Wolves Among Us (25 page)

“Let me out, Bjorn. We will go and seek help from the bishop, from the church fathers.”

“It’s too late. You brought Bastion. You did save me, in your way. I will not forget that.” Bjorn began backing up. Stefan was losing sight of his face.

“Bjorn, wait. The blood of these women is on my hands too. We are both guilty in the eyes of God.”

“No. I am not guilty. I am bewitched. You failed those women. You failed me.”

“Then do not let me fail Mia, too. Or little Alma. Bjorn, she tried to come to me so many times for help. I thought she was the problem. I blamed her. I did not help her.”

“I can’t stop to help Mia now. I should continue my work with Bastion. I have not harmed a woman since Rose burned. It’s working, Stefan. The curse is lifting.”

“Just find Mia and Alma. Guarantee their safety. Do this for me, so that my guilt will not be so great in the eyes of God.”

“Why would I do this for you?”

“Because soon everyone will know what you did. But one act of kindness, of loyalty to your wife, will prove all that you say—that you were bewitched. That you are a good man in your heart, and that the Devil worked through you. And not just prove this to me, but to everyone in the village, everyone who hears of our great struggle here. You will become famous, the man who escaped from the clutches of the Devil.”

Mia watched Hilda swaying back and forth, her back to Mia. Mia blinked, hoping to steady the image.

Hilda turned around and shuffled to her. Mia stared at the old face, swollen and doughy, with a fish’s mouth, lines drawn up tight around it. The woman had silver-colored hair hanging listlessly between stalks of white that clumped together in places. Mia closed her eyes.

It had been foolish to run, with no plan, with no hope, with only a determination not to give in to temptation.

Breath tickled her cheeks, and Mia opened her eyes. Hilda’s mouth hovered inches above her face. The old woman snapped her teeth.

Mia flinched, banging her head on the wooden beam supporting her pallet.

“You’re fine. Sit up,” Hilda said.

Mia pushed her feet over the edge of the pallet, touching the dirt floor. Alma slept on another pallet, her thumb stuck in her mouth, her hair done in beautiful braids.

“I kept her happy as you slept. She is a fine child. Healthy and strong.”

Hilda shuffled over to a black pot covered in burned drippings down all sides and filled a bowl with broth. She brought it to Mia.

“Drink this.”

Mia lifted the bowl to her nose and inhaled. It smelled better than most of what she cooked. She took a sip and pleasure shot through her veins. Mia lifted the bowl and gulped, letting food dribble down her chin.

Hilda sat on her haunches, watching Mia.

Mia lowered the bowl, gasping for air. The old woman looked shocked at her manners. “I am sorry to cause such trouble for you,” Mia said. “I was foolish to run into the forest.”

“Are you done, then?” Hilda asked, reaching for the bowl. Mia moved it away from her. If the woman would only turn her back, Mia would run her fingers through it and lick what she scraped up.

“I don’t want you here. Because you are a woman, because you are lost, I feed you. But I do not want you here. Eat and leave. First light has come.”

“Where should I go?”

“You do not know where you want to go?” She squinted, leaning toward Mia. “Did you plan to die in the forest?”

“I was already dead. I just wanted to save my daughter. And my conscience.”

Hilda sat back, chewing her lip, studying her. Mia stretched, her chest still sore. Her arms were heavy and numb.

“Tell me your name.”

“Mia, wife of Bjorn, sheriff of Dinfoil.”

The woman covered her mouth with her hands. She hobbled to the door, leaning out and peering in all directions before shutting it.

“No one followed you?”

“No. Bjorn wanted me gone.”

“I’m sure he did.”

The woman paced the short length of her home over and over, then turned back to Mia. “You’ve got to leave right now. I fed you. You’re strong. Go.”

“Where?”

“Leave here and walk toward the sun. Find the path and follow it. Do not return to your home. I will give you money, but you must never return to this house, either.”

“But why must I go right now? No one followed me, certainly not Bjorn. Why would you be afraid of him?”

“So it is true?”

“What?”

“And you did not run to me? You did not run thinking I would save you, just like the others?”

Mia shook her head.
Others?

“You know nothing?” She kicked with one foot at Mia, spraying dirt over Mia’s feet. Mia just shook her head again, lost. “I don’t believe you.”

Mia reached down and brushed the dirt away. What did the woman want her to say? Some sort of confession or accusation? Mia would not accuse anyone, not for Bastion, and not for this strange woman.

“Thank you for the night’s shelter,” Mia said, standing. Mia walked to Alma and whispered in her ear, wiggling her hands underneath the sleeping child to lift her. Mia did not acknowledge the surprised expression Hilda wore.

“You really know nothing? And you would walk through the forest, without any protection, for what, you said? Your daughter? She’ll get eaten.”

Mia removed her hands from underneath Alma, who stirred and woke with the interruption.

“You do not want to give me help,” Mia said. “You are no different than any other woman I know.”

“It’s remarkable,” the woman said, moving to sit on the pallet Mia had slept on.

Mia closed her eyes and shook her head before answering. “What is remarkable?”

“That you ran straight to me, that I was out collecting toadstools at that very moment, that I saved you. We must think of what it means.”

Mia frowned. “Do I owe you money? Is that why you tell me to leave and then tease me into lingering and asking questions? Do you want to be paid?”

