“Okay, well, how do we get that evidence then?”

“Also, how would we get it to them? A letter, one of us actually going-?” Wey starts, but Masy catches onto him.

“One of us? What are you tryin’ to say there, brother?”

He looks at her sternly, jaw set and eyes unwavering. “I’m saying that if someone is going, it’s going to be me. I am the oldest, and I have the most believable excuse to go on a trip like that. Every witch that comes of age travels.”

“No!” Masy, Iren, and Ebony say in unison.

“If we go, we go together! At least take me with you!” Masy scolds.

“No, I-“ Wey is about to argue but Ebony cuts him off.

“We can talk about this later, first we need to figure out what we are doing. We might not even have to go; mail is a good idea.” She says.

He looks as though he was Wey is about to say something more, but he settles back.

“Um,” I start, “my father works somewhere in the Conclium, I don’t know where or if he still does, but there is always the chance that he would not believe us and that he could persuade the members to not accept us.”

“I guess that explains why you seem to be so powerful.” Masy mumbles, and I suppose she is right. The Conclium De Malficus accepts largely only those who show high aptitude for magic.

“Your father really works somewhere in the Conclium!” Iren blurts.

I nod.

“Well… none of that is a guarantee, so we should still at least try.” Ebony says.

“But what of evidence?”

Everybody falls silent to think.

Iren perks up. “Evika, didn’t you say you had stuff that may help?”

I nod and draw out the history book, flipping to the page that carries the paper. “I took some notes on a history text, it might be slightly usefully for something…” I say as I hand it to Iren, and it goes around for everybody to look over.

“Where did you find this book?” Iren asks.

“My mother had it.” I answer.

“I’ve never heard anything about a… parasitic element.” She says, looking even more worried.

I look at her, puzzled. “That is a big reason of why it was banned!” I look around the group, and see to my relief that everyone else is agreeing with me.

“It looks for a host, and keeps it alive for as long as possible, feeding off of them, spreading any way possible. It takes over the mind of the person, almost as if the only thing they can think about is it.” Ebony explains briefly.

Iren looks horrified. “And that well known?”

We nod.

“Then why the fuck would they use it?!” Wey snickers at her outrage but looks equally terrified.

“That’s what I have been trying to puzzle out,” I say, “but what is more important is stopping them before it completely takes hold. There is still time.” I ignore the voice in my head that correct me with a there may still be time.

“Like you said, we need evidence. What if we try to catch them in the act?” Masy suggests.

“That won’t work, we need physical evidence!” Wey says.

“Actually… there may be a way. Isn’t there a way to look into ones memories, Evika? You might know more about this than I do.” Iren turns to me hopefully.

I think for a second, the facts just at the tip of my tongue.

“Yes… yes! I do remember learning somewhere that with anamancy, the animal connection magic, some are able to briefly peer into other minds! I don’t know how direct it is, if it emotion or image or sound, but it is an option.”

“Intromancy!” Ebony blurts. “Your talking about intromancy, the magic inside the mind! It is possible, and they do have people at the Conclium who are capable of this. Its basically a very deep form of anamancy on humans.”

I nod. It would make sense that she knows more about this since she is a nexum, one from the cult which connects more deeply with animals, as a sylvania such as myself and Iren connect with plants.

“If we do that, we have to go there ourselves.” Wey points out, though he is the only one whom seems to have reservations about doing so.

“If we want to attempt to mail it, we could try to capture some of the trace inuriagi.” Masy offers again.

“No! That could be very dangerous! Just as poison ivy, if you touch it you could become infected. I don’t want anyone to risk that.” I quickly interfere. “Even if we successfully capture it, the jar could break and even the smallest residue could have an effect. And that’s not even mentioning the possibility of leakage!”

“I think our best bet is to watch it and bring ourselves to the Conclium. Evika is right, any interaction we have with it is bad, and we could be putting Conclium members in danger that way.”

