Kaida threw the half-eaten tart in the trash along with gunk stained towels and all the junk that she’d sweeped off the floor. She pressed her skirt down, frowning at the wrinkles and the one stain left from an exploding vial.
What a horrible day.
The korunas were uncomfortably heavy in her pocket, but it didn’t feel right to shove them in the drawer. Ten thousand gold coins. It felt like a cruel joke – fate’s twisted taste in humor.
Ten years of her life, ten years of grueling hard work and humiliation weren’t enough to get that kind of money. And the demon had offered it like it’d been nothing. It would be enough to pay her debts, enough for her to leave. It was like he’d offered her everything she’d ever dreamed of. But the price…
Kaida would not jeopardize her wellbeing for a stupid ring.
So do not speak of things you don’t understand.
The demon could go fuck himself. Kaida wished him all the worst. In her childish anger, she even dared imagine the moment when he found his lover and realized that he’d been wrong.
“Love, my ass,” Kaida hissed under her breath. She’d sooner believe in flying trolls than in an idea as ridiculous as love. “I hope someone slaps you hard enough to snap some sense into that dense head of yours, you abominable, fucking–”
“Excuse me?”
Kaida whipped around to face a boy still in his teens. She’d somehow not heard the bell when he’d come in. He was on the thinner side, his hair a nest of black curls and a sprinkle of freckles over his nose and cheeks.
“What may I do for you?” She smiled, the forced action more tiring than usual.
“I, um… a friend of mine told me that, ah…”
“Yes?” Kaida coaxed with a grin she hoped looked inviting and not terrifying.
“There is this girl that will be attending the town ball and I, ah…” Kaida rolled her eyes. Lovesick fools, all of them. She mentally made a list of all the ingredients she would need for a love potion. The boy turned his big round eyes to her, his cheeks and neck red.
“Is there something that could let me talk to her?”
Kaida tilted her head, at a loss for words. “Pardon?”
“I– I want to ask her to dance, you see. And I’ve been practicing, my mother taught me all the steps. But she– Angela, I’ve never talked to her. I don’t know if I can invite her, or if…” he trailed off and looked at his shoes.
“She is pretty then?” Kaida asked, some of the ice in her heart thawing.
The boy nodded furiously. “Father said I am too young to wed, but if I could it would be her. She’s the best dancer and she reads all these difficult books. I tried reading them, but my head hurt too much.”
“A smart girl. Good choice.”
The boy nodded again and took out a handful of silver coins from his pocket. Kaida huffed a laugh. “You’re a cute kid.”
She rummaged through the charms on the wall until she picked a string of pixie silk she’d braided months ago. She tied it around a bunch of roses and handed it to the boy, closing his hand around the offering of coins.
“Before you ask her to dance, give her these flowers.”
“What will they do?”
“They will make sure you both have a wonderful evening.” The flowers were simply a nice gesture. And the pixie silk had a drop of luck infused in it. The boy probably didn’t even need it, but Kaida added, “And make sure to tell her how pretty she is. And smart. She’ll like that better.”
The boy hugged the bouquet like it was a newborn baby and thanked her profusely on his way out. Kaida watched him go from the window until his retreating figure was too small to see. Cute kid. Maybe he’d grow up to be not so terrible.
The rest of the day was pleasantly uneventful. Two more customers entered her shop; one demanded a spell that would make his horse stronger, and the other was an elderly woman who was in search of something to ease the pain in her knees.
And then her landlord came.
Ellias was a thin, balding man with an ever present sneer on his face. He wore clothes that mimicked the nobility of the big cities, even resorting to two golden rings on each hand that were so ridiculously big Kaida wondered how no one laughed at him at all times of the day.
He waltzed in her shop like he owned it, which she supposed was true. It was his shop, as were all the others in the street.
“Kaida,” Ellias went behind the counter and proceeded to shove his nose at every little trinket she’d left out.
“What a pleasure it is.” Kaida went into a mocking curtsy. She watched him with murderous intent while he opened drawer after drawer. “As unexpected as it is.”
He touched a leather pouch, his fingers going to untie it. “There is no such thing as unexpected if I own the place.”
