The iron burnt her skin. She felt numb, tired even, as Nine wrapped the chains around her wrists and ankles. All power had left her, used to sink the Silvermark ship. She should have known this would happen. The whispers of shame, of disgrace—the accusations. Even when saved from certain death, her countrymen saw her for what she was: a witch.
Except for Esen. Stupid, stupid Esen. He was wasting his energy, screaming his lungs out. "How can you do this? She's the reason we're alive!"
"Hold your tongue, Two," One barked.
"Enough!" he shouted back. "My name is Esen, I'm the son of Aqid Nitasha."
"I'm not asking again, Two! She's a witch—the law is clear."
"I cannot stand by and watch you condemn a girl to die for saving your skin. Saving the Prince..."
One sighed. "You asked for this, boy! Arrest him too."
"... The light of the new dawn, the herald of peace and prosperity..." Esen continued as Seven bound his arms behind his back. He didn't even struggle, too focused on defending her. Tears rolled down his eyes. "I too was afraid, One. But it was ignorance... I didn't understand... Why do you make her pay for helping us! She's not evil. She catapulted evil to the bottom of the Jade Sea."
"Esen, stop," Sci said, her voice low.
"No!" he shouted. "You're not going down for this, Sci! I won't let them. You're a hero."
The door of the captain's cabin swung open, and the Prince came out. His broad shoulders straight in his wrinkled but clean uniform. There wasn't a scratch on his pale face. "Not another word. Any of you."
That shut Esen up.
Waves broke against the hull. The boat creaked, while the sails flapped and slapped to the cadence of the breeze that engulfed the ship in a cloud of mist.
Nine breathed down her neck, swallowed, as his brother shackled Esen. Three played with her hair. Four quenched the flame of his burning arrow with his hand. A low hiss. Eight was staring at the sky, all life gone from his eyes, his body. His soul was already waiting in line to enter the Heavenly Halls.
"Captain, this ship is making water, is that correct?" Prince Sebastian broke the silence.
"Yes, My Lord," One said obediently.
"Get your men and women to mend it! That's your main priority."
"Of course, My Lord." One nodded. "What about the prisoners?"
"Lock the boy up. He'll receive a trial according to Scorian law and regulations—I won't intervene. As for the girl... " The Prince jutted his chin. "... she doesn't deserve a public trial where her virtuous deeds will be minimalised."
"My Lord, she's a witch," Ten protested. "She should be executed. Your uncle—"
"His Majesty is not here." The Prince's deep blue eyes flicked to the Markurdyian. "I'm the highest in rank, even from a purely military point of view. I decide what happens to her and under what conditions. Is that understood?"
One lowered his head. "Yes, My Lord."
"Remove her chains. Let her come here," the Prince said.
Nine acted without hesitating. He first removed the shackles around her feet, then clicked open the one constraining her wrists.
Sci rubbed her sore skin. It was red, hot, and scaly in places. She hated iron. With her head held high, she walked up to the upper deck. Her heart not fearing what her brain did fear. The darkness. The weighing of virtues and sins as she stood at the gate of the Heavenly Halls. If she had to go down, it would be with the same grace as Prince Sebastian.
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The Witch's Hour (A New Dawn #2.5)
Fantasy[Novella]As a child, Sci was scarred by her own mother for being a witch. While the wound has healed and her shawl now covers her face, Sci struggles to remain deaf to the call of the desert wind. She works hard to get into the Scorian army, taking...