The woman gasped and kicked more dirt at Mia, as if punishing her, or pushing her to reveal something more.

“Stop doing that!” Mia said.

The woman sneered. “You are not what they say.”

“Why are you teasing me? Do you want me to stay? Or do you want accusations? I won’t give you names.”

The woman’s face grew dark and angry. “I do not want names. I know their names. And I know that many of them will die.”

“If some women have become witches and consorted with the Devil, how is that my burden? Let each pay for her own sins.”

“Do you believe that? Each one of us must pay for our own sins? Our own sins and not the sins of another?”

The door stood only a few paces away, if she could get past the woman. Hilda could not be trusted. She was not even a Christian woman. She would only lead Mia deeper into deception and danger.

“I know more about you than you know,” Mia said. “You are a witch, a forbidden healer. All the women know about you. We see you in town, buying herbs, scowling at Father Stefan. If Bastion knew of you, where you lived, he would burn you on the spot.” Mia hoped the woman did not miss the threat in her words.

Hilda laughed and patted her knee. She had no reaction other than amusement. Mia must have made a poor enemy. “Come and sit with me.”

“No, I will not. If you consort with the Devil, then you are no good Christian woman.”

“You are the one who consorts with the Devil.”

Mia gasped.

Hilda grinned as her eyes narrowed. “I have heard stories of you, Mia, an innocent who married Bjorn without thinking, without caution. Rose tried to befriend you, to help you see who he was, but that ended so soon, didn’t it? Yes, I have heard the stories.”

Mia could not let Hilda sense the dread building in her heart. What Hilda said might be true. And Mia had made it all possible for Bjorn.

“You speak nonsense.”

Hilda crossed the floor in three fast steps. “Do you wonder where Bjorn goes at night? Do you wonder why women are cold to you? Can you not see fear on their faces?”

“Can you not speak plainly?”

“I want you to say the words to yourself first. They should not come from me.”

Mia laid her hands on Hilda’s shoulders. “Whatever it is, say it.”

“No.”

“Then I will leave.”

“There is a monster in your village—a man who creeps round at night, finding women alone. He does terrible things. He holds all power. They do not resist. But they hate.”

“If you accuse Bjorn …”

“He has never been able to find me. He would like to, for he knows that I am a refuge for the women. When they come to me, I give them medicines for pain, for sorrows, and to make sure he does not give them a child. I cannot give them justice. I give them a chance for survival.”

“Nothing you say is true.” Mia grabbed Alma and rushed her out the door. Rain spattered the ground. Thunder roared overhead. Mia did not know where to find the path.

Hilda came up behind her.

“Tell me, did you get your pearls back? They were given away to shut a woman’s mouth. Bastion returned them, yes? And you rewarded him well?”

Mia stopped and turned to face her. Raindrops pelted her cheeks.

“Who told you of my pearls? What do you know of Bastion and me?”

“Women are talking about you, Mia. You are not imagining that. They wonder how much you know. They wonder why Bastion prefers you. What shall I tell them?”

“Tell them I was ashamed to be rescued by a witch who spews lies.”

“I have not rescued you. It is far too late for that.”

Hilda turned and went back inside. Mia tried to find a path and be free of this place, but the rain came faster. Not much light fell to the bottom of the forest on good days; now none made it down. Mia felt along the trees, with Alma clinging to her skirts, trying to push through the narrow openings between the slender firs, trying to make sense of the forest. She looked in every direction and saw no hope. Worse, Alma was getting soaked. Mia tried to pick her up, but her arms ached so badly she couldn’t. Alma shivered, cold and wet.

Mia beat her fists against a tree. “Where is the path?”

Hilda opened the door to her home. Mia could see the light and Hilda’s thin, bent body standing in the doorway. Hilda could keep Alma dry. Mia did not have to listen.

Mia led Alma through the trees, trying to keep a hand over the child’s head to shield her from more rain. Through the door they came, and Hilda shut the door behind them.

“Can you shelter us until it stops raining?”

“You are a good woman, Mia, but you cannot be trusted. This is what I will tell the women. It is what they suspected.”

“What would you have me do? Ask my husband? What would he tell me?”

“You believe he is innocent?”

“He might be bewitched.”

“Well, now, with that, I can help you. But only if you are willing to know the truth. Not everyone thinks you are. Only Dame Alice thinks you are an innocent. She tried so hard to help you. But you do not want help, or friendship, or even the truth.”

“They’re wrong.”

“Then I will give you a serum that breaks all spells and charms. Once a man has drunk it, he will be set free, never to be bewitched again. All the evil he has done will be finished. If you want the truth about Bjorn, if you truly believe he has been bewitched, then give him the serum.”

“I should not test him. It is not God’s will that we test our husbands.”

“Leave God out of this. With this potion, you can set Bjorn free of all lusts and ungodly desires. If he has been bewitched, as you say, it is the right thing to do. Prove to us you are a good wife.”

“What if he has not been bewitched? What will drinking the potion do?”

“Do? It can do nothing. It’s only a counterspell, powerless if there is no spell to break.”

Hilda fetched a small vial of opaque green glass, holding it between two fingers, dangling it at Mia. “What shall I tell the women? Do you want the truth?”