Cyberwitch Academy: Learn or Burn

Chapter 78

The first thing I become aware of is the cold.

The second is the ropes.

The feel of all this rough twine on my naked skin.

But this feeling is disconnected. Like there is a version of myself outside of me, observing the pain.

Sedatives.

I'm so out of it. Words come slowly. A thought nagging at me.

Why is my right thumb tied to my left big toe?

I can see, but it's taking real work to piece together an idea of what it is that I'm seeing.

I'm on the front bit of a big boat? Like a military boat? Oh, of course. The HMS Belfast.

I turn my head. The only freedom I have right now.

To my left a hooded man, big and strong, hunters' uniform, holding ropes that connect to me. And to my right the same. I'm right on the edge, balanced on a platform built onto the railing of the ship.

I can hear the Thames lapping at the river bank way below me.

And now she appears, looming over me out of the night. Looking me up and down with clear delight. Unmasked. She's no longer playing the role of a concerned public servant with a tough job to do. She looks like what she is at last, an all-out psychopath enjoying a puppet show of her own creation.

Marketta La Fey.

Even my terror feels like it's happening to someone else. I'm so nerfed. Can't feel the rhizome at all.

Wait, didn't I have a plan? Wasn't I supposed to do something to her?

She cups my jaw, gently in her left hand. Never noticed she was left-handed. She tips my head to meet her gaze. Inspects me like I'm her work of art and she's looking to make the final brush stroke.

She's close enough to start the process, make the connection, but I can't control my rhizome. I can't hear the voice, can't summon the shivers. Barely remembering to breathe.

She turns to a gathering crowd of witch hunters and begins to speak.

"Who in London has the courage to face up to the responsibility that we bear?"

A muttering of approval.

"Who in the Republic is ready to admit that harsh measures are required to defend the innocents of London?"

A muffled cheer.

"These people are not human. And human laws do not apply. Sometimes the old ways are the best. And if you have any doubts among you, quash them. History will vindicate us. We will be remembered as heroes."

They go wild for this one.

"Ursula Loveless, you stand accused of witchcraft! You will be swum as a witch! If she fleets upon old father Thames, bobbing about like a cork, rejected from the waters as unholy and impure. Then she is a witch!"

I remember now, from school. A project on the witch crazes of old Europe. Ducking witches. Drowning old women in the village pond. I know I survived drowning just a few days ago. But I don't know, right now nothing seems to work anymore. Is this the end?

She comes real close. So close I can feel her breath on my cheek. She inhales slow and deep. Whispering in my ear.

"All I really want is you, Ursula. Just say the word and I'll make it all stop. We can tear apart this pathetic world, ride the very limits of our powers. Burn away all this fucking mediocrity."