The First Confessor (Sword of Truth 0)

When the cat again voiced a small cry, Magda asked, “Are you hungry, little one?”

The cat meowed, almost as if she were answering, and rubbed the side of her face against the doorway, fearing to come close, but at the same time aching to approach.

Magda pulled the small bundle from her waist pouch and unwrapped the chicken strips. She knew that the temptation of a meal would overcome the cat’s caution. She asked Isidore if she was hungry. When Isidore nodded, Magda held the woman’s hand out and placed a piece of chicken in it. The cat sidled up to Magda and rubbed against her leg. Magda pulled off a small strip and held it out for the cat.

“Here you go, little one, have something to eat.”

As Magda ate the rest of the strip, the cat hunched forward and devoured the welcome tidbit.

“She seems to shadow you,” Isidore said. “You should name her Shadow.”

“I don’t need a cat,” Magda said as she gave the hungry cat another small piece of chicken.

“For those who understand their talents, a black cat is good to have around.”

“Talents?” Magda couldn’t imagine what good the cat could do her. “You mean being able to see into the spirit world?”

“I mean seeing things from that world that are here in this world.”

Magda realized that this was no longer idle chitchat. Isidore meant for her to be mindful of her words.

“You mean you think they can see ghosts?”

“Some think that cats, black cats in particular, can see the presence of spirits, or perhaps the essence of spirits. We don’t always know when such an essence has drifted into this realm and is near, but such a cat would be aware of it. For this reason, black cats have long been linked to death. Ignorant people wrongly fear them for this association. But just because they can see into the spirit realm, that does not mean that black cats are agents of death, or that they are evil.

“Sometimes, we need to heed subtle signs, for such signs may be more than they seem. Especially down here. I never let any sign down here go unnoticed, or unheeded.”

“But what use could having such a creature be?”

“While it is rare for spirits to drift through our world, it could possibly be useful to know when they are near.”

Magda didn’t know what good that could be to her, but she didn’t want to dismiss Isidore’s words out of hand. “So you think that this cat coming to me is a sign that I should keep her around to know when spirits are near?”

“She is shadowing you. Perhaps you should heed such a sign.” Isidore shrugged. “It could even be that a spirit guided the cat your way to be a comfort to you in your loneliness.”

“So you really think that she may be a sign from the spirit world?”

Isidore smiled. “I couldn’t say. She might have simply been hungry and smelled the food you had with you.” Isidore’s enigmatic smile ghosted away. “But I wouldn’t dismiss such a creature coming into the circle of your life energy.”

Magda had come to a spiritist seeking answers. It occurred to her that it might not be a bad idea to listen to her advice.

“Shadow it is then.” She stroked a hand along the sleek fur of the cat’s back. “Do you like that, name? Shadow?”

The cat meowed as if to answer. Before long, Shadow was in Magda’s lap, hoping for more chicken. Magda pulled off pieces, giving her a much-needed meal. When the cat had had her fill, she curled up and started cleaning herself.

“How long have you been a spiritist?” Magda asked as she stroked the warm little cat. Shadow purred in appreciation.

Isidore feigned shock. “Me? A spiritist? No, I am only—”

“You are the spiritist, Isidore.”

Isidore had wanted to be protected herself, but had not asked for protection for the spiritist. In her alarm at hearing about the threat, and then with the distraction of the cat showing up, she had forgotten to keep up the pretense. That told Magda what she had suspected all along, that there was no one else. Isidore was the spiritist.

Isidore stiffened a little, falling back into her role. “I am flattered that you would think I am such a woman, Magda, but I am merely her humble servant.”

“You play the role of aide to the spiritist so that you will not have to entertain appeals directly. That insulates you and gives you an easy way to turn people away, saving time and trouble. You work with the gifted, so you need to be able to keep others at arm’s length without having to turn down the appeals directly. More than that, you are empathetic and don’t like to disappoint people, but you have more important work and this small deception enables you to remain focused on that work without the streams of supplicants who would be eager to contact deceased loved ones if word got out that you were a spiritist and you would be willing to help them.”

Isidore sat quietly, hands nested in her lap, not offering any comment.

“I will not betray your secret, Isidore. But there is no one else. You are the spiritist. Your eyes are covered to help hide this world from your vision so that you may look into another world. That is what you do. You look into the spirit world.

“I have helped you to be safe from the dream walkers as you go about your important work. Please, Isidore, my work is important as well. Let’s not play games.”

As Isidore finally released a deep sigh, her posture sagged a bit. She was apparently relieved to no longer have to lie.

“You have it mostly right.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is more than a blindfold keeping me from seeing this world.”

Magda reached out and laid a hand over Isidore’s. “Show me.”

As the cat curled up for a warm nap in Magda’s lap, Isidore nodded, then reached up behind her head to the leather thongs holding on the blindfold. When at last it was untied, she slipped it away and sat a bit stiffer, nesting her hands again, letting Magd

a look at her face.

Isidore’s eyelids were closed over sunken sockets where her eyes should have been. They were not sewn shut. There were no eyelashes. It looked as if she had never had eyes, or as if they had been injured and healed over.

Magda knew better. She knew that Isidore had not been born this way, nor had she been injured.

“How did you lose your eyes?” Magda asked, fearing that she already knew the answer, fearing that this was wizard’s work.

“Is that the question you have come to ask the spiritist?”

“No. It is a question I would ask from one woman to another, because the reason for it greatly concerns me.”

Isidore thought a moment, her head turning blindly as if trying to see Magda.

“My eyes were taken from me so that I could see.”

“You were altered by wizards.”

“Yes.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Magda said in soft sincerity.

The woman’s brow bunched with the ache of tears that could not flow.

She cleared her throat. “No one has ever been sorry for my loss.”

“That makes it even worse, then, doesn’t it?”

The young woman nodded. “In a way. But the loss is far greater than you could suspect.”

“Tell me why you would allow this to be done to you.”

“I did not allow it, the way you may think. I sought to have it done, asked to have it done, so that I could see into the spirit world.”

Magda was incredulous. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“I had need enough.”

“Need enough? Why would you request wizards to alter you in such a way? Why would you have him take away your eyes?”

“It’s not a pretty story. Either to tell, or to hear.”

“I imagine not.” Magda steeled herself. “But I would hear it, if you are willing.”

Chapter 25

Isidore nodded, then started to reach up as if to wipe away tears. Her hand paused when she realized that she could no longer make tears any more than she could see. The hand sank to her lap.