Page 28 of A Darkness So Sweet

Breathing out the tension that had knotted in her, she walked into the darkness after the troll.

The interior of the home was barely lit. There was a small fire in the far back, but even that wasn’t casting light the way it should. She could hear dirt crunching underneath her feet when she walked. There was no floor in this place. Only earth. The air was filled with smoke, but not from the fire. As she breathed in, she recognized the scent of burning pine, sap, and something similar to rosemary, but she wasn’t sure why that would be burning.

Turning her gaze toward the massive shadow to her right, she assumed it was Ragnar. He blended into the darkness of this place, but why wouldn’t he? The trolls were made for the dark. They all lived underground, just like this woman did.

Blood witch, the words echoed in her mind.

What did that entail? What would a blood witch see that no one else had already?

Nerves spun in her belly, twisting and curving throughout her guts until she wondered if she might throw up. The bravery she had clawed and scraped to get disappeared the moment something else shifted in the darkness.

Her nerves were a warning. Out of the shadows, an ancient troll uncoiled herself. Her back was bent in on herself, but worse were the scars. She was decorated in them. The moment her face turned toward the light, they looked like worms dug underneath her skin. Each scar was so raised, Maia thought perhaps they were the thickness of a fingertip. They cast shadows on the troll’s face, more markings and scars that were even more intimidating than before.

Sucking in a deep breath, she found herself frozen as the witch reached for a small glass orb beside her and lifted it to her mouth. Blowing into the glass bubble, she awakened a wisp that apparently was trapped inside. But that white glow illuminating everything made this place seem all the worse.

The blood witch was covered in tattered garments, little more than strips of fabric that were all woven around her form and sticking out in all directions. The dirty brown fabric clung to her rail thin form. All the other trolls Maia had seen were healthy. They were muscular and thick legged, some of them with rounded bellies from the comfortable life they led. This troll was anything but that.

Her bones were painfully visible through the thinness of her pale yellow skin. Sickly. Maia could see her ribs expanding as she breathed in and out. Her collarbones were so prominent that Maia feared only a single touch would shatter them. As the blood witch reached for Ragnar, she swallowed hard. She could see the two individual bones in the woman’s arm. Like there wasn’t even muscle there at all, just bones.

Ragnar leaned down to catch Maia’s attention. “The blood witch does not speak the common tongue. I will do my best to translate for you.”

“Oh,” was all she managed before they spoke in the black tongue.

It was hard to focus on anything but the state of the woman before them. Even though Ragnar drew her toward a table in the center of the room, all she could think was that someone needed to help this witch. Clearly, they were mistreating her. Clearly, someone needed to get some food into her, perhaps some water, and a blanket would go a long way as well.

“Maia,” Ragnar said, his voice hardened with emotion. “Stop staring at her.”

“Is she all right?”

Her gaze flicked to his, and she saw something shift in him. Like he’d thought she was judging this witch for her state, not worrying about her well-being. His expression softened. And there was the slightest feeling in her chest like she’d done something right for once.

“Ah,” he said, his voice pitched low. “She’s fine. Blood witches create their magic through pain. She has dedicated herself to a life of suffering so that she can see the magic inside people.”

“The what?”

He placed his hand on the table and nodded toward the blood witch. “She will look into my magic now. Watch, fire hair, and perhaps you will understand better than my words can explain.”

She wasn’t all that certain anything would make sense. But she kept her mouth shut and watched as the witch lunged for Ragnar’s hand. Her fingers and claws scraped down the thick base of his thumb, and then she traced the wrinkled lines across his palms all the way to his fingers.

Her voice rose and fell like the cresting of a wave. And though Maia didn’t understand a word, Ragnar was quick to speak the words for her to understand.

“A strong hand. The hand of a man who has worked all his life and will continue to do so. This is not the soft palm of a troll who has known an easy path. Instead, it is the hand of a man who will walk the hardest path by choice.” He winced. “It is the truth, unfortunately.”

“The last bit was your own commentary, I assume?” She tried very hard not to smile at him, because she understood this was a very serious matter.

Ragnar’s expression turned grave. “Don’t try to make me like you, human. It won’t work.”

And still, she had a feeling he was lying. That new, brave version of her whispered, “Are you sure?”

His lips quirked just the slightest. And then the tail of his brow moved as well. She had to wonder if he was having a hard time keeping his own smile from his face.

But then he hissed out a low breath and Maia’s head whipped back to the blood witch, who had scraped her claws down his hand. Beads of red welled from the wounds that were now deep furrows across his palm. As strange as it was, the first thought in her head was that she hadn’t known trolls would bleed red.

It was eerily human to see that red blood. To see it welling up in the lines of his hand and then dripping down onto the table. The blood witch leaned forward, smearing her hands in the thick liquid and spreading it across the worn wood. It was grotesque to watch, but she couldn’t stop staring, either.

The witch suddenly flattened her hands on the table, sucking in a deep, long breath. Then she looked up at Ragnar and spoke again.

He did not translate this time, but he didn’t have to. Small droplets of blood on the table rolled together and then they lifted into the air. She watched, her lips parting in shock as the blood then drew together, hovering in a ball the size of her fist before, all of a sudden, light bloomed inside of it. White light that was so blinding it was difficult to look at.

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