The Wailing Woman

77. The Queen's Spy

The longer she stared out the window the more the trees and other greenery would be blurred together like a painting. It started to make her head hurt. Rose looked away from the window and turned to the witches in front of her—Nora Del Luna and Dilara Arslan sat quietly opposite of her. Despite their calmness and fake normalcy, calling them 'witches' was such a tame word in comparison to what these two women were capable of. 

Rose had witnessed their destructive power and the many, many, precious lives they took.

Now, Rose sat across them and would be stuck with them on this train for two days and eight hours. She was grateful for the spacious private room Nora had paid for them. There were at least two roll-out beds if they wanted to sleep later at night. Rose doubted any of them would. They all still felt the need to be on high alert. The good thing was she had a lot on her mind to think about. 

Her mind was more awake than ever.

Dilara busied herself winding Nora's fingers in silver wire to keep them from stiffening and then wrapped her entire hand into a black bandage. Rose thought gloves would be a better solution for concealing The Crier's hands. Perhaps, she should tell Dilara in the future if The Crier still wanted to hide herself. Meanwhile, the lion-witch tended to each of Nora's fingers, she stared out of the window with an unreadable expression as the rabbit laid in her lap curled.

She didn't want to know what Nora was thinking. But it did make Rose wonder a little because Nora had been missing for three days, and she had changed in that time. It wasn't her physical appearance anymore, it was her entire personality. And she hadn't changed for the better but for the worse. Something had broken inside of Nora. Her eyes were lifeless than before—more colder than a winter night—colder than a corpse.

Rose shivered despite not meeting her eyes.

It had only been two days since Nora returned, but she vividly remembered those three miserable days without Nora. It sprung an impatience and panic into Dilara when she realized her friend hadn't come back even after sunrise. The lion witch didn't waste any time and tried every spell she knew to find Nora until on the day of Nora's reappearance, she almost used dark magic.

Dilara came marching into the living room with thick, old books coated in black and plum. She placed them on top of the vintage polished coffee table with a loud thud. Rose nearly fainted at the sight of one of the table legs wobbling. It seemed as if Dilara had no idea the coffee table wasn't just any ordinary house decor. 

She remembered seeing a similar one at one of her mother's friend's mansion. He claimed it cost him twenty thousand. Most of the items in The Carpturer's home were of exquisite and expensive taste, from the carpet to the sofa to a flower vase to a teaspoon. Everything in here was valuable. But that didn't matter to them.

The fireplace produced more orange flames as Dilara sat closer to it. The lion witch released a breath as she stared at the books. Rose slowly walked and stole a glance at the books. They were leather-bound with engravings of symbols and sigils drawn on top of each other except for one. Its unique lines resemble the moon. Rose got closer.

"Are those Nora's spell books?" she asked.

Dilara seemed hesitant to answer. "They belonged to her father, but yes they're her books now." she paused, then said. "The spells in this book are not of simple magic. It's made of dark magic, and anyone who uses it always has a price to pay." she swallowed.

Rose still didn't know much about Dilara or Nora, but from the days she spent with them she quickly gathered their differences. Dilara fought her way through the darkness, unlike Nora who danced in it. And yet, they protected each other like sisters.