Page 22 of Foul Days

Roksana was obviously still not telling the whole truth. Fine. She could keep her secrets.

“You’re an idiot,” Kosara said. “What would seeing it from up close even do?”

Roksana laughed. “It did nothing. Other than show me it’s just as dangerous as everyone says. You’re right, I am an idiot. Don’t worry, I’ve learned my bloody lesson. I’ll figure out a smarter way to cross back. I’ve got quite a bit of money saved, and—”

“You’re going back?” Kosara asked. For some reason, she was surprised, even though she herself planned on returning to Chernograd as soon as possible. Most people were happy to have escaped.

“Of course I’m going back. I’m a monster hunter, Kosara! What would I do on this side of the Wall?”

“You could retrain as a pest exterminator?”

“Very funny. No, I’m going back home as soon as I can. I don’t like it here. It’s all too … nice.”

“Too nice?”

“Yes. It’s all new and tidy and shiny. And the people are so friendly, it’s kind of sinister. Why are they always smiling? What are they hiding that’s so funny? You can come with me if you want. I can’t imagine they need a witch on this side of the Wall.”

Kosara scoffed. “You’d be surprised.”

She herself hadn’t expected just how much Belograd relied on Chernogradean magic. In the pharmacies, half of all medicines and cosmetics were imported from Chernograd. The jewellery shops were full of amulets and talismans. The perfumeries stank strongly of magic.

Kosara was aware, of course, that the city imported tonnes of magical objects from Chernograd every year. She had a few colleagues back home who were paid government wages to produce them. However, seeing all the magic on this side of the Wall had still come as a shock.

At the same time, it made sense. If Belograd didn’t need Chernograd’s magic, it would have probably left them to starve to death long ago.

Roksana pulled on her pipe and exhaled a cloud of smoke in Kosara’s face again. Kosara stifled a yawn. God, she was so tired of all of them. If only she could curl up on one of those cushions on the floor and forget about Sevar, and the stranger, and her shadow.

“Come on,” Roksana said. “Let’s get you another glass of wine. You look like you need it.” Roksana took her by the hand, and Kosara let her. As much as she hated to admit it, she was happy to see the monster hunter. She desperately needed someone familiar in this strange new city.

Roksana led her to a pile of cushions tucked away in the corner. Kosara sank in between them. Roksana poured two glasses of wine and handed one to her.

Kosara took a large gulp, then leaned her head against the wall.

“I’m so glad to see you’re all right,” Roksana said. “It all happened so fast. I kept thinking I should’ve done something to stop him—”

“The Zmey or the stranger?”

“Either bloody one.”

“There was nothing you could have done. It was my decision to give my shadow to the stranger.” My stupid, idiotic decision. “I’m trying to find him and get it back, but I don’t even know where to start looking.”

Roksana pressed her shoulder against Kosara’s. “Give it time. I’m sure someone must know something. He’s a smuggler who walks around with a necklace of witches’ shadows. People would notice.”

“I don’t have time. I need to get back to Chernograd.” Kosara sighed. “I wish the stranger had never come to our pub last night.”

“I know.”

Kosara rested her head on Roksana’s shoulder. The sweet smell of seer’s sage filled her nostrils. The band played a slow song, and the guests got up to dance. The women whirled, their skirts colourful circles floating through the room. The men’s legs moved so fast, kicking and crossing over, they were almost invisible.

Kosara did her best not to pay attention to Nur and Sevar, staring intently into each other’s eyes, their bodies pressed close together. For God’s sake, get a room!

She pitied the poor girl, tying herself to Sevar forever. He had the spine of a snake and the moral compass of a vulture. But beneath the pity, coiling deep in the pit of Kosara’s stomach, lurked a different feeling. One she was too embarrassed to ever admit out loud. Jealousy.

“You don’t have to look at her like that,” Roksana said.

Kosara startled, warm blood rushing to her cheeks. “Sorry, what?”

“You don’t have to look at her with such pity. That girl knows what she’s getting into.”

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