“Maisha, Maisha… my sweet Maisha…”

  Maisha stared up into Yaga’s eyes, a shade of blue so dark they almost looked black. She knew there was no point in begging or pleading any longer. She simply watched her mentor with a blank expression. Her legs had been rendered useless, her lower body no longer able to move on its own. But that was nothing compared to…

  Maisha turned her head away from Ua’s lifeless body, unable to stand the sight.

  “It was a painless curse, wasn’t it?” Yaga whispered in a gentle tone as she caressed Maisha’s cheek with a hand. “You felt nothing when I cast it, right?”

  Maisha slowly closed her eyes and remained silent. What a fool she had been.

  “Don’t… don’t treat me like this…” Yaga breathed. “Don’t treat me like the enemy.”

  At Maisha’s reticence, Yaga abruptly straightened up and turned her back to her broken apprentice.

  “You understand, right?” Yaga asked, her voice rising slightly in pitch. “You left me with no choice.”

  Maisha swallowed hard at the plea hidden in Yaga’s harsh tone.

  “You only think you want to leave me, but what are you without me?” Yaga firmly explained. “We’re two of a kind. We have to stick together. In the end I had no choice- this was for your own good. It was all for your sake! You understand.”

  Maisha looked up at the clear blue sky above her and caught sight of an eagle soaring high overhead. If only… if only she hadn’t been born a witch. If only she hadn’t been born human at all.

  “It’s a permanent curse,” Yaga suddenly said in a monotone voice. “I didn’t want to leave any room for you to…”

  Her words tapered off and her expression slackened.

  “I… I had to. I had to…” the ancient witch muttered, her eyes glazed over. “I had no choice, I had-”

  Maisha pulled herself out of the vision with great effort. There was nothing more to gain from staying in that nightmare any longer. She dabbed the cold sweat off her forehead and anxiously pressed a hand against her empty sleeve. Ua had been gone for weeks now, searching for the key item Maisha needed to take Yaga down. She would have loved to go herself, but sending Ua in her stead was far less risky. It was difficult to say when or where Yaga was watching, but Maisha knew for a fact that the old hag hardly paid Ua any mind. Actually, Maisha suspected Yaga didn’t even see her familiar as a living, breathing creature, but more as an object, or a tool.

  Maisha shuddered. In most of the visions where she failed, Ua wound up dead. Sometimes, Maisha would see herself screaming in agony at the loss, Yaga watching with an odd look on her face. Something akin to disdain and confusion. As if she didn’t understand how the loss of one’s familiar was so terribly heartbreaking.

  Maisha tried to push the still fresh image of Ua’s broken body out of her head. Though she had more or less discovered how to consistently hold the future steady- the future she wanted- she still slipped sometimes.

  And lately, she had been slipping a lot.

  She knew the reason for it. She had gotten into a bad habit of wasting her readings trying to find ways to spare Yaga’s life. And those motivations had seeped into all her other readings, contaminating her visions like poison.

  With a slight frown, Maisha picked up the clear quartz orb on her desk and closed her eyes again. She had figured out how to use crystal balls without fracturing them- it was a simple matter of adjusting the flow of mana- so with the stone’s assistance, she was now able to read the future multiple times in one night.

  But she couldn’t seem to concentrate. Images of Ua, dead in some form or fashion, overwhelmed her mind. What if something bad had happened to him while he was gone? Or perhaps he was safer on this journey than he was here… What if she couldn’t protect him when he returned? What if she let him down?

  “Maisssssssha.”

  Oh great, I want him to come home so badly that I’m hallucinating. Just great. I don’t have time for this!

  “Maissssssha!!”

  “O-oh!” Maisha cried when her beloved familiar slithered up a leg of her desk and put his head in her hand. “Ua!”

  Without another word, Ua regurgitated the small stone that had been lodged in his throat into Maisha’s hand.

  “I found what you were looking for.”

  “Thank… thank you…” Maisha said, trying her best not to grimace in disgust at the slime now covering her hands. She grabbed a handkerchief and wiped off the goo while Ua proudly slithered his way into Maisha’s sleeve.

  This is it, Maisha thought, holding up the stone to the light. It was pale in color, with smooth edges and a porous texture. A clean hole carved straight through its center. Maisha held it up to her eye and peered through it.

