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Tafel rubbed her chin and stared up at the ceiling. What Ursula had said pretty much convinced Tafel that the soothsayer could read the future. Although Tafel didn’t know what the line, when the lowest of the low do sing, meant, the rest was pretty clear and obvious. Dragons were going to descend on the land, and it seemed like Auntie Lindyss was coming too. Maybe Sera got worried about Vur since he was gone for so long and decided to look for him. She shook her head and lowered it. “Well, what can the rest of you do? Are you all soothsayers?”
Ursula stepped to the side, and a woman stepped forward. She looked to be about twenty years old, wearing a simple dress. “My name is Agnes Waterhouse,” she said towards Tafel, staring at the demon’s feet instead of her face. “Ursula convinced me to come on this trip here, saying we’d avoid a dreadful fate if we appeared in this town on this day. In fact, the majority of us have gathered due to her words, traveling on a journey that has lasted over two years. I am a witch, and I have a demonic familiar named Sathan. By feeding him bread, milk, and a drop of my blood, he can fulfill any of my desires. I’ve sold my soul to him.” She bent down and picked up a white cat that was lying in a basket. “This is he.”
Tafel stared at the cat. There didn’t seem to be anything special about it. Was it really magical? “Is it like a genie, able to grant any wish?” she asked. “Can you demonstrate its abilities?”
Agnes pursed her lips. “What would you like me to ask him to do?”
“Well, what can he do?”
“Sathan’s previous owner used him to kill a wealthy man who wouldn’t take responsibility. As for me, I’ve only asked Sathan to kill a pig because I didn’t believe he could do it. After that, I’ve had him kill a few of my nosy neighbor’s geese and cows.”
Tafel furrowed her brow. It turns out the cat wasn’t like a genie at all. Wasn’t it just a cat that could understand orders? Maybe it was a bit special since it could kill a man and some cows. Either way, it didn’t seem too special: It was just a magical beast at most. Tafel nodded. “What about the rest of you?”
“My name is Ann the Weaver,” a woman said and stepped forward after Agnes moved aside to stand next to Ursula. “I can summon a storm.”
Tafel’s eyes widened. “Summon a storm? Can you show me?”
The woman named Ann nodded. She clasped her hands together, and her eyes rolled up to the top of her head, revealing her whites. An unearthly scream escaped from her mouth as her back arched. Seconds later, she collapsed to the ground in a heap. The few peasants standing at the door of the church murmured, and the group of witches gathered around Ann, picking her up to shift her into a more comfortable position. Tafel blinked twice and asked, “Uh, was that a part of the process?”
A clap of thunder answered her. Rain pelted the windows, and the peasants outside shouted as they went to seek shelter. The doors were sucked shut by a sudden gust of wind, banging and shaking the doorframe. The building seemed to sway, and Thomas dropped to his knees in prayer. Tafel focused her gaze on the ceiling, where the pitter-pattering of the raindrops drummed against the wood. It buckled, creaking and groaning as if it’d collapse at any moment. Tafel swallowed and looked at Ann the Weaver, who was still sleeping with her back propped up by a wall. Summoning a storm was truly an impressive ability, but the backlash and incantation were a bit awkward to deal with.
“Your Excellency,” another witch said, bringing Tafel out of her train of thought. “My name—”
“Wait,” Tafel said, holding out her hand. “I’m going to be completely honest with all of you. There’s more than three thousand peasants following me, and so far, I’ve learned a total of five of their names despite traveling with them for two months. I’ve already forgotten the previous witches’ names, and I’m going to forget yours as well. Just tell me what you can do.”
The witch pursed her lips, but she didn’t express her displeasure in any other way. “I can calm storms.”
Tafel looked at the passed-out witch and raised an eyebrow. “She must hate you, huh?”
“On the contrary, she and I get along together quite well,” the witch said. She clasped her hands together and immediately collapsed into a heap. The pattering of the rain died down, and sunlight shone through the windows as the clouds in the sky dispersed.
“Your Excellency,” a different witch said. “I can speak to ghosts.”
“Oh?” Tafel blinked. Was this woman a necromancer? “Are there any ghosts here now?”
“I don’t know,” the witch said.
“You don’t know? Didn’t you say you could speak with ghosts?”
“No, I said I can speak to ghosts not with ghosts.” The woman shook her head. “I can’t see them, but if there are any ghosts nearby they can hear me when I speak.”
A wry smile appeared on Tafel’s lips. If that was the case, wasn’t everyone a witch? The woman cleared her throat as if sensing Tafel’s doubt. “I know it sounds farfetched, but I’ll demonstrate it for you now. If there are any ghosts in this room, let your presence be known!” There was a creaking sound, and a rake that was in the corner of the room toppled over. The woman looked at Tafel. “See?”
Tafel scratched her head. Maybe she was being a bit reckless when she thought no one in this world could harm her. At least the powers she saw so far didn’t seem to be life-threatening. She turned towards the remaining witches, waiting for them to explain their abilities as well.
One woman stepped forward. “I can jump through walls. I can’t walk or run through them, only jump.”
A strange expression appeared on Tafel’s face. “And … how did you discover you had this ability?”
The woman bit her lower lip. “I…, I don’t want to talk about it.”