Page 24 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” A lot of magic had been directed at her lately, and she didn’t know enough about it to understand what kind of consequences it wrought. Though Majo had often vehemently denied it, she knew the woman practiced the forbidden art. Vallen had told her so.

It was time to pay the witch another visit.

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Shumei had two days left until she saw Vallen again. Each day she’d been busy with spring planting, and now that she was the only one working the field, wanting to spare Oka the worst of the backbreaking labor, she had to use every second of sunlight she could spare to finish planting.

She hadn’t had time to visit Majo and ask the questions that had been blaring inside her head after the incident with Akiji, whom she hadn’t seen since, but no one had come to her door with accusations. Though she didn’t know what to think, she knew what that shove had looked like. Magic. Which meant Akiji was keeping her secret for now.

Thankfully, she had caught up on planting and had kept the weeds to a minimum. Oka had repeatedly tried to help her, but he had neither the knowledge of what was a new seedling versus a weed nor the stamina to remain bent much of the day, and she wanted him to relax until at least the harvest next year.

Seeing a couple of hours were left to burn until sunset, she decided to give herself a break and leave early. She could wash at the river and meet with Majo before coming home and helping Oka with dinner. Wiping her hands as she stood, she looked across the field at Oka, who was trying his best to walk around on his hands.

“Oka?” she called before picking up the cloth she had been kneeling on. Her brother clumsily flopped to one side, his little legs flying, and his head popped up from behind a row of comfrey, used for wounds both big and small to speed up healing and leave less scarring. She carefully stepped over rows of plants toward the path home. “Let’s go home a little early today.”

Oka was instantly up and jogging around the edge of the field to catch up to her. She held his hand as they walked home, and he apprised her of all the tumbling he’d done as well as an interesting bug he’d found.

Having asked Oka to clean and prepare their only pot for dinner, she left him at their hut and made her way to the river for a much-needed bath. Then as she was dressing, having washed away the day’s labors, she couldn’t help but stroke the material of her dress, still incredibly grateful to have it, though she would never say that to the demon who had given it to her. After combing her hair, she walked back to the village and headed in the direction of the witch’s home.

However, the closer she drew to Majo’s hut, the more fretful she became, and as the hut came into view, she found her feet slowing to a stop until she stood a few feet from the door, fidgeting with the sleeve of her dress and wondering if this visit was a good idea. The last time she had entered the witch’s hut, she had left tipsy and groped.

Gathering her courage, she strode forward and raised her hand to knock. But before she could make contact with the door, it swung inward, revealing a smiling Majo in yet another of her revealing dresses. This one was white and embroidered with a rosebush heavy with new buds. The witch’s gaze darted to Shumei’s chest for half a heartbeat, long enough to make her blush.

“Why, Shumei! It’s a delight to see you here without your delivery bag. Come in, come in,” she invited, oozing kindness, though now it didn’t seem nearly as sincere as before. She asked Shumei to leave her shoes near the door, and ushered to her usual seat on the thick, comfortable sleeping mat.

“Would you care for some tea, dear?” she asked, elegantly gesturing at a kettle sitting by the fire.

“No, thank you, madam,” she demurred.

“Suit yourself.” Majo smiled before sitting on her cushion. “Now then, what brings you to my home today?” She leaned forward, supposedly out of curiosity, but Shumei suspected she did it because it made her chest swell dangerously close to falling out of her dress.

Shumei looked into the witch’s dark, twinkling eyes. “Please, madam, answer me truthfully. Do you know anything about magic and its secrets?”

The witch sat straighter. Her smile now had an edge to it. “Because you’re a crow I shall answer you truthfully. I do have knowledge about magic. Why do you ask?”

“Something strange happened the other day. I think I did it.” Her story came out haltingly as she tried to express what she’d experienced in actual words. The witch’s face revealed little the entire time, though her eyes did widen when she came to the part about shoving Akiji.

“How I envy you,” Majo said, breathy. Shumei blinked in confusion. “What you and I have is intrinsic magic, my dear. Those with black hair have the potential to possess it. Not all crows are so blessed, though. Only some carry the warm weight of magic inside.”

“W-Wait, are you saying I’m a magic-user?” Shumei asked, mind reeling. She braced her hand on the bedroll beneath her as she swayed in shock. She had thought perhaps what had happened was a side effect of Vallen’s magic when he’d cast the binding upon her, but apparently not.

“One of the few, dear. Your power likely rivals my own.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

Majo shrugged. “Your magic hadn’t manifested. Only a few things awaken it in a crow. A demon or another magic-user casting a spell on you, for instance. Then there’s a serious illness, a traumatic experience, and sometimes sex. I suspect the loss of your mother was the trigger in your case.”

Shumei rather suspected the other triggers had helped. Not only had Vallen made love to her on a couple of recent occasions, but he had also placed the binding upon her, and though she hadn’t experienced any symptoms of the Burning, she had been periodically nauseous earlier in the week.

Her mind tripped over itself stringing together dozens of questions, the most haunting of which was whether or not the village would execute her should they ever discover her ability.

“How do I keep it from coming out?” she asked, looking beseechingly at the witch. Choosing to be a magic-user and getting yourself executed was one thing, but being a magic-user by birth and not knowing how to hide it was another.

“For someone like you with no training, the best way to keep it calm is by controlling your emotions. You’re actually rather good at that. With Akiji, however, you had no other recourse.”

Though she had meant them to be comforting, Majo’s words didn’t make Shumei feel any better. She didn’t have much confidence in her ability to mask her feelings anymore. The village leaders, Majo, Akiji, and Vallen had all proven quite capable of cracking her shell lately. Ever since the damned Burning…

“Why? Why do I have this?” she whispered, hands fisted on her thighs. “Does that mean crows truly are evil?”