Jealous Heart

“I will be back in a few hours,” Severian said. “Be a good girl and stay put.”

“Have a nice trip,” Mira said, anger flashing in her eyes.

He did not care about that. Instead, he locked the door of the hut behind him. Mira saw his figure moving through the small window in the door, his footsteps disappearing in the distance. According to the direction he was going, he was probably planning to disappear in the forest, practicing his spells.

Every time the warlock had to run some errand or practice magic, and he didn’t need her, he would lock her in a root cellar near his hut. He probably didn’t have a space to lock her in his hut and didn’t want to use magic to hold her down. So, she ended up in a cellar like a bag of potatoes.

The first time he did that, she was furious. Now, she was only pretending to be angry.

Mira waited for a while. Once she couldn’t hear him anymore, the tension in her body released.

While she was locked up and had nothing to do, she was thinking about how to escape from him. She didn’t want to kill him or use the corrupted magic.

She already had a bag of clothes and food hidden under the bed where she used to sleep. She was even able to find out which old woman gave him that numbing potion while he was inscribing spells onto her body. She received a small linen pack of dried herbs. Drink one tea made out of them and you will be unable to move.

She already mixed it with his teas. He will return and surely drink a cup before going to bed. He always used to drink tea in the evening. Then she will wait until he won't be able to control his body, and she will bolt. She just needed to be patient and behave as usual, so he won't notice something is amiss.

She still didn’t know what she would do after running away from him, but she knew she didn’t want to die because of him. He will be slowly cutting down her lifespan through the spells. In a few years, months even, her hair also will be silver, and she will be withering away, slowly.

Sudden footsteps echoed in the yard, catching her attention. She peeked through the window in the door and realized the warlock was back. He was now scurrying to the root cellar, unlocking the door.

“That was quick today,” Mira said. “Did you forget something?”

“Go back to the house. Quickly!”

Seeing his concerned face, Mira dropped the jokes. “What is happening?” she asked.

“Villagers are going here.”

“Why?”

“How should I know?”

They both returned to the hut, Severian closing the doors behind them. While Mira was contemplating whether this was the right time to run away, he was quickly taking some trinkets, which could be considered strange, and hiding them in the cupboard. Seeing that, Mira felt her stomach turn. He was afraid.

She stepped into the window of the hut and saw that there were a couple of villagers walking up the hill. In between them, she could clearly see a priest coming. Did the old lady who sold her the herbs tell on her to the priest? But why to the priest?

“Whatever they will ask of you, just do not say something suspicious,” Severian said to her.

She turned to him. “Is this a witch hunt?”

“I… don’t know.”

Mira sat down on the bed, clasping her hands. Should she pretend she is praying? That would surely make her seem innocent, right?

They waited until the footsteps of villagers did not echo in their yard, followed by loud banging on the door. Severian stepped in to open.

“Good eve,” he said to them. “How can I help you?”

One of the brave villagers moved forward. “Someone accused you of using witchcraft.”

Mira bit her lips. He surely does not waste any time.

“So you hear them. Let us inspect your house,” chimmed in the priest.

Severian stepped aside, letting them inside. They all pushed in, but stopped in their tracks, surprised to see a woman on the bed.

Mira looked at them, smiling. “I wish you a good eve,” she said.

“Pray, who is this woman?” the priest asked.

“This is my wife, Mira,” Severian said.

They were all looking at her as if she were the goddess herself. Some of them even rubbed their eyes to make sure there really is a woman in this hut.

“He married someone?”

“Someone allowed their daughter to wed him?” they all whispered.

“May I ask, what is this ruckus?” Mira asked. “We were just in the middle of our evening prayer.”

Another murmur. A proper and religious wife, what a surprise!

The priest was not swayed. He turned to Severian. “Pray, tell me, Severian, how did you wed this woman, when I do not recall joining you two together before the eyes of God in my church?”

Mira could feel sweat forming on her temples.

“Mira is not from Lindenod. We wed in her village,” the warlock said.

Well, at least he prepared some kind of backstory.

“May I ask what the native village of your wife is?” the priest pushed, turning to Mira.

“I…” Severian hesitated.

Shit.

“Lord Priest, why are we discussing his marriage?” one of the villagers asked. “Did we not come here to do the inspection? Let us go through his things.”

