Chapter 75

Katarina drowsily opened her eyes into the night-gloom of the dorm. Something had woken her, what was it?

She listened carefully, but could hear nothing, aside from her own breathing.

After a moment she realized that it wasn’t her breathing, and she could feel the pressure of someone in her bed. She threw back the covers in a flash, revealing the half-curled figure of Frederika.

How had Frederika managed to crawl into bed with her without waking her up? Katarina wondered. She’d developed a keenly honed sense of awareness since Gordon and Irving had decided to make Katarina their target for abuse. It only took the sound of someone touching the latch to the door for her to instantly wake, adrenaline in her veins, ready to defend herself, and yet Frederika had somehow managed to come into her room, crawl into the same bed as she, and fall asleep before Katarina had awakened.

After a long moment of silent consideration, Katarina drew the covers back over them and she lay back down.

When she woke up in the morning, Frederika shocked her again with a light, quick kiss on the lips.

"Thank you for letting me stay the night, Katarina." She whispered, and climbed out of bed, gathering her hair and tossing it back briskly.

"What?" Katarina replied, sitting up in bed and eyeing the pale girl. "Why did you kiss me?" She demanded.

Frederika shrugged. "In Nauders, it’s a greeting between close friends." She replied unselfconsciously. She smiled at the green-eyed girl. "There is a story for children about a boy and a wolf, where the Wolf kisses the boy and tells him, "A kiss is a promise not to bite." She added. "You are my friend, and..." She paused and reached over and touched Katarina’s hand, "And you saved me." She added. "I will not forget your kindnesses."

-Such a beautiful soul.

-I know. It’s a shame she had to return to Naudes before Katarina came back.

-Could we summon her back?

-Why? How? Under what pretext? No... no. We’ll have to do this on our own.

It was hard to say who was more surprised.

At some level Katarina was aware of the bootsteps approaching the room that she shared with Frederika, and so when the door opened, Katarina bolted out of her bed, fingers scrabbling on the knife she’d snuck from the Garrison during combat training.

Nadette loomed over the girl, grotesque, sneering. "Good morning, Neophyte. I thought I might have to drag you kicking and screaming out of bed, but here you are, out of bed and awake!"

-Ugh. Nadette, you ass.

-To her credit she did let Katarina keep the knife.

-That’s Sealed to the Book.

-Yes, High Lady Inquisitor. Sorry High Lady Inquisitor.

-Good. The voice was laden with dry sarcasm at that last bit. Wait. The High Lady Inquisitor? What was going on? She had to get up, she had to- she had to-

-Shit, she’s fighting again. Incense. Breathe, Katarina. Breathe.

She faded out again, faintly hearing, Tell me about Devon, Katarina. What happened after you went to Preux?

"Now we step into the realm of the mage." Devon announced to the class. Scattered across the low table were a number of objects. Knives, short rods and baubles, earrings and necklaces, belts and gloves, strange ornaments of twisted metal.

"As a Witch Hunter, your job is to track and subdue the mage." He began. "However, a mage may augment their talents with any number of trinkets or enhancements to their gear, making an ordinary mage into something more formidable."

He gestured at the table. "You all have the capability and capacity to use many of these. In fact, simply having them on your person is enough to confer their benefits." He picked up the pair of gloves and drew them on, and then picked up the lectern, which was carved granite and weighed several hundred pounds.

"You must also remember that the nature of magic is toxic and corruptive. You must never use magical items until they’ve been purified by the church." He smiled a little. "Purification strips some of the potency of these charms and baubles, however, so gloves that allow you to pick up a hundred pounds with no effort for a mage after purification will usually only let you lift a quarter of that without effort or strain."

He gestured at the table. "Your assignment is to identify the properties of each item. Use whatever method you feel necessary. Points will be awarded for successful identification, deducted for failure to identify the purpose, and for incorrect identifications as well."

He gestured at the gloves. "I’ve already given you a free point. Go to it."

Katarina had worked her way through many of the items the others had also identified. There were three items remaining on her desk: a brooch for cloaks, a staff wrapped with hemp twine and decorated with all sorts of accoutrements, and a long red steel knife.

Sensing movement, Katarina looked up. A dark-haired boy stood near her desk with a short rod. Katarina placed a name to him; Lennox. He was typically quiet and didn’t take up with the others. He was quiet because he had a thick accent that placed him from the shipbuilding country of Blackwater, a country known for its thick coniferous forests and hardy folk. He himself was evidence of that, with broad shoulders, thick muscles, and a tumble of black hair.

