Page 139 of Foul Days

“Anything.”

“How about you help me steal my shadow back from the Zmey?”

Roksana let out a sharp laugh. “Very funny.”

Kosara sighed internally. For a brief second, she’d let herself hope.

“The Zmey told me how you agreed to help us,” Roksana said. “He told me he hadn’t expected it from you, to be so reasonable. Personally, I’m relieved you saw reason. Once we bring the Wall down and you get your shadow back, everything will be just fine. You’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right.” A gust of wind ran across the rooftop, making Kosara shiver. “God, Roksana, you must be freezing sitting out here.” Kosara pulled the flask from her pocket and unscrewed the lid, letting steam escape into the air. “Here, I made you some tea.”

Roksana didn’t take it. “What is it?” Suspicion crept into her voice.

“Just some herbs. Mostly lavender. Look.” Kosara took a small sip.

Roksana relaxed and accepted the flask. She should have been more careful. In her place, Kosara would have examined the flask for markings. Roksana probably thought she was invincible—nothing could take down a woman who regularly smoked seer’s sage.

What she’d failed to consider, however, was that Kosara had been trained by the best herbalist in all of Chernograd.

Roksana took a drink from the side marked with a small black dot: the side rubbed with lemon balm, valerian root, and magnolia bark. She coughed and staggered. Her eyes glared at Kosara accusingly. Then, they shut.

In the last moment before Roksana’s head hit the roof, Kosara caught her under the armpits and let her slide down against the chimney.

Roksana gave out a loud snore. She looked so innocent, her eyelids flickering in a dream, a thin trickle of saliva running down her chin.

Kosara climbed back down the fire exit and knocked on the neighbours’ door.

“Good morning,” she said once her neighbour opened it. Kosara was certain she knew her name. It was something common, Maria or maybe Desislava? The woman furrowed her white eyebrows when she saw Kosara.

“Kosara?” she asked. “What’s the matter?”

“There’s a woman passed out on your roof. I can’t wake her up. You might want to phone the hospital.”

“Oh my God! What’s wrong with her?”

I poisoned her. “Who knows? You know these youngsters nowadays, they’d put anything in their systems.”

“Oh my God,” the woman repeated. “I’ll phone an ambulance at once.”

“No hurry,” Kosara said. “I reckon she’ll be asleep for a while.”

Kosara turned and walked back to her house, leaving the neighbour to watch after her, confused.

She could have made Roksana sleep for a hundred years—she knew how to brew that potion, too. She’d settled for a week instead. And even then, Roksana would probably wake up sooner, once they’d pumped out her stomach in the hospital. She’d have a mouth as dry as an ashtray and a headache to rival the worst hangover.

Served her right. As long as she slept until the end of the Foul Days, she wouldn’t be able to get in the way.

Kosara filled up the cezve, sat next to the fireplace, and extended her freezing toes towards the fire. The smell of coffee filled the room. Her eyes flickered towards the clock in the wall. She’d lost so much time already—she shouldn’t have let herself fall asleep.

Oh, who was she kidding? Even if she spent every waking moment reading, she wouldn’t be able to fully prepare for the spell on time. There was simply too much to do.

She drank her coffee in one large, long gulp. Then, she swirled the sediment around, turned the cup upside down in its saucer, and waited for the grounds to fall. As usual, it took her a moment to distinguish any shapes. Once she saw them, however, they seemed obvious: a snake, a broken heart, and a … dog? She squinted.

No, not a dog. A wolf.

Kosara sighed. The coffee only confirmed what she’d already known. There was no way she’d pull this off by herself. She needed someone she could trust. Someone she could ask to help her steal her shadow back, without him laughing in her face.

She needed a friend.

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