Fayre
Автор
Nicole Riddley
Прочтений
2,2M
Глав
63
Prologue
EIGHT YEARS AGO
The moon is tucked away behind a heavy, dark cloud. The stars are missing in action. The wind is starting to pick up.
A man assists a woman, dressed to the nines, and a little girl out of a sleek black town car. He guides them toward a gloomy building where the flickering light of candles can be seen through the windows.
A bell chimes as the man nudges the door open.
“No! No! I don’t want that creature in here. Get it out! Get it out of here!” a woman inside the building hollers as soon as the trio steps into the light. Her dark eyes are fixed on the child.
She’s clutching a dagger. The sharp point glimmers eerily in the candlelight. Her long, dark curls whip around her like live snakes. Fear cloaks her like a shroud.
The woman who just entered pulls the little girl protectively closer to her, and the man’s face flushes with anger. He strides deeper into the room and grabs the woman with the dagger by her upper arm.
“Nadine, get a grip. You promised to do this!” His thick fingers dig into her skin.
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want it here. I don’t want it anywhere near me,” Nadine cries out.
The man lowers his voice and mutters in her ear, “She’s paying us a lot of money—”
Another woman cuts him off. “This is a bad idea, Samuel. You told me she’s a witch, not a lunatic! The woman is clearly unhinged! She’s not getting anywhere near my child.”
She’s inching toward the door. Her hands are clamped on the little girl’s shoulders.
“Victoria, wait! She can do this. She can help you. Just let me talk to her,” Samuel pleads urgently. His balding head is slick with sweat, and his shoulders are stiff. His entire body is on edge.
“You promised!” he turns back to Nadine, the woman with the dagger, his voice harsh.
“I can’t!” Nadine whimpers. “Look at her. I can’t do this.”
“We need the money, Nadine. You remember that.”
The witch closes her eyes. Her shoulders slump. “She’s not a creature of this world. She doesn’t belong here…” she whispers in defeat. Her lower lip trembles.
“It doesn’t matter. You did promise to do this,” Samuel argues, his voice softening as he senses her giving in.
The woman takes a deep breath then slowly opens her eyes. This time, she directs her gaze toward Victoria.
“You’re obsessed with her, can’t you see that? These creatures are dangerous. They’re nothing but evil. They’re cunning, devious, and tricky. Get rid of her before she destroys you.”
Victoria’s face hardens. “She’s my baby. My child. She’s mischievous and a handful, but she’s not evil.
“And I’m not here for your unsolicited advice. I’m here to pay you a lot of money for your services and your silence.”
The witch’s eyes grow cold, and a look of resolve enters her face as she stares at the child. The little girl is captivating. Her long, shiny, icy-blonde hair flows down her back like a waterfall.
Her small, slightly pointy ears peeking out from her hair reveal her nature. She has an extremely delicate and inhumanly beautiful angular face with flawless porcelain skin, a small, straight nose, and plump red lips.
Her big, brilliant green eyes, the color of forest leaves and framed by thick, long, dark-golden eyelashes, are cautious as they scan the room before they land back on the witch.
“How old is she?” the witch asks.
“We think she’s eight. She was about three when we got her.”
“Very well. Bring her to the middle of the room and stand back,” the witch instructs, her jaw set as she slowly moves around the room, keeping the dagger close.
Her fearful eyes are constantly on the child as she moves around the cluttered little space filled with books, jars of curious plants and preserves, candles of different sizes and colors, and other knickknacks.
She gathers a few items from the various jars on the shelves and places them in a bowl: the root of elfdock plant, licorice, monkshood, hyssop, and a few other curious items.
The child’s distrustful but curious gaze follows her every movement. They widen in horror when the woman’s hand wraps around a long iron chain.
“No, no, no! Mommy, please help me. Please, Mommy, no,” the girl suddenly cries, shaking her head.
She tries to run but the witch is quick in casting the iron in front of her, chanting, “Trin lánce hin mánge, me pçándáv tute.”
The iron chain moves like a serpent, forming a circle around the little girl.
“Káthe tu besá! Káthe tu besá! Ná ává kiyá mánge!”
“Mommy! Mommy! Help me!” Her cries grow desperate. “It’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt so bad… Mommy, please!”
“Make her forget. Make her forget everything,” Victoria says over the little girl’s pleas and cries. “Make her normal…make her human.”
“She’s not human. I can’t make her human,” the witch says sternly.
“I want my perfect child,” Victoria says.
The witch’s face shows her annoyance. “You want her tamed and obedient to you? You know she’s not tamed and obedient by nature.”
Her voice grows lower and sounds sinister as she continues, “And she’s going back to where she came from one day. They’re coming for her.”
Victoria’s face turns pale, and tears well in her eyes. “Then you make sure she’s not going anywhere.”
Her voice wavers, then steadies. “Keep them from her. Make sure they can’t reach her,” she insists.
The witch raises an eyebrow. “You understand there’s a steep cost when you mess with the natural order of things, right?”
“I don’t give a damn about the cost! Just do it. I’ll pay you more, a whole lot more…if you can just make her stay, make her human. My perfect little girl.”
They’re not on the same page, but the witch nods anyway.
“Mommy! I promise I’ll be good. Mommy! It hurts…please!” the little girl begs.
“Hush now… You’re okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay. Trust Mommy. Shh…”