  There were plenty of stones with holes through the center, but only a select few were strong enough to hold a fragment of a witch’s soul. And this was one such stone. A stone with the potential of becoming a hagstone.

  Ua wriggled contentedly against Maisha’s arm, clearly happy to have returned to his warm burrow. Maisha gently stroked his scaly head. Yaga may have saved her life. May have been her mentor, her protector, her strongest ally. May have been the closest thing Maisha ever had to a mother.

  But she didn’t want to live her life walking on eggshells, afraid that any slip-up, or a simple whim of Yaga’s would cost her her life. Afraid that she might lose Ua at any moment.

  Maisha placed a hand on the wall of her room. The very house had been built on the life of Yaga’s own familiar. It was the most beautiful house Maisha had ever seen. Stained glass windows filtering in pastel light, intricate woodworking detailing the staircases and doorways, an internal structure capable of changing itself with a word. And the house could even move. Could walk wherever Yaga wanted it to go.

  But it came with a price.

  Would Yaga try to convince her to give up Ua’s life for something more one day?

  Maisha clenched her fist. It didn’t matter. It would never come to that. She wouldn’t let it.

  Maisha took a deep breath and steeled her heart. If she was going to rid herself of Yaga once and for all, she had to fully commit.

  She couldn’t afford to waver any longer.

  *

  “You were right, Maisha,” Yaga grinned, her cheeks creasing with wrinkles. “Luck was on my side in the Siberian wilderness.”

  Maisha’s brows raised in mock surprise as Yaga began explaining the events of her trip, how she had met several interesting humans along the way and had even come across an interesting demon hidden deep within an old growth forest.

  “Seems it was some sort of mushroom type,” Yaga mused with a smirk. “Though it didn’t look like any sort of fungus I’d ever seen.”

  Maisha tilted her head.

  “How do you know it was a mushroom type then?” she asked inquisitively.

  “Spores,” Yaga sighed, lighting the fireplace with a snap of her fingers and sinking into her armchair. “They saturated the air around the thing to the point where it was difficult to breathe.”

  Maisha’s heart rate quickened.

  She really came across the Lungcap Demon, just as she did in my vision! And if she inhaled the spores, then…

  “Yaga,” Maisha frowned, her brows furrowed in worry. “You shouldn’t have gotten so close to it- what if those spores had been toxic?”

  “Ha!” Yaga barked, beckoning Maisha over to her side. “Worried about me, are you? Don’t fret, my dear, the spores only caused me a bit of irritation. Nothing my body can’t handle.”

  Yaga gently patted Maisha’s cheek and sank into her chair.

  “If only you had been there to see it,” Yaga sighed. “It used its roots like legs, and had some interesting…” Yags wiggled her fingers a bit as she spoke. “..tendrils snaking out of it. I assume they functioned something like whiskers. Fascinating.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” Maisha scolded. “Just because you’re the world’s most powerful witch doesn’t mean you can’t get sick.”

  Yaga opened her mouth, looking very much like she was about to protest her apprentice’s claims, but Maisha interrupted her before she could.

  “Did you remember to eat while you were away?” the younger witch curtly asked, a slight frown perfectly crafted on her lips. Yaga raised her brows and cast a quick sidelong glance in Maisha’s direction.

  “...Mmn.”

  Maisha placed her hands on her hips.

  “That’s the least convincing thing I’ve heard from you since you got back,” Maisha scolded. “I made some soup earlier. I’ll bring you some of that.”

  Yaga grumbled something about how her body required far less food than the average witch’s, and to eat so often was simply a waste, but Maisha had already left the room and made her way into the kitchen where the wild rice and mushroom stew sat waiting in a pot on the stove. Maisha lit a flame beneath the pot and warmed the stew before ladling all of it into a small bowl.

  “Here. Eat,” Maisha demanded, handing the hot bowl to Yaga when she returned to the living room. “I don’t care how powerful you are. Everyone needs to eat.”

  Yaga begrudgingly took the bowl and downed the soup.

  “You’ve grown to be such a pain,” she grumbled, a slight smile curling the edges of her lips as she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Maisha smiled and took the empty bowl from Yaga’s cold hands. As she stood to return the bowl to the kitchen, Yaga gently grasped hold of her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

  “Maisha,” she said in a soft voice, her deep blue eyes holding a tender fondness as she gazed at Maisha. “For a long time now, I’ve thought of you as my own.”

