“Of course not, because you have no education. I presume you cannot read or even write your name. No? Of course not. So let us go over your tale of ‘witchcraft’ again. Let us see if there is another hypothesis we might consider.”
“I don’t know…” Élisabeth saw the bottled fury in Jeanne Roy’s eyes andstopped. If the witch wanted her to start from the beginning, then so be it. She would have to explain herself more clearly.
“We lay together for many months. I told Rémy I was with child after I felt the quickening. He said he would tell his parents—”
“Stop. A question. Was he pleased to hear you were carrying his child?”
“Yes, of course he was.” Élisabeth thought back to the moment she had felt the baby flutter inside of her and had run to tell Rémy that what they had suspected was for certain. He was not in the house, and the old cook grumbled he was more likely than not in the tavern. Élisabeth had found him in his usual place by the window, a tankard of cider before him. He was laughing with the innkeeper’s daughter. The girl was wiping the table in such a way that made her breasts jiggle. But nothing the pock-faced barmaid could flash at Rémy mattered now that Élisabeth was with child—she had won. She had whispered her news into his ear, letting her lips graze his lobe, and had pulled back, ablaze with triumph. He had smiled, slowly.
“It was his idea that we should lay together. He said, ‘I will tell my parents’ and then ‘we will be married before you start to show.’ So yes, he was very pleased.”
“Anddidhe tell his parents?”
Élisabeth faltered. “He did not have time to speak to them before… before the witch cursed me. I… I was not at that moment staying at the Rémy household because my father had taken a turn for the worse. I was at home, helping Marthe care for him. Before too long Rémy knocked at our door and said he wanted to step out with me to celebrate.”
“How long after you had told him did this occur?”
“I don’t know… It was February. A fortnight? Not more.”
“Thus he had known for two weeks about your condition and had not told his parents. Continue.”
Élisabeth swallowed, the demon twisting furiously in her gut. “We sat down, we called for our drinks, the witch came in. It was as I said.”
“What did you eat before your miscarriage?”
“Nothing. Food had not been sitting easily in my stomach, as is normal before the quickening. We drank wine, too sour for my liking, but Rémy said it would do me good. The witch came in soon after.”
“I see.”
“You may think me a fool to drink to my own success before it was assured, but at that moment I believed myself to be the winner of a prize beyond all imagination, to be marrying my true love. Then I saw a movement at the window. A telltale sign of a witch. A shadow, something you see out of the corner of your eye, then when you look there’s nothing but a creeping feeling up your spine.”
“That is why you believe the woman was a witch? That you didn’t turn your head in time to see her through a window?”
Élisabeth forced herself not to scowl. She had not said it right. Jeanne Roy made it sound ridiculous, but Rémy had been definite. “Rémy told me she was a witch.”
“And did you believe everything your lover told you? Or did you gather any proof of this woman’s ability to perform magic?” Jeanne Roy’s tone was so biting that Élisabeth wanted to scream, but she knew if she did, that would be the end of her chance of a cure. Still, she raised her chin as she continued.
“I had a feeling when I saw her. The tavern door opened and a gust of cold wind rushed into the room. There was the Winter Witch, the one Papa had always warned us about. The one who feasts on infants and has long sought to do our village harm. She noticed me and fixed her eyes on me with a… with a fiendish expression. I remember she had a witch’s mark on her cheek, under her eye. She lifted her finger, and it was gnarled and bony with a long, black nail.”
“You could see her fingernails from where you were sitting?”
Élisabeth ignored the question. “?‘’Twas for you,’ the Winter Witch called out, pointing at me, and Rémy jumped into the air with fright. He understood right away what was happening. He rushed at the old witch and pushed herout the door. I could hear the hag screech as he did so, like glass shattering on a flagstone, loud and sharp. Then I saw Rémy fling a silver coin at her, as you are supposed to do to keep the curse from sticking. He came back to me and told me not to mind a thing, he would take care of me, and he wrapped my cloak around my shoulders, and told me to finish my drink. He was very tender, very caring, and he said he would take me out the back so that the witch could not lay her eyes on me again. I was terrified to see Rémy so affected, so I made him tell me who the woman was. He said he didn’t want to frighten me further, but I insisted. He started to weep as he told me the truth. That she was the Winter Witch.”
Jeanne Roy formed a steeple with her index fingers and tapped it against her frowning mouth. The slow, deliberate movement looked like she was casting a spell.
“And did Rémy explain how she came to pick on you of all people?”
“She lays curses on beautiful girls because she is jealous of their youth and wants it for herself. Rémy said that she wanted me because I am quite pretty…” Élisabeth paused, aware of sounding boastful. “But do not think me so vain as to believe that. I have since wondered if it wasn’t Madame Delaunay who caused the witch to come for me. She was always suspicious of her son’s affection for me. I believe it was she who encouraged the cook to keep us apart. Old Geneviève was forever telling me to stay away from Rémy.”
“And what happened to the woman after she was pushed out the door?” Jeanne Roy’s voice was tight, as if she could not breathe. “You said your lover could not find her?”
“No. She was gone with the frost in the morning. It’s what she’s done for a hundred years, and she could go on like that for a hundred more. Until she is killed, I can never, ever bear children. I had thought I could lift the curse by coming to Ville-Marie, but I was wrong. I can never bear children, unless you, Jeanne, can break the curse.”
“Me? What part do I play in this fantasy?”
A spark escaped from a crackling log, falling at their feet. The witch snuffed the cinder out with her heel. Élisabeth took a deep breath to force the keening demon down. She sank to her knees, her hands clasped together.
“I know you are a far more powerful and accomplished sorceress than the Winter Witch of Saint-Philbert. I saw what you did when the ship was in danger of sinking. And you magicked my letter of good conduct out of my hand! I’ve seen you swim like a mermaid in the sea. Please, for pity’s sake, you must have a spell that can counter the curse that afflicts me.”
