Free Witches of the Deep (The Memento Mori Witch Trilogy Book 3) by C.N. Crawford

Like, sixty years out of date.
    “Hello. I came to visit Mariana.”
    A burning cigarette dangled from the woman’s mouth, and she stood before a dark stairwell in a bare-walled hallway. “Did you bring any?”
    Crap. Of course she should have. “The Picaroons came. I didn’t think to bring food.”
    She narrowed her eyes and grunted, “Sea demons.”
    “They took our friend.”
    A long drag. “Your friend. Not one of ours.”
    Celia could feel herself losing patience. “Right. Can I see Mariana now?”
    The woman thrust a hot mug of what smelled like herbal tea into Celia’s hands. “Bring this to her. It will help her bad dreams.”
    Celia gripped the cup and walked up the narrow stairwell. Upstairs, the floorboards creaked as she trod the length of the hall. At the end, she pushed open a door to a cramped room warmly lit by a lantern. Mariana stood in the shadows, her dark hair hanging lank over a white nightgown. She was staring at a wall.
    Celia tightened her hands around the mug. “Mariana?”
    Mariana whirled, her eyes wide. “Get away.”
    Her pulse raced at her friend’s reaction. “It’s me—Celia.”
    Mariana grimaced. “I know that.” Deep circles darkened the skin below her eyes.
    “Are you okay?” Celia set the hot mug on a walnut table.
    “Just don’t sneak up on me.”
    Her head was too woozy for subtlety. “You seem kind of messed up. Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you in the Purgator prison?”
    “It’s not a secret. It’s just—” A look of confusion crossed Mariana’s features. “There was a small box.” Hunching her shoulders, she chewed a fingernail. “I don’t think this is a good idea. We just need to forget about it. It’s over. When is Fiona coming to see me again?”
    Maybe this wasn’t the time to tell her about Fiona. But Mariana would never forgive her for keeping this secret. Celia inhaled sharply. Just get it out. “She might not be coming back.”
    A dark look crossed Mariana’s face. “What are you talking about?”
    “The Purgators took her as tribute. For their ship.” She left out the part about Fiona volunteering.
    “They took her?” Mariana gripped her chest. “Where are they taking her?”
    Celia rubbed her forehead, trying to clear her thoughts. “To a ship. Thomas said there’s a chance she could live, if she passes a trial.”
    Mariana’s breath grew ragged, and she rushed past Celia, thundering down the stairs. Following, Celia hurried down the steps, rushing out the front door after her friend.
    Outside, Mariana was rambling. “They took her, and she’s not safe. They’ll hold her head underwater. Those spiders are not safe. I know the venomous ones—”
    Oswald stepped closer, steadily holding out his hands like he was calming a wild animal. “You’re here with us, Mariana. Breathe.”
    “They can’t be trusted.” Her whole body trembled. “They’ll shove her head under the water so she can’t breathe, and the water will fill her lungs. There are seven different kinds of hell, and they all destroy your mind.”
    Celia’s stomach turned. She’d never seen her friend like this.
    Keeping his gaze steady, Oswald inched closer. “You’re here, Mariana. Your feet are on the grass. Look down. Grass and rocks. You’re outside. You have all the air you need, and your feet are here on the earth, and they will take you wherever you want to go.”
    Mariana’s breath came hard and fast. “What?”
    “Your lungs have air, and the ground is solid beneath your feet. You are in control. Breathe.”
    Mariana stared, confused for a moment, before taking a long breath. She glanced down at her feet, and her shoulders slumped.
    Tentatively, Celia approached. She shouldn’t have told Mariana. Not until she’d recovered. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay with you tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
    Mariana’s eyes brimmed with tears, and she gasped for air. “Thanks.” She wiped a hand across her cheek and turned to walk