To Kill a Kettle Witch (Novel of the Mist-Torn Witches) Read Free Page A

Years ago, when I was just a girl, the prince in power found he didn’t have enough serfs to handle the harvest, so he let it be known that if any of the traveling Móndyalítko were willing to work to bring in the crops, they were welcome to camp in the meadow all through late spring and summer.”
    Céline knelt down at her feet. “You traveled with the Móndyalítko?”
    “Course I did. Fourteen to sixteen caravans came to that meadow every spring. We picked strawberries first, and then raspberries, then blueberries, and then apples in the early autumn. We were asked to pay nothing in rent for our stay, and we were allowed to keep a portion of the berries and apples we picked—and also to fish in any of the streams and set snares for rabbits. It was a haven.” She paused. “The next prince and the next made the same offer. They needed the help.”
    “And something caused Prince Malcolm to stop allowing this?” Amelie asked.
    “No,” Helga answered. “The caravans still roll into that meadow every spring.”
    “But what happened with you?” Céline asked. “Where is your own family, and how did you come to be here?”
    Helga’s expression closed up. “Don’t ever ask me that again. I told you your mother’s people need help, and they do. This year, someone has cursed the land of Yegor, and Prince Malcolm blames the Móndyalítko in the meadow. Whatever has happened, it’s no blight or disease. There’s no drought and yet everything has withered and died, from the grass to the apple blossoms to the strawberries. The prince is facing ruin if he can’t turn this around, and he’s started torturing people to find the culprit. At least one has died. The others are all being held as prisoners.”
    “What?” Céline gasped, trying to get her head about this. “Helga, how do you know this? Has someone written to you?”
    Again, Helga’s expression closed up. “I can’t tell you, but you know I’d never say such things unless they were true. I need help. We have to go there. You and Amelie have to use your powers to find the truth.”
    “Yegor?” Jaromir said, sounding incredulous. “It would take a week just to travel there, maybe more, depending on the state of the roads.”
    No one answered him, and the room fell silent except for the sound of Oliver licking his paws.
    “You say our mother’s people are in this meadow?” Amelie asked finally.
    “It’s been some years since I did a harvest,” Helga answered, “but a small caravan from the line of Fawealways rolled in back then, and I can’t see why that would change.”
    “Céline, we have to go,” Amelie said flatly.
    This was more complicated than Amelie seemed to realize. They’d never met anyone related to their mother. Were they simply to arrive and introduce themselves? How would either they or their offer of help be received? She knew so little of the situation. And what if one of the Móndyalítko had cursed the crops?
    But Helga watched her with fearful hope, and Céline realized they couldn’t refuse.
    Reaching out, she touched Helga’s hand. “Of course we’ll go.” She turned to Jaromir. “We’ll need protection for the journey. Do you think Prince Anton will give you leave?”
    Jaromir still appeared stunned at the idea of any of them going all the way to the southeast province, but she didn’t think he would refuse, either.
    And of course Anton would give them leave.
    The sisters had served him well in the past year. They’d used their abilities to help him catch murderers and to shore up his legacy as a strong leader. He had given them this shop in gratitude, but they hadn’t asked for it. They’d never asked him for anything. He would certainly grant this one request.
    Jaromir locked eyes with Amelie for a long moment. On such a long journey, he’d want to be at her side.
    “I’ll go and speak with the prince,” he said.
    Helga closed her eyes inrelief.

Chapter Two
    Even though Jaromir had been up all night