the subject of brewing. Tell us about this concoction and the trouble our apprentices are ensuing”

  Kizu did so, recounting everything to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, he couldn’t give any input about smell or the process in which it had been created beyond the clockwise stirring motion he witnessed. Still he described everything about it visually, down to the vapors.

  “Another ghoul concoction,” one of the witches said. “It should be no shock then.”

  Kizu’s eyes widened. He and his companions were the only ones surprised though, the witches all looked like they’d predicted as much.

  “On that scale?” he said. “There was so much. Wouldn’t they need to release it?”

  Then he thought about how they’d released it before. An explosion. Smog. That was bad.

  “Smuggling that quantity into the middle of the city is near impossible,” the purple haired witch said dismissively. “Just another fool’s errand. They should have prepared it on a site more proximal.”

  “The city has those sniffer creatures that investigate strong magical signatures,” the yellow-eyed witch said. “They’re all over the city. And those divination artifacts scattered in the street by litigators. I suppose they could prepare several small explosions across the city at a concurrent time. But that havoc will only last a few days at most before quarantined and benign. And ever more points of weakness place them in a bind.”

  “Unless they entered from below,” Kizu said. He felt cold as he realized something. Necro hadn’t been after him when they’d met. No. Necro had used their meeting as a distraction to attack the crone’s hut. He’d been after Kizu’s atlas and bell.

  “Something to specify? Eh? We demand you clarify.”

  “They’re going to set off the explosion in the World Dungeon. Everyone above will be exposed to the vapors. The smog will spread throughout the entire city.”

  He paused while he considered just how catastrophic that would be. The nation’s capital corrupted. World leaders from different continents assembled for the coronation.

  “Everyone will die,” he said quietly.

  Ten Blood Curse Academia chapters (5 weeks) ahead of Royal Road on Patreon.