“Bath day?”
She whirled on him with an exasperated sigh. “That’s when the shop gets bread deliveries. The entire village is there. Queuing.”
“I see… Do the locals know what you are?”
The irritated grimace she showed in response to each of his questions amused him somehow. “No. And it’s better that way.”
“An old man told me your mother is the village midwife.”
She straightened up. “There hasn’t been a birth here in years. If you’re so desperate to see her, wait! She’ll be back soon.”
The witch spun on her heel and strode towards the door, done with her social interaction quota for the day.
“Hey, I’m not here to disrupt your peace!” Zacharia called after her.
She turned and, for the first time, smiled at him – albeit mockingly. “You smell like trouble to me, but let’s see what Mum decides.” She shrugged and disappeared through the front door.
Over the past few days, this was the third witch’s house Zacharia had visited. The previous two encounters had proved fruitless, but he hoped this trip to Byala Voda would justify his efforts. He prayed that, at last, he had found a traditional witch – one who still practised the old, elaborate rituals rather than the simplified charms favoured by most modern witches – skilled enough to perform a seeking spell. In modern times, such mastery was rare, making it a challenge to find a genuine practitioner of the craft.
If today’s visit ended in failure, Zacharia planned to travel to Turkey and infiltrate one of the largest witch gatherings in Istanbul until he found someone capable of doing what he needed.
Ten minutes later, the witch appeared, walking along the path, shrouded in a black burqa and carrying a bag that smelt of fresh bread. Zacharia recognised her immediately. Witches who practised traditional magic for many years had a distinctive look in their gaze. It said,‘I’ve travelled the world several times over and carry the weight of its burdens on my shoulders’. He wascertain the face beneath the burqa bore even harsher marks.
She walked past Zacharia as if he didn’t exist. Upon entering the yard, she left the gate ajar behind her. He followed in silence.
Only when they reached the doorstep did she speak to him. “I need a bit of help around the house. If you’re useless with your hands, don’t bother coming inside.”
He stepped into the narrow corridor. “There’s nothing I’m better at.”
The aroma of bread from her bag mixed with the scents of lavender and cat urine. A moment later, the source of the latter appeared from around the corner – a massive black cat, hissing at Zacharia before rubbing itself against its mistress’ legs. She gestured towards the open door on the left and disappeared down the corridor.
He went to the room the witch had indicated, provoking another threatening hiss from the cat.
“Care to show me around, friend?” he said over his shoulder to the animal.
It slinked past Zacharia’s legs into the dimly lit room. It was a small space with a round table at its centre. A deck of cards and a human skull lay upon it. Thick black curtains hung over the windows.
His eyes fixed on a large stuffed raven perched on a rod against the wall. The cat had settled in the middle of a patterned rug, its glowing irises challenging him:Will you dare?
“Of course, my friend…” He treaded inside.
The witch’s voice called from behind him. “The roof needs repairs.”
He turned as she entered the room. Still cloaked in her burqa, she moved with an air of authority. The black cat leapt gracefully onto her lap when she sat at the round table. “Well, why are you standing there? Sit down, so I can see what fate has in store for you.”
Zacharia glanced at the bird on the wall. “Stuffed animals unsettle me… Besides, I’m not here for a reading.”
She smirked, shuffling a deck of cards in her hands. “Don’t you want to know your future?”
“Not in the slightest.” He took a seat opposite her. “I’m here because I need help to find someone. A friend. He’s been taken. The witches I’ve visited before said he’s not dead, but they couldn’t locate him anywhere on Earth. They mentioned something about a ‘veil’ blocking the seeking spell.”
The witch placed the deck on the table, her movements deliberate. “Ah, you hybrids. Cast out for a supposed prophecy, yet there are none more loyal than you.”
Zacharia frowned. “What prophecy?”
She sat back, studying him. “They say an army of hybrids will rise and conquer the Earth.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it. Though I’d be offended if such an army existed and I wasn’t invited to join.”