Page 3 of Foul Days

“Come on, Kosara,” said the stranger. “Just think what you could do with so much magic. You could cross the Wall and escape this cursed city. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

Kosara chewed on her lip. The stranger had read her completely wrong. She didn’t want to cross the Wall, which—she was aware—made her a minority in Chernograd. She couldn’t leave her city to be ravaged by its monsters while she lived happily ever after on the other side.

No, what she truly wanted was for the monsters to be dealt with, once and for all. And with such power, she could finally achieve that.

“Don’t do anything stupid, doll.” Malamir’s horrified eyes searched hers.

“No risk”—Roksana shot a cloud of smoke at her—“no gain.”

“Well?” said the stranger. “I’ve been told you can’t resist a good gamble.”

“Who told you that?” Kosara asked.

“One of your friends.”

Kosara raised her eyebrows at Roksana and Malamir. She would hardly call them “friends.” More like good acquaintances.

Roksana smirked, her face half-hidden behind a curtain of smoke. “Wasn’t me.”

“Me neither,” Malamir said quickly. “I’d never.”

“How many years have we known each other?” Roksana asked. “I’ve never said a bad word about you.”

“Me neither,” added Malamir. “Never.”

Kosara let out a puff of air through her nostrils. Dirty liars. They were lucky she liked them.

She looked down at her cards, blurring slightly in her trembling fingers. Her hand was nearly unbeatable. The only way the stranger could win was if he held a queen, a king, and an ace of spades.

Kosara had bet on much worse chances before, but she’d never bet anything so precious.

“Come on, Kosara,” the stranger said again.

He wouldn’t give up easily. A witch’s shadow couldn’t be stolen—it had to be given willingly. He’d already convinced eleven other witches to give him theirs.

Kosara downed her glass of plum rakia in one go. It burned her tongue and seared her throat, but it did nothing to calm her nerves.

“Kosara, doll.” Malamir rested a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t look at him. In the corner of her eye, she saw his hypnotising watch swinging in the dark hollows of his coat. “I really don’t think this is a smart—”

“Stop pestering her, for fuck’s sake,” Roksana snapped. “It’s her decision. Our Kosara knows what she’s doing.”

Do I? Kosara struggled to keep her hands steady. Her heart thumped in her ears, fast and loud. So loud, she almost didn’t hear the chiming of the clock.

It was midnight.

For a bizarre second, Kosara felt relieved—she didn’t need to decide tonight. Then her heart beat even louder. It was midnight.

“Well?” said the stranger. “What do you say?”

Kosara gave him a grim look. “We’ll have to continue the game some other time.”

“Why?”

“It’s midnight.”

“So?”

He had to be joking. There was no way he didn’t know.

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