Page 38 of I Will Always Find You
The Romani witch felt no need to voice his thoughts further; the intensity of his fear spoke volumes without another word.He cannot go in there without me. He will surely die.
“Thank you, Stetsia. Now, I want you to go to the celebration. Eat, drink, and be cheerful. And hope. Stay with the crowd while I go with Damek into the forest. Will you do this for me?”
“Yes,” Stetsia promised, and she smiled for the first time in two days. She truly felt hopeful. However, that feeling of contentment, that sliver of joy, quickly slipped away, leaving her looking even more mournful than when the Romani witch first laid eyes upon her.
“Stetsia, please do not be sad, I promise to—”
“I saw her,” Stetsia declared, cutting the Romani witch off. Her face was solemn; her eyes conveyed pure terror. “The witch, I saw her—and she took him!”
“Tell me what you saw,” the Romani witch instructed, placing his hand gently yet firmly on Stetsia’s shoulder. His tone was forthright but temperate.
“We were playing in the forest, even though Papa told us not to. When I heard something rustling in the leaves, I ran home. I was sure it was a wolf. I called for Dawyd to come with me. I swear, cross my heart, that he was right behind me. I—I thought he was.
“When I was safe, outside the woods, I turned around, and that was when I saw her. She was looking right at me! Her eyes were black, and her mouth was cruelly shaped. She—she lookedso mean. Dawyd was wrapped in her long, hairy arms, trapped! And his mouth! It was no longer there! I do not lie. It was gone! And—and he looked so scared.
“But I had my mouth, and I wanted to scream. I should have! Only the witch put a long, spindly finger to her lips—and—and I could hear her in my head!Shhhhhhhhhh!That was what she did! I understood, yes, I did! She was telling me not to speak of what I saw. And then she was no longer there, and Dawyd was gone with her. And I never did tell. I was scared she would come back for me. I was so scared! I ran. The witch eats children! Dawyd’s death is my fault!”
Stetsia burst into tears.
With tender affection, the Romani witch embraced the troubled child, his fingers weaving through the golden strands of the girl’s hair like a calming breeze. As he did this, he concentrated his energy, enveloping Stetsia in his aura and connecting it to hers. He then whispered, “Ataraxia,” into her ear to relieve her of distress and worry. This ancient Greek spell brought tranquility, which was what the word of power meant.
It quickly took effect; the girl stopped crying and was soon calm.
Then, with one last reminder to obey the Romani witch’s previous instructions, Stetsia turned and ran toward the inn.
Now, I can go after Damek and awaken my Aeneas.
Running in the direction that Damek had gone after leaving the village square, the Romani witch soon spotted him stepping out of a quaint little cottage.That must be the Honcharenko home.
He noted that the young Hutsul had exchanged his dancing clothes for a hunter’s outfit made from strong hemp, bound tight at the waist by a black leather belt. His gloves and boots were also made of leather and dyed black; the aggressive colour theRomani witch had learned from Slobodan was derived from oak galls, which were local to the area.
What captured the Romani witch’s attention most, however, and sparked a flicker of concern, was the imposing war-axe that Damek had firmly strapped to his back, its blade glinting ominously in the sunlight.
He truly is prepared to risk his life, fight anything, kill anything, to get his brother back. Oh, how good it feels to look upon him. Damek is such a beauty; it takes my breath away. How he looks so close to how Aeneas looked back in Pompeii before the witch-killers took him and befouled him. Those vicious bastards!
No, do not think such angry thoughts. To ruin this moment with hatred—a time when the blessing of Hecate’s magic is so very evident. My Damek, my Aeneas, so strong, so handsome, so perfect, so—what is this? That look of pure rage he now shows! By Hecate, to see such a gentle soul filled with hate!
The Romani witch found Damek’s countenance quite unnerving. He never liked seeing anger or distress contort the beauty and gentleness that was his beloved to his core. Hate had never been a part of Aeneas, and none of his hosts ever reflected that emotion, not until this day; pure hatred and fury rested upon Damek’s face.
Quickly now, before he rushes off to the forest to get himself killed!
The Romani witch steadied himself and, gathering all his will, spoke the mystical words to exert whatever power he could over Aeneas’ fixed destiny. As always, he hoped to sway the heart and mind of his beloved, reminding him not only of a part of himself but also of his eternal lover, the witch who does not wish to exist without him, both in life and in death.
Pointing at Damek, the Romani witch whispered, “Scire me! Nosce te ipsum!” And then he said these words twice more.
Although the spell did not always work, today, the power of Hecate and the luck of Fortuna smiled down upon him.
Damek halted his movement toward the forest, slowly turning as if he had heard someone calling out to him like a voice from the past. Did it belong to someone he had not seen in a long time, he wondered? He was unsure, yet he felt he should know this person. He was overwhelmed by a dizzying sensation of remembrance, as if he were recalling something—or someone—of great importance that he had forgotten.
“Do I know you?” Damek asked the Romani witch after fully turning around and seeing the dark-haired man smiling at him. “I do, I am sure of it, though I cannot remember when or where.”
“No, Damek, you and I have not met before,” the Romani witch calmly stated, “though I feel like I have known you all my life. Do you not also feel that?”
Damek stared in confusion, yet a wave of exhilaration coursed through him. The stranger he felt oddly connected to was looking at him with such intense focus. Damek was not so unworldly as to not recognize a look of lust in someone’s gaze, lust directed clearly at him.
“Why are you here, at my doorstep, stranger? And why are you staring at me like that? I do not have time for foolishness.”
Not that Damek minded being looked at so passionately, for his pulse quickened as a wave of desire washed over him. His breath hitched, caught unceremoniously in his throat, as his eyes lingered on the intriguing dark-haired stranger. Every glance ignited a spark of intense attraction that coursed through him like he had been struck by a bolt of lightning.
