Chapter 2
Chapter Two
SERAFINA
“What now? A dragon, you say?”
Fire ignited my butt cheek, my abused flesh stinging. Yaga’s bedside manner was far from gentle. “Ouch. Easy. That’s tender.”
Bent over the aged hag’s worktable, I rested on my forearms. Skirt hiked up, ass in the air, I cringed as my mentor dabbed antiseptic on my bite wound.
“Oh, stop your whining. It’s just a bit of a scrape. No lasting damage done but to your pride.”
“Bastard came out of nowhere. Swooped in and started chasing the flock. I had to do something.”
Sebastian, one of several resident cats, tiptoed across my forearms, dragging his inky tail beneath my nose.
At least someone cared. Of all the felines in the manor, he was my favorite.
I scratched his lower back in thanks, smiling when he danced a double-step at the attention, sticking his rump in the air.
“And you’re sure it was a dragon. Got a good look at it, did yah? In the dark, no less? While yah were running about, carrying on like a woman possessed instead of gathering the herbs I sent yah to collect.”
“Well. Not a good look.”
“Of course, yah didn’t. Cause you’re too damn impulsive. How many times have I warned you about that temper of yours?” Yaga’s aged hand smacked my bottom, and I whirled around with a shriek.
I gritted my teeth, settling my damaged skirt over my hips. “I’m merely telling you what I saw.”
She waggled her gnarled finger at my nose. “Sure, and I wouldn’t be telling anyone else your tall tale either. They’re likely to lock you away.”
Lock me away. Burn me alive. The Puritans didn’t need proof—they only needed a reason.
“So you don’t believe me.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Then you do believe in dragons.”
“Didn’t say that either.”
“Yaga,” I growled. As usual, dragging a straight answer out of the aged seer was harder than getting a day off from my endless duties.
She examined the contents of the basket I’d brought her, face set into deliberate lines of innocence. I didn’t buy it.
Twin braids decorated with beads and feathers hung over her hunched shoulders.
Over her coarse dress was an apron, the pockets brimming with things I knew better than to examine.
At our backs, a fire burned in the hearth.
Yaga’s latest potion on a hook over the flames.
Or it could be her dinner. Or maybe her laundry.
One never knew what the elderly hag had brewing.
Shelves teeming with jars, covered pots, and braided lengths of dried herbs filled the walls of the dank space.
The hag’s workshop was located deep in the earth, in the foundation of the high ruler’s manor.
As if the Puritans desired her healing skills and yet preferred to keep their distance from the odd woman.
“Tell me you at least managed to collect the feverfew.”
While she poked through the basket, I moved to a potted Petalyn plant, pruning bits of withered leaves from the sad-looking specimen. “I collected it on the way back from visiting Speck.” Returning empty-handed wasn’t an option when my mentor sent me foraging.
Sebastian examined the foliage as well, sniffing a leaf then sneezing. I used to worry he’d ingest something he shouldn’t, but the cat had an even better sense for things than Yaga.
“And how is that rapscallion?”
“He’s fine.” Despite the dragon she refused to discuss. “I’m just worried how he’ll fare once Mortis hears of the missing nerf.”
“Mmm. Coldhearted, that one. Though I suspect he won’t be a problem around here for much longer.”
“What do you mean?” I paused my pruning, giving her a sidelong glance. “Did you have another vision?”
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with, dear.”
Unlike other Puritans, I wasn’t afraid of magic per se, more like fascinated. It was the persecution of wielders in Nefarr that terrified me. The high ruler showed no mercy when it came to the impure.
I huffed a sigh, tossing dried Petalyn leaves into a bin. Poor thing was showing signs of petal plague. The untreatable virus was a death sentence for a plant. It wouldn’t be long before the infection completely took over.
“I had better change before I attend to Lady Penelope.” I’d hate to give her one more reason to berate me.
“One moment. Before you go, there’s something I’d like to give you.” With gnarled fingers, Yaga rummaged in the mysterious depths of her bottomless apron pocket. “Something you should have before I leave.”
“Leave? But you just got here.” With her healing skills in high demand, Yaga journeyed across numerous kingdoms, providing medicines and potions to the sick.
She’d been teaching me to do the same, so that I might elevate my position here at Rottbarry.
Even among the Puritans, those who could heal were valued and respected.
“Trouble is brewing. I wish I could stay longer, but it’s important that I ensure all are prepared.” She thrust a small leather pouch into my hands without preamble. “Open it.”
I loosened the drawstring. Inside was a smooth, rounded stone with strange runes etched into the surface. Thin wire wrapped its shape, suspending it on a chain. It was the sort of thing that screamed illegal magical artifact—burn me at once.
“What is it? A necklace?” Please be an ugly necklace.
Her graying brow furrowed. “You were wearing this the day that couple found you. They brought it to me to see if it was worth anything. I was afraid they’d try to sell it on you, so I’ve kept it safe ever since. It’s time you had it back.”
At seven turns old, I was found alone in the woods with no memory of how I’d gotten there. The couple who discovered me took me in for a few years. Until they sold me and Speck to the high ruler, Lord Richwell. The mystery of how I’d come to be in those woods had kept me awake many lonely nights.
Without those memories, I was a nobody, alone in this world save for Speck. Why was it that no one had wanted me? Missed me? Was I abandoned or lost? What could I have done to deserve such a fate?
The air in my lungs turned heavy, and I dangled the chain on my finger, watching the way the firelight illuminated the etchings. “Are you sure it’s mine?” While I had no memory of the stone, it did have a familiar weight.