Wey starts to protest but Iren cuts him off and Masy lightly elbows him in the stomach.

“So then how do we catch it? We can’t just ask politely to sit in on the next inuriagi session… can we?”

“I’m not saying that is not an option, but then how would we get away? They would get suspicious. I do think at least one of them would let us in. their whole goal is to stay alive and multiply; what better way to do that than train the young?” I speak.

“We are no-” Masy shoves Wey to the side.

“We could put a watch where I find the traces of inuriagi! Hide in the trees or something and just always be watching.” She pauses. “It would only have to be at night since I don’t think they are doing in broad daylight” she laughs, and I am envious of her ability to remain seemingly unfazed by all of this.

“That’s… actually a good idea!” Ebony exclaims.

I look at Masy.

“Are there trees with a good line of sight on it?” I ask. When she nods, I turn to look at Iren.

“We can form the branches into an inconspicuous platform hidden in leaves and other branches, with an easy climb up if you know where to look so that we are less likely to be heard going up and down.” I offer, and Iren eagerly agrees.

“Well Ms. Lengthy Explanation, why don’t I show you the perfect tree for that.” Masy says.

We follow her to the edge of the grove where it fades to grass before the river. There is a mature oak about seventeen yards from the bank of the river. Me, Iren, and Wey walk around the tree.

“Where is it that you found the inuriagi?” I ask.

“Right there by the side of the bank” she responds, and she motions towards the river. There is a clear patch a yard from the river, decently big, and as I look back up at the oak, I estimate that we will be able to see everything in the patch as Masy had said.

We go about investigating the oak, and I find a suitably stable path up to a decently hidden limb in the twisting twigs and branches.

“I think it should be easier if we knew exactly what to do.” I muse, peering down to the group, trying to see at what point am I most hidden.

“I can sketch it if that would help. Give you a base to go off of.” Wey offers.

“That would be wonderful, Wey!” I call down.

Iren climbs up to join me. We discuss what spell should be most effective, if we should use oils as aid, how we would go about creating the platform. Eventually, we decide on a bottom panel woven out of thick sticks, but not branches, for that might be too conspicuous, and a dome of similar sticks that should be full of leaves in a few months, but until then we should encourage moss growth.

Climbing down, we find that Wey has drawn up a rough sketch of a narrow, slightly rolling platform, covered by branches who’s sprouting sticks hide us like a child’s hand cups a bug. He had confided in Masy to place inconspicuous holes approximately facing towards where Masy said would be best to watch

“That looks really good! We can do that.” I say.

“I see someone takes after their father.” Iren comments, nudging him.

He blushes and hands it over to us.

I look at the sun and hesitate.

“I… actually should be going soon.”

They nod.

“Should we start tomorrow? I don’t think I can start this alone.” Iren says.

I glance through my schedule in my mind for a moment before shaking my head.

“I am too busy with chores, the day after would be perfect though.”

They nod again and we say our goodbyes.

I head to the market and get an extra loaf of bread before going home, aware that I am delaying.

Finally getting back home, I enter to my room quietly, dropping off the bread in the kitchen, peeking around each corner to avoid…

I don’t know.

I don’t want to know.

I refrain from taking out the worn stack of letters, convincing myself that in a matter of months, they will be back. Many months, but less than a year.

I have waited this long, I can wait a little longer.

After lying on my bed, soaking up the sun that leaks in through a windows on the wall opposite, I drag myself up and tug on my bag once again.

Creeping through the house once more, I slip out into the woods with the rest of the day ahead of me, choosing to act as if nothing had changed as significantly as it had. I unpack my book and work on the spell I am working on for most of what was left of the sun, practicing the molding of trees plants for the rest.

