b
I could not bear to be under the same roof as the Witch after our fight so I went to the forest immediately, following the path to the village. I needed to feel the sting of winter air in my lungs and the ache of my thighs. I felt so confused. I had thought myself loyal to the Witch but my reward had been her anger. I did not understand what I had done wrong, and I did not understand the way I lost control around her. I had not meant to say the things I had but I could not deny the truth in them. She could solve Frieda’s pain with a few words and yet she would not. Just as she would not ease my uncertainty. She guarded her secrets precious above all else and I resented it.
My feet had brought me to the village as the sun reached the treetops. A path had been cleared in the snow between the houses, and I found myself outside the inn. The shutters were open and inside I could see clusters of drinkers around the broad fireplace.
And Frieda.
She sat at a table, head in her hands and an untouched drink at her elbow.
I hesitated. Had I meant to come to her? Perhaps my feet had known what my mind would not admit: I needed to talk to her. I knew that engaging with Frieda would only make things more complicated, but I could not let her leave without speaking to her once more.
I went inside and sat down opposite, acutely aware of eyes around the room watching me. It was stuffy and, unlike when I’d first arrived with the Witch, populated by a few silent drinkers. Still, a ring of empty space opened up around us. Here, as in Blumwald, the taint of the Witch marked me out.
‘Why did you have to come to us?’ said Frieda, not raising her head. ‘We were not happy before, but we survived.’
Now I was here I did not know what I wanted from Frieda. Absolution? Answers? Beneath the table I picked at the skin around my nails.
‘Please, just go,’ I said eventually. ‘There’s nothing to find out. Trust me.’
I should know. I had been here for months and failed to learn anything meaningful about this place or my role as the Witch’s companion.
‘Why should I trust you?’ Frieda dismissed me.
I had no answer.
I had not taken off my cloak when I sat down and now I was sweating beneath the heavy wool. ‘How can this possibly help, coming here? It cannot bring your brother back.’
‘Dead or not, he is my brother. I owe it to him.Someof us care about our families.’
She could not know how well her blow landed. I thought of my father putting up no fight when I bound myself to the Witch, urging me away. None of them would come searching for me. None of them would cry over my fate for years. No, they were planning weddings and railways. They had moved on.
When Frieda looked up, her eyes were bloodshot, the creases around sunk deep. ‘Help me. You are her next companion. Surely you of all people want the truth out of her?’
I looked at my hands. I did. And I didn’t.
‘I can’t.’
‘You are scared of her.’
‘No.’
‘You cannot trulywantto stay here.’
Only a few hours ago I had been happily with the Witch, sharing our small, comfortable life together.
Couldn’t I want to stay?
I felt the pull of her like a tug at my navel. Just because we had fought didn’t mean I would betray her to Frieda.
‘I am so sorry,’ I said. ‘I shouldn’t have brought Edgar’s letter. I thought I was doing the right thing.’
Anger washed over Frieda’s face once more.
‘Theright thingis for the Witch to be done away with. How long will Blumwald sit at her mercy, how long will we feed her our sons – and for what? I know I should bow and scrape to you, the duke’s daughter, but what good will his railway and this new German Empire be if we still live at her mercy?’
My own anger met hers. What did she truly know of my Witch?
‘Did you ever think she might truly want a companion? It is a lonely life she lives.’
