From the Ashes of Victory: The Complete Series, page 88
part #0 of From the Ashes of Victory Series
"I chose to save the lives of hundreds of people," Victoria said.
Selene smiled.
"One witch was killed; a Manifested witch at that. Inga Tupoleva. You dropped an airship on her."
Victoria swallowed. "Would you care to rephrase that?"
"Not particularly."
"You weren't there and you don't know what happened. I've made my peace with the events of that day, and I won't be baited by a stranger into changing that. So state plainly why you're here or leave."
Octavia stared across the table for a long moment, slowly sitting back in her chair.
She smiled.
"I like you, Victoria. Bring that attitude to the Council, there are plenty who could do with hearing it."
"I'm sorry? What Council?"
"The one that is going to be held in France. The first one in 200 years, and you're coming."
"How charmingly presumptuous," Victoria said, taking a sip of tea.
"I think not, as you're the reason." Octavia pointed between Victoria and Selene. "It was thought you might like to defend yourself and your decision. There are going to be a lot of questions, and a lot of rumours going about if you aren't there to quash them. There are a lot of witches arrayed against you, but I can see your rhetorical skills being a match for them."
Victoria knew an attempt to appeal to her nature when she heard it, and didn't rise to Octavia's transparent attempts. "I'm sorry, Millie and Elise are already going. One of my Coven has to stay here. Perhaps if you'd come sooner…"
"Millicent's not going," Octavia said flatly.
"What? Who are you to decide that?" Selene said.
"She's one of Niamh's, and not welcome. Personally, I understand the necessity of witches like them. I spend a lot of time alone, relying solely on my Manifest. If I had someone with a magic sword at my back, I would feel a lot better."
"What does that mean?" Victoria asked.
"Violence, of course," Octavia said, as if it were perfectly obvious.
"Are you unaware of what I am capable of?"
"Your Manifest is not expressly violent. It is, expressly, a fundamental unity with the laws of the natural world. There is many a witch that would like to meet you."
"I won't betray Millie that way," Victoria said. "She's my closest friend and I will not countenance taking this away from her."
"You're not doing any such thing. You are expected to appear before the Council that is being held expressly because of you and your actions. Yekaterina also had a major hand in those events, and she is coming, as well. You're not going to put out Millicent, you are coming at the behest of your sister witches on the Continent. The core Covens are quite concerned about you," Octavia said.
"Flattering. Yet I have neither met them nor sworn any sort of allegiance to them. I don't even know for certain that they exist."
"Granted, but that doesn't change anything. Millicent isn't going, Victoria. There's no betrayal there. It's not up to you."
"It is whether I go or not."
"That is your right, of course. But to refuse them would be unwise," Octavia said in a way that was irritatingly matter-of-fact.
"And why is that?" Victoria asked, letting her ire slip from its scabbard just enough to show the stranger how sharp it was.
"I'm sure you have many questions you'd like answered, ones Selene has been unable to? There are witches in the core Covens twice her age, imagine the knowledge stored away in those withered old heads."
"I see you think you know me. A specific example might prove somewhat more convincing."
"They probably know what happened to your tattoos, for one," Octavia said.
Victoria glanced down at her arm without meaning to. "And how would you know about that?"
"Ah, well, that would be Selene," Octavia said. "For all her differences she may have with the Crones, she has done her duty in keeping us updated on the status of your Manifests."
The blood drained out of Victoria's face and she turned to Selene, who looked as upset as Victoria had ever seen her.
Octavia smiled. "She hasn't told you?"
"It was to ensure our history is preserved," Selene said tightly.
"You… told… others about me? About… what else?"
"Don't blame her, child. The Council has records on every Manifested witch for the last 1,000 years. You're too rare to not keep track of."
Victoria considered Octavia a moment before the latter's teacup suddenly disintegrated, her tea falling all at once to splash across her lap. She leapt from her seat, frantically swiping at her dress with her hand. Her napkin had caught most of the tea, sparing her any burns, as had the fact the tea was already slush by the time she touched it.