“Absolutely. Some might mistake me for an old woman, but believe me when I say I’m in my prime. Hell, for a hag, I’m just getting started.”
“If you say so, Yaga.” I failed to keep the disbelief from my tone.
Yaga cast me a squinty-eyed glare. “Just shut up and pay attention. Here.” She shoved the ugly rock into my palm, demanding, “Hang on to it tight.”
I squeezed the stone in my fist, the wire poking my skin. “And?”
“Now hold it above that plant you’ve been fondling.”
“Fondling! I was not—”
“Yah. Yah. Just do it.”
I huffed a heated breath, thrusting my hand over the dying plant. The things I did to make the woman happy. “Now what?”
“Close your eyes and paint a picture of the plant in your mind, only healthy.”
“You’re kidding.” I cast her a sideways glance. This was it. The moment my elderly mentor lost what remained of her shriveled mind.
Her bony fingertip flicked the tip of my ear.
I uttered a yelp, rubbing my abused flesh.
“Enough of your sass, girly. Do as I say.”
“Yes, Yaga,” I huffed, closing my eyes and doing as I was ordered. In my mind, an image of the struggling plant took shape. Only instead of deep-fried and extra crispy, it looked as it did weeks ago, green leaves shining with vitality, fat blossoms glowing pink.
“Okay. Now what?”
“Open your eyes.”
I glanced at the plant and sucked a sharp breath. Before me was an ideal specimen of floral perfection. Bright pink flowers clung to stems that practically vibrated with health. Where once there was shriveled vegetation, now there were glistening emerald leaves. My skin erupted in a cold sweat.
“Th–th–that’s not possible.” My voice wavered. “It’s healed. It’s…”
Yaga’s musty breath grazed my cheek. “Magic,” she whispered, the shape of the word turning jagged as it scraped past my eardrum.
No. No way did I just take part in some magical experiment. An illegal magical experiment. One that would see me burned to a crisp. Ice slid through my veins, locking my body in place.
Not daring to exhale, I pinged my eyeballs from the stone to the plant. The stone. The plant. Stone. Plant. Stone. Plant.
Stone.
“Flark!” I yelped, flinging the dangerous object onto the workbench and scrambling back.
Heart pounding hard enough to crack ribs, I scrubbed my hand on my ruined skirt. “It’s a trick. You switched the plants.”
“And why would I do that?” Yaga huffed.
“Who knows? Elderly people do weird things as they get older.”
The wrinkles around her pursed lips deepened. “Careful, girly.”
Fates. She was right. No reason to insult the woman, especially not someone of her advanced years. “I don’t understand.” Why put me in this position, endanger my life? Yaga knew how the Puritan community treated wielders.
“What’s there to understand? The stone is yours. Now that you’re old enough to be trusted with it, I’m returning it to you.”
“And I am giving it back.” I pointed a finger at the cursed stone. “No way I’m keeping that thing. You know what would happen to me if someone found it in my possession. Fates save me, what if someone saw?”
I dashed to the door and slowly, carefully cracked it open. The hallway outside was empty, not a guard or flaming torch in sight. Exhaling a sigh, I closed the door, then locked it, and dashed back to the workbench. The beautiful plant glared back at me. A shining beacon ushering in my death.
Evidence of my crime. It had to go.
With a sharp twist of my fingers, I plucked the fragrant blossoms from the stems, then jogged to Yaga’s hearth, tossing them into the flames.
Yaga folded her bony arms over her sagging bosom. “Look at you carrying on. Haven’t you always wanted a connection to your past? Here, I give you one, and you’re behaving like a nutter.”
Panic jolted down my spine, propelling my feet into motion, sending them across the length of the room and back. “No way. Absolutely not. I’ll have no part of that thing.”
I spun to face my mentor. “Do you want to watch me burn? You know I’m allergic to fire.” Maybe Yaga could get away with having the illegal relic in her possession, especially since she really didn’t claim any one place as home, but not me. Not as an indentured slave of the high lord.
She pondered me with calculating eyes, tapping her whiskered chin. After a lifetime, she tossed up her hands. “Fine. Far be it from me to force it on you if you’re not ready. But mark my words. The time will come when you regret this decision. When that happens, you’ll know what you need to do.”
I coughed a broken laugh. “The day I come to you, begging for some mystical rock that’s likely to see me spinning over a spit is the day the world ends.”
She waggled a finger at me, cloudy eyes darkening with some odd gleam.
“Best watch your words, girly. The fates are always watching and listening. You know there’s nothing they like more than a challenge.
” The hag grew serious, grasping both my hands, peering deep into my eyes in a way that made me shiver.
“Dark times lie ahead of you, young lady. Stay true to yourself. Don’t stray from the light. ”
Poor Yaga was acting strange tonight, even more so than usual. Perhaps her mind was actually slipping. My heart twisted at the thought, my concern for my mentor surpassing my fear of the stone. What would I ever do without her? She was the only one who really saw me. Saw me as more than a servant.
“Promise me.” Her grip tightened, her rounded nails digging into my hands.
“I promise, Yaga,” I swore, though I had no idea exactly what it was I was agreeing to.
Her face softened into an expression of motherly affection. “You’re a good girl, Serafina. One of my favorites by far. Probably because you remind me so much of myself.”
My cheeks flushed. Although the hag was still talking a bit crazy, the compliment warmed my insides.
Quick kiss to my forehead, and she released me as though the moment between us had never happened. “Off with yah then. I’ve plenty of work to do before my departure tomorrow, and you’ve chores to complete.”
Unfortunately, she was right. I could put off my duties no longer. I’d rather face a fire-breathing dragon than what awaited me.