Witch Hunter (16 page)

finally catch on. ‘It has to do with his curse, doesn’t it?’

George scowls. ‘How d’you know about that?’

‘John told me.’ He raises his eyebrows at that. But I go

on. ‘So that’s it, isn’t it? There’s a wizard cursing Nicholas,

and you want me to find him and take him out?’

He shrugs. ‘I dunno. I mean, now that I know what you

are, it seems the most likely possibility. We’ll find out for

sure tonight.’

I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I can’t find your

wizard for you. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in a lot of

trouble. I have to get out of here.’

‘How exactly d’you plan on doing that?’ George says.

‘You’re the most wanted person in the country. They’ll be

looking for you.’

‘I know that!’ I say. ‘Why do you think I was trying to

take Nicholas’s stuff?’

‘To fulfill your dream of opening a china shop?’

I glare at him. ‘I don’t have time for this.’ I move towards

the door again. ‘You’ll just have to get someone else to find

your wizard for you.’

George gets to his feet and steps in front of me. ‘You

know I can’t let you do that.’

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I sigh. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, George. But if you get in

my way, I will.’

He holds up his hands but doesn’t move. ‘You want

to leave. I get that. If I were you, I’d want that, too. But

you have no clothes, no weapons. And no money to get

those things.’

‘No thanks to you,’ I mutter.

‘Even if you did, you have no safe way to get around.

With the reward they’re offering, you’ll have people after

you everywhere you turn. Pirates, hirelings, mercenaries—’

‘I can take them.’

‘Yes, but for how long? Long enough to make it across

the country? All the way to Gaul? That’s where you’re

going, isn’t it?’

I don’t reply.

‘We can help you,’ George continues. ‘If you did this for

us, if you helped us find the wizard cursing Nicholas and

stop him, I reckon he’d give you whatever you want.’

It’s a tempting offer. Still, I hesitate. Finding the

wizard isn’t the concern; I could do that with ease. It’s

not that Blackwell is after me; he’s after me anyway. It’s not

even Caleb.

There’s something else bothering me. Finally, I land

on it.

‘Why me?’ I say. ‘There are other witch hunters who

could have done the job for you. Ones you wouldn’t have

had to break out of jail, or who weren’t wanted criminals.

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I’m sure you could have found someone willing.’ Not

Caleb, of course. But I can think of several others who

might’ve done it. For the right price, anyway.

‘I don’t know why you, either,’ George says. ‘You heard

Peter. We thought you were a mistake. If we’d got to you

earlier, when we were supposed to, none of this would have

happened. It didn’t make it easy on us, either.’

‘Why didn’t Nicholas just tell me this?’

George’s eyes widen. ‘Didn’t know you were a witch

hunter, did he? Thinks you’re an innocent girl, doesn’t

he?’ He shakes his head. ‘I’ll tell you, you had us all fooled.

I thought you were a spy. Fifer and Nicholas think you’re

a witch. And John…’

‘John what?’

‘He just thinks you’re a mistake. That’s all.’

‘Oh.’ This bothers me for a moment, but I shake it off.

‘As I say, Nicholas doesn’t know what you’re supposed

to find,’ George continues. ‘He hasn’t told you what he does

know because he thought you were too fragile to take it.’

‘Fragile?’ I scoff. ‘I could kill you right now, using only

my thumb.’

To my surprise, this makes him laugh. ‘Aye. But have

you looked in the mirror lately?’

I ignore this. ‘So that’s it then? I just have to help him

find this wizard?’

He nods.

I consider it. As much as I hate to admit it, I do need

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help. That much hasn’t changed. I still need a way to leave

the country and money to do it with. And it might not be a

bad idea to have Nicholas’s protection. He’s been in exile

a long time and managed to keep Blackwell at bay. Maybe

he can do the same for me. If I had to guess, I’d say I’m

going to be in exile for a long time, too.

‘Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll find your wizard for you.’ George

sighs in relief. ‘Not so fast,’ I add. ‘I have a few conditions.’

‘Oh?’

‘First, I want a guarantee you aren’t going to use me to

get what you need, then turn me over for the reward.’

‘Nicholas would never do that.’

I think Nicholas would absolutely do that, but I don’t

bother to argue. ‘Fine. Then after it’s over, he won’t have

any problem escorting me wherever I want to go.’

George nods. ‘If that’s what you want.’

‘Second, I don’t want anyone else to know about me.’

This makes him frown. ‘Nicholas is bound to find out,’

he says. ‘If he doesn’t figure it out on his own, the seer will

surely tell him.’

‘I know. But it’s not just Nicholas I’m worried about.’

I think about the others. Peter’s a pirate, no doubt skilled

with a sword. Fifer is Nicholas’s ‘star pupil’. There’s no

telling how many ways she could curse me. Then there’s

John. He wouldn’t hurt me, I know that. But I think if he

were to learn the truth about me, it would be just as

unpleasant, in a different kind of way.

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‘So do we have a deal?’

George nods. Then he sits back down in the chair and

beckons to me. ‘So, can I see it? Your stigma, I mean? I’ve

never seen one before.’

‘There’s nothing to see.’ I touch a hand to my stomach.

‘It only shows itself when I get injured, then vanishes

when I heal.’

George grins. ‘I could stab you…’

I point my thumb towards his eye.

He cracks a laugh. ‘I’m joking. But that’s clever, it

disappearing like that. Keeps you from getting caught.

Explains why Fifer didn’t see it when she cleaned you up, or

John when he examined you.’

I feel a sudden jolt at the thought of John looking at –

and possibly touching – my bare stomach.

‘So what does it look like?’