The edges of her sleeves stained as brown as the splotch on her dress, she looked at Victoria in frightened incomprehension.
"If you're so curious about my Manifest, address me as 'child' again," Victoria said, every word a frozen wraith in search of a heart to stop.
Octavia's mouth worked before a sound came out. "Are you going to let her speak to me that way, Selene?"
Victoria knew Selene was looking at her then, but her eyes were too busy boring holes into Octavia and she couldn't see with what expression on her face.
But she heard it.
"Yes. I will not tolerate you, of all people, coming here and talking down to one of my pupils. To say nothing of your repugnant attempts to drive a wedge between us." She turned to Victoria. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'd thought it a formality, the way things had always been done. I never imagined it would be wielded as a weapon."
"A discussion for another time," Victoria said. "As for you, Octavia, I find your manner odious and unpalatable, and if you are the one this Council has chosen to make known their wishes, I see no reason to expect any better from them. So if you have said what you have come to say, I wish you good day."
Victoria stood to leave, nodding to Selene as she turned towards the door.
"A shame about Colette," Octavia called to her back. "You were there when she died, too, weren't you? That must be an awful weight on your conscience."
"I suppose you knew her, did you?" Victoria asked.
"I did. So far from home, Stripped, dying all alone."
"Stripped?" Victoria said over the keening in her ears.
"She was severed from her magic, yes? It's called being Stripped. And you watched."
Selene shot to her feet so fast the table shook, rattling the tea service. "Enough!"
Victoria held out her hand. "It's all right. A rather transparent attempt to get under my skin. Appropriate for someone who's supposed to be invisible," she said. "Driving a wedge between you and I, and again with Millie. Mentioning Colette. You've done your research, Octavia, so you have the advantage of me there; I know nothing of you, nothing I can hold over your head to bait you into doing as I wish. I can't threaten you without bringing down any more scrutiny, though I could open a hole in the earth and let you fall in, never to be heard from again. Your line of work must be dangerous; they must be expecting for there to come a time you fail to come back. 'She vanished, no-one can remember seeing her.'"
Octavia swallowed, her throat working; it didn't take Svetlana to see it was one of her worst fears.
"I won't do that, Octavia." Victoria stepped towards the older witch, snatching a teacup from the table as she did. She held it up so Octavia could see it clearly, cradling it in her upturned palm. With a mental flick, she gave it to gravity, letting the solid ceramic fall through the flesh of her hand to shatter on the floor. "But I could."
"Enough, Victoria. You've made your point," Selene said, placing her hand on Victoria's shoulder.
It was such a simple act, but one that Selene had never done before. One of necessity, Victoria knew, given the cold fury that was coursing through her, and one of genuine concern. But with the tone of Selene's voice and the casualness of her touch, it hadn't been of teacher to student, but of peer to peer.
Victoria leaned into it, and let herself be pulled away from Octavia, who looked between the two of them with an unreadable expression on her face.
"I apologise, Victoria," Octavia said. "I misread you."
"Thank you."
"But it doesn't change anything. The Council still expects to see you. And," Octavia held up a hand to ward off the assault she saw coming, "you may not have another chance to make your case. The case for EVE. Get the rules changed, win over support. Work with them, rather than against them. EVE can be the vanguard of enormous change, Victoria, and you can help steer it. You can't do it from here, though. You have to go to them."
"That is a far more intriguing argument," Victoria admitted. "I will think on it."
Relief visibly flooded through Octavia, and the tension that had been keeping her rigidly straight waned. Her shoulders slumped, letting her breathe for what seemed like the first time since she'd stood up.
"Millie would be furious," Victoria said to Selene. "And rightly so."
"If you wish, I will tell her that you have no choice. That this is an irrefutable summons, and it's out of your hands," Octavia said.
Victoria shook her head. "No. If I choose to go, I will tell her myself."
