Page 49 of Catastrophe

Some had just awoken as I had and rubbed their heads. They whimpered as they tried to wake their friends. I remembered the feeling the first time I woke up in captivity; the memory haunts me.

Much like the cage in the cave, a fuzzy blue magic outlined the bars. But what hunters use magic to capture supernatural beings? Are they not human? Or do they have a witch they used to do their spells?

It was puzzling, to say the least, but I’d learn more about my captors when they showed themselves. As more witches stirred, I realized this moment couldn’t have been the one from Daithi’s vision. He said I was alone in a cage and being taunted. I relaxed slightly, glad to know my suffering may not be as imminent as first assumed.

Ingrid, Karin’s mother, sobbed loudly, and her husband, the miserable doctor, consoled her with light touches and hushed words along with other awake witches. But she crawled away from them to peer down at the faces of the unconscious witches and cried, “Karin. Karin. My daughter, where are you? Please … please …”

Clawdia visited Karin, so if Karin was here, so would Clawdia, and I didn’t want her to lie on the cold floor if she could lie safely in my arms. Yet I remained still, uncertain of my reception here and, more importantly, aware that moving might bring attention from our captors.

Ingrid got more hysterical as she continued to check the faces of the other captives and didn’t find her daughter. By the time she checked the last unconscious witch, she was screaming again. “Oh, my daughter, where could you be? Why aren’t you here with us?”

I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe Clawdia and Karin are safe somewhere else.

The witch next to her gently stroked her arm and said, “Is it not better that she isn’t here, Ingrid? I understand your worry, but I think you need to be more concerned for yourself and everyone else here.”

Ingrid ignored her and wailed, “She’s dead. I just know it. I know she didn’t escape. The brutes killed her. She was such a fragile girl.”

“Oh, stop with the hysterics, Ingrid,” a red-haired witch snapped from the opposite corner. She sneered at Karin’s parents as she hugged a younger witch’s unconscious body to her chest and stroked her hair. “It’s Karin’s fault we are here. She can rot for all I care.”

Silence fell, and all eyes turned to her. She didn’t seem unnerved. She continued to ignore everyone, but her jaw was stiff, and her eyes blazed with anger.

“What do you mean by that?” a familiar voice asked from the left of the cell. Alex, the daemon representative from the supernatural council, pushed himself into a sitting position, crossed his arms, and glared at the redhead.

“Is it not obvious?” The witch scoffed. “A girl who had so little magic herself used the wards to siphon magic, not just from the wards, but from her family and all of us stupid enough to take refuge on that cursed island. Wards that failed and allowed hunters to gather us up like pigs to slaughter. She probably organized the collection herself.”

The doctor’s face turned red, and he shook as he shouted, “Blasphemy!”

Ingrid’s voice cracked as she replied, “We gave you shelter, welcomed you, fed you, and this is how you repay that hospitality?”

Ingrid’s friend, who continued patting Ingrid’s back, glared at the witch and hissed, “You speak of black magic. No witch can do dark magic. All the teachings are lost. As they should be.”

“Lost to the largest collector of witch teachings in the world? I don’t think so.” The witch shook her head, the disgust on her face clear.

Marianne, the vampire representative for the council, interrupted the next tense silence. “Do you know something we don’t? Do you have evidence for these accusations?”

“Karin drained my magic for a ward that was supposed to protect us, and yet that ward failed, and the girl is not here.”

“Don’t you talk nonsense about my daughter!” Ingrid shouted, spittle flying from her mouth as she pointed threateningly.

“But how did the wards fail? And why, in that exact moment, did the hunters find us?” The red-headed witch threw her hand wildly, gesturing to the cage. “And are we all going to ignore the fact that hunters took us, yet we now sit in a witch-made cage spell? Who else could have been the one who led us to our doom?”

The accusations sent a chill down my spine. If Karin caused our capture, what did she do to Clawdia? Where is my soul pair?

Ingrid screamed and charged the outspoken witch. “You shut your filthy mouth!”

Her husband grabbed her and held her back before she could do anything, and she fought him until he whispered something in her ear. As she settled into his arms and her glare lessened, the tension eased.

And then someone close to me whispered, “Why are we even alive? They are hunters. What reason would they have for capturing us instead of simply killing us all?”

Someone else whimpered. “Torture? Maybe they want us to give up our secrets?”

“Torture?” a voice from across the cage squeaked.

“Well, what did you think was going to happen?” snapped another angry and stressed witch.

Another muttered, “We were all trying not to think about it.”

While the same high-pitched voice echoed, “Torture?” again.

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