The cave itself was sparsely furnished—two chairs, a stool, a long, wooden table, and a small, polished mirror hanging from a wall from where another smaller table stood, littered with glass bottles of various sizes. There was an impressive arrangement of flowers: a burst of color in otherwise somber surroundings. A wooden divider foraged from driftwood marked off a separate area, presumably for changing and sleeping. It made for impressive accommodations, despite its suggestion of impermanence.

A small cot lay near the entrance—mine for the duration of my stay, I was told. The girl placed the two stones she carried at the end of the wooden table, adding them to a row of six other gems similar in shape though boasting different hues. A small, jeweled case lay at their center, polished so it gleamed.

“Most asha fall sick that first time,” she said. “Some may encounter no more than a small wave of dizziness or a fever lasting a few hours. But for bone witches, it can be fatal. It took me three days to recover.

“I had the most curious dream then. In it, I found a black cat, which I hid in my room. It was a beautiful kitten with the shiniest fur and the softest paws. People came and went asking for it, seeking with their blurred faces and watchful eyes. I was never sure why I lied, only that it was important that they not know I was keeping him, that something terrible would happen should they discover him.

“My kitten would change form at odd times. Sometimes it was a black dress and then a dark mask and then a beautiful obsidian gemstone. It didn’t worry me in this dream that I owned a cat that didn’t always stay one.

“Finally, it turned into a majestic-looking sword, as black as shadows—its hilt to its blade steeped in creeping, moving darkness. I knew then that I need not hide it any longer and raised up my sword.

“But the dream ended, and I woke.”

She took a sip from her wooden bowl and laughed softly. “Would events have been different, I wonder, if I had died then? Perhaps the dream was some kind of prophecy, a portent of what was to come. But I cannot predict the future like the oracle or even my sister Lilac. That is not the kind of magic I wield.”

Her fingers moved lower, tracing the long, raised scar on her thigh.

“The only sight I seem to possess nowadays is hindsight.”