"Katarina." He greeted quietly. "I was hoping that you could confirm something for me." He gestured with the rod. "It seems to have an impression of influencing the mind and body in some way, but I can’t place it." he added.

Katarina took the rod from his hand and closed her eyes, running her hands over it. She raised an eyebrow, and picked up the brooch with her other hand. There was some sort of sense of synergy between the two.

"You have a good sense, I think." She replied after a minute, and then handed the rod back. "There’s a resonance with the brooch; try it and see." She encouraged, and he responded with a quick smile and a nod. "You’re right. It’s for-" he started, but she raised her hand warningly.

"Don’t blurt it out." She suggested, and he nodded in reply.

She picked up the knife and immediately dropped it. She immediately understood why the people that handled that knife did so immediately.

"What is it?" he asked, and Katarina frowned, wiping her hand repeatedly on her skirts.

"It’s disgusting. Foul." She replied, mouth twisting in disgust. "I don’t know what it is, but it’s revolting." She added, wiping her mouth and scrubbing her hand against her dress. He gestured at the knife, and she shook her head. "I’m not finished with it." She glanced out at the rest of the class. "None of them were able to figure it out." She remarked, and clamped her lips together briefly. "I will do better."

Lennox blushed and stammered out, "You’re great, Katarina. You’re always working harder than everyone else." he managed, voice strangling. He pivoted quickly and stumbled jerkily towards Devon before she could reply.

She touched the boots; it was obvious that they were made to help the wearer move across difficult surfaces. Likely they would grip on ice and ablate on sand, providing sure footing. It was too late to see if there was a synergistic response with the rod and brooch, but she suspected there would be. With all three combined, the wearer would be quick of thought, quick of movement, and sure of foot. She wondered if they were all taken from the same user, which was likely the case for the rod and brooch.

A touch was all it took for her to identify the staff. All of the fetishes and charms that adorned the staff had their own uses, and when you put them together, it was pretty simple. The staff was designed to full-cast a specific spell. The amber stone reconfigured the earth, the intricate hemp knotting was there to cast the spellform onto the reconfigured earth, the blue stone drew magical power into the circle, the bronze coin seemed to conjure components to complete the spell, whatever it was.

She eyed the knife. Nobody had wanted to identify it. She didn’t either. She’d seen Devon’s responses to the others; that bland, self-effacing smile that fit uncomfortably well with his mincing, almost effeminate nature, always encouraging.

She took a breath and let it out, and then touched the knife’s hilt again. She instantly regretted it. Her mind skewed, and the room grew dark. She could feel her gorge rising, her mind twisting.

She awoke some time later in Devon’s offices.

She struggled to a sitting position, feeling a blanket slide off her as she did so. She glanced down and grimaced; she was naked. Reflexively she checked; nobody had taken advantage of her while she’d slept, which was reassuring in its own way. When she’d moved from the general classes to the Witch Hunter classes, the harassment dried up, but there was a certain unspoken distance between herself and her fellow Witch Hunter cadets. For one, she was the only girl in the class. For another, she was taller than most of them, and finally, her body had developed "spectacularly" as her headmistress had described it. The lessons she’d learned in the general classes had laid their mark on her however, and she made it a point of never allowing herself to be in a vulnerable position with her co-classmates, which gave her the air of being stuck-up and aloof.

Devon came through the door of his office, and she hastily covered herself with the blanket.

"I apologize for your state of undress." he apologized smoothly. "You puked all over yourself, so I had your clothes sent to be cleaned." He said by way of explanation. "What happened?"

She grimaced. "That knife." She replied, and wiped her mouth disgustingly.

He let out a short chuckle. "I should have guessed." he replied, and she glared at him, but he raised his hands defensively.

"Someone in every class invariably tries to identify it and reacts the same way." he replied smoothly. He smiled warmly. "If you can identify the rest of the items, you’ll pass. The knife is..." he trailed off and chuckled. "Well, it’s sort of a joke. Nobody has been able to identify its purpose. Everyone reacts that way." he said, and settled himself in a chair near to the bed. Next to the chair was a wooden box; the staff poked out of the top. He spread his hands disarmingly. "We figured that sooner or later someone would be able to discern its purpose."

"Has it been purified?" She asked, and he laughed lightly and covered his eyes with his hand.

"Apologies, Kat." he replied, holding up a hand to forestall her. "Everyone asks that question. The answer is yes, yes it has."

