The Black Shuck. #2
“Deadlice menn cwellan wiccean. Deadlice menn macode thee hydan. Deadlice menn macode thee faeran.” Mortal men killed wizards and witches. Mortal men made you hide. Mortal men made you fear, she intoned.
I nodded. “Gese.” Yes, I replied.
“Ceosan’th rite sede oe feohtan fowr.” Choose the right side to fight for. Her voice echoed as she melted into nothingness.
For a brief moment, it felt as though I ceased to exist entirely. Then, I awoke, standing on snow-covered grass once more—back in the Wetlands.
“Niamh,” Avice called.
I glanced over my shoulder to see her watching me from a distance.
As she stumbled backward, she asked, “Who are you talking to?”
“No one—”
“I heard you speaking in Yfelle,” Avice interrupted, her voice trembling with unease.
I forced a laugh. “How would I know Yfelle?” I asked, coating my words in feigned disbelief.
I waited, wondering whether her eyes would widen with curiosity. Instead, they narrowed with suspicion.
“Witch,” she muttered, as though questioning whether I truly was the thing she feared the most.
I shook my head. “Me?” I gasped, pretending the accusation was so absurd I wasn’t sure if I’d misheard her.
Avice pointed at me. “Yes, you.” She took another step back. “That’s why you were nursing that.” She shifted her finger toward Dog. “You were helping the evil spread.”
Dog barked sharply, making Avice flinch.
“You’re wrong,” I insisted firmly, while dread warmed the nape of my neck.
“I fear I’m not,” she replied, stumbling as though terrified. “I promised my father I’d help him protect the Wetlands.”
My stomach knotted tighter than a sailor’s yoke. “From what?” I demanded.
“Magic,” she spat, like the word tasted foul.
“Your father protects no one,” I yelled, anger burning the back of my throat. “He sends innocent boys to their slaughter, clawing at the glory that once rained down on him—”
“I’m his only remaining heir,” Avice said. “I won’t let you tarnish his legacy.”
“You’re a woman,” I remarked, pointing at her. “May I remind you.”
Avice shook her head, denial etched across her face. “A sole female heir isn’t the same as a daughter among many sons.”
“Half the bastards in the Wetlands belong to your father,” I said, gesturing toward the villages. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re his only heir.”
“I’m his only legitimate one,” Avice declared, thumping her fist against her chest.
I shook my head. “Your father sees you as nothing but a stepping stone in his pursuit of power. Why else would he marry you to the King’s son—a man you’ve never even met?”
For a moment, Avice held my desperate gaze. Her eyes welled, lip trembled, and I thought that she was questioning everything she’d ever known. Faltering, as if realizing magic couldn’t be evil if her dearest friend possessed it.
I offered her a smile, praying she might give me one back.
But she didn’t.
She turned swiftly, her auburn hair floating on the chill, and marched away—quickening her pace as I followed.
“Please,” I begged, clutching my thudding heart. “You know how much I care for you.”
I reached for her arm, my fingertips brushing her velvet cloak. But she jolted out of reach, flinching as though she feared me.
“All the years I’ve known you, I’ve never showed you any side of me that was evil,” I pleaded, desperate for her to spare my life.
Avice peered over her shoulder—mouth scrunched tight as if sucking on something sour.
“You wear your disguise well,” she said.
Quicker than the day turns to dusk, she turned and ran.
But I was always nimbler than Avice. I clipped her ankles with my foot, sending her tumbling to the ground.
“Please,” I begged, wrestling against her while she screeched like a banshee.
She struck me repeatedly over the head with her palm until stars danced before my eyes. I hit her face with my clenched fist, hoping that would knock her out, but it only made her scream louder.
After a few moments of tussling, I managed to grapple her wrists, pinning her down in the snow.
“Please, Avice, don’t have me hanged,” I cried.
She struggled in my grasp, but I fought harder to restrain her against the melting snow. Her gaze locked onto my tear-streaked face, and I hoped she’d see the anguish in my eyes—that she’d realize I wasn’t a beast, and that magic wasn’t the reason wickedness resided among men.
Avice opened her mouth as though to speak, but instead, she spat phlegm. I flinched, but I knew her saliva couldn’t harm me.
“Help!” Avice screeched, over and over again.
Dog sat beside her head, watching as we both fought for our lives. I knew that if I didn’t stop her, she’d have me and my family hanging from the hawthorn trees before dawn.
Dog barked, drawing my attention. Her eyes burned brighter than the heart of a flame. Tilting her head back and forth, she watched our tussle with unsettling intrigue, as though she understood in a way I didn’t know animals could.
