Page 89 of Devil's Deal

I nod, laying a fire in the hearth to make the brew. I keep thinking as I arrange the thin sticks and dry wood shavings so the fire catches fast. Something about our conversation nudges the back of my mind, and I try to bring that piece to light as I hit the blade of a steel knife against my flint stone.

When sparks fall on the wood shavings and catch, I finally have it.

“So you believe the seal broke the moment my eyes changed color?” I ask her before I blow on the fire to coax it to grow bigger.

“Yes. What about it?”

“Well, I didn’t notice it back then because I had so much on my mind, but my first period started shortly after that. I don’t know how much later, precisely, but under a month. It might have been two weeks.”

“You’re saying the seal broke the first time you were fertile,” Wiosna says. “When you became a woman.”

I sit back on my heels, trying to remember more details about that time. “Is that likely? You just said a witch’s magic is the most potent during her menses, but what about the few days when she’s fertile?”

“Hm, yes. We don’t pay much attention to that, because few women can tell with any precision when it happens. But it’s when you’re at your most creative. It’s a powerful time.”

A powerful time. Yes, probably. And yet, if that were so, wouldn’t the seal have broken every month after it did the first time? Except, that was the only time my body worked properly. I can’t help but think that since I’m not entirely whole, maybe my magic can’t function as it should.

Maybe it will stay sealed, forever. And I won’t be able to save my twelve-year-old self, after all. Unless I succumb and take the devil’s deal.

I don’t share these dark thoughts with Wiosna, and I do my best to chase them from my own head, too.

I feed the fire more sticks, and when the bigger pieces of wood catch on, I go out to get water for my cauldron. I drink the brew when it’s done and then pick currants for a currant tincture that’s good for colds. Thanks to my recent popularity, I have a nice supply of vodka, and I put it to good use.

All through the day, I keep wondering how my little worms are faring. Hopefully, they are very, very hungry.

The very next morning, Ida knocks on my door when I’m in the middle of brushing my hair. I let her in, and she eyes me with a half-open mouth, not replying when I greet her.

“Ida? Good morning,” I repeat, and she shakes herself off.

“You should get a husband,” she says, making me laugh at the randomness of it.

“A husband? Whatever for?”

She reaches out a tentative hand and takes a strand of my red hair in her fingers, stroking gently. “So he can admire this every day. Someone should,” she says, her eyes flashing in a mischievous smile. “You always wear your hair so tightly braided and pinned up. But it’s so gorgeous when you let it down.”

I wave her compliment away with a muttered thanks. My hair is one of the reasons why people feel wary about me, why they think I’m a witch. I’m not going to flaunt it.

“Enough about my hair. What brings you here?”

She claps her hands and laughs, her eyes bright.

“Czeslawa’s shed collapsed during the night. Lotta’s boy just came by our house to tell us. He said she’s livid and keeps screaming a witch cursed her, but the boy says he had a look at the shed, and the planks were completely eaten through. Janek’s mother says Czeslawa should do a better job protecting her buildings next time instead of blaming it on witches.”

I laugh, gleeful and malicious, and Wiosna joins me. Ida nods, satisfied and proud of herself for bringing me the news.

“Oh, and I told my friends about those beauty potions you’re making. Better make sure you have lots,” she says with a conspiratorial glimmer in her eye. “I have to be off now. Haven’t had my breakfast yet!”

“That one sure likes you,” Wiosna mutters after Ida leaves.

I don’t answer, just grit my teeth. I should put some distance between Ida and me, and I decide I’ll do it as soon as I give her the potion I promised in return for her help. My chest hurts at the thought, but it must be done if I am to protect her. And I want to, desperately. I don’t know how it feels to have a younger sibling, but maybe it’s similar to that protectiveness.

“Well, we might as well make hay while the sun shines,” Wiosna says briskly. “Are you up for doing a nasty little spell tonight? Let’s burn through that devil magic.”

That night, I wait for Wiosna to report back when everyone is asleep. I need to get in and out of Czeslawa’s garden unseen, and since it’s likely I might feel faint after I do the spell, we must make sure no one will see me as I stagger home. The whisperer is bound to feel paranoic, and if she gets a whiff of my nightly excursion, she’ll surely suspect me.

She already does, too. Ida came by in the afternoon to tell me Czeslawa informs everyone who will listen that I cursed her. Luckily, no one takes her seriously. Most gossipers believe she’s embarrassed about her incompetence in keeping her own home vermin-free.

And yet, that’s not enough to appease me after she tried to get me killed. I want her gone.

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