  Maisha stared blankly at the old witch, her heart itching uncomfortably. She quickly dispelled the feeling.

  “I’ve thought of you as a daughter.”

  As she wrapped a hand over Yaga’s, Maisha’s coal-black eyes met the gaze of the old witch.

  “I know, Yaga. You’re family to me, too.”

  Hearing what she had been wanting to hear, Yaga smiled gently and released her grip on Maisha’s arm. As the old hag began nodding off, Maisha made her way back into the kitchen. She stared at the empty bowl of soup in her hands, careful not to let any of the liquid touch her skin. The dose of poison in the soup was only strong enough to exacerbate the symptoms of inhaling Lungcap spores- it was not enough to kill a witch, even if ingested. But if some of it contacted Maisha’s skin and caused a rash, the likelihood of Yaga noticing something amiss increased dramatically.

  An outcome Maisha desperately wished to avoid.

  Back in the kitchen, Maisha thoroughly cleaned the bowl and disposed of the last traces of soup in the pot. If she needed more, she would just make it again later. The ingredients were not difficult to find- amanitins were the key component of the poison, a toxin found in any mushroom of the Amanita genus, plenty of which grew on the island, along with a variety of edible mushrooms.

  The risky part was collecting them without catching the attention of Yaga’s watchful eye. The old hag knew countless spells, some of which cost her the same amount of energy to cast as it did to lift a finger. After living with her for so long, Maisha was well aware of many of these spells. And was aware of just how much information the old witch could collect in a matter of seconds.

  But of course, one cannot be looking everywhere all at once. And even if they could, the amount of information received would simply be too much to process, even for a witch’s brain. So Maisha had focused many of her visions on ascertaining when and where Yaga’s focus lapsed. In truth, if she went ahead with her plans even without taking this precaution, she would likely be fine. The likelihood that Yaga was watching her at any given moment was low, and even if she did witness something, most of Maisha’s suspicious actions included picking mushrooms, brewing stew, and grinding up herbs. Albeit toxic mushrooms, poisonous stew, and deadly herbs. But even so, Maisha doubted Yaga would notice those details and pass her actions off as normal. Still, reducing the risks everywhere she could would only increase her probability of success.

  Upon putting away the wooden dishes, Maisha's thoughts turned to the toxic spores and poison already coursing through Yaga’s bloodstream. It was only natural that the old hag would notice poison in her system right away. But since Maisha had sent her to that toxic demon first…

  She knows hardly anything about the Lungcap demon… actually I doubt that any other witch has come across it before. I could find no texts with information on the creature, even after briefly looking through the resources of demonkind. Even I only know of its existence through visions. So when her symptoms gradually get worse, she’ll assume it was the fault of the Lungcap she found without knowing any better- I’ve ensured that the poison I prepared for her will at first only amplify her current symptoms.

  She’ll be so focused on repairing her liver and purifying her bloodstream that she won’t notice the other problems in her body until it’s too late.

  Maisha stepped up onto a stool and scanned the labels identifying the various dried goods on the top shelf. Ua slithered out from the collar of her shirt and watched silently as she pulled a jar off the shelf.

  Ah, here it is.

  Ground dandelion root. An ingredient frequently used for the purpose of purifying and strengthening the liver. Maisha pulled a small packet out of her breast pocket and dumped its contents into the jar. The powder from the packet was so similar in texture and color to the ground dandelion root that anyone watching might assume she was just adding in more of the same. She gently mixed the two together, the new substance blending in seamlessly with the old.

  Maisha had spent a while perfecting the formula for the powder and was quite proud of it. The most troublesome ingredient had been the hogweed sap, a substance known to cause severe skin irritation when exposed to the sun. And when combined with blister beetles, water hemlock, and a touch of mana, an entirely new effect arose.

  Maisha stared coolly into the now contaminated jar. Yaga would no doubt brew herself a potion to assist her healing, and dandelion root would naturally be the main component. But with Maisha’s herb mixture added, additional symptoms would arise; continuous ingestion of the powder would cause the gradual dulling of the five senses.