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” Kaida crossed her hands and grinned in a way that exposed her teeth. “Ashes of a widow. She learned she’d been cheated on, then killed the husband and the lover, before she killed herself. Her ghost tried to eat me while I was collecting these.”
Ellias jumped away from the pouch and wasn’t fully able to silence his yelp of terror. Kaida grinned wider.
He coughed and straightened. “I’ve come for the rent. And to let you know it’s now 350.”
Kaida’s grin fell. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“You either pay up or free the space. It’s your choice.”
“You can’t do this.” Kaida waved her hands and the man cringed back. She would have snickered had her heart not fallen to her knees.
“I can and I have.”
Kaida could have filed a complaint against him years ago. Back when she’d barely been seventeen and he’d tried to get her to pay in other ways. And then when she’d refused he’d offered her this place for more money than she had. She’d resorted to scrubbing floors and cleaning shit from stables, rationing food and sacrificing herself as entertainment for the festivals. All so that she could have a semblance of peace and a means to work for a better future.
“350 is too much. You don’t ask that much of the other shop owners.” She widened her eyes and pouted her lips in the hopes that would soften the hateful man.
“You’re also occupying the top floor–”
“But still–”
“And,” Ellias pointed a crooked finger at her, his eyes roaming up and down her body in a particularly disgusting way. “You are not like the other shop owners.”
Kaida shut her mouth.
Right, because there was nothing she could say that would turn things in her favor. Not like other shop owners. Not human. She was a witch, a lesser being. So her rent was higher, and she had not been given the courtesy of a contract. And she knew that Ellias only had so much patience before he threw her to the streets.
Kaida opened one of the drawers and retrieved a wooden box from inside. It had a lock that opened from the push of her magic. Her landlord stared from over her shoulder as she opened the lid and counted the coins. When she was finished, she unceremoniously plopped them in a tattered bag and threw them on the counter.
Ellias scowled as he picked up the hefty bag. “Next time make sure to prepare a bank note.”
Kaida shrugged. “I would have gone to the bank today and done the deposit. But as I said, your visit was unexpected.”
The landlord walked out the door, limping to the side with the hefty weight. “Be grateful that I let you stay here at all.”
Kaida slammed the door after him, glad that the day was coming to an end. She tried to ignore her building rage in the only way she knew how. Order.
Each of her vials were placed in order of type, then potency. The charms on the wall were all leveled and sorted by color. She fluffed the pillows by the sitting area and dusted all the corners of the ceiling, noting that there were no spiderwebs. Even spiders were too good for her company.
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All the drawers were emptied, wiped and organized, and she did a quick inventory of her supplies. She would have to go to the apothecary soon. The thought of visiting that nasty old hag further dampened her mood, but then Kaida began scrubbing the rug and her mind emptied.
The sun was setting by the time she finished. Pride filled her at the sight of her spotless shop. It was no doubt the best in the area – she doubted any other witch put nearly as much effort as she did.
She gathered her cloak and grabbed a small coin pouch before she hurried out the door.
The street outside was bustling with energy, mostly from the people’s preparation for the coming ball. The balls in the small towns and villages weren’t nearly as extravagant as those in the big cities, and absolutely miniscule compared to the royal festivities, but there was a lot more passion. Mainly because it allowed a small window of blissful reprieve from the gruesome life of a commoner.
Stalls with foods and drinks were being set up, the shops on either side of the street were wiped clean and decorated with lanterns. Children bounced around in groups, wide smiles on their faces, since for most of them, the bi-anual ball meant they didn’t have to work for one day. Adults also walked with fresher faces, merchants and farmers, who would either get good coin in the coming days or a well-deserved break.
Kaida too intended to close up her shop. Not to go to the ball, she wouldn’t want to cause a scene, but to go to the seaside. She’d get herself a blanket and some snacks and build a fire on the beach. Just like when she was younger. When those kinds of things were normal.
A small smile crept up her face at the memory of her older sister Mallery and how they’d sneak away late at night to swim in the icy waters. Back then Mallery had just learned how to wield fire, so she would warm up both air and sea. Soon after that she’d started using her fire to burn villages. Kaida’s smile quickly faltered. Well, every good memory has a dirty spot on it, she supposed.
