Wolves Among Us(57)

Mia stopped and turned to face her. Raindrops pelted her cheeks.

“Who told you of my pearls? What do you know of Bastion and me?”

“Women are talking about you, Mia. You are not imagining that. They wonder how much you know. They wonder why Bastion prefers you. What shall I tell them?”

“Tell them I was ashamed to be rescued by a witch who spews lies.”

“I have not rescued you. It is far too late for that.”

Hilda turned and went back inside. Mia tried to find a path and be free of this place, but the rain came faster. Not much light fell to the bottom of the forest on good days; now none made it down. Mia felt along the trees, with Alma clinging to her skirts, trying to push through the narrow openings between the slender firs, trying to make sense of the forest. She looked in every direction and saw no hope. Worse, Alma was getting soaked. Mia tried to pick her up, but her arms ached so badly she couldn’t. Alma shivered, cold and wet.

Mia beat her fists against a tree. “Where is the path?”

Hilda opened the door to her home. Mia could see the light and Hilda’s thin, bent body standing in the doorway. Hilda could keep Alma dry. Mia did not have to listen.

Mia led Alma through the trees, trying to keep a hand over the child’s head to shield her from more rain. Through the door they came, and Hilda shut the door behind them.

“Can you shelter us until it stops raining?”

“You are a good woman, Mia, but you cannot be trusted. This is what I will tell the women. It is what they suspected.”

“What would you have me do? Ask my husband? What would he tell me?”

“You believe he is innocent?”

“He might be bewitched.”

“Well, now, with that, I can help you. But only if you are willing to know the truth. Not everyone thinks you are. Only Dame Alice thinks you are an innocent. She tried so hard to help you. But you do not want help, or friendship, or even the truth.”

“They’re wrong.”

“Then I will give you a serum that breaks all spells and charms. Once a man has drunk it, he will be set free, never to be bewitched again. All the evil he has done will be finished. If you want the truth about Bjorn, if you truly believe he has been bewitched, then give him the serum.”

“I should not test him. It is not God’s will that we test our husbands.”

“Leave God out of this. With this potion, you can set Bjorn free of all lusts and ungodly desires. If he has been bewitched, as you say, it is the right thing to do. Prove to us you are a good wife.”

“What if he has not been bewitched? What will drinking the potion do?”

“Do? It can do nothing. It’s only a counterspell, powerless if there is no spell to break.”

Hilda fetched a small vial of opaque green glass, holding it between two fingers, dangling it at Mia. “What shall I tell the women? Do you want the truth?”

Mia listened to the rain hitting the thatched roof. A few drops burrowed their way inside and left dark streaks on the floor. A chill crept around her.

“If I take this potion from you, will I be guilty of witchcraft?”

“No. You are not making spells. You are only breaking a spell. And you have greater worries than accusations that cannot be proven.”

The cottage darkened as Hilda spoke, the storm coming closer. Alma shivered and Hilda retrieved a shawl, handing it to Mia.

“Have you something else to say to me?” Hilda asked. “You do not take this vial? What else are you hiding? What is the real reason you ran?”

“I just want to think.”

Hilda opened the door and peered out. Rain struck hard, rattling the green spring leaves above. “Women travel many miles to find me. When they arrive, they need time to find their voices. But you do not have time, Mia. You must tell me, whatever your burden is, right now.”

“I am confused. I want to pray, and I cannot ask a witch for counsel about God. And it is God that I most need right now.”

“Oh, I may know God better than you imagine. I find Him here, in the forest, quite often.”

“Blasphemer.”

Hilda cocked her head and waited.

Mia chewed on her lip, looking away from the vial. If Bjorn was bewitched, it was logical to believe that only another witch’s work could set him free. This vial could give him hope. It could deliver him. Hadn’t he provided for Alma? Hadn’t he kept them both alive and clothed, no matter how lean the years were? Bastion could not be trusted to do it, not if he desired Mia for himself. She had no way to break that spell. It was not witchcraft, she knew, but just a common evil.

“I ran away because I was afraid. I had wanted to die in the forest. But you found me.”

“What were you so afraid of, my child?”

“Myself.”

Hilda threw back her head, laughing.

Mia put her hands to her face. She would not cry in front of this woman.

Hilda shuffled forward, putting her hand on Mia’s arm.

“Mia, when I was a girl, I wanted to be a wife and a mother. My mother and my sisters died, three of them in all, and my father left me forever, alone in this little home. I was twelve. One day I found a woman wandering in the woods, delirious with fever. She had tried to abort her unborn child by drinking a potion she had bought from a wretched peddler. The pregnancy had ended but not expelled, and she was dying. I pulled her into this home, and I cared for her until she died. She is buried behind the home, and she is not alone. Many women since then have come to me. I have learned many recipes and charms, but not everyone lives, no matter what I do. Imagine it: an old woman with a garden of dead women. Think of how it must look to a stranger. But I know the truth about myself. I am not an evil woman.”