  Maisha returned the jar to its place on the shelf, a sense of satisfaction washing over her as she witnessed firsthand the steps of her meticulously crafted plan falling into place. Maisha absentmindedly rubbed the stone in her pocket, feeling as though the action would bring her good luck. She curled it tight into her palm, her fingertips pressing into the hole in the stone’s center. It was the final piece of the puzzle. The key that brought everything together. A rare type of stone with the capacity of sealing away a part of a witch’s soul.

  Just a bit longer… I just have to wait a little bit longer, and then I’ll be free.

  But of course, no matter how well one prepares, the future tends to deviate in unexpected ways.

  *

  How could this be…

  Ah, Maisha,” Yaga sighed as she unsteadily lowered herself into her armchair. “Be a dear and show this sweet boy to his room.”

  Maisha stared, wide-eyed, at the young teen before her, her mind momentarily frozen in shock. It took all her focus just to keep her expression from twisting.

  No one else was supposed to get hurt…

  Logically thinking, this should not have been a surprise. Whenever Yaga felt she needed more strength, when she was sick or about to go on a strenuous journey, she would find a child to devour. Maisha knew this fact. But she had thought she had taken all the necessary precautions to avoid such an outcome.

  The absolute hubris of her actions had been laid bare for her to see. She had begun to think of herself as infallible behind the protection of her visions. But no matter how she prepared, her fortune telling could never be perfect. No matter how much time she spent reviewing her readings night after night, she was still taking the biggest she had ever taken.

  Neither her life nor her success were guaranteed.

  Maisha’s mouth suddenly went dry. She looked at the boy in front of her. He nervously brushed his hair out of his eyes, the light brown strands wrapping around his ears before falling back into his face. A smattering of freckles stained his nose and cheeks like the dappled spots of a young fawn.

  “Full of youthful energy, and meat still tender and fresh. Just as lamb’s meat becomes soft and flavorful if given a gentle death, a child who loved you when it was alive, who died before even realizing what even happened- I have found nothing in this world more enriching, nor more satisfying.”

  Yaga’s words echoed through Maisha’s mind as she fixed her expression and grabbed the boy’s hand.

  “This way. All the best rooms are upstairs,” she said with a reassuring smile.

  The boy glanced at Yaga, then up at Maisha as they began walking up the stairs.

  “U-um…” the boy whispered. “C-can… W-will I b-be ab-ble to g-g-go h-home s-s-s-soon?”

  Maisha slowed her steps and swallowed hard. She glanced down at the boy with a complicated heart. Usually Yaga only picked up unwanted kids with nowhere to go. Kids that wouldn’t miss their homes and wouldn’t be missed. Kids that were ‘better off this way.’ It was unusual for one to ask about their home, especially after Yaga bewitched their minds.

  “Soon…” Maisha smiled, uncertain if she was telling a lie or not. The boy nodded shyly and glanced nervously around the house. As they walked down the halls, Maisha studied the boy. His face gave the impression of a child around ten or so, still round with baby fat and brimming with innocence. But his height and the build of his body suggested he was closer to thirteen or fourteen- much older than the kids Yaga tended to pick up.

  Maybe the ancient witch had thought she needed more sustenance than what a small kid could offer? Or maybe she didn’t have the time to find the perfect meal before she needed to return? Maybe she was slipping… Maisha’s eyes momentarily glazed over in thought.

  “Here,” Maisha said softly as they came upon a room down the hall at the top of the stairs. It was the same room most of the kids stayed in. Stained glass suncatchers hung in front of the large window on the back wall, and various toys overflowed from boxes at the base of the bed and in the closet. A plush, fur rug covered the hardwood floor and a soft, fluffy bed sat against the wall by the window. Maisha pulled a matchbook from her pocket and lit a couple of candles.

  “This is where you’ll be staying. Is there anything else you need?”

  The kid silently looked up at Maisha, his amber eyes impossibly wide.

  “Then if that’s all, I’ll be-”

  “D-d-don’t… Don’t g-go…” the kid choked out, grabbing a hold of Maisha’s dress. “P-plea… please.”

  Maisha looked down at the child, somewhat stunned.

  “Um… Alright…”

  Usually Yaga would place a light bewitchment on any child that didn’t take an immediate liking to her, so most of them clung to her instead of Maisha, treating Maisha with a more hesitant shyness than anything else. It was rare for a kid to show any sort of inclination towards her.

  The boy’s grip on her dress tightened.

  “It f-feels…” he began, speaking slowly and enunciating his words. “As though I-I… am n-not… supposed t-to be… here.”

