The Breath -Sixth Whale Book 1

*7*

 When Shae got to Ofrin's nobody was home.  She was desperate to find him. Her mind was racing and her heart was pounding. She ran back into the street and asked everyone she passed if they had seen him. Most just shook their heads or ignored her. Old Aggie was the only person with any information and that would come with a price. Shae didn't have any money, He always told her it was the man's job to work and provide. It never struck her as odd that he had never done a days work in his life. If it had then perhaps her mothers' pearls would be safe in the box under their bed and not round the neck of one of the girls at Madame Hounds House of working girls. 

Ofrin if it's not already obvious was not a good person. However, the punishment he endured didn't fit the crime and even after his death, you might expect the angry mob to give the body enough respect to burn it or dump it off the edge. What they actually did was driven purely by an evil sickness. At every alley leading in and out of the halves, the left a post and impaled on or tied to these posts were dismembered body parts of Ofrin and his group. Carved into each one was a message. 

Death to Witches.

Thandre was summoned the second the posts began appearing. They were outside the boundary of the barrier, but plenty visible to anyone walking through the area. He told the witches to spread the word not to take them down themselves in case the ones who placed them were setting a trap to lure more witches out. It got to one witch too late, she was able to get back inside but not without receiving some nasty injuries. This was not his first witchhunt nor was it the worst, however never before had he so little influence over the witches in his care. They wouldn't listen to him and this was just the start. 

He removed them by extending the barrier as he moved and taking them back. His potential attackers were confused but they could understand what was happening once he had moved further away. Humans were harder than ants. He had the wizard drag a covered cart round and carefully placed the various parts, inside. Each wrapped carefully with a cloth. Shae had found Ofrin's head before he had been able to reach it.

 A strapping young man was holding her back as she screamed and tried to run out of the barrier. Her nails were scratching at his arm and Thandre could see the angry welts rising. He came up to them and like he did with Lily earlier waved his hand over her eyes. Shae went limp. 

" You can put her down now. If she has family bring them here and help them take her to my cabin, there are rooms in the attic." The large young man nodded respectfully. He wasn't a warlock but there were others of magic blood. There was ogre in his veins, and the ogre's of the halves had rumours about the witchfather. From the times when there was a forest, not a city. He placed Shae gently, leaning her against one of the buildings. Then the young man hurried off. 

 Thandre looked at the young warlock's head, the magic had left his hair and it was caked with blood. He carefully wrapped it and put it in the cart. It was going to be a long night tonight. He waited for Shae's family to arrive and once a sour young woman appeared he gestured to the wizard to follow him again. Before he could go the young woman grabbed his arm. 

" He's really dead." Her voice was earnest, pleading. Thandre nodded and the girl nearly slipped a smile, her eyes were cold. 

"Good." She nodded and went to her sister's side. Clearly, no love was lost on that front.

It was dusk by the time Thandre and Donnie had finished the gruesome task of collecting the bodies. Their next task wasn't going to be any better. They bought the cart around the back of the cabin and carefully laid out several large sheets on the ground. Thandre sent Donnie inside while he set about assembling the bodies like a gruesome set of puzzles. Once he was done he let his magic knit the dead flesh and bone back together and cleaned away the blood and dirt. He erased the message carved into the flesh and stepped back to check his work. They couldn't be bought back, he wasn't capable of that but at least now they could be returned to their families and given the appropriate send off to the next life. He called Donnie back out and he helped wrap each body gently in the sheets like cocoons. After that, he bought out Gilly and Mae to see if they knew the families of the deceased. Once they had a list of names and faces they were gone. For the next of that night, there was banging at the door. Hysterical families came for their Daughters, Sisters, Cousins, Nieces and Aunts. Those who couldn't carry their dead were assisted by Donnie and Gilly. Neither spoke much that night, respecting the solemn task they were undertaking.

Nobody came for Ofrin. Mae hadn't spread the word of his death yet herself, by morning all the little misfits he collected like toys would come, but they wouldn't take him from Shae, not until she had her chance to say goodbye. Thandre had more people living and dead in his home than he could possibly want. Perhaps life was challenging him. He had offered a room to Donnie, and he had to keep an eye on Lily and Shae but there were also Mae and Gilly, who most certainly did have homes to go to. Homes that weren't that far away. He lit a candle for Ofrin and waited, he made a promise to Vern and now the others were sleeping upstairs he sat as the night watch.

Across the halves, the air was dense with the stench of funeral pyres and the night had an orange tinge. Vern felt a tightness in his chest. He had learnt of the day's events late as he packed away his few and precious belongings from the basement of the Smiths. He walked the streets and the darkness wasn't just caused by the absence of the sun. Fear, distress and heartbreak muddied the air. It wasn't just that, in the rented rooms that so many younger witches occupied anger and hunger festered.

He tapped gently on the cabin door and it swung open without so much as a sound. Thandre was standing in the doorway and moved aside to let Vern in. 

" There are considerably more people sleeping upstairs than I would have liked so we will have to speak quietly." He whispered to his guest, who nodded in response. 

" Come have a seat." As Vern sat down he heard the sound of snores from upstairs. 

" So you don't feel like a witch." Vern nodded again. 

" There's some technically forbidden magic. I can use it to make some physical changes, deeper voice, redistribution of fat, your cycle may stop and you could grow facial hair." Vern scratched at the back of his thumb. 

" What do I have to do?" He asked in a hushed voice. 

" You'll mostly have to be patient. It will take months to see the effects but to start it's simple. You take one of these pills a day. I will teach you how to make them. In a minimum of six months, I should be able to remove your breasts and following your recovery that makes some changes to your reproductive organs. I can't make you fertile. it's old magic and It doesn't work miracles but it can help you be who you are and not what others think you ought to be." Thandre handed Vern a small glass bottle. 

" One a day if you want to take this path." Vern took the bottle and held it so gently an onlooker might think it would break if so much as an eyelash landed on it. 

They talked for a bit longer mostly about the upcoming apprenticeship and each had a cup of nettle tea. When Lily screamed, Vern jumped and spilt his over himself. Thandre seemed unsurprised by this interruption and encouraged Vern to head home for the night. The young warlock seemed reluctant to go but clutching his new prize desperately he gave his thanks and left.

Lily had no idea where she was. In the bed next to her lay Shae and Mae. She was surprised to see them together since Ofrin... Then just like that she remembered and let out a scream, before melting into quiet sobs. It all had to have been a nightmare. She couldn't have escaped something so horrible surely. If it weren't for Shae and Mae, Lily would have thought she too must be dead. As she cried to herself in a ball cocooned in a duvet she felt the mattress dip. The witchfather was sat at the end of the bed looking at her. His silver eyes were full of sorrow and kindness. " Lily. you are safe here and so many join me downstairs for some tea, or you may stay up here if you wish. Tomorrow when it's light I shall escort you home. I recommend not being alone." Lily wasn't listening she just continued to cry to herself. Thandre sat and waited with her until she had cried herself back to sleep.

Thandre was feeling exhausted too and headed back down to his bed. If he were alone he would visit Derys, but right now there were too many people. He settled into bed and let out an exhausted yawn. Perhaps tomorrow would be better.