“Open your hand,” she orders.
I obey. The she-wolf drops the bone into my hand. It’s the same as before. Maybe she truly is mad. Just a crazy lady who lives in the woods while scamming believers. I’m not sure this is even worth my tim?—
“Au!”
The bone heats up in my hand without warning. In an instant it becomes a glowing ember. I drop it on the ground and it loses its glow. How could it get so hot without burning up? The palm of my hand has a mark, a light burn. Luckily, I wasn’t holding it firmly.
I look up at Ylvin, wide-eyed. She’s the real deal. A true Volva.
“But, how did you?—”
“Pick it up.”
The bone is sitting on the ground. It seems harmless enough. Every instinct tells me to leave it alone. Only a stupid child touches a flame again after getting burned.
“Pick it up,” snarls Ylvin.
I’m not about to argue. Closing my eyes tight, bracing for pain, I poke it with a finger. It’s fine. Just a piece of bone. I place it back in my palm.
“How did you do that?”
The bone vibrates slightly before lying still.
“Don’t drop it now,” says Ylvin.
My palm cools off, like I’m holding ice. A shiver runs up my arm. Confused by what is happening, I throw Ylvin a glance. She bears a sly smile—the smugness of a master showing off.
The bone is freezing now. I can barely feel my hand. Flexing my fingers, they are rigid, like I’ve been in the snow too long. Holding the bone becomes harder and harder. My palm is so cold it actually feels like heat.
I drop it.
“Amazing,” I say, unable to hide the awe in my voice.
“The simplest enchantment.”
“But how could you change it from hot to cold?”
“Hot and cold are the same thing, just on different sides of a rainbow. Like stopping and going. Seeing and blindness. Light and dark. You understand.”
“But how did you change it?”
“This object is bound to my will now.”
“So you can just… burn anything?”
She howls in laughter.
“I like how your mind works, Kilda. Straight to burning down the farmstead that enslaved you. Glorious revenge. Love it.”
I laugh with her. Not quite what I meant, but now that she mentions it…
“Groa never showed me this.”
Ylvin laughs.
“Many Volvas only manage to scratch the surface of possibility, if they have the gift. Most Volvas, I’m afraid, make shit up as they go along.”
“Can I keep it?” I ask.
