Page 20 of The Cursed and the Broken
“I tell you I almost die and that’s what you focus on?”
Eszter waved her hands. “Yes, yes, we’ll get to the other stuff later. Now tell me, what was he like?”
“My gods, you’re like a hound on the scent. I’m not sure we should let you off your leash for the spring festival after all,” I teased.
She swatted me playfully and I laughed, momentarily forgetting the horrors I had seen. But there was something—or rather, someone—who my mind kept darting back to. Only … “I never got his name.”
“Is it because he was so devilishly handsome, he took your breath away?”
“Don’t be absurd,” I scoffed. “Hewasstupidly handsome, but he wasinfuriatingand I don’t trust him one bit. Anyway, we didn’t have time for introductions. A pack of wolves attacked us and everything spiralled into chaos so quickly. The wolves, Eszti, there was something wrong with them. The forest corrupted them somehow.”
Eszter bit her lip. “Do you think the Dark Queen’s cult lives in the Sötét Erdo? Maybe their magic is spreading through the woods, affecting the animals there.”
A shiver raked long claws down my spine. “If so, that’s way too close for comfort. We weren’t even in the darkest part of the woods when the wolves attacked us.”
She frowned. “How strange.”
I snorted. “It’s fucking bizarre is what it is.”
“What was the táltos doing there in the first place?” Eszter asked, wrapping her arms around her knees as she peered into the fire.
A good question. One I still wasn’t sure I had the whole truth of. “He and Hanna were lovers. Said they’d planned to meet in the morning, but when I first mentioned her, it was like I’d backed him into a corner. Instead of being honest, he just bailed on me, then showed up at the exact spot I found Hanna’s body. It’s all very …”
“Suspicious? Kit, for all you know, he might have been the murderer.”
I shook my head absentmindedly. “I thought the same at first, but not anymore. He was telling some truth and, even if he wasn’t, the magic used for that ritual was beyond that of any táltos. Mama said only witches could wield dark magic like that. Hanna’s body was drained when I found her, and animals had …” I swallowed, unable to form the words, but the look on Eszter’s face showed she understood.
“That’s disgusting.”
I blew out a long breath. “Yes, it was.”
We sat silently, each condemned to our thoughts. The earth had quaked beneath our feet, splitting open to reveal hidden truths and even uglier consequences. Our quiet village was under threat.
It was time to do something about it.
Jumping to my feet, I held out a hand for my sister, pulling her gracefully to her feet. Perhaps she saw the fierce resolve in my eyes, for she grinned mischievously. “Where are we headed then?”
I flashed her a devious smile. “The one place we can cause the most trouble. Where else?”
The temple winked at us from a distance, the tall spires reaching heavenward. Its gilded flowers latticed on the window arches glinted in the afternoon sun. Creeping ivy lined high stone walls and the grand mahogany doors were carved with the Turul—one bird of prey on each door, guarding the councillors and worshippers inside.
We made our way down the hill, past the outer homes and through the square surrounded by stores. The temple sat at the other end of our town, nestled amongst the trees that fanned around it.
It was one of the more beautiful buildings in the village, but it was the garden where the true charm lay. Tulips in glorious shades of every colour of the rainbow bloomed in neat rows lining the path winding up to the great doors, and a wisteria tree arched over a small pond at the rear. We used its flowers to weave onto maypoles for the spring festival, and soon the village would be vibrant with lavenders and white bellflowers.
I sighed, shoulders slumping under the weight of despair as we walked. The spring festival was my favourite time of the year. A time when witches forgot or forgave any animosity and disputes, and all came together to embrace our womanhood. To lift each other up and celebrate ourselves as goddesses.As witches.
We would feast for days on end, drink until our cups overflowed with magic, dance and dance until our legs gave out.
The time of year meant new beginnings, new adventure and, for many, new love. Girls dressed in pretty frocks and put ribbons in their hair, their cheeks flushed with youth and happiness. Men came to court budding beauties and women watched their daughters win the hands of eligible bachelors?matches made for power, if not marriage.
Gifts exchanged weren’t gold, but that of glory?of power to pass down the line and keep our magic strong. It mattered little that our village was but a grain of sand in a much bigger world. Power was power. Magic was might.
And, of course, there was the banya. Like a shadow, she descended on the homes of the chosen, where she would whisk away a new apprentice every other year, never showing her face or revealing her cards. At least, that was the rumour.
Baba Yana was a perfect stranger idolised and honoured by all. The witches tittered she was overdue to pick a new star apprentice, and I wondered if she would come this year. With Hanna’s death, I felt compelled to keep Eszter close by my side. What if she was picked?
“Someone’s coming,” Eszter hissed, dragging me from my thoughts and into a prickly bush beneath a window at the back of the temple.
