Page 97 of Night of the Witch
I take the bottle from him, and we traipse out onto a little courtyard, or what was once a courtyard, a small space dotted with fallen stones and snow, the whole of the Black Forest spread out beyond. The trees blend into the sky right now, one never-ending swath of darkness. We’d walked through forests to get here, butthisForest is a thing apart; the density and size of the trees is otherworldly, even in the growing black of night, theclear sky and waning moon. It emits a presence that can be felt viscerally, like eyes watching in the dark.
There is power here. Ancient power. It sends a shiver down my spine as Liesel points to a spot in the center of the stones. I swipe a mound of snow there to serve as a makeshift altar, but I have nothing to cleanse the space, no way to follow any of the proper methods Mama drilled into my heart and soul about presenting offerings. And I realize, the cold of the snow burning my fingers, just how often these past weeks I’ve failed to adhere to our traditions, our regimens, our rules. What will the goddesses think of me? I haven’t severed from the Origin Tree and its Well, but I’ve bastardized so many of our practices out of necessity and survival. Do the Maid, Mother, and Crone see? Do they understand?
I place our offerings in the snow, and when I kneel next to them, Liesel follows first, then Otto, eyeing us for direction.
Liesel takes both his hand and mine and bows her head.
“Abnoba, Holda, Perchta, accept these offerings,” she starts. Otto cuts a look at me over her head, the edges of his lips rising in a smile. “Folk of the forest—hey, be respectful! Close your eyes!”
Both Otto and I snap our eyes shut, and I bite my lips together. Liesel squeezes my hand.
“Folk of the forest,” she continues. There’s a pause; she’s fighting a yawn. “Grant us safe passage into your domain tomorrow. Please. We really need your protection. And goddesses—watch over Mama. She’s with you now. Let her know I’m okay.”
My heart seizes.
Liesel pulses her grip on my fingers. “Do you want to say anything?”
It’s all I can do to get my throat to hum a softno.
If I think too long about how this offering is such a sad reenactment of what we would have done in Birresborn. If I linger on the stillnesswhen the air should be full of singing and rejoicing and my mother’s clear voice leading us in prayers. If I speak, I’ll fall apart.
So I just squeeze her fingers back.
Liesel throws her arms around my neck, rocking me back where I’m kneeling. It breaks me as much as these memories do, and I hug her fiercely, absorbing the warmth of her little body, until she stifles another yawn.
“All right,” I say. “To bed now.”
She peels away. “Fine. Happy Yule, Fritzi.” She takes a step back into the castle, pauses, and looks down at Otto. “Happy Yule, Otto. I hope this didn’t make your god too angry.”
Otto’s lips purse, fighting a smile. “No, I don’t think it did.”
She trudges off, taking the flow of warmth back with her into the little room. I watch her shadow move against the small fire until she lies down within the warding circle, and it’s only then that I breathe, daring to let myself feel, for this moment, safe.
I turn to see Otto watching me.
We’re alone. For the first time since Trier, but there’s a tension in the air now, and it feels like truly thefirsttime, something wildly new and terrifyingly expansive.
I pull the angelica potion out of my pocket. “I need to ward you. If it won’t make your god too angry.”
He grins. Schiesse, he’s smiling more and more, and each time it strikes me utterly dumb.
“You two have had a poor introduction to my God, I know; but I promise, He won’t rage over things like this.”
“No, he just sends floods to drown the world.”
“Fair, but He said He wouldn’t do that again.” Otto pauses. “Well, He said He wouldn’t send another flood. He could make it rain fire or something, I suppose.”
“Liesel would like that.”
Otto huffs a laugh and motions at his face. “Ward me, hexe.”
I stand, and he follows me up, crossing around the offering to plant himself before me. When he bends his head down for me, I immediately regret asking to do this,needingto do this, putting myself so close to him after Liesel has left. She’s been a buffer, keeping me in careful check of my internal chaos, and now that it’s just me and him, the moonlight casting us in wintry silver, I can feel the edges of my control fraying.
He was distressingly attractive already, but after seeing him work to earn Liesel’s trust, after everything he’s done to keep us safe, it’s impossible not to be captivated by this man.
I put a little of the angelica potion on my finger and touch his forehead. His breath catches, and I have to hold my own to focus on what I’m doing.
“Thank you,” I tell him. To keep from thinking about how close we are.
