Page 4 of Foul Days

“What’s the matter? What’s going on?”

Kosara nodded towards the window. At first, it was quiet. The only noise was the distant hissing and popping of fireworks on the other side of the Wall. Chernograd slept under its blanket of snow.

Then the nightmare began.

The spotlights grew brighter, moving faster and faster, frantically searching the black sky. A siren sounded, so loud even the curtain of snow couldn’t dampen its wails.

The monsters descended on the walled city. High in the sky, their oily wings glistened in the moonlight, and their eyes shone like lanterns. As they landed, their curved talons screeched against the cobblestones.

Kosara quickly patted her trousers’ pockets, to make sure all her talismans were ready. There was one she itched to try, crafted from a rabbit’s paw and a cockerel’s comb—it would choke anyone or anything who tried to land a hand on her.

Let them come. Her eyes were fixed on the window. The streetlights flickered, revealing and hiding the dark shadows of the monsters. Let them come.

There was a scratch at the door and a low purr.

“Is that a stray cat?” the stranger asked, the words tumbling out fast. “Please tell me that’s just a—”

The purr grew into a growl. Something heavy slammed against the door. The hinges creaked, straining under the pressure. Talons slashed at the wood, sinking deep enough for their sharp tips to protrude on the other side.

Malamir crossed himself. Roksana cocked her gun.

“What the hell is that?” the stranger shouted.

Kosara’s fingers gripped the talisman in her pocket, the magic words ready on her lips. If the ward she’d drawn in front of the door didn’t work …

A loud shriek sounded, as if from an animal that had been badly burned.

Kosara smiled. The ward had done its job. That had been its first test tonight, undoubtedly the first of many. She tiptoed closer to the window, careful to stay hidden behind the curtain.

Several furry figures dashed across the street, leaving deep tracks in the fresh snow. One could mistake them for children in the dark—that was how small they were—if it wasn’t for their teeth the size of daggers. As they ran past the milliner’s, all the mirrors in the shop window shattered.

“Karakonjuls,” she said when she returned to her seat. “They’re gone now. They must have smelled easier prey elsewhere.”

“Kara-what?” the stranger asked. “What are those? Some kind of feral dogs?”

Roksana laughed loudly, her golden tooth glinting. “Where have you seen a horned, blood-sucking dog? The varkolaks are the dogs.”

“No, they’re not,” Kosara snapped. “The varkolaks transform into wolves. Christ, Roksana, you’re a monster hunter, you should know that.”

Another loud noise came from outside. The stranger jumped. “And what was that?”

Something thumped on the roof, making the light swing. Dust rained from the ceiling.

“A yuda, most likely,” Kosara said. “They sometimes nest on the roofs.” The stranger still looked petrified, so she added, “Nothing to worry about, unless you hear them calling your name.”

“Why?”

“It means you’ll die. Didn’t you receive your educational pamphlet?”

“My what?”

Simply unbelievable. The Witch and Warlock Association released one every year, containing detailed information on the different types of monsters and how to fight them. Kosara had spent hours licking all the envelopes shut before they got sent out to every household in Chernograd.

Yet, year after year, she discovered that no one bothered to read them.

Chernograd would never get rid of its monsters if it kept refusing to listen to its witches. Yes, it was much easier to buy an “anti-monster” necklace from a charlatan than to carve aspen stakes and distil holy water, but the difference was, the latter worked, while the former didn’t.

The stranger swallowed, his Adam’s apple bouncing. “Wait, you’re trying to tell me that there’s some kind of large prophetic bird—”

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