The Spell of Rosette by Kim Falconer

way, at least for now. Would they also be working on the problem of drinking water and lack of sunlight? There might be a way to find out. She looked at her chronometer and noted the exact time. She would draw up the horary chart later, when she was certain she hadn’t been followed. The witch-trackers were an immediate threat, and they were on her trail.
    The study of quantum theory had been prohibited, along with the practice of astrology and other occult arts, especially by women. The gender biases prevalent up to the twenty-fourth century had returned in full force. Women were held responsible for the downfall of civilisation, again. Like Eve, Janis Richter was being cited as the new Pandora—the source of all evil on Earth, a plague to mankind. Her line must be stamped out, at any cost. Females found emulating her inmethodology, knowledge or action were put to death, cruelly. The search for her descendants continued. Kreshkali’s guts twisted at the thought.
    An updated version of Sprenger and Kramer’s fifteenth-century work, The Hammer of Witches, had been revived in the twenty-fourth century resulting in mass persecutions, burnings and hangings. Millions of women had been executed in the past fifty years alone—after heinous torture—for nothing more incriminating than reading a book on herbal medicine or feeding a stray cat.
    A peal of thunder boomed as rain lashed against the windows. Kreshkali yawned, knowing she needed to work. The only thing of any real value on Earth any more was purified water, and she sold her body to get it. Her credits were currently depleted, even with her recent trips to Gaela, but she had to sleep before getting back to the streets. She’d turn a few tricks before dawn sent everyone scuttling for shelter. But first she needed a nap.
    She struggled out of her boots and stripped, tossing her clothes onto the back of a chair. Running her hands through her short, spiky hair she let out a sigh, tensing as a fist pounded on her door. She looked again at the chronometer.
    ‘Yeah, what?’
    ‘Kali! Get out here. I got you a client.’
    ‘I can get my own fucking tricks, Jimmy.’
    ‘Not like this one. I’ll give you sixty percent.’
    ‘What’s he worth?’
    ‘Three pints—high quality.’
    She tilted her head to the side, working the knots in her left shoulder.
    ‘I’ll do him. Give me five.’ She yawned again.
    ‘Want to know what he asked for?’
    ‘Naw.’
    She flopped down into the narrow cot and closed her eyes. Five more minutes. Kreshkali read the text aloud, her voice resonating through the empty apartment.

‘If the Entity wavers at the door, Collect both waters pure as mist. Close your eyes against the teeming horde, Of the sea-devil’s avid twist. Add high blood and bottle tight With Luna behind the solar lot. Will the double helix bond right, And keep open the Ring-Pass-Not?’

    She bookmarked her place, grabbed her coat and headed to the jetty.
    She looked over her shoulder as she neared the seawall. Footsteps echoed behind her, but that was only of mild concern. She’d be out of this shit-hole in a matter of hours, and when she returned she’d have enough water to stay off the streets for a month, giving her time to study and unravel the mystery of the portal Entity.
    The rain had eased, as it often did around dawn. There was a sliver of rose light on the horizon, illuminating the skyscrapers—an illusion of sunrise that wouldn’t last. The darkness and the thunder, and the acidic rain returned, as always, along with the savagery of each new day. She cursed as she stepped in a puddle, the water soaking her boot. The seawall was two streets ahead—almost there.
    She’d left her last trick with his pants unzipped. A vial of pure-grade water—her fee—was resting safely in her coat pocket.
    This time it’ll work.
    The obscure words of the Draconic Tablets rolled over in her mind.
    Her first two attempts at deciphering their meaning and weaving a spell