“Helfan.” Help, I pleaded, knowing Dog was my only chance of escaping persecution.
The moment the Yfelle left my lips, Avice wailed louder.
Dog bared her yellow fangs, her irises blazing orange. She let out a deep, guttural growl.
Avice halted her blows. I crawled away as she staggered to her feet. She bolted, but Dog only needed two powerful bounds to catch up, leaping into her. Falling to the ground, Avice let out an agonizing cry. I buried my head between my knees, trying to block out the screeching and snarling.
Then there was silence.
I looked up at the stars that freckled the sky, each pinprick of light flickering. Glancing down, I noticed Dog loomed over something. I staggered to my feet, edging closer. Around her hind legs, the snow had been stained crimson, as though strawberries had been crushed into it.
I peered over her mound of black fur to see what she was gnawing at. There wasn’t much left of her face, but I knew it was Avice from the auburn braid resting on her shoulder. Without a doubt, she was dead.
Dog ground her teeth against Avice’s bones, tearing away the still-warm flesh to feast on. Before I could double over, bile spewed from my mouth. I collapsed among the bloodstained snow, retching violently.
In a moment where I tried to catch my breath, my gaze fell on Avice again. The lavender ribbon Finn had gifted her was woven into her plaits.
“No,” I cried, mourning the future Finn almost had.
A noise distracted me from sinking into a state of desolation—chatter, growing louder.
I stood, raising my trembling palms in front of my face. They were no longer pale but dark, stained with blood. I wiped them down the front of my kirtle, smearing my chalk-white chemise the color of a poppy petal.
“Dog, come,” I called, my voice shaking.
She ignored my command, continuing to gorge on Avice’s flesh.
“Come,” I said again, sterner this time.
Reluctantly, Dog followed me. Together, we walked toward the glowing lamps marking the outskirts of the village. I was dazed, moving on instinct alone, like a moth drawn to a bright flame by the promise of warmth. The only sound on this quiet evening was the crunch of Dog’s paws kicking up stones.
The smell of bonfire hung heavy in the air, cutting through the taste of bile lingering in my mouth.
I stopped at the well, pulling the rope until the pail swung before me. I cupped handfuls of water into my mouth, gulping until the taste of vomit was gone. Then I pulled off my cloak and poured the remaining water over my chest, hoping to wash away the blood from the linen.
Footsteps beat the stone path behind me. I turned to see Adder approaching the well.
“Why are you out on your own so late?” he asked.
“I spilled ale down myself,” I stuttered, trying to sound casual as my heart pounded painfully fast. “I need to rinse it before the stain sets.”
“Let me see,” Adder said, shoving his hands between the lacing on the front of my kirtle.
The stitches of my chemise popped as he forced his way into my undergarments. For a moment, shock froze me still like I was made of stone, and I let him grope my breasts.
His pipe-smoke breath assaulted my cheek as he pressed his loins against me. “Do you still think you have as much power as me?” he groaned, his hands groping greedily.
The cold handle of the pail chilled my palms as I tried to summon the strength to use it as a weapon.
Adder kissed my neck, making me squirm. “You smell like copper,” he said, sniffing my skin.
Dog growled from behind us.
Adder stumbled backward, releasing me. “The Black Shuck,” he stammered.
Dog bared her teeth, her red eyes glowing like rubies as she edged closer.
“Witch,” Adder gasped.
Before he could taint my skin any further, I swung the pail into the air. It struck his head with a sickening thud. Adder staggered back, tripping over his own drunken footing as he collapsed beside the stone well.
By the time I could process what had happened, my feet were running away. The village melted into a blur as I hastened to my front door.
A shriek echoed throughout Green Vale.
“The Black Shuck!” a man shouted as I threw myself through the door, slipping on the straw-covered floor.
“What’s going on?” Henry mumbled, stumbling out of his chamber.
Mother appeared beside me, helping me back onto my feet. Her eyes fell on my bloodstained chemise.
She peered through a crack in the curtain. “Go to sleep,” she demanded.
Without a question, Henry shuffled back to his bedstead.
I quivered like the last autumn leaf, clutching the barren branch it had always known as home.
“She saw,” I whispered, trembling uncontrollably. “She was going to have us killed.”
Mother gently shook me. “Who?”
“Magic,” a cry echoed through the Wetlands.
“Avice is dead,” I said, glancing out of the window, fearing I’d see a group of villagers with pitchforks coming for me.
Mother pulled me away from the pane. “You promised me you wouldn’t venture into the forest,” she said, her voice panicked.
“Are they going to kill me?” I pressed.
“I don’t—you need to vanish.”
“No,” I pleaded, desperate for life to return to how it had been that morning.