Octavia let out a long breath. "You're a good friend, Victoria. Something many witches don't have."
Having the doors open to The Shed when magic was happening was something that still took some getting used to. Katya couldn't say for sure that she had yet, and just having magic exposed to sunlight felt like it was somehow going to be undone by the fact.
Seeing her own face in magazines and newspapers was one kind of exposure, but doing magic essentially outside was another kind altogether. For her whole life, for all of their lives, magic had been a secret, done in the dark and away from prying eyes. Now, any LAC worker who happened by could look straight in and see not only magic, but people failing at it.
It was only the small people-doors for now, but come the height of summer, or if the concoctions of inexperienced witches got out of hand, it might be the bigger ones, leaving them even more open to the elements and a world that wasn't used to seeing magic being practiced. Or existing.
As it was, it was the Russian Coven's turn to help out the apprentices, but daylight made seeing the dim results of their efforts even more difficult.
So did Katya's hangover. "That's good, Edith," she said, her teeth parting just wide enough to let the air out.
Sweat was pouring from Edith's forehead, and it looked like her brain was trying to force her eyeballs out of her face in an attempt to leap out at the problem it was trying to solve, but there was a tiny trickle of magical energy in her hand.
Not yet coherent enough to be a ball, it was more like a fog or blob of energy in the cup of her hand. Dark red, the lowest energy colour. Yellow was the average most non-Manifested witches could produce, but they all started at red.
The little crimson blob was fuzzy on the edges, wavering and undulating as Edith tried to dial in her control as she fed it energy from within herself.
"Don't worry about brightness, that comes with strength. Focus on control first. Shape it," Katya said, springing a spherical white witchlight from her fingertip. Edith's eyes shifted over to look at it as it morphed into a more ovoid shape, flattening out sideways.
The ovoid began to rotate slowly at first, then picked up speed, flattening out even more until it was a thin disc. Never so much as wavering in colour, its spun faster and faster until it flew apart into a glowing white thread. Like a curious serpent, the thread coiled up on itself to 'look' straight at Edith.
"That's amazing!" Edith exclaimed.
"It's control. This doesn't take power," Katya nodded at the little construct, "it takes focus." The witchlight thread creature spiralled upwards until it was just a thin line, and then, from the top down, began to dissolve, tiny white sparks raining down until it was gone completely.
"I'll never be able to do tha'," Edith said at her little pool of witchfog.
"Neither could I until two weeks ago," Katya admitted.
Vita's flying witchlights had just been the beginning. With a renewed interest in what could be done with them, Katya had turned her attention to shaping it, the same way she did fire. Her arcane flames had been far easier, almost instinctual, compared to witchlight, which had come as a surprise.
So had the fact she could manage it with a headache that threatened to split her skull in half. But for Edith, she could persist. "Even for a Manifested witch, there is much to learn. Never stop learning."
"Miss Ravenwood says the same thing."
"Of course she does." It was probably on the Ravenwood family crest.
"Don't think about that boy that lives above the baker's, focus on this," Sveta said to a blanch-faced Esther Williams. She shook her head. "No, Victoria is the strict one."
"I can't do this anymore!" Esther shouted suddenly, tears bubbling in the corners of her eyes. Her tiny witchlight vanished and she stomped angrily away a few paces before turning on Sveta. "I hate it when you do that! Stay out of my mind!"
She disappeared out the door.
Sveta looked thunderstruck. Her lips were moving but no words were coming out, and she looked after Esther in abject confusion.
"Excuse me," Katya said to Edith, and went over to Sveta. "What was that about?"
"I didn't… she…" Sveta muttered, but couldn't manage to complete a thought.
"Come for a walk," Katya said in Russian. She didn't make it an invitation.
When they were outside, Sveta barely looked up as she strode directly for the thinking path along the fence.
"Explain," Katya said, her headache giving the word far more bite than she'd intended.
"I'm sorry! It just… came out. I didn't even try to read her."
"Not that. Why did you say those things? You embarrassed her!"
