Page 21 of Magic and Medicine

‘Did your eyes stop working? I am a cat, and a very frustrated one at that. Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to hear me? How can I guide you if you never listen? I’d be better off as a familiar to those ignorant witches than a guide for a deaf seer. Never mind, you are listening now, and I am too comfortable to leave. If you haven’t already worked it out, my job is to guide and protect you through the dangers of the sight and trust me, it is not easy; you are barely home, you don’t have wards, and you have no idea who you are or what you’re doing. What a nightmare. Now pack your bags. You are going with the Leshy tomorrow.’

‘Leshy?’ I asked, because why not? Why not sit in the middle of the kitchen floor talking to a cat that scolds you worse than your grandma?

‘Leshy, Leszek, Forest Lord, Beast Master, it’s all the same, but he’s taken an interest in you, so use him. That being has power knowledge and can teach you about the sight.’

‘Right, and that’s your best advice? I’d rather eat a bowl of your food, but I will pack a bloody bag, just in case,’ I said, laughter escaping my control. ‘I can’t believe I’m taking orders from a cat.’

I ignored the feline’s mocking snort and poured a large glass of cucumber water before pulling a travel bag from storage. I started with the essentials like cat food, then moved to the bathroom, adding a few necessary cosmetics and a suture kit.

In the end, I picked two practical outfits and some light cotton pyjamas, somehow finding myself holding up a mossy-coloured satin camisole finished with golden trim as I stood before the open bag.

I looked at the delicate fabric shimmering lightly in my hands. I’d bought it impulsively, but it had been sitting at the bottom of my drawer, unused and forgotten for longer than I wanted to admit. A useless waste of money, but I wanted to put it in the bag. I just didn’t know why.

‘Good choice. The Leshy will enjoy seeing you wear his colours.’ I heard Scarface’s voice and nearly dropped the satin.

‘Will you shut up? Leszek won’t be seeing anything,’ I said, unsure if I was trying to convince the cat or myself, but I put the shimmering beauty in the bag anyway, pretending not to see Scarface giving me the side-eye as I did. Tired as a dog, I threw myself on the bed, unable to object as my feline overlord sat on my chest, curling up to sleep as usual.

‘You are fat,’ I said when he finally settled.

‘And you snore, but I never complain.’ The voice in my head made me smile. Apparently, all the men in my life were pompous arseholes. Still, I couldn’t raise the energy to care, and, exhaling slowly, I closed my eyes. There were many things to consider, but whatever the future threw at me, I would think about it tomorrow.

The adrenaline from the evening’s adventures slowly wore off and wrapped in a soft, thick blanket, I drifted off, determined to catch a few hours of sleep before the morning. However, I was wrong if I thought I’d sleep peacefully. Like many other nights, my dreams were filled with shadows trying to get into my thoughts. That was before Scarface rubbed his nose against my cheek, curling his tail around my neck, speaking reassuringly in my mind, the words softened by his purring.

‘Sleep, little witch. You’re safe with me.’

I wouldn’t curse the morning I wouldn’t, but the headache and familiar taste of cat hair were gleefully cavorting with the singing birds and bright sunlight that refused to stop shining in my eyes, making me wish I could ignore reality. A reality I soon realised included a car parked halfway across the city in a street near the Anchor. I would have to walk to work or, more likely, take a tram, as my body had lost its youthful ability to recover from a night out. If I had been drinking, that would be the perfect excuse for this feeling, but I didn’t even have that. So, with only a few minutes to make myself presentable, I stretched, only for Scarface to interrupt, begging for food.

‘Come on, monster, let’s feed you,’ I said, forgetting my late-night conversation with the feline wasn’t a dream, and headed to the kitchen, following the dramatic display of feline hunger. The tin I chose resisted my desire to open it, the ring breaking off and flying across the apartment, but with the help of a paramedic’s knife and fierce determination, the lid gave up the fight just as a loud banging on the door startled me into releasing my grip. The can fell to the floor, spilling its contents in a gloopy mess.

‘What in the living fuck?’ I cursed, breathing deeply to calm my racing heart. It was seven in the morning. My neighbours would curse my name if visits at such ungodly hours and late-night arguments became my new routine. No one with any common sense would visit me at this time, not before coffee, not before my brain remembered that I was supposed to heal, not kill, humankind.

I waited a moment longer, my heartbeat almost normal, before I opened the door with a mighty yank. The corridor was empty. I expected at least the echo of steps fading into the distance, but all was quiet, like no one had tried to break down my door moments ago.

Well, not entirely empty, I thought as my gaze drifted toward the floor and noticed a brown paper bag.

‘If it is another coffee and cinnamon roll, I will kill him.’ I shouted, hoping that whoever delivered the package was listening.

I suspected Leszek intended to court me to make the pretence of a relationship believable, and as sweet as the gesture was, it was more of a nuisance this early. I wiped the silly grin from my face and tried thinking of a way to untangle myself from the mess I’d found myself in because I wasn’t sure how long I could endure Leszek’s courting, especially if it continued to cause this much disruption before work.

I picked up the bag, carrying it to the kitchen. It was light, with only one item, and my curiosity was piqued when I noticed the velvet box inside.

I held the gift box up to the light, hesitating to open it as I didn’t recognise the name on the top. The black velvet covering felt sophisticated, a small decorative hook holding the lid in place. It slid easily from the loop, and I gasped when I saw what was inside.

The padded interior held a silver necklace with a pendant in the form of an ancient rune that shimmered softly under the pale light of the morning sun. It was beautiful, but far too expensive for me. Where would I wear it, anyway? To the hospital? I was so enamoured by the beauty of the gift that my fingers were reaching for it without realising until a sharp mental command froze me.

‘Don’t touch it!’

‘What? Why?’ I asked, staring at Scarface as he jumped on the table, hackles raised.

‘That is Czernobog’s rune, a dark gift, one hexed to cause harm. Pour salt over the cursed object to dispel its evil intent.’

‘Czernobog? Like Czernobog’s dagger. Like this…’ I snapped my fingers, trying to recall the correct information. ‘Like this eastern deity of death, darkness, and something else, you know… evil.’

‘Gods give me strength with this one. Yes, Sara, something evil. So will you finally purify it?’

‘Fine, but what’s it supposed to do?’ I asked, grabbing a jar of salt from the cupboard, bemused by the situation, but I followed the cat’s directions, dutifully burying the object under a small mountain of white.

‘Enthral you, force you to fulfil every wish, every command of its creator. It will give you nightmares that trigger insanity. This is very bad, Sara, and whoever gave it to you knows you are vulnerable.’

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