  His voice was so quiet that Maisha had to lean in to hear what he was saying.

  “Not supposed to be here…?”

  “Sh-she seemed v-very… k-kind at f-f-first. She s-said she w-w… would give me a-a new… h-home…”

  The young teen paused and cast a strange glance at the sleeve Ua was hidden under.

  “But n-now I-I… I th-think I j-j-just want… T-to go h-home…”

  Maisha swallowed hard. If she let Yaga have her way, cook this boy into a stew or roast him like a lamb, she would hardly need to make any new adjustments to her plan. On the other hand, if she decided to try and rescue this young boy, the plan she had spent years building up could fall apart in an instant.

  And if that happened, her life, Ua’s life, this boy’s life, and the lives of whatever other children Yaga got her claws on would all be forfeit. The decision was easy. Maisha thought up some half-hearted lie, but at the sight of the boy’s desperate expression, the words stuck in her throat.

  “Th-they s-s-said I sh-should c-c-come t-to you.”

  Maisha blinked.

  “...who said..?” she asked slowly, a look of confusion passing across her face.

  The young boy cast another glance at Maisha’s sleeves before lowering his gaze to the ground.

  “W-well… u-um… th-the… the sn… s-snakes…” he said in a quiet voice.

  Maisha felt her mind go momentarily blank.

  Snakes…? What the hell is he talking about?

  At the increasing confusion in Maisha’s expression, the boy spoke up again.

  “I f-found a g-garter sn-snake on th-the way u-up h-h-here… b-but wh-when I-I-I picked h-her up, sh-she w-w-warned me th-that I-I-I sh-shouldn’t g-go th-that w-w-way with… w-with… h-her… I… I d-didn’t pay at-t-ttention at f-first b-but an-nother sn-snake s-s-said th-the s-same th-thing as I-I-I p-passed b-by s-s-so I-I b-b-began to s-suspect and s-suddenly m-m-my mind… felt l-like… a v-veil had b-been… l-lifted a-and… I…”

  Maisha stared at the boy in a daze as he continued uncontrollably babbling in a low and timid voice.

  As if a veil had been lifted? Did something break Yaga’s bewitchment?? But how could that possibly…

  No, there was a more important point in all of this.

  The boy flinched as Maisha turned her sharp gaze to him.

  “You,” she said in a low voice, her brows furrowed. “You can speak to snakes?”

  The boy swallowed hard before hesitantly nodding.

  “Y-yes,” he whispered, looking guilty somehow.

  Maisha stared at the boy, feeling somewhat at a loss. Had Yaga truly slipped and brought home a demon without knowing? Or a young witch?

  “I-I’ve been ab-ble t-to… s-since I w-was y-younger…”

  “I see…” Maisha frowned. “Did the snakes tell you anything else?”

  “Th-they s-s-said t-to s-seek out th-the l-lady w-w-with th-the sn-snake b-by her s-s-side…” the young teen said sheepishly, glancing at Maisha’s sleeves once more. “Th-that m-maybe she w-w-would help m-me get h-home…”

  The boy’s eyes widened as if struck with a sudden thought.

  “Th-there’s n-n-not an-another l-l-lady w-with a s-s-snake h-here, i-i-is th-there?”

  Maisha paused for a moment before slightly shaking her head.

  “No, it seems I would be the one they mentioned…” Maisha mused, her words slow and thoughtful. “But why would the snakes say something like this?”

  The boy shrugged and gave Maisha a sheepish look.

  …

  He looks a bit like my little brother did with that expression…

  Maisha let out a defeated sigh.

  “I… I’ll see what I can do. But I’m not making any promises.”

  The kid’s face lit up with a bright hopefulness at Maisha’s words, and he hesitantly grabbed hold of one of Maisha’s hands with his own.

  “Th… Th-thank you…” he said in a small voice, the warmth from his small hands creeping up into her heart. After a moment of hesitation, Maisha spoke again.

  “You can call me Maisha.”

  “M-M-Maisha… th-thank you,” he smiled softly at the witch who now held his fate in her palms.

  “What’s your name?” Maisha asked gently when he gave no indication of speaking further.

  “O-o-o-oh! M-m-m-my n-name…” he paused to take a short breath. “M-my name,” he repeated, more slowly this time. “Is Henry.”