Sveta had done the same thing to Victoria when they'd met, and the thought that Sveta had just wounded another witch with her own thoughts made Katya's every step heavy with disappointment.
"I don't… I didn't mean to. She wouldn't pay attention, and I just… said it."
"What? To punish her?"
"No!"
"To shock her into listening?"
Sveta stopped and turned with pleading eyes. "I don't know, Katya! I remember what I did to Vita, stop berating me! I don't want to know these things. The thoughts just… come out. I don't know where they stop and I start. Others think them, and then so do I. They think them, so they know them, and then I say them out loud, but they're supposed to be private thoughts… I know. I just can't…" Tears swelled in Sveta's haunted eyes, and she pressed her hands against them.
"Oh, Sveta, I'm sorry," Katya said, embracing her sister witch tightly for as long as she could stand to be held.
Warm tears soaked into Katya's shoulder as Sveta heaved with sobs. With one hand in her long auburn hair and another on her back, Katya tried to soothe Sveta as best she could. "I should know better how hard it is by now. I shouldn't have snapped at you."
"I thought I was doing better. I was so proud of myself…"
"I'm still proud of you," Katya said.
"Thank you." Sveta sniffed. "But ever since we learned we're going to France… I'm distracted by my own thoughts, so I take others. Then I can't—"
"Shh," Katya said, stroking the back of Sveta's head, "you don't have to explain. I should have known better. Taken better care."
"I'm not your daughter," Sveta said. "That's what cost you Grace."
Katya swallowed hard, savagely shoving those thoughts aside. "No, you're my sister. And in my Coven. It's my responsibility to look after you and Nastya. Or it should be."
Sveta pulled away just enough to look Katya in the eye, the gold flecks shimmering beneath her tears as if at the bottom of an ancient pond. "I'm sorry about what happened between you two."
"Thank you, but never mind that, this is about you."
"But you deserve to be happy."
"And so do you. Is that why you've been spending so much time in the greenhouse?"
Sveta nodded. "It's quiet there. It's far from other minds… and the smells! I wish you could smell them as I do. See the colours. It's the most beautiful place I've ever been."
"But it shouldn't be a prison, no matter how beautiful."
"It can't be helped," Sveta said, looking away. "I just hurt people when I'm around them."
The bottom fell out of Katya's heart, shattering for the second time in as many days. "No, Sveta. Don't talk like that."
"It's true! I Manifested to protect myself, but it only makes people hate me. It keeps me safe by keeping me isolated…"
"I don't hate you, Sveta. Neither does Nastya. We love you. So does Vita. Millie and Elise, too. We could never."
"You will. If I can't control… this," Sveta jabbed a finger at her head, "you'll hear something you don't want to eventually, and you'll hate me like Esther does. I barely won back Victoria."
"She understands. We all do."
"Then why did you yell at me?" Sveta's eyes were open and raw, and the tiniest grain of salt would be painful beyond imagining. She would know if Katya was lying, and it forced her to assess herself as she only ever reluctantly did, especially today.
"I was shocked. You were doing better, and I forgot how hard that is for you. In that moment, I forgot that there's a lot more going on in here," Katya brushed her hand over Sveta's temple as she drew strands of hair away from her eye, "than I can see. That isn't fair to you."
"That's very kind of you," Sveta said.
"It's the truth. You know that."
Sveta nodded. "I do."
"Here," Katya handed Sveta a handkerchief. "Dry your eyes. I'll try to be a better sister to you from now on. I have time now," she said with a forced smile of self-deprecation.
"Very touching," said a voice from behind them.
Both Russians spun to see a woman neither had seen before. Katya could feel her Manifest, which meant she was a witch, but fire filled Katya's palms anyway.
"Oh, there's no need for that, my dear. I just thought I'd come out to see your little witch factory for myself," the woman said with a disgusted look on her face. Behind it, she was looking at them both like she expected something to happen, but Katya and Sveta just stared at her like the interloper she was.