She frowned at his shortening of her name. The only person that did that was Frederika, and in turn she called the other girl Rika. She didn’t much like him doing it on his own.

"Katarina." She stated flatly.

He blinked at her. "Excuse me?" He offered, a confused look on his face.

"My name. Kat-a-rina. Not Kat." She warned.

His lips compressed, but he nodded. "You’re right, Katarina. I’m sorry; I misspoke."

He lifted an earring out of the box.

"This?" He asked. "What does it do?" he asked, and she wrinkled her nose. "The crystal is enchanted. It seems capable of containing a spell that has already been cast." She replied. "Likely something used to save time in casting simple spells, or perhaps it’s used to cast a part of a larger, more complicated spell." She replied simply. He nodded. "Correct, and astute observation. You’ve paid attention in your magical studies, it seems." he lauded.

He held up the brooch, and she relayed her impressions and the synergistic qualities it seemed to have with the boots and rod. When she postulated that they all had likely come from the same mage his smile grew wider and he clapped his hands approvingly. "Well done, well done indeed. Only one other in your class was able to pick up on that."

He tested her on the other magical implements and gave her correct marks on all of the others.

"You’ve done well. Full marks. You’re well on your way to earning your Bells." he approved. "The knife didn’t count, but I’m eager to hear what you think of it. Any impressions? Ideas? Theories?" He asked curiously, picking up a sheet of parchment and a quill.

Katarina closed her eyes and thought back. Her mind didn’t want to go back to that moment, but she forced herself.

"There’s some sort of..." She trailed off.

"Yes? Yes?" he encouraged.

"It felt like... a channel. Or conduit." She hazarded, and then peeked at him with one eye to see if she’d guessed correctly.

"Katarina, you must understand there’s no wrong answer here. Nobody’s been able to identify it, after all. This is good information you’re providing me. We’re breaking new ground, so don’t hesitate. Keep going."

Her mouth twisted, but she pressed on. "That conduit drew my mind inward, into that channel." She finally admitted. "It was disgusting." She shuddered. "The mind is not meant to be twisted and mangled and knotted and forced into shape." She remarked in a low voice. Her lips compressed. "If that knife were a weapon, and it was designed to somehow use the person’s mind like that, to bend and split and intertwine with the knife, to what purpose would it serve?" She mused.

"Certainly, a mage can use a similar process to fill an object with magical energy." She remarked. "That’s the nature of magical theory by default." She replied to herself. "But what would drive a person to stab or cut someone with their mind as a weapon?" She mused thoughtfully. Devon raised his hand in a forestalling gesture.

"You shouldn’t think about the motives of the creator of that thing." he discouraged. "There are many ways of killing things, but the end result is the same." He added. She nodded after a moment.

-Well, we know what it is, now.

-A disgusting thing. It’s been seen to, right?

-Exactly as you requested, High Lady Inquisitor.

-Good. Keep going, Katarina. Let it come to you, as naturally as breathing. In, hold it, out. Yes, that’s right...

"All right class, listen up: Starting today we’re going to have a little adventure." the hardened campaigner Nadette called out. She was the instructor for paladins and routinely took the Witch Hunters under her tutelage for combat training. Katarina eyed the scarred woman speculatively. Were they to undergo combat drills today?

Another woman appeared from the Garrison, a taller woman dressed like a sea captain, golden fringed epaulettes, tricorn hat and everything. Katarina eyed the woman curiously; she was perhaps the first woman Katarina had seen that wore mens’ trousers. She caught a muttered apology to the assembled instructors. Katarina blinked and narrowed her eyes, trying to pick out what they were saying. The woman moved to the forefront of the instructors.

"My name is Alayne Caine, and I am the Lady Inquisitor that is in charge of your instruction." She announced. Her voice was coarse and hard, as if she were more used to shouting than speaking. "Your investigative classes will begin as soon as you return." She let out a chuckle, and added, "If you return."

Everyone began speaking to each other in low voices, and Katarina wished they’d simply shut up so that she could hear.

"Shut up!" Cyrillus roared, silencing everyone. "Today we’re going to begin your survival training. We’re going down to the docks, to the Shipping Platform, and there you’ll board some cargo planks bound for Westcliffe. You’re going to receive a glass ball!" he yelled, holding up something that was roughly the size of a quail’s egg. "Pay attention to it. When it flashes, you jump off the plank and you’ll safely land in the forests below. Jump too soon and you die. Jump too late, and you die. If you don’t jump and you land in Westcliffe, you damn well better believe that you’ll die, because they’ve been ordered to kill you on sight, no questions asked."

