Once the fire blazed, he fed the flames with Basia’s body.
For a few moments, I watched, entranced. Eventually, I said, “You need to say the prayer.”
His eyebrows jumped to his hairline. “Why me?”
“Because I’m not going anywhere until you do.” I took a seat on a nearby tree stump. “Go on.”
He released a sigh of long suffering and muttered something that sounded like, “Damnable woman.”
Keeping my eyes trained on the witch-shaped quilt engulfed in flames, I listened as Filip spoke the sacred words to grant her soul safe passage to Yvora. The same prayer that had been said only two days ago at Lord Hywell’s Ceremony of Rites.
Once he was finished, I nodded at him. Now we could leave. The late afternoon sun was dimming, and I didn’t particularly want to be out in the woods at night.
“Come on then,” he said, understanding my unspoken confirmation.
Wordlessly, I followed him into the trees and up the mound. It wasn’t until we were back amongst the thick canopy that Filip spoke. “Why did you insist upon saying the prayers for the witch? She was a stranger to you. Her body was burning—we could have left it at that.”
I bit my lip, contemplating. “I’d like to think that if I died all alone someone would do me the honor of performing my Rites. Even if they were strangers.” He looked at me as if I was a puzzle he couldn’t make sense of. I quickly added, “And they say it’s bad luck not to honor the dead.”
We continued on in silence. Though we’d left the cottagebehind, images from Basia’s bedchamber followed me through the forest. I tried to wrestle them out of my mind; when that didn’t work, I forced myself to think of something else.
The notebook. I put my hand in my pocket and ran my thumb along the jagged outline of its engravings. The magic hummed in response, like a cat purring under the caress of a loving hand. It was an incredibly bizarre experience—I had never been able to feel magic emanating from an object before. Was the power of this notebook so potent that it called to magical beings?
It couldn’t be all that special if the murderer left it behind. Which posed the question: what was so valuable that it was worth slaying a witch for? Something in the missing jars and vials?
Filip went motionless.
“Shh,” he whispered, barely moving his lips. “I hear something.”
I strained my ears but, even with my hearing abilities, I couldn’t make out any unusual sounds. Not at first.
But then, a howl rippled through the air, curdling my blood.
“The hounds from the hunting party?” I suggested, although the unease rattling in my gut told me I was wrong.
He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like any hound I’ve ever heard. Come on, let’s keep moving.” He unsheathed his swords and continued through the trees, moving with more urgency than before.
I wasn’t about to argue with that. Even though my blistering feet still ached, I forced myself to keep pace with him. It was much darker in this part of the woods, and I didn’t see the root at my feet until I was on all fours.
“You alright?” Filip asked, holding out a hand. It was astonishing to see concern in his eyes. Perhaps he despised me a little less than before.
“I’m fine.” My right hand was stinging and bleeding. My pride had definitely been bruised, but my body shouted at me toget up and move.
Filip was helping me to my feet when we heard another howl. This time it was much closer. It sounded as if it was coming from the trees behind us.
My pulse pounded and my heart thrashed. We exchanged worried glances. Without letting go of my hand, Filip pulled me forwards in an almost-jog.
“Can you run?” His voice was low but urgent.
I was just about to tell himyeswhen we came to a halt. The ice in my veins froze my muscles and glazed my skin in a cold sweat.
Waiting beneath a tree stood death given flesh.
Chapter 33
The creature was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It had the body of a giant black dog, but its face was monstrous.
It was covered in fur yet, somehow, it looked skeletal, with a protruding skull and hollows in the nose where the nostrils should be. It had overlarge red gums, revealing jagged fangs that reminded me of a shark’s teeth. But the most horrific thing was the creature’s unnatural eyes. Its pupils were black pearls, its irises the watery red of blood spilled in the ocean. They were positioned so far apart that they almost rested on the sides of its head, giving it the appearance of insanity personified.
