Page 58

With a mixture of hope and dread, I turn the page.

Twenty-Four

Magdalena

7 July 1895

I am ruined. Ruined!

Everything has gone terribly wrong. My hands will not stop shaking. I cower at every sound. He will come for me at any moment—

How could this have happened? We had a plan.

I knew she could not be trusted. If only I had stopped her at the start—

And Ana, what will become of her?

Dear God, forgive me.

Let this be my confession. No, my testimony. For I did nothing wrong.

I arrived at Lavender House yesterday at ten as we planned. The night was still and clear, the full moon shining like a beacon over the house. A perfect summer’s evening, though a sense of foreboding weighed over me like a veil.

Nikola answered the back door when I arrived. His father had gone to the kavana, as he said he would. But panic vibrated in Nikola’s eyes. “Come quickly,” he said. “I fear she will not survive the night.”

And so I hurried to gather coal from the hearth, then up to Ana’s bedroom. She looked terrible, reminding me of the skull I had seen in the mirror. For a moment, I thought she was already dead, that I was a minute too late. But then I caught the faintest rise of her chest. The stench was overwhelming, far worse than before, nearly unbearable. A fresh bouquet of lavender sat by her bed, but its fragrance was powerless against the scent of death creeping in. Shadows thickened around the room despite the glow of the oil lamps. I could sense the Devil lurking in the darkness, waiting to pounce.

This is where things went wrong. I had completely forgotten about Antula. As I was setting up my tools on the nightstand, she let out a little gasp when she saw the knife I’d brought. The one I needed for cutting the Evil Eye’s bond. I quickly covered it with my shawl, but the damage was done. She hastened from the room, and I asked Nikola what she knew about the exorcism.

He said that he told her I was only there to conduct another massage. When I said she had seen my knife, he thought a moment, then said he would check on her. He returned a few minutes later, saying that she was resting in her room. There was nothing to worry about concerning her.

That was my downfall. I should have done something. Checked on her myself. Explained the exorcism, perhaps. But Nikola trusted Antula. And so I did too.

Before we began, I explained again what I would do. Summon the Evil Eye, cut the threads, give Ana the holy water to drink. I emphasized how important this last step was, that it must be done quickly, for her body would be weak, on the brink of death, without the Devil’s power sustaining her.

I suggested we tie Ana’s limbs to the bedposts. Nikola was hesitant, but I reminded him how Ana had attacked me the last time I’d summoned the Evil Eye’s presence. “We can’t risk anything going wrong,” I said. He then reluctantly agreed. Ana tossed a little as we bound her, but she remained asleep.

I then recited the incantation from your book:

O Lord and Blessed Virgin Mother,

I call upon you for aid. Please lend me your strength.

What is without name, may it be gone, what is without name, may it disappear.

As I dropped each piece of coal into the bowl, the holy water hissed angrily. Black threads appeared like before, floating above Ana’s body, culminating into the glowing yellow eye. But I did not meet its gaze like before. Instead, I started cutting. The threads were tougher than they seemed, but with some vigor they tore apart.

Ana began fidgeting, writhing on the bed. “What are you doing?” she moaned. When her eyes snapped open, they shone an eerie yellow, the irises sharp and black like a wolf’s. “Why are you hurting me?” she moaned again. Something was wrong with her voice. It was deeper, raspier, like a growl.

“Don’t listen to her,” I said to Nikola. “It is the Evil Eye, the Devil. It wants us to stop.”

But Nikola’s face was anguished. “She is in distress,” he said.

As I cut another thread, Ana kept moaning and tossing, straining at her binds. Her cries became more desperate. “Untie me,” she kept saying in her too-deep voice, rattling the bed. She was strong—too strong for her state. It was all very unnerving and unnatural. I feared Antula would hear.

I cut thread after thread, ignoring Ana’s pleas and the burning glare of the eye above her. But in my haste to finish, I didn’t notice Nikola unbinding one of her wrists—not until it was too late.

Ana swung out at me, knocking the knife from my hand. I dived to pick it up, shouting at Nikola to grab her. But he was frozen in panic. As Ana reached over to untie her other arm, I flung myself onto the bed to pin her down. I was so close. Just one more thread!