Devon spoke up, then. "The glass ball you’ll receive is a magical device that’s been spelled to allow you a safe descent from the pallet to the forest floor. Doesn’t matter how fast you’re going. Doesn’t matter how high you’re travelling." He paused. "Keep it on your person at all times, because you’re going to be in the forest for a month. You’ll hunt, fish, construct your own shelter, tend your own wounds, and attend to your daily devotions. At the end of the month, the glass ball will pull you up to a returning plank for your journey home, so don’t lose it." He smiled that bland smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "It will also allow us to locate your body in case you die."

Cyrillus spoke up, then. "You will be required to do this alone. No teams, no pairs, no buddies." He grinned. "I hope you’ve been paying attention."

Alayne spoke up, then. "Katarina Pavlenko, come down here."

There was a sudden stillness, and Katarina took a deep breath to try and calm the sudden hammering of her heart in her chest. She clenched her hands into tight fists and marched down the rows of prospective Witch Hunters, who all eyed her with varying expressions and muttered to each other under their breaths. She’d never bothered getting particularly close to any of them. They were wary of her because of rumors about her past, because of her enrollment in Preux, the preparatory classes for nobility, and because she was so competitive. Every assignment to her seemed to be a challenge. Tensions were already strained, but there was also the awkwardness of puberty; Katarina was as tall as most of them and for a disparate few, taller. Her bust had come with a vengeance, creating an additional level of tension.

She reached the floor of the training yard, and approached the lectern. Fifty-two pairs of eyes bored into her back, and the inscrutable gazes of the instructors bored into her from the front, but she approached anyways.

Alyane raised an eyebrow. "You’re a tall one, girl." She remarked casually, and then waved it away. "You don’t have to participate. You’re exempt." She announced. "You can continue your academics with Preux until the exercise is over."

It was hard for Katarina to breathe; ice seemed to keep dumping into her veins. Her chest burned with a searing fire and felt tight as a drum.

Katarina turned her head rustily as she regarded her instructors, and they all appeared to be in agreement, with the exception of Nadette, the scarred paladin trainer that was brusque, ruthless, and no-nonsense.

Nadette had been brutally wounded in some campaign or another, where part of her face had been sheared off. Clerical healing had been used to heal it, but half of her face was runneled with thick scars. One ear was a melted lump of flesh. No one would call her pretty. She glanced at Katarina and her scarred lips clamped shut. She was angry, Katarina decided. Angry with her? She dismissed that outright. Nadette was both relentless and ruthless with her training, but there was always an element of separation. Nadette never got connected or involved with her students.

"All right, it’s decided." Alayne stated dismissively, and clapped her hands together. Katarina glanced at the woman. Alayne was attractive in an aristocratic way, but her face seemed etched in a perpetual scowl. A small scar slanted between her brows, emphasising the expression.

"Excuse me?" Katarina replied, and Alayne glanced back at the taller girl, an eyebrow raised at her temerity. "Nothing’s being decided for me." Katarina replied suddenly, facing Alayne completely. She heard a strangled cough from Devon and wondered if it was hastily stifled laughter.

"Why am I not to participate?" She demanded to know, and suddenly she could feel her anger rising up, hot and light, filling her chest.

Alayne sighed and turned to the other instructors, who were eyeing Katarina carefully. "Get the others to the shipping area. I’ll handle Katarina." She glanced at Nadette and sighed. "In the interests of impartiality, I’ll have you stay here." She stated flippantly, and Nadette eyed Alayne flatly.

Alayne eyed the girl as Cyrillus and Devon herded the others out of the arena.

"Things would have gone a lot easier had you simply agreed to what I said, trainee." Alayne complained. "Now we have to do this the hard way." She blew out an angry breath.

"Look. It’s simple." She explained brusquely. "You don’t have to be a Witch Hunter." Alayne stated to Katarina. "You’ll excel just as well as an Inquisitor. I’ve seen the reports from your fellow instructors. Your tenacity, your analytical skills, your physical aptitude... you would excel. You don’t have to muck about in the woods."

"The difference is that, instead of hunting the Witch, you’ll be hunting heresy in whatever form it takes, Katarina." Nadette interjected. "You will not just be hunting Witches. You will be attending balls, greeting functionaries, moving between cities as you seek out heretical ideas and identifying moral threats." Nadette added with a sidelong glance at Alayne. "Your scope would be much wider, but your travel will be limited to your investigations. As a Witch Hunter, you will exclusively hunt the Witch, which will require a great deal of travel and generally speaking a lot of time in the woods."

