Nasty Little Witchling

We were well within the heart of winter. The snow I was used to in the north was slowly piling up across the city, and soft flakes continued to fall around me. It made running across the rooftops more difficult, but I had enough practice not to slip off completely.

I dangled my legs off the last structure before the inner wall, balancing my shoes on the ends of my toes. The blocking building, which had a similar layout to the brick buildings near the palace, contained plenty of office space and communal areas the others were exploring.

We’d stuffed so many warding runes on either side of the main street that there were hardly any ghouls willing to walk into it. It’d taken weeks of hauling knapsacks full of the crystals farther and farther away from the abbey. The four of us wouldn’t have been able to accomplish the task if more groups weren’t pressed into helping.

Something we weren't aware of was pushing the elders to rush their plans. In our many discussions about it, we decided that increasing activity in the outer district may be the cause.

Even with the wards and safety of the rooftops, the ever-increasing density of ghouls would have slowed progress without the new lure runes. They had been placed far away from our path to live out their limited lifetime, getting ghouls off our street.

Ulia had that job to herself, and all I got to see of the new rune was that it was scratched into polished silver. It was a harrowing task, as she often reminded us, imbuing the runes on site and then running before ghouls swarmed in due to their attractive allure.

I had been at the edge of one’s effect while it was being tested and spent the rest of the lesson salivating, dreaming of lunch. Though, no one else seemed to notice.

The lessons had also lost some of their appeal. However, sitting in a dingy room for hours on end would do that, no matter the topic. Elder Talena wasn’t the sole elder who taught, but they all started with going around the room and getting us to name the runes. It was the foundation of most studies, and by now, I could reliably describe most with little error.

Each elder specialised in different potions or curse types and spent most of the remaining lesson time expounding on those. We also had general classes for subjects like mathematics and carpentry, but only so far as they related to alchemy and rune carving.

Philosophical rambles were interjected whenever possible, and I found myself agreeing with most of the issues the elders raised. It wasn't a coincidence that every population had complaints about mages and their influence in communities. However, I did have to hold back eye-rolls when all of those criticisms would magically be resolved if we killed all the mages.

Justifications for the fall of the capital were also forced into the conversation: how The Fall was a much-needed blank slate for the kingdom or that they only meant to balance the scales, not break them.

Beyond all the distractions, I’d partially completed one of my goals by learning the recipe for dragon’s breath. However, what we’d been roped into helping with was only the final assembly. The elders had already synthesised all the alchemicals; we were simply putting them together with the cotton.

I hadn’t recognised any of the mixtures and made the mistake of sticking my nose into a jar holding a colourless liquid, searing my nostrils for the rest of the day.

Maisie, the only witness to my stupidity, tried to keep a straight face as the elder explained never to get the mixtures on your skin or eyes. I had also tried to keep a straight face, but instead of holding back a fit of giggles, I held back tears.

I crinkled my nose as a snowflake landed on it and scanned the street below. The plan was to place the wards all the way to the gate and go beyond to map out a new abbey. The Ambuya knew good places to check and had left a list for us to search through, but she didn’t know if they were still in livable conditions.

The problem we ran into was that the portcullis had been dropped, and large chunks of stone from the arch above had been dislodged to block the entrance.

The cobblestone below was pockmarked with deep gouges more severe than anywhere else along the street. The building I sat on was one of the few in decent condition. Some were so full of holes it was hard to imagine how they still stood, while others lay in blackened heaps.

The fragments of bone and disfigured skeletons hidden inside rusted chainmail and steel helmets were the likely culprits of all the damage. The distinct skulls of horses, because I’d yet to see a ghoul’s jaw that misshaped, also lay amongst the burial ground in equal numbers.

I imagined the battle that must have raged and couldn’t see an outcome that didn’t have them completely overwhelmed.

There was no coloured fabric left to show the allegiance of the cavalry, but they looked old enough to be from the time of The Fall. Perhaps the portcullis was their doing, a desperate attempt to block more ghouls from spilling out of the city. Or was it a blockage in their path that trapped them here?

