The Witch Within Read Free Page B

during the wolf attacks, and so he ran away from home and kept running further away, giggling and fooling around. And then the pack crept into the village and the biggest male caught him in one bite. I’d witnessed creatures dying before, I’d seen my father killing farm animals a few times, but my father was skilled and quick. The animals would cry, but it lasted shorter than when that boy was eaten alive, crying out in an excruciating pain, until he gave in to the shock and fainted. After that, something changed in me, I realised that I couldn’t eat animals, just like I can’t eat a human. I couldn’t be like those wolves.
    People thought it was strange, my father forced me to eat meat many times, but my mother was more understanding and advised me to hide the meat in my apron when we dined together, and later she threw it to the pigs. Even now I have decided not to hunt, unless I'm starving during winter months. I altered my upper skirt and now use it as a sack, occasionally collecting nuts, acorns and any leaf that attracts me.
     
    *
     
    The moon has exchanged places with the sun and I’ve started roasting some acorns, in order to open them more easily and also to make some acorn flour for later. Now, as I eat this bitter food, I spot a light on the top of the ancient triangle-shaped forested mountain called the Cursed Mount. This whole so-called Cursed Land was sacred to my grandmother, but not that peak. She used to warn me not to go up, because of the latent danger which dwells there.
    She said that when our ancestral tribe migrated from the North and found a home in these lands, they also settled at the top of that mountain, but found something dark there, something that scared them off. Some decided to stay, including a very powerful sorceress, but they have been forsaken by the others since.
    I observe that the rest of the acorns are ready and so I take them out of the fire and when I peer back to the mount, the light is gone.
    As I'm waiting for my dinner to cool down, I notice that I have been sitting right next to a ring of my favourites – bolets! I pick a few and I remember what my grandmother used to say, that mushrooms harbour some secret knowledge, that they are like the veins of the forest, the secret guardians of the subterranean kingdom.
    “If an ill person damages or eats us greedily
    Our feed will bring him nothing but a full belly
    Whereas if a person eats us with gratitude
    We will grant him, or her, the truth.”
    The verses flow through my mind without origin or end. I can’t recognise whether it's my mind or someone else’s. Is there a spirit in everything? Are those bolets actually communicating with me? Or am I going mad? I shake off all the worries, giving in to their rhymes.
    “The root of our wisdom is underground,
    you can’t harm us once we sprout.
    Just please don’t damage our lair,
    For we will come up again one day
    When we know the grounds have been saved.
    Our wisdom will transmit to your heart,
    So that you don’t ever have to starve.”
    The flow of information is unstoppable and I have finally become fully aware that these are not my thoughts, it’s some sacred knowledge from these sacred grounds that I hear.
    “Be aware of the two strong men, we hear their steps as they are near,
    they were sent to hunt you down, one is stuck in rage, the other one in fear.
    But do not lose your hope, for just like we thrive underground,
    you all thrive in the web of time.”
    If it's true and there is someone after me, then I should not linger, but find the cave as soon as possible. I know that there I will be safe, particularly if grandmother is still alive. I eat the bolets with deep gratitude, pack up and continue walking. It's dark, but the moon is full and shining brightly. I stride ahead until the dawn and then with the first clearing of the morning mist, I finally spot the deer standing right in front of me. He appears strong and wise as usual, only his eyes aren‘t calm,