She’d barely locked the front door when something hard hit the back of her head. A small pebble rolled next to her boot.
“You witch!” The man’s voice was low and gritty and doused with enough menace that Kaida shivered before she faced him with deceiving calm.
“Did you just throw that at me?” she asked.
The man was in his late twenties with short curly hair and gaunty cheeks. Under his stained overalls was an even dirtier gray shirt, his blackened fingers gripping a bouquet of roses. A familiar strand of silk made Kaida’s stomach churn.
“You tried to bewitch my little brother,” the man spoke in a loud voice, spittle flying out of his mouth.
Kaida threw her hands up. “Those are just flowers.”
“Your kind is nothing but liars. Filthy, whoring liars!”
“I have no business with you. If you dislike the flowers, feel free to throw them somewhere.” Kaida started walking away, because if she stayed still for a moment longer she would wring his throat like a wet rag. But a bit of her anger still slipped out. “I hoped the boy would grow up to be a decent man. Though with a brother like you I don’t see how that’s happening.”
She didn’t have time to move away before he slapped her. The impact was so hard she stumbled a step back and clutched her cheek.
“How dare you?” she seethed.
But then the roses flew in her face and he squeezed her neck, shoving her against the wall. The windows rattled at her side.
“I don’t know how anyone stomachs you,” he said. His breath smelled atrocious, but that was the least of Kaida’s problems. “Time and time again, I try to tell the town head we should hang you in the square. Or burn you. Isn’t that how witches are dealt with?”
People began staring, but none made a move to intervene. Not for a witch. Never for a witch. Kaida pushed against him, each one of her breaths painful.
“I only… gave him… flowers.” He pushed her again and squeezed harder. At this rate he would kill her. “Let me… go. Pig.”
He spat in her face. Children stared, some with fear and others with excitement. Women who had gathered by a tailor shop were giggling. And the men who were watching – there was no pity in their eyes.
Kaida cursed at whatever witch in her lineage had brought her this bad luck. Maybe it would have been better if she’d just burned with her family. Then she would have never known what this humiliation felt like.
He finally let her go and she took a big gulping breath, ready to impress him with all the horrible words she knew. But then he slapped her again. And it was the distant giggles, the entertained murmurs, and the satisfied smirk on the man’s face that finally did it.
Kaida summoned air. She grabbed it like it was a tangible thing in her hands, letting it slip over her opened palms. She squeezed with shaking hands and the man slumped to his knees. He gasped and clutched at his throat, then his chest. How quickly anger turned to fear.
“Not so nice, is it?” Kaida spat. She didn’t care that people were looking, that some were gasping with outrage, and others hauled their children away from the main street. “Sucks when you can’t breathe.”
The man’s eyes turned pleading and Kaida smiled. She leaned down and whispered. “You ever touch me again, I will rip your heart out and eat it for dinner.”
His lips were turning blue, his eyes rolling back. Kaida continued, “Do you understand me?”
He was close to losing consciousness, so Kaida let go of her magic, letting his lungs fill with air. The man sputtered on the ground, twitching like a wounded bird and Kaida held her breath with dread.
What had she done? How could she?
A quick look told her that at least a dozen people saw what happened. But at least there were no patrolling guards.
Kaida jumped into a quick jog, not looking back. She took the smaller streets and the alleys occupied by the homeless and beggars. Her coin pouch rattled in her pocket, adding to the ringing noise in her head.
She stopped at a corner street and slumped against the wall, hugging her knees.
“Think, think.” Kaida murmured, her nails digging in her forearms. “They probably didn’t see anything. Or they– they don’t know what they saw. It’s okay. It’s fine.”
She kept whispering to herself, but the panic only rose. Ten years. She’d been so careful for so long. It wasn’t the first time someone came to taunt her, to attack her. She should have been more careful, she should have–
“Either come in or leave. You’re scaring potential customers.” Inna poked her head from the door, her thinning white hair falling in a long braid over one shoulder.
The town’s apothecary was both respected and feared. Kaida had heard stories that she came from Welia, the capital of Solin. That she had been in the castle’s royal apothecary and even personally knew the queen. But stories like these were easy to come by in small towns. There was one such story that claimed Kaida was hatched from an egg.