Either way, opening it wouldn’t be good for anyone but the witches, especially if the other gates were also closed.

A dull thud from inside startled me enough to lose the tenuous hold I had on my shoes. A glass window shattered outwards as a piece of iron was launched out and embedded in the vines covering the wall across the street.

The iron projectile lodged deep into the stone, and I was glad not to be in its path. Dragon’s breath was deafening and destructive, but the fragments it sent flying seemed much more deadly.

Before I could ask if everyone was okay, an argument erupted between the three girls, letting me know they were at least well enough to shout. Andria stuck her head out the broken window and looked up, baffled at finding my shoe amongst the glass.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

She sucked in a breath between clenched teeth, glancing back at the ensuing quarrel between Darine and Maisie. “Yeah…not really. How’d you lose your shoes?”

“What was that?” I asked instead, pointing at the iron object.

“The handle of the safe we’re trying to get into.”

“I think that part’s important.”

“Andria!” Maisie said. “It’s worth it to use another jar, right? Look at the size of the thing; It’s not my fault it didn’t open.”

Andria sighed. “I’m sure it’s not.”

She ducked back inside, and I detached a clinger vine from the wall to collect my shoes. It reached the cobblestones and flopped to the ground, running out of the mana I forced into the thin plant. I detached another, keeping a hold of it as it wrapped around my shoes and pulled them up to the rooftop.

I slipped them back on before scaling the rooftop to survey our surroundings.

Despite the limited number of ghouls wandering into our street, I was up here as a lookout. The dull thuds from opening the safes with dragon’s breath usually attracted a couple of packs, but I waited to see if that was also true with the street fully warded.

The way they lit the dangerous explosive was amusing…if someone were a safe distance away. It involved sparking a flame at the end of a long piece of twine and sticking the other end in the dragon’s breath before running behind a wall or two. The first time I’d experienced it was bewildering to the point I was almost late to run after the girls to safety.

Maisie had given me several silver pieces to wear from the safes we’d already blown open. She grumbled that I didn’t replace my steel bangles with them but was happy enough that I wore the rings and bracelets. The gold was all funnelled towards the elders, who would sell it in the city and bring back ingredients.

The reason I could keep the silver was that its price had plummeted due to a renewed effort from looters to clear the outer district. My one attempt at finding the tunnel they used to enter the city almost got me caught by both them and Ulia when I returned.

Another jar of dragon’s breath was detonated and had an accompanying screech of metal deforming that I’d grown used to. A weird consequence of our escapades was that I now knew the strongest and weakest types of older safes.

A wealth of information I was sure would be helpful outside the city…

A loud impact reverberated along the portcullis, ringing out over the city. I turned to find a ghoul had run into it hard enough to shake the entire length of iron against the archway. Another smacked into the structure, stretching its pale arms through the gaps. More followed, each continuing the awful tolling.

I stomped out the signal that there was trouble, but I doubted that was necessary as waves of ghouls squashed those before them into the portcullis. The ghouls on our side didn’t care for the dull thuds of dragon’s breath but ran towards the gate to push against their inner-city companions.

Maisie climbed over the lip of the roof, followed by Darine. Andria came up last and gave my shoe-clad feet a curious glance before looking back at the real issue. We moved in closer so we didn’t have to shout over the clamour of ghouls.

“Should we go back?” Maisie asked, not taking her eyes off the expanding sea of ghouls.

“We can’t,” Darine said. “The elders want to move as soon as possible.”

“This isn’t possible,” I countered.

“What if we go around?” Andria said. “To the other gate while they’re all here?”

The portcullis groaned, bending towards us from the push of the stronger inner ghouls.

“What if we let them break it?” Maisie asked. “Let them disperse and stroll in after?”

It wasn’t the worst plan for accomplishing their goals, but letting the stronger variants into the city would be bad for everyone else. I searched for a way to dissuade them from the simple answer. “The wards keep ghouls from straying. What if they run straight through to the abbey?”

Andria and Maisie looked at Darine. While we all stressed she wasn’t the boss, she knew best about runes. “I don’t know…they might.”

