Chapter 66

Chapter 66

KALLISTA

T hey bickered like children, these mortals.

Such sad, short lives they had, and they chose to waste it arguing about such trivial matters. It was exhausting.

Kallista tasted their shadows while they argued amongst themselves. The Witch in Yellow, far older than the others, tasted of anger and fear—two scents intrinsically linked in Kallista's experience. Fear made people angry, made them rash. She would be a problem in the council's future, Kallista thought, but a small one. Easily solvable.

The Blue and Brown Witches tasted of sadness, one so deep it would break her. And soon. A pity. The Red Witch was strong, but not as strong as she thought. Another pity.

The Cat's shadow tasted old and sinewy, like wild mutton. It wasn't a bad taste, all things considered. Now he, Kallista found intriguing. The Mother of Shifters had been more Wolf than anything. Did he know that? Did they remember her, all these hundreds of years later?

She began to taste the Vampire's shadow, but Cassiel's eyes shifted to her immediately, flaring in anger. She smiled and gave him an apologetic shrug.

Can't blame a girl for trying, can you?

The council spent another two hours finalizing rules and expectations for future meetings, and each minute spent in that room—surrounded by the scent of fresh death and too much light—felt like an eternity.

Kellos, the tasty Lion, had grown irritated by the end, growling and snapping at the others, before one of the remaining Witches, the soft faced youth in Blue, had declared them finished for the day, and organized the date for their next meeting.

On Kallista and Cassiel's insistence, they agreed to change the meetings to after sundown.

The entire building reeked of death, Kallista noticed as she left. They wouldn't be able to sense it—the Shifters or the Witches. Cassiel Salvatore, maybe. But to her? It was strong enough to burn her nostrils. Omnipresent and overpowering.

Taking great care to breathe through her nose as little as possible, Kallista navigated her way through the palace and to the exit.

The scent of death was strong here, too, but at least it was bearable in the open air of the outdoors. The afternoon sun burned bright and hot in the sky, and though she lacked Cassiel's vulnerability to it, she certainly didn't find it pleasant . Calling the shadows toward her, Kallista spun them together, forming a parasol of deep, impenetrable black. She rested it on her shoulder, letting it block the sunlight, and began to descend the palace steps.

Kallista sensed the Witch immediately but waited until she descended the steps behind her before she stopped and spoke.

"It's rude to sneak up on someone," Kallista said, tilting her parasol just far enough to regard Fey. The Witch stopped, frozen under her stare.

Now this one? Even with just a sliver of shadow available for her to taste, the sun stealing all but a fraction of it, this one tasted like raw power. Kallista breathed it in, savoring the taste like a fine wine.

"How did you know?" the Witch asked, and Kallista couldn't help but smile at her. She was strong, this one. Very, very strong. And brave enough to look her in the eyes, even with all that strength warning her away.

"How did I know about your powers?" Kallista asked and laughed. She turned away, continuing her descent down the steps. "The real question should be how they didn't , with all that power coming off you in there. A blind man could have seen it."

"No," Fey insisted, hurrying down the steps after her. "How did you know I wasn't the one who killed the Queen?"

Ah . That .

Kallista stopped, letting the Witch catch up to her again.

"I saw it in your eyes," Fey continued. "You knew I didn't kill Queen Edelin, the moment I claimed it. How ?"

"Your guilt gave you away."

Fey's eyes flashed. "I don't have any guilt over what happened," she hissed.

"I know," Kallista said. "But your friend did. Two Witches, each claiming to have killed their monarch, but only one felt any sort of guilt. That's what gave you away—you didn't feel anything at all over it."

The Witch finally looked away from her, glancing down at the steps instead.

"Why didn't you say anything, then?" she asked, finally. "Why did you let me protect her?"

Kallista shrugged. "Why should I say anything? What loyalty do I owe to the old regime? To the old Queen? I saw that you were willing to die to save your friend, and I decided to reward that. Don't expect me to make a habit of it."

The Witch still looked unsure.

"You can thank me, you know," Kallista smirked and was rewarded by a furious glare from her.

"I don't like to be in anyone's debt," Fey explained. "Especially someone I don't know. And I don't have any idea who, or what, you are."

"Consider it payment to someone else, then," Kallista told her. "I owe a debt to a Witch I knew a long, long time ago. I never rewarded her loyalty, so instead I'll reward yours, in her honor. You owe me nothing for it, and there is no debt between us."

Still, the Witch didn't leave, and Kallista sighed.

"What else did you want, Fey? I have things I need to do today, and I want to get far away from the smell of this place. "

"It's just… you seem so unfazed by all of this," Fey stated. "Everyone is either panicked or rejoicing over all of this and you seem… so calm."

"I've lived through regime changes before, many, many times, this is nothing new to me. I survived the rise and fall of humans, after all."

"What's a human?" the Witch asked, confused.

Kallista couldn't help but laugh. That would have stuck in their craw, to know how they'd been forgotten . "Oh, horrible things, really. Distant ancestors of yours, I'm sorry to tell you. Though, you have them to thank for this." She waved a hand at the city around them. "Electricity. Internet. They loved to make new things, loved trying to bend the world and its rules to their own desires, even when it fought them every inch of the way."

"What happened to them?"

"Gone. Dead, most of them. Others changed. Adapted. Some developed magic," Kallista smiled at Fey. "Some learned to change their shapes. But most of them died and were replaced. And now they're relics of a forgotten age."

Shifting the parasol against her shoulder, Kallista turned to leave.

"Take care of yourself, Fey," she called over her shoulder. "I hope, for your sake, that we never meet again."