Alaye and Nadette eyed each other, and turned to Katarina.

"Instructor Nadette." Katarina remarked formally, turning to the trainer. The scarred woman raised a cool brow at Katarina.

"What is it, Trainee?" The paladin replied in a gravelly voice.

"I can do this, right?" Katarina asked, and Nadette nodded. "I was the first of them that said you could." She remarked gravely. "I am not responsible for holding you back." She added, with a glance at Alayne that seemed to bore into her with significance.

"Devon and Alayne both believe that you should not be allowed to participate." Her lips clamped tight in suppressed anger. "Devon’s reasons cited were ... vague." she allowed tightly, "But Alayne is pragmatic. She believes that you should be spared the constant harassment and ignominy that will come because you will, by necessity, be required to wear trousers." She continued.

"Trousers?" Katarina scoffed. "You want to keep me from becoming a Witch Hunter because I might have to wear trousers?" Her voice was heavy with skepticism. "Utter ridiculousness."

Nadette responded simply with a slap that flicked out like lightning, cracked like a pistol shot, and knocked Katarina’s head back.

As Katarina straightened, Nadette explained: "It’s impractical for a woman to wear a dress in the wilderness, or to ride a horse sidesaddle for long hours and days at a stretch. Wearing a dress, you no doubt have observed, obstructs hand to hand combat." She paused. "While I’m certain the people of Darnell would only yell and jeer at you, the smallfolk in the towns and villages you pass through will likely judge you a heretic yourself. It is not ‘just that’. Wearing trousers is much bigger a deal than you think, Katarina." She finished in all seriousness. "There are many reasons that any number of people can list to prevent you from becoming a Witch Hunter." She added as an afterthought, "But trousers are a reasonable one. And for what it’s worth, Cyrillus argued that you were capable, as did I."

She smiled again, the scars on her face turning it into a ghastly sneer. "You are the deciding vote. If you want to be a Witch Hunter, Your training will continue. You will be required to wear breeches like a man. If you decide to walk the path of the Inquisitor, you will not participate in the Witch Hunter courses anymore."

Katarina didn’t hesitate. "I want to do this." She replied straightaway. "I was brought here at the age of six to become a Witch Hunter." She grimaced at some of the memories that surfaced. "I’ve spent five years of my life learning how to be a Witch Hunter." She added. "I want this." From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Nadette allowed a tiny smile to touch her face.

Alayne gripped Katarina’s shoulder. "Think carefully, girl. You don’t have to do this." She replied. "Frankly, I think it’s wholeheartedly unconscionable- dropping a greenhorn sixteen-year-old into the middle of an uncharted forest with fifty boys?" She shook her head and tossed her arms. "Preposterous."

Katarina shook her head. "I can outfight any of them, and they all know it. Even if they didn’t know it, they’ve heard the rumors." She remarked angrily. Alayne raised an eyebrow and mouthed the word ‘rumors’ to herself. "And it doesn’t matter anyway. Under Church law, the moment I turned sixteen I became an adult. I’m qualified and capable of making my own decisions for myself." She argued angrily. "I’m going." Katarina took a breath. "I want to do this." She repeated in a lower voice. "I’m going to be a Witch Hunter."

"You’re going to have to start wearing pants, then." Alayne said with a sigh. "You can’t ride well or hike well in a forest wearing a dress." She frowned. "You can’t imagine the stigma you’ll get when you wear pants." She added in a lower voice. "Everyone will want to arrest you, flog you, or both."

"Nevertheless." Katarina replied stubbornly.

They were shuttled to the shipping area of Darnell, which was an open arena. A century ago, the Anglish Empire discovered a way to ship large volumes of cargo via flying carpets. Eventually the carpets evolved into simple wooden pallets that moved in pre-ordained flight patterns, and so you could occasionally see a boxy wooden platform launch itself into the air and then settle into a stately flight in a straight line. There were weight and speed limits to them, and they had to have a predetermined destination, so they never supplanted sailing ships or personal couriers.

-Nothing useful, there.

-You clearly need to return to training. As expected we’ll need to interrogate Cyrillus and Nadette as well.

-As you say.

-Fetch the Baptism Confessor.

-I will-Ma’am?

-The Confessor. Katarina suffered through something painful during her Trial in the forest. Traumatising, I expect. I want a Confessor here, to guide her through this part. I can get information, but... Katarina needs kindness for this part. I can’t do that for her.

-As you wish.