“Girl, did you not hear me?” Inna repeated.
“I was sitting. Is that illegal?” Kaida offered her a saccharine smile.
“It’s trouble when you bleed on my front door.” Inna jerked her head and then walked in. It was invitation enough. Kaida groaned as she got up and followed the woman inside the cramped space. Much like Kaida’s shop, there were vials and drawers filled with herbs.
Inna stopped at a worktable where she returned to chopping some mysterious ingredient.
“Grab a towel and clean yourself,” Inna said. “There’s some ointment by those glass bottles.”
“You’re so kind,” Kaida cooed and then cringed when she touched the back of her head, her fingers coming back with blood.
“What trouble did you get yourself into this time?”
“You should see the other guy.” Kaida picked up a shiny scalpel from a row of instruments then quickly put it down at Inna’s clicking tongue.
“So it was that big mouth of yours I reckon.” Inna turned around, that long braid whipping like a dragon’s tail. “I told you to leave a long time ago.”
Kaida snorted. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
“You’re thinner now than when I last saw you last.” She tusked, those beady eyes making Kaida feel smaller. “You look like a child.”
“I came for an order, actually.” Kaida wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then remembered she was still clutching the rag. Blood coated her lips, but at least no teeth were missing. “A lot of my customers have been coming with aches and coughs. I need some feverfew for some of my potions. Turmeric and willow bark too.”
“What you need is a good shake for that thick head of yours.”
Despite her sharp words and the general look of distaste on the old woman’s face, she went about the drawers to collect the herbs.
“My thick head is incurable, I’m afraid.” Kaida grinned. “Runs in the family.”
“Witches are not meant to be alone. It’ll fry your head eventually. Turn your heart rotten.”
Kaida’s chest squeezed but she maintained her mirthy appearance. “Oh, I have plenty of company granny, don’t you worry.”
“A coven, girl. You need a coven.” Inna set about filling a thick jar with turmeric. “And a husband. You’re too old to be going about by yourself.”
Kaida swallowed back a scream. She was not in the mood for this conversation. “Covens are such a nuisance. And witches don’t have husbands.”
“I met a witch who had a lifebound. It was ages ago, but I remember she told me they’d connected their souls and hearts. Such things exist.”
“She lied to you. Life Bounded is a myth.” Kaida shrugged.
It was the kind of story little witches were told before bed. The magic of binding one’s life to another in an eternal promise. In truth, witches never married, nor did they promise themselves to one person. Most witches grew up not knowing their fathers. “Besides, the town’s boys aren’t really my type.”
Inna weighed everything on a little scale then placed all three jars on the table next to Kaida. The old woman touched her cheek, her eyes darkening slightly with anger. “Do you intend to be alone forever?”
“Seems to work for you just fine.” Kaida shrugged and scooped two of the jars in her dress pockets. She would have to carry the third.
She picked up enough coins to cover the cost of the herbs, and added two silver coins because although the old apothecary had a viper’s tongue and had a perpetual scowl, she never turned Kaida down.
“Thanks. I’ll see you next week.” Kaida shut the door behind her in time to hear a grumbled response, but her day had been terrible enough without a conversation about marriage and life goals.
The walk back to the shop was tiring, but quiet. Though there were the occasional stares, and a woman did haul her child out of Kaida’s way on the paved street. A particularly nasty rumor must have started. But then again, rumors spread all the time.
So, Kaida tried to ignore the knot in her stomach when she returned home. She made sure the door and all the windows were locked before she climbed up the stairs to the attic.
The room was just barely big enough for a mattress and a chest of clothes. A small space divided only by a curtain was where the bathtub was. Two dusty windows, one of which never closed properly, let in orange light from the sunset.
Kaida plopped between the covers, her stomach grumbling. She doubted any of the bakers would sell her anything if they’d heard the rumors. And she was not in a begging mood.
Tomorrow would be a new day. The same day, really. It was always the same day, over and over, a never ending nightmare. She didn’t remember the last time a real smile had graced her lips. When had she last laughed? It might have been even before her family died.
Kaida let her eyes close, thoughts of fears and dreams swirling in her head.