people, and that wasn’t normal, since no one else in my crew could see them.
I gave him yet another faint nod. “For the umpteenth time, yes.”
“Any more sightings?” Taeral asked, genuinely interested. His was a more clinical approach, which I appreciated. He didn’t worry about my wellbeing, even though I did. He simply believed I could see people around us, like it was acceptable. Well, at least, that was how he sounded to me, and it was a welcome respite. He probably worried, too, just not as obviously as Raphael.
“Yeah, all the way here,” I said, then pointed at different individuals I was currently seeing around us. “Over there, your one o’clock. And there. Also there, farther to the west, approximately fifty yards from where we’re standing.”
“Do any of them say anything?” Raphael replied.
Finally, a question I could answer without lying to him or myself, because I was anything but okay. “Nothing whatsoever. They just watch. It hasn’t gotten any less weird.”
“There must be a reasonable explanation,” Eira said. “Illusions? Or spirits?”
“From GASP’s previous brushes with death, I can tell you for a fact that we can’t see spirits,” I replied. “The fae could, given Sherus’s past exploits, which would then mean that Taeral should be able to see them, not I.”
“I’m half fae, though. Maybe that’s playing a part?” Taeral wondered.
“Then illusions?” Eira replied.
“If I’m the only one seeing them, it’s a possibility, and it doesn’t speak well of my sanity.” I chuckled, though cringing on the inside. I’d been going through the same process since I’d first begun to see them.
“Could be visions,” Lumi said. She didn’t seem worried about me, either. Or maybe she was just good at hiding her concern, like Taeral or Eira. Raphael, on the other hand, barely took his eyes off me. Granted, I didn’t exactly mind the attention, but I preferred it when it came in the form of flirtatious teasing or those long, intense looks he’d given me back on Cerix. Those made my stomach fill with raucous butterflies.
Raphael nodded. “Maybe you’ve got a connection to something here,” he added, seemingly on board with Lumi’s theory.
Good, it means you don’t think I’m crazy, after all, I thought to myself, and the relief that followed was almost comical. “That’s possible. It would then beg the follow-up question: What the hell am I connected to?”
No one had an answer, not even our beloved, Word-connected swamp witch.
“Until we figure it out, we might as well rest for a bit,” Eira said, smiling. “We can keep moving after this.”
“I’m also getting hungry.” Taeral sighed.
Raphael’s stomach was quite vocal in its agreement. It prompted a turbulent blush in his otherwise diaphanous cheeks as he looked at me. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Don’t worry, we all get that way, sooner or later,” I said. “I should have some blood, too. If there’s anything around here that might want to kill us, including the Hermessi, we might as well be physically prepared.”
“Besides, Raphael and Taeral recovered from some pretty serious injuries,” Eira replied. “Sure, the pink water healed them, but, still, they took their toll.”
“Nutrition is important,” Lumi said, her tone formal and stiff, then laughed. “That’s what my swamp witch mentor used to say every morning.”
We settled by the water’s edge. Hydration came first, but it didn’t stop me from asking a key question. “Lumi, you never told us. Who was your mentor? Was she from Calliope?”
The swamp witch nodded, watching while we all filled our palms with sweet water and drank until we were sated. Birds chirped around us, playfully hopping branches and chasing black butterflies—I’d never seen insects like these before. Their antennae were long and covered in soft hairs that looked like short feathers. Butterflies with feathery pigtails.
“Her name was Votya. She’d been born a succubus, and she was one of the oldest servants of the Word at the time. Ten thousand years ago, our pixie population had begun its rapid decline. Most of the swamp witches from our species had faded. Therefore, when I decided to become a swamp witch, I chose to look for Votya,” Lumi said, a sad glimmer in her eyes. Her memories seemed vivid, given her expression. Intense, even. “I searched for her across the continents of Calliope. Month after month, until I caught her trail. You see, Votya didn’t want to teach anyone. There were other swamp witches who took on apprentices, but I’d chosen her because of her reputation. She was, by far, the wisest and most