They were all now squeezed inside. The hut was small, and it did not help that there were now a dozen people inside, walking around, looking at the things on the table, at the shelves. One of them even opened the cupboard.

“Lord Priest, what is this?” one of them yelled.

Holding something in his hand, he showed that to the priest standing near the door.

Mira was stretching her neck to see what he held in his palm. She realized it was a small doll woven out of a straw. This did not make any sense. None of them ever used such a trinket, so how is it possible it appeared out of nowhere in his cupboard? And they completely ignored other things he just stuffed there before they came banging on his door?

The priest looked at the straw doll in the villager’s hand, and his gaze moved to the warlock.

“Severian,” he said. “What is this thing? Pray, tell me.”

Severian ignored the priest. He turned towards the villager, who found the straw doll. It was a middle-aged man with a thick mustache and beard. Not only was he tall, but he also had broad shoulders. Standing next to him, Severian looked like a boy, not a man.

“Please, don’t do this,” Severian told that man. “Don’t you see I already have a wife?”

Only then did Mira realize the white stains on that man's clothes were flour. Now this whole drama suddenly made sense.

She jumped out of bed.

“We don’t know what that is,” she said firmly. “It is not ours.”

“How is it not yours when we found it in your hut?” the baker asked her.

“Lord Priest, please, look at this tea! Don’t these leaves look different? Do you recognize this herb?”

“For mercy’s sake, may I not even drink a cup of herb tea?” Severian howled.

Mira's heart dropped onto the floor. They just found out that her tea.

“Come here, Severian,” the priest said firmly.

He listened to him and came closer.

“Do you recognize this herb?” the priest asked him.

Severian was not expecting anything unusual in his own tea, but when he found tea leaves, which shouldn’t be there, a realization dawned on him. He turned to Mira, a hint of anger and sadness in his eyes.

“Lady,” the priest turned to her now. “Tell us the truth. Did this man abduct you?”

Mira blinked. That is the result they deduced? They found an unknown woman in his hut and a drugged tea, so they suspected him of kidnapping. Whoa, this man sure was unpopular in this village.

But now a road appeared before her. She can just accuse him of witchcraft and abduction, and voilá, she will be free of him. She bit her lips. Now the answer to this question was easy. She raised her head to look at them. Her gaze was jumping from priest to warlock.

She opened her lips.

“One moment, if you please!”

They all turned, surprised by a young female voice. Another visitor arrived at the doorstep – the young woman from the bakery.

“Why are all of you accusing Mister Severian now?” she asked, horrified.

So she was clearly nearby the whole time, knowing what was happening.

“Dorota, go back home!” the baker told her.

“But father! Severian is innocent! It is that woman! Everything is this woman's fault!”

“You stay out of this!” he shouted.

“Dear Lord Priest!” the woman dropped on her knees. “I declared this woman a witch. Why do you trouble Severian with such questions?”

“Dorota! Do you see this, Lord Priest! She was utterly bewitched! She's gone mad!”

Mira sighed. Great! So this little scheming bitch decided to report her as a witch to have her executed and have this dear warlock for herself. They will execute both of them now, for sure. And now, because he already realized what her plan was, there is no way they can live together and pretend to be a couple.

Mira turned to Severian. “What are we going to do? Should we just leave?”

“Do you think we will let you?” other villagers shouted. “Both of you are using witchcraft, it is clear now!”

Severian hid his face in his palms. “I don’t want to hurt them,” he said. “This is my home.”

“I am not sure if they deserve such a sentimentality,” Mira said. “They would for sure like to see you hanging.”

The villagers gasped, hearing her words. She was not speaking as a normal village girl. Such insolence in her words! And before the priest!

“Mira, don’t make it even worse,” Severian pleaded.

“Don’t let them escape!”

“Let's bind them, so they cannot use their spells on us!”

“No, don’t do that!” Dorota yelled. “Father! Let Severian go!”

“Stop at once! Just wait until we get home! I will lock you up until you get back to your senses!”

“Oho, getting abusive towards own daughter, now?” Mira provoked them.

The man snapped. Turning to Mira, he was ready to hit her. But Severian stepped before them with his hands spread wide. The baker hit him with his fist straight in his face.

A horrifying crunch echoed through the hut.

Severian tumbled onto the ground.

