Nadia was standing in the back garden of 33,26, under the gently swaying arms of the Cradle. She’d heard elders lament the condition of the Cradle for as long as she could remember, but this was the only version she’d ever known, and to her it was still something to behold. Its arms were a brilliant ebony, crooked and majestic. The canopy stretched for several yards in each direction, and when the tree leaned in the wind, sunlight glinted off the remaining leaves, which had stunning veins of metallic purple. Some sections were still so full they blocked out the sunlight completely. Nadia hadn’t gotten used to it all yet—the enormity of 33,26, the (literal) charmed air that surrounded it, the permission to be on the grounds of the Regent’s home outside of public visiting hours. Taking in a breath of crisp autumn air, she tried to convince herself that today’s meeting would be a good one.
As she waited for Dr. Diop’s arrival, she received another banner from Iris:
Disturbances in the Baseline. Report landing in five.
Send sanction. —Iris
Nadia swiped it away as Dr. Diop appeared on the far edges of the lawn, resisting the urge to scream. She did not have time for whatever performance was taking place in the typic world right now. This was her third meeting with Violet in three weeks, and she’d come to dread them. The Regent didn’t seem to believe that WHO scientists were genuinely telling her everything they knew about the new births—which was essentially nothing. She’d bulldozed through all their meetings in a manner that ignored the basic realities of science.
Sure, Violet’s banner—the one announcing that the Crisis wasn’t over—had slightly dampened the mood in the Sphere. But each time there was a restorative birth, the word spread and the Sphere celebrated. It seemed that the witches of the Sphere had decided they were no longer interested in bad news. It wasn’t the pre-Shatter Sphere, but Nadia wondered why Violet couldn’t just consider this a success for now and let the WHO work in peace.
“Ready?” Dr. Diop, now at Nadia’s side, asked.
Nadia nodded, pulling herself out of her thoughts. They approached the massive trunk of the Cradle. Around one side was a large, curved table. Violet was known to prefer outdoor meetings when she could manage them, and Amos had notified them last minute that the meeting had been moved from the Hollow to the Cradle. Nadia and Dr. Diop were standing for only a moment before the Regent appeared in front of them—she must have been watching from her office window. The witches all touched hands briefly, offering each other a short, formal exchange of bodily magic to foster goodwill.
Nadia took a deep breath as she sat, unable to keep her eyes off the Regent’s face. Like many witches in the Sphere, Nadia found Violet’s performance as Regent uninspiring at best. So it was frustrating to her that she found the Regent so arresting. Today she’d worn her traditional Regent’s robes, purple and tightly pleated from top to bottom, alongside heaps of gleaming gemstone jewelry which, at the end of her tenure, would be returned to the coffers of 33,26 for her successor. Her hair—which had spawned thousands of copycat looks across the Sphere—was so black it appeared dyed, and she wore it in a low, waist-length ponytail, blow-dried and adorned all over with emeralds, opal, and scapolite, which caught the sun as she sat. Her full lips were always neatly painted a shade of deep claret.
Nadia fiddled with a loop of black thread on her robes—she wasn’t looking forward to encountering Violet’s rage, which intensified a shade with every inconclusive meeting. It was the only predictable thing about her.
Dr. Diop spoke first, her hands folded on the table. “Thank you for your audience, Violet.”
“Regent,” Violet corrected. She swung a finger to stir her tea.
A look of distaste flashed across Dr. Diop’s face. Nadia had witnessed Violet using that tone on others, but never on Dr. Diop, who was clearly one of the only Councilmembers Violet truly respected.
“Well, Regent, as you know, it has only been thirty-seven days since your initial information request. Just over five weeks since the birth of Nina Nox broke with the patterns we attributed to the Crisis; our very first evidence that the Crisis might be changing. As such, our studies remain inconclusive at this stage. We could provide you with early results from the tests we’ve conducted on a handful of witches and their babies, but it would simply be irresponsible. The initial report we provided you remains up to date.”