Andria picked up one of the packs we’d left on the roof, now only filled with dragon’s breath and overnight provisions. “Let’s go around to another gate.”

The mass of bodies below stretched past the fallen stone and reached our building as more groups were attracted by the noise, not caring for the wards with all that was going on.

“What if I set off some dragon’s breath at the other gate and draw them all there?” I asked. “Or do we backtrack to the temple and ring the bell?”

They were reading my lips more than hearing my voice and paused in thought for a moment.

“We need both groups gone,” Darine shouted. “Bell will only work to bring them towards the abbey.”

Andria was already checking through the knapsacks and handed me the one with our remaining jars. “I still think we should all go.”

I pulled on the knapsack, waved her off, and shuffled towards the roof’s edge opposite the main street. I would be quicker and stealthier by myself without them to attract the ghouls. It wasn’t night, but I trusted I could still sneak past or kill any groups not already here.

I climbed down the vines that crawled all over the wall, hoping they would hold my weight without mana that would attract the ghouls. Dropping to the ground, I glimpsed the backs of the ghouls, pressing forward to reach the gate. I didn’t think any, except for the first layer on each side of the portcullis, knew it was only ghouls making all the noise.

Another surge of them down the street threatened to squash me into the group.

I dashed across the street into a building we’d already explored and out the other side. I hadn’t asked if they’d found anything valuable in the safe, but whatever it was, I hoped it was worth it. In hindsight, we should have known the inner ghouls would have been spooked by the noise.

With the crowds of running ghouls thinning and the noise from the gate fading, I had time to think more clearly. I couldn’t decide who I was doing this for because it wasn’t for my benefit. I didn’t like the witches, especially after considering how the wards we placed could be used as a funnel instead of a safe passage.

I also wasn’t enamoured with the remnants living outside, but they hadn’t done anything to me. The ghouls liked to stay in the mana ambience they were used to, but letting out those in the inner city would surely set back the goals of the looters and knights.

I hadn’t grown particularly close to the three girls back on the rooftop, the constant barrier of Patela not being the real me in the way. But I had spent a lot of time with them over the weeks, longer than anyone else besides Mother.

“I could search for the headdress,” I said out loud for any snooping mongoose’s benefit.

Or I could explore the inner city alone for the real riches as the first person to set foot there in decades. Ultimately, I had a soft spot for the girls, but the thought of riches was a good excuse to put myself in danger.

I continued running through and around rows of buildings, keeping the wall within sight. Unlike the outer walls, which appeared almost straight despite being circular, this one visibly curved inwards. I didn’t have a good grasp of the scale, but the inner ring may have been as extensive as Drasda.

My heart raced as I slowed near the next entrance to the interior, more from the long run than surrounding ghouls stressing me. This gate didn’t have stone blocking part of it, but the thick wooden doors were closed. I tugged on the handle of the smaller entrance built into it and had to mess with the wood around the lock before it would open.

I sighed as my eyes found what my senses already knew: the iron portcullis was down. I tugged off the knapsack and pulled out jars of compressed dragon’s breath in its watery storage. With a single worried thought of the girls' situation, I emptied the water and tore off pieces of cotton, careful to keep my mana to myself.

It had been so tightly compressed that there was enough in a single jar to make an outline of a door along the iron bars. I still had four more jars and wondered if this would be loud enough to attract the far-off ghouls. Considering groups still roamed around me, probably not.

I opened a second jar and placed half of it on the lower hinges of the gatehouse door. There were two more sets higher up. I made handholds in the door itself since the wall was too saturated with mana to affect quickly. Each received another half a jar’s worth, and I eyed the other side of the door.

It would take too much time, and blowing off both sides probably wouldn’t be worth it. I also didn’t want to use our entire stock, which took days to make, and get back to a lecture from the elders. I placed the one-and-a-half jars back into the knapsack and searched for the twine.

I pushed aside paper wrappings, empty jars, and a change of robes; the twine wasn’t there.

