A Court of Dark and Decay

Chapter 31- The Witches of Windhaven

Nesta knocked on Iona's door. There was a mild shuffling from inside, followed by a chipper Iona calling from the other side of the door, 

"Come in!" 

The door groaned as Nesta opened it. The warmth of the room spilled over her, a stark contrast from the cold outside. 

Iona was sitting in a chair by the counter, cutting something up to put into the pot of stew steaming on the fireplace. It smelled divine. 

When Iona turned and saw Nesta, her face went hard. Nesta said nothing, just quietly closed the door and stepped into the space, waiting for Iona. 

To do what, Nesta wasn't sure. But still, she stood waiting. 

Iona slowly stood from the chair. Nesta had not seen Iona at her full height for quite some time, and had forgotten just how intimidating the female was. With her skeletal wings still wrapped, she looked almost angelic. 

Finally, Iona spoke. 

"Is it done?" She whispered, her voice a crackling echo of the fire. 

Nesta nodded. 

The female sighed, as if a weight had left her shoulder. She limped the few steps to the table and motioned for Nesta to sit across from her. 

"My brother was a monster." She said, rubbing her face. The sun streamed through the window and perfectly illuminated Iona's hair, highlighting it with gold. 

Nesta untied the small pouch from her waist and placed it on the table between them. 

"I killed him like one." Nesta said, looking at the pouch. 

Gross warning!!

Iona tilted her head, confused. 

Nesta nodded to the bag. 

Carefully, Iona reached out and opened the drawstrings. 

The emotions passed over her face in seconds. 

Confusion, realization, disgust, disbeleif. 

"Nesta..." Iona breathed, "What..what are those?" 

Perhaps she was a monster. Nesta was starting to think she didn't mind. 

"I made sure he had to watch. He couldn't close his eyes." She said, plainly and simply. 

Iona's face twisted in horror. 

"Those are his eyelids?" 

Nesta nodded. She expected Iona to throw the bag at her, or shout, or cry. 

But as Iona stared into the bag, into the two small strips of flesh that lay within it, she simply began to nod. Resolve washed over her features. 

No, not resolve. Triumph. 

She looked at Nesta carefully, as if assessing if she was still a threat. But Nesta sat still, waited. 

Iona took a deep breath. 

"Did he scream?" 

Nesta nodded. Iona almost smiled. 

"Did he beg you? To spare his life, did he beg you?" 

Nesta smiled wide. "Like a child." 

Please, please, for the love of Mother above, I will do anything! 

Give Iona her wings back. 

I- I can't- 

Then I guess you are out of luck.