How Shadows Turn to Ash

Chapter 24: Octavia

Octavia threw herself from the seat. When she looked back, the siren had changed again, eyes dark and face morphing into something that resembled her mother. Octavia kept moving to the exit, somehow out of breath, as she heard Staël get up to follow her.

"Octavia?" she asked, grabbing her arm. Octavia went to jerk away but froze when her katar almost pressed against Staël's skin. "What did you see?"

Octavia didn't want to answer. Even if she did, she didn't know what to say. Outside of shifting into Antonia, something about the siren unsettled her in a way that left her skin crawling.

"Alright," Staël said when Octavia didn't respond. "Let's just look at the shops, then."

Octavia hadn't even noticed the shops—if they could be called that. Between the animal cages were small stands with various trinkets on them. Some were figurines of the animals, while others were small toys for children. Another was-

"Magic," Octavia smiled, seeing the familiar vials splayed on a shelf. A man from behind the stand grunted as they approached. "I didn't know they sold magic here."

"All used," the man said as if that was a selling point. Octavia tilted her head. "By the performers." Oh. Octavia hadn't realized that was a thing, though she remembered her father once joking that people would probably pay to use any magic Octavia's hands had touched. She hadn't thought any part of that was serious. They were just the ramblings of a proud father.

Looking down at the vials, she picked up some earth magic, waiting to feel the familiar tingle that signaled it was ready to be absorbed. Nothing. Octavia couldn't feel anything through the glass vial. Her scarred hands twitched.

She turned to Staël. "Why don't you buy some?" Octavia asked, holding out the bottle. Staël gave her a bemused smile. "For the farm. It'll help the crops grow, and the animals will have more grass to graze on-"

"I know it would be helpful to have earth magic," Staël said, plucking the bottle from Octavia's hand. "It would also be helpful to have water magic or fire magic. We can't afford any."

Octavia stared at her, trying to do the math in her head.

"But... I've seen your farm. It is a good fifty acres." Octavia wondered if Jacques and Staël did everything themselves or had help. She certainly hadn't seen any other farmhands while she was there. "Even without magic, you'd make a reasonable profit of...." She ticked her fingers off. "Maybe a thousand coins a year? That's... what? About eighty coins a month? You'd need ten for food, twenty for the animals and farm equipment, and another ten for general upkeep." She wrinkled her nose. "Five for new clothes or shoes. Maybe ten more for something fun? Taxes would be another five-"

"Forty."

Octavia stopped. "Forty?" she repeated. Staël placed the vial back on the shelf. "Forty a month? That isn't right. Who's your tax collector?"

Was this another piece of the rebellion they had missed? Were Revolutionaries coming to steal money under the guise of tax collectors?

"I suppose nobody now," Staël mused and thoughtfully picked the vial back up. At Octavia's face, she looked down at the ground, hiding a grimace. "Your father needed plenty of men stationed in Dualis. That wasn't cheap."

"What?" Octavia asked, shaking her head. "I- no. We only have a few men stationed in Dualis."

Staël turned the vial in her hand, thumb running over the label. "Octavia," she said, voice far more patient than before. "Why did Romanov wage war against Dualis?"

This again. It was a question Octavia had been dancing around, a niggling feeling in her stomach whenever someone brought it up. She knew the next words out of Staël's mouth could be lies... or maybe that's just what she hoped.