It is an interesting task attempting to persuade the bushes that I start with to go exactly where I want them, how thick I want them, and still have it look chaotic in that natural way. By no means am I good at it, but I continue to practice until the sun finishes setting and bit by bit it looks better, working up from bushes to trees of different varieties. Once I do leave my pasture, however, I make sure to try to bring the plants back into their prior form, somehow a harder task than forming it, as I have to un-grow some of it.

I don’t perfect the task of forming them back to their prior position, but it look ls natural enough that I finally head home for good.

A now terrifying prospect.

Over the next few days, my mother had me quite busy, and an entire week goes by before I am able to reconvene with the others.

As I discreetly approach the bare tree along the river, I see that some things about it have changed.

Iren had started while I was gone, and as soon as I arrived we climbed up to our soon to be platform and got to work. It was already partially formed and it was a relatively simple task to finish the bottom panel. Then, weaving upwards, we got started on the most important side; the front. This task was much more laborious, and we would work for a minute or two, working up the sides, then run down with Wey to see how the progress looked. Then, taking anything we noted into consideration, we would start that process over again. By mid-noon, my muscles had begun to ache with every movement. I had never used so much magic in one day,and was not prepared for the effects it would have on my body. Although we had learned as children at one time or another that magic was like a muscle and could just as easily be overworked or exhausted, none of us had gotten near that point before. Looking beside me a pace, my neck squeaking a subtle protest, I can see that Iren was in even worse wear than I.

Letting my hands fall from my current work, I give a sigh as I collapse onto the platform from the kneeling position I had shared with Iren, I sigh.

“We should take a break.”

She gives an equal sigh as she falls and lays on the small space we have created, arms outstretched, chest heaving beneath her brown and purple stained blouse.

We had taken off our coats and even our waistcoats for more, it being a particularly warm day and we were working hard, enjoying the welcome bite of the air to cool our skin, and not withing to get such re-usable garments excessively dirty.

I hear a grumble and Iren clutches her stomach, reminding me that we haven’t eaten since we started and I realize how hungry I am.

Iren laughs and sits up, saying, “Let’s get something to eat.”

After a hearty snack of pickled sweet potatoes, crackers, and fruit, we stretch out on the bank for a while, joking and talking, passing the time.

After a while, Masy asks, “So, should you guys get back to the tree?”

Me and Iren look at each other, and I can see the exhaustion in her eyes, mirroring what I feel in my bones.

“There are only a few hours of light left already, we spent over half the day on it, I think we are done for now.” She says, laughing, and we join her.

We stay sitting by the bank for almost another hour before slowly breaking apart to our duties. As it happens I am the last to be called, and I stand as Masy does, walking with her towards the village before veering off to the part of the forest where red trillium is most abundant along side the more tended to and planted columbine. Carefully picking the flowers, I count out the rest of the amount I need and add them gently to my bag.

Once I arrive home, I dredge past the oily feeling as I have through these other days, pretending nothing happened, and get to work in my room making the necklaces, bracelets, and anklets.

Looping together the length of stem I kept on each with a bit of the twine I had been making for the past few days, I make two sets of each, all having one columbine tucked between the rest of the flowers. With tomorrow being the festival, I work late into the night, finally finishing four hours after the sun had gone down, my only break being to eat.

Finally, I set aside the finished work and dropped into my bed.

Tomorrow night is going to be a big night.

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I am sitting in a big castle.

A desk is in front of me.

I am working tirelessly on something, writing something. I can’t make out the words.

A headache pierces my skull, and I scrunch over, holding my temples.

My skirt is blue, and in a very different style, thick and lightly ruffled rather than light and ruffled heavily.

The headache won’t stop.

Now there is pain in my side, stabbing my abdomen, something is coarse and scraping against my skin, something is ringing in my ears, why are the shadows moving?

The shadows are like kelpies, half solid, half formed, constantly moving fine shapes, and coming for me.

They form as they leave their corners and turn into man-looking monsters with fangs bigger than any I have seen, claws long and mutilated, holding something long, slithering, brown, and that feels like fire.

Not this again.