Wolves Among Us(67)

“The women of this village say I blinded myself to my husband’s evil. Bjorn is accused of terrible things. If this be true, I cannot say. I only know what he has told me. I was wrong to not look deeper, to be so afraid of darkness that I had to pretend it was not there. The darkness in us, the darkness around us, is real. But we are not alone in it. I wish I had believed that much earlier. I wish I had never doubted that the power of love is far greater. I read it once, long ago, but I did not believe it for many years. Only now, when I may lose everything, have I come to embrace that as truth.”

“An eloquent defense,” Bastion said, his fingers digging into the arms of his chair. “The court will set your case aside until we can consider it in depth.”

“We should hear from her husband,” Stefan said, gesturing for Bjorn to speak.

“Move on from this case,” Bastion said. “Bjorn is not on trial.”

Mia watched as a look passed between Stefan and Bjorn.

“Stefan is right,” Bjorn said. “My wife is accused. I should speak.”

A round of applause broke out as Bjorn stepped down from his chair, walking down two steps to speak with the people. Stefan frowned, lifting his hands for the people to quiet. Mia watched Bjorn searching the faces in the crowd as if for an answer. He looked white, all the blood drained from his face.

“We are proud of you, Bjorn,” someone called. “You are the reason we sleep in peace now.”

“I did not want an Inquisitor brought to our village,” Bjorn said. “But much has changed.”

At his words, the crowd fell silent. Stefan lowered his hands. Mia kept her eyes from meeting Bastion’s.

“Mia,” Bjorn addressed her. He pulled the green vial from his belt bag.

Mia had forgotten that vial. So much had happened, so fast. “No! Bjorn, do not drink it! It can’t save you. If you are bewitched, it is by nothing more than evil, the same evil that whispers to us all. And its curse has already been broken.”

Bjorn looked like he had been slapped. He must have been stunned by Mia’s boldness. He looked at the women standing with Mia, the faces of his victims and the women who knew his secrets. Mia had thought he would be relieved to know he was no different than any other man, but he looked stricken.

“I have struggled to know who and what to believe,” he said to the crowd. “I did not want an Inquisitor because I thought my own secrets would be discovered. But Bastion arrived and told me my sins were not my fault. Now my wife, even my priest, says Bastion is wrong. Who can a man believe?”

The crowd murmured and nudged each other.

His expression changed suddenly, as if someone had just whispered in his ear, and Mia recognized the set jaw and cold gaze that came into his eyes. He had made a decision. He pulled the vial and tipped his head back, drinking the contents. He grimaced as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then continued.

“My wife was discovered at the home of a known witch. I believe that because I discovered her there myself, where she gave me this vial. It is a witch’s counterspell. She said it would set me free from all the evils I have suffered. She urged me to drink it. Now, standing as a condemned woman before you, she begs me not to drink it. Why? Because she hates me. She knows now what I did. She wants me to suffer, just as she surely will. But I have chosen what and whom to believe.” At this, he turned and nodded to Bastion. “I will live a good long life, and many will hear of me. Everyone will know my story.”

Mia hung her head, shaking it with her eyes closed. She had been a fool to trust in Hilda, even for a moment. Charms and potions had no saving power against this madness. The old wound ached in her heart. Bjorn would not be saved, and he would know that she had failed him. Again.

People began gasping, murmuring all at once. Mia opened her eyes. Bjorn had fallen to his knees, clutching his stomach. He began retching, eyes opened wide, his face in a tight grimace.

“Mia?” he screamed, trying to crawl to her. “What did you give me?”

Mia scrambled back, afraid to touch him, but someone in the crowd caught her, forcing her to face Bjorn, who fell onto his back, writhing, his face turning green.

He looked up at her. “You said I would be free.”

He arched his back one more time then collapsed, lying still. Mia could not see his chest rise or fall.

Hilda’s words pierced her heart: It is the only way to set him free from his evil.

Bastion jumped to his feet, his mouth opening and closing in his shock. Stefan ran to Mia, pushing her back from the crowd. “Get away from here, now.”

“Witch!” someone screamed.

“No. You did not understand what Bjorn was saying.” Stefan cried, trying to push Mia and face the crowd, too. “He wanted to confess.”

“Witch! Burn her!”

“Mia!” Stefan screamed to her. “Run!”

But the villagers caught her, pinching and hitting. She tried to hold her breath after they began spitting in her face. She was shoved at Bastion’s feet, the crowd in chaos. Bastion grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up, turning her to face the crowd, his breath on her neck like a burst of steam.

“Look at them, Mia. Look in their faces. They want you dead. There is no future for you here.”

Mia could not see Alma in the crowd.

“Friends and good Christians, patience.” Bastion called. “You do not know the law. We cannot burn Mia. Not yet.”