Manon's Child

Part 42

A week passes with no trouble, and I spend most of it overseeing the construction of the Witch-City. Infuriatingly, any time I try to help, the other witches refuse to let me, telling me to focus on my pregnancy, and not wasting energy. Every time, I try not to snap at them. I'm not useless because I'm pregnant; I can still work.

The next morning, the sky is overcast and grey, storm clouds massing above us. I wondered when the first storm would hit - they're infamous on the Wastes for being deadly and strong to anyone caught in them. I hope the Witch-City can stand it.

Although I need to speak to about a million different witches today, the first thing I do is find Abraxos. He sits up as he sees me, and I smile, stroking his head. Although I see him everyday, he allways wants to go out, but I can't this morning. Instead, I make sure he's secure, and that he'll be comfortable in the upcoming storm - for some reason. he's afraid of lightning. 

I head back into the camp, the skies above rumbling ominously. I glance up at it, but see no lightning yet. Around me, witches are securing their tents and packing up lose items. Though I've never been on the Wastes before, and haven't experienced one of these storms, many of the Crochans have.

I head to the section of our camp dedicated to the witches who use herbs for healing. They're all Crochans - all Ironteeth train as warriors. "Excuse me?" I say to one of them.

She turns around in surprise, and as she does, it starts to rain. Hard. I look back at the witch and recognise Marissa. "Queen Manon?" she asks. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just -"

"Sorry for interrupting, but it might be better to go inside," she says. I nod, already soaking. "You can come in here if you want?" Marissa offers, pointing toward her own tent, but I shake my head.

"No, thank you," I say, "I'd rather go to my own tent." I start walking then pause. "You need to accompany me." She nods, following me across the camp to my tent. By the time we arrive there, I'm soaked to the skin. 

I duck inside, and she follows behind me. In the corner of my tent, I grab some dry clothes, and the witch turns around as I change, looking awkward. As I'm changing, she asks, "Why did you request my company?"

"You trained in healing?"

"It's not exactly healing, as in the magic," she says quickly. "It's herbal remedies and similar. I... I'm not a warrior, I can't fight."

"I thought you said you fought in the war," I say.

"I... I didn't fight. I helped the injured Crochans."

"I see," I say. I try to pull my top on, but the tight leather won't fit over my stomach. I curse, taking it off, and grab something looser. Even so, it's a tight fit.

I sit on the cot, and Marissa turns. "Do you-"

I'm inturrupted as someone pulls back the flap of my tent. "My Queen," says the witch-sentry, dripping wet. She bows. "We just received a human messenger, requesting to see you. He has a message from the King of Adarlan."

I sit in shocked silence for a second, before demanding, "Well, what are you waiting for? Bring him to me!"

The witch nods and hurries off. Marissa shifts nervously. "Didn't you say the King of Adarlan might start a war?"

I start, having forgotten about her. "Dorian wouldn't do that," I scoff, hands on my stomach. At her questioning glance, I correct myself. "I mean, with their weakened resources and army, it is unlikely that Adarlan will attack us at such a time."

The human messenger appears, sentry behind him. He looks extremely nervous, to my extreme amusement. He bows. "I have a message from the King of Adarlan."

"Well, spit it out."

THe messenger looks startled. "His Royal Majesty, King Dorian of Adarlan, is travelling to the Witch Kingdom with much haste. He requests an audience with  Queen Manon of the Witches."

"I see," I say, but something is bubbling up inside of me. I think it's excitement. I turn to the sentry, keeping my face clear of emotion. "See to it that this messenger has somewhere to stay," I say, and then add, just because it's hilarious, "And make sure no one eats him."

The messenger pales but follows the witch out. I sit back down on the cot, unreasonably happy.

Suddenly, a thought hits me, and my happiness disappears like a cloud. "Marissa," I say, trying to keep my voice even, "Go get that sentry."

Looking confused, she does. They quickly come back, though the human is nowhere to be seen. "How quickly can you organize a search party?" I demand.

"A search party?" the sentry repeats in confusion. "A half hour at the least. But flying conditions aren't safe."

"How unsafe?"

"Er... well, for the next three hours it's moderately safe. But after that, flying will be impossible. It's not safe," she repeats.

"How likely is it that a human caught in the storm survives?"

Understanding dawns on the witch's face. "Zero. I'll get a search party out immediately." She leaves, and the tent flap falls back down.

"Why do you need a search party?" Marissa asks.

I glance at her. "The King of Adarlan is human. He won't survive."