Violet opened her mouth to speak, but Dr. Diop continued.
“Now, after your initial request I did warn you that this was possible. The scientific process is long, and we will likely need at least a few more months before we can give you a well-generated, reliable hypothesis regarding the Crisis.”
Violet was quiet for a moment, tapping her nails on the tabletop. “I understand the constraints of the situation, Verbena, but do you know where I just came from?”
Dr. Diop narrowed her eyes. “No, Regent, where did you come from?”
“I came from my office. In 33,26.” Violet pointed up to her window. “Where I was approving the guest list for the Gathering. A Gathering that some say will be the first true Gathering since the Shatter. And when I think of just how many witches will be assembling here to celebrate a year that has meant the end of the Crisis for some, I also think about how shameful it is that, on that same day, many witches will still be confronting the reality of the Crisis in the form of their own typic babies. That witches throughout the Sphere will still be hesitant to procreate, still scared for their loved ones, still wondering whether their entire family lines could be cut short tomorrow. Now, I know your investigation alone cannot start or end the Crisis. That much is very, very clear. But you’ve stumbled on an incredible gift in the birth of Nina Nox, and it is your job to make sense of it. I hope you understand how critical it is that the public hear something substantial from what is considered the premier health organization in the Sphere.”
The word ‘gift’ was a jab, underscored by the sneer that shaped Violet’s lips as she said it. So too was the reminder of the WHO’s reputation, the implication that it might be unfounded, but Dr. Diop took it in stride. “I understand, Regent. We want this Crisis solved as much as you do—you know personally how hard I’ve worked on the AME, even if it hasn’t provided the results we wanted.”
Nadia, praying she wouldn’t be pulled into the impending conflict, looked out at the lawn, taking in the manicured grass and evergreen hedges. Her gaze stopped on something strange, something she hadn’t noticed in all the times she’d looked out at this property from the halls of 33,26, or even from this very seat. Just beyond the shade of the Cradle, there was a sprout in the middle of the otherwise-razed lawn, its brown stem poking over the top of the grass. It was small enough that she’d missed it the first few times she’d glanced behind Violet, but tall enough, conspicuous enough, that she couldn’t look away from it.
Nadia stood and walked toward it, completely forgetting where she was. The conversation stopped short, and the women watched as Nadia made her way across the lawn. Nadia bent over the little sprout, hoping to find something revealing on it, but the plant was utterly pedestrian: a feeble stem and three innocuous leaves. Something about the plant bothered her—it was familiar somehow. She felt that she had seen it before. “What do you think?” she asked Violet. Perhaps the Regent would know.
Violet gave Nadia a long look, unsure how to confront such bold misbehavior. “Well, I think it’s fairly obvious, Nadia. The landscaper missed a spot.”
Nadia opened her mouth to present another question about the burgeoning plant, but then she caught Dr. Diop’s expression and thought better of it.
“May we resume our meeting, your highness? Or would you like to touch every blade of grass on the lawn first?”
“Sorry,” said Nadia.
Violet waved her away, apparently exhausted by the sight of her, then turned to Dr. Diop. “I’m sure that by next week you’ll have a more substantial understanding of this new wave of magic births, correct?” There was nothing particularly threatening in Violet’s gaze, but then again, there needn’t be: she was the Regent.
Violet gathered her mug of tea and disappeared, leaving Nadia at the table with Dr. Diop.
“Is this a joke to you, Nadia?” Dr. Diop started.
Nadia jerked her head back, offended. She’d never heard Dr. Diop use this tone, and she hadn’t expected her to mirror Violet’s ridiculous outrage. “Of course not—”
“Do you know how hard I worked to get you into this position? Everything you do reflects on me, including whatever that just was. Don’t let your new position get to your head. Don’t let your name get to your head. You’re a junior here, understand? Learn your place, or this may be your last time on these grounds.”
Safiya
Lionel
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