17. INVENT AND ACCUSE

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"I am calm. I am calm. It is the calm before something awful."

―Sylvia Plath


Lin rocked her foot from side to side as she flipped through reports

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Lin rocked her foot from side to side as she flipped through reports. Lesser and major islands alike sent monthly incident reports to the Library, which accumulated into massive file cabinets beneath the forges.

Sweat beaded in her hairline and she returned another paper to its folder.

"Want me to check back further? See if I can't find a pattern." Razo drawled, plopping another stack of papers onto the table. Lin looked over the array of papers spread out across the room and sighed.

"Sure. Whatever."

Razo wrinkled his nose. "Never had to track a specific witch before, have we? Don't think many hunters have."

Her head gave a soft throb of irritation. Please, be quiet.

"Why does Old Grey want this one, eh? Any theories?"

"You're bothering me," Lin said.

"A witch with dark hair, dark skin, in her forties. Most of these barely have a description."

"This one's powerful. Strong enough to throw me in a fight." Lin slammed a book shut and pushed it to the side. "Can't be many of those around here."

"Shame there's not some sort of system to organize and rank their power levels," Razo drawled. "That'd make this so much easier."

"Give me peace, please." She grabbed another volume, a scowl carving into her face. Her eyes burned from staring at the awkward handwriting. Razo grunted and went blessedly silent. For a moment, the only sound in the dungeon-like archive was the crackle of fire and the distant clang of machinery as the forges pumped out weapon after weapon.

Razo slammed his boot into the leg of her chair, jarring Lin from her focus. "For-what? What do you want?"

He shoved his book at her face, pinching her nose in the pages. She squeaked in surprise and lurched away, scrambling to grab the book and get out of his reach. Razo erupted into a series of guffaws-half covering his face and his shoulders rounding to shield himself from the retaliatory book she threw at him.

"Shit! Why?" Lin ended up at the other end of the room, the book he'd shoved in her face in one hand and ready to be thrown.

"Ya looked serious and shit! You're never that serious."

"So you shove a book in my face?"

"Yeah. Pretty much. But also I found something. Fifteen years ago, when the Tibetan cluster got sacked. Page 52." Lin frowned and looked at the book. It was a journal. "One of King Wilson's ships was there. Picked up the witch responsible."

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