“Do not hurt Mira,” he said.

Blood was dripping down his face.

“Are you plain stupid?!” Mira yelled at him. “Why are you protecting me now?”

“You are my masterpiece, Mira,” he said. “I cannot let them hurt you.”

“What is he talking about?”

“What did he do to her?”

“Did he really abduct her?”

“Silence!”

The priest's authoritative voice stopped the madness. They all looked at him, expecting the order.

“Bind them both, and we will make a judgment later.”

“How does the trial look?” Mira asked.

“We will let water do the judgment,” said the priest.

So they will bind them and throw them into the water. If they will drown, they are innocent. If they survive, they are using witchcraft.

“Well, we are fucked either way,” Mira said.

She turned to Severian. “I told you, you need to set a boundary with that stupid village girl, and you did not listen to me. Now see how all of this ended up. Are you going to use me finally, or are you just going to let them kill you?”

The warlock rose from the floor. The blood was still dripping down his chin. He wiped it into his palm, drawing a symbol on his hand. He chanted a few words in an alien language, and his eyes glowed red.

Mira gasped. She could feel her skin crawl. The spells etched in her skin activated, the black ink sliding across her body now. Something inside her broke. It was as if someone had cut out part of her soul and forcefully taken it out.

She screamed.

The warlock was ready to activate the spell. To make a deal with the dead. He dabbed into Miras' spiritual energy, he poured into her, trying to use it as a battery. He was surprised and delighted by how easy it was. It worked even better than he expected. He really was able to summon a perfect vessel. She was able to absorb his mana properly.

“I told you he is using magic!”

“Do not let him finish that!”

“Catch them all.”

Two men jumped at the warlock, twisting both his hands behind his back. A loud crack filled the room. Severian screamed, red light in his eyes dimming.

Someone caught Mira, too. Holding her down on the floor. “You will be burned at the stake, witch!” screamed that person at her, spitting on her face.

Mira turned her head to see Dorota, still standing in the middle of this mess. “Are you happy now?” she asked, laughing.

Her eyes flashed red. A wave of energy rippled across the floor, like when you drop a stone into the peaceful lake's surface.

Severian looked at Mira. “You cannot use your magic without me,” he said to her. “I need to be the one to activate the spell.”

“I don’t want to break your illusions,” Mira said, “but I think there is a big flaw in your plan. You said the mage needs two things: knowledge about spells and magical power. All your spells are etched into my skin, and over the previous weeks, you poured your mana into me. Does that not grant the two conditions needed?”

“No,” he said. “That is mine ma…”

Didn’t he just realize a few moments ago that she was able to absorb his mana perfectly? Doesn’t that make it her mana now?

“How do you drive this?” Mira asked.

“Just do not use all at once! Just a bit!”

Someone hit Severian, so he stopped talking, but the strike was too heavy and he passed out.

“Severian!” Dorota screamed.

Mira stopped listening to this chaos and looked at the ceiling of the hut.

She had no idea how to control the mana flowing in her body. Nobody taught her that. She had no idea how much she needed to use to break free of them. And she had no idea which spell from her skin to use. They all flowed inside her head, as a loud group of children, each one asking for her attention.

She closed her eyes, choosing one of them, the loudest one. A sharp cut in her insides made her scream. But the pain stopped just as it appeared. An eerie silence filled the air.

Mira opened her eyes. All people in the hut were not moving, their eyes open. She squirmed under the man who held her. Once she moved, he fell onto the floor. Others followed. They were dropping like dead flies. Because… they were dead.

Mira looked around, confused. Did she do that?

Turning around, she crawled to the warlock to wake him up. But… he was dead, too.

“No,” she said. “ Severian. Wake up! Please! Wake up! No, no… NO! I did not want that! I just didn’t know, I swear…”

Standing up, she looked at all the corpses lying on the floor. Terror seized her body, paralyzing it. But her mind was racing. Someone from the village will come, looking for their family members. And they will see all this mess. And she will be the only one who made it alive. Of course, every sound person will know it was all her doing.

She cannot stay here anymore.

She has to run.

Run. Quickly.

The bag. Bag under the bed.

She dropped onto her knees, pulling out the small bundle she had prepared for her escape. She took it and dashed out of the hut.

She ran as fast as she could, not looking behind, unable to face her own sins.