I looked around in the small confines between the wooden door and portcullis for another option and found it outside, creeping up the side of a wall. I checked for stray ghouls before running over to pull a length of vine off the building, struggling to get it detached from the wall and other plants.

After a calming breath, I persuaded it to detach and detangle instead of ineffectively yanking on it. I dragged it over to the gate, leaning around the thick door that would serve as protection. Under my direction, the vine slithered up the wall near each hinge and to the base of the iron spike that dug into the ground.

Before connecting the vine, I shuffled away from the door to the sturdier wall. I had only a vague sense of where the vine was since there was an abundance of mana in the stone and so much iron nearby. However, there was no chance I would get any closer to the dragon’s breath, even if I weren’t sure whether the vine would work.

I extended each end of the vine, feeling around in the dark for the target. I frowned at the lack of reaction, already thinking of more solutions.

A deafening blast resounded inside the tall archway, and a belch of fire shot out of the small doorway. I dropped the vine and covered my head despite being safely behind the wall. Three smaller detonations went off in succession as the fireball reached up to the hinges.

The towering doorway leant outwards, blackened holes where the hinges used to be. The drawbar keeping the twin doors locked held it from falling all the way, but the creaking of wood suggested it was futile.

Instead of the drawbar splintering, metal squealed as the other hinges disfigured and snapped one by one. The last hinge at the bottom held on for a second as the twin door pulled to the side. It didn’t last much longer, and the door slowly fell, clipping the closest building on the way down.

I shielded my face as I was pushed against the wall from the wind kicked up by the door flattening to the street. I parted my fingers as the four-storey building the door had bashed tipped sideways.

The ground shook, and I flinched, as each storey struck the cobblestone.

Before the rumble subsided, I headed into the archway and through the splintered hole in the portcullis. I passed iron gates blocking the entrance to staircases and slowed as I reached the end of the gatehouse.

Ghouls were already running towards the entrance, closing in on me. My heart raced as I looked around for safety.

The buildings beyond didn’t offer any salvation. They were not the adjoining stretches of houses and shops of the past districts. Sprawling manors sat on their own in the middle of overgrown gardens, surrounded by fences of spiked metal poles. The homes were squat and didn't offer the same refuge I’d grown used to from the rooftops.

I’d still rather be caught in the open than trapped in the tunnel, so I ran out at the same time as a group of ghouls rounded the corner. The closest fence was short enough to scale, but individual ghouls were taking notice of me as their packs ran into the gatehouse. They broke away to converge on me from all sides.

I reached the fence and climbed up the brick foundations in which the spikes were embedded. They were made of steel, so instead of climbing up the thin poles and possibly impaling myself, I bent them to the side to squeeze through. The mana usage attracted more ghouls while I ran through thigh-high grass towards the manor.

The ghouls smacked against the fence and clambered over each other to climb. The first to reach the spiked top was pulled down by another trying to scale them, buying me time to reach the building.

A ghoul on all fours parted the grass as it charged at me. I extended my claws, hoping it had already been inside and there wasn’t an open gate somewhere. I stopped and shifted my weight from foot to foot, watching the parting grass serge towards me. The mana here was like breathing fresh air for the first time, yet they’d lived in it for decades.

Whatever advantages it gave me were likely nothing compared to the ghouls.

I made the grass between us stiff and inflexible. The creature yelped as it continued onward, inflicting minute cuts across its body from pushing through the flimsy blades.

It decided to pounce over the grass at the last second, and I fell to my knees to avoid the outstretched claws. While I ducked, it managed to latch onto the top of my knapsack, pulling me backwards after it.

Glass jars shattered as I landed on my back. I rolled over, flinging air blades through the grass as the ghoul skidded to a halt. Instead of staying to finish the duel and letting the others crash through the gate, I ran towards the manor, throwing more blades behind me to wound my pursuer.

A large panel of glass that took up the entire wall was partly shattered, and I jumped through. A turn later, I found the stairs to the second floor. The ghoul behind me ran through the remaining glass, flinging it everywhere, pausing to sniff the air.