‘What?’

‘Your stigma,’ George says. ‘Is it awful?’

‘Oh. No. I mean, it’s not as bad as you’d think.’ When I

found out we were getting stigmas, I panicked. I imagined

the worst: a brand, a scar, something raised and raw

and ugly. But it’s small and delicate – elegant even, like

handwriting done with a fine pen.

‘Did it hurt?’

I don’t answer right away. The marking ceremony took

place right after I took my final test as a recruit. That test is

something I don’t like to think about, much less talk about.

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I must have been in shock after it was over. I don’t really

remember if it hurt or not.

‘A little.’ I don’t want to talk about my stigma anymore.

George presses on. ‘It’s magic, isn’t it? I mean, it has

to be. Don’t you think that’s strange? That a witch hunter

uses magic? That doesn’t seem right, does it? Who gave it

to you, anyway?’

‘Yes. No. I guess. I don’t know.’

And I don’t. I’ve thought about my stigma, thought

about it until my head spun. Why did Blackwell give

us magic when he hates magic? When he blindfolded us

and led us behind closed doors and had us marked, how

did he know it would work? Caleb said one of the wizards

we captured did it, but how did Blackwell know it

wouldn’t kill us?

This is when I usually stopped asking, because I knew he

didn’t. We were his experiments. His subjects. And if

he killed one of us, he’d simply find a replacement. Just

as he always did.

George looks at me for a moment. ‘How exactly did

you get mixed up in this? Witch-hunting is a really serious

business. And you’re just a girl.’ He frowns. ‘How did

this happen?’

I think back to the day Caleb first approached me

about being a witch hunter. It started out ordinarily enough,

but by sunset I had already taken my first frightened steps

down a path I knew there was no coming back from.

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But the idea of Caleb walking it without me frightened

me even more.

‘Caleb convinced me to go with him. He was my best

friend. The only family I had.’

George looks skeptical. ‘Fine way to treat your family.

Forcing them to do something like that against their will.’

I shake my head. ‘It wasn’t like that. He didn’t force me.’

‘You wanted to be a witch hunter?’

‘I – no. I wanted to be with Caleb. It was what he wanted.

And I trusted him to do what he thought was best.’

George makes a face. ‘The best for you or for himself?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He shrugs. ‘Seems to me he was more interested in

advancing himself than he was in keeping you safe.’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I say. ‘He’s

always taken care of me. He’s always kept me safe.’

‘Didn’t do a very good job of it, did he?’ George replies.

‘Girls who are safe don’t get thrown into prison and

sentenced to death. He left you there to die—’

‘He didn’t leave me to die,’ I say. ‘He was coming back.’

‘Oh, aye, he was coming back. To escort you to

the stakes.’

‘Stop.’

‘You know I’m right. Surely you know that.’

‘Stop,’ I repeat. ‘I’m serious, George. If you say another

word against Caleb, I’ll leave. I don’t care what you offer, or

what happens to Nicholas.’

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‘Elizabeth—’

‘Not another word!’ I’m shouting now. ‘Or I swear,

I’ll—’

The sound of someone clearing his throat interrupts

me. I jerk my head around and there’s John, standing in

the doorway. He’s wearing a thick black travelling cloak,

a large canvas bag slung over his shoulder, traces of rain

still on his face and hair. He must have got back and come

straight upstairs.

George stands up. ‘Didn’t hear you come in.’

John shrugs. ‘Sorry to interrupt. I knocked a few times,

though.’ He looks at me, then back at George. ‘Nicholas

wants to see you,’ he says. ‘He’s downstairs.’

George moves to the door, eyeing me warily. Probably

thinks I’ll try to escape again.

‘I thought I’d clean up,’ I say.

‘I’ll ask Hastings to prepare a bath,’ George says. Then he

leaves. John lingers, looking at me with the strangest

expression. His eyes travel from my hair, which I know is

still covered in flour, to my grubby, egg-stained trousers,

then to my hand, which is fully healed now and still

unwrapped, back to my face.

‘We leave at five,’ he says. ‘Be sure to wear something

warm.’

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We leave at five o’clock, right on schedule. Peter and Gareth

stay behind; apparently Veda has a fear of all old men,

except Nicholas. I wonder why.

Outside, the night is cold and crisp, and I’m grateful

for the clothes Hastings brought me to wear. Close-fitting

green trousers and a soft white shirt. A long black velvet

coat and knee-high black boots. Fifer’s clothes. I knew by

the scowl she gave me how much she hated having to

hand them over.

Nicholas says it’s an hour’s walk to get there, none

of it on open road. He knows the path well, directing us

around trees and over fallen branches, until we’re deep in

the woods. The moon is completely black tonight, not a

single sliver of light to guide us. I walk beside George,

and while I’m used to walking in the dark, he’s having

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trouble. He stumbles every few feet, tripping over fallen

logs and into potholes.

‘A pity Veda can’t see in the daytime.’ He pitches forward

again, and I grab his arm to keep him from falling. ‘Honestly,

is the bit about the moon really that important?’

‘The bit about the moon?’ Fifer tsks beside me. ‘The dark

phase of the moon is only the most significant aspect to

divination. The time when seers are at their most powerful.

And you call it “the bit about the moon”.’

‘Well, not all of us are witches,’ he replies.

I feel Fifer’s eyes shift to me when he says it.

‘You said the phase lasts three days,’ George continues.

‘Can’t Veda see at any point during that time?’

‘Strictly speaking, yes,’ Nicholas replies. ‘But the energy

is strongest in the first few hours. We want to take advantage

of that. Anyone with any seeing power will be looking in