Witch in the Woods

Part 2

Natya sat on the edge of the crumbling old well, partly obscured by trees and far enough away that the market noise was muted. She played with the new ribbon in her braid, brushing it against her cheek.

She looked down at her reflection. Green eyes, a long graceful neck, a tiny delicate waist, and a lovely face crowned by thick gold hair. She was flawless in every way. But was that all anyone saw? Would her admirers still admire her if she were not beautiful and perfect? Would they still love her if she was-

"Are you okay?"

"Ah!" Natya started so hard, she nearly fell in the well. She turned to see Lyuba, dark eyes wide, holding up her hands in apology.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!"

Natya sat up straight, mortified to be caught so unflatteringly, even if it was just Lyuba. "I'm fine, thank you."

Lyuba inched closer. "You don't look fine..." Her freckled face flushed red as she realized how that sounded. "I-I didn't mean it like that! You're very- ah! Ah!" She twisted her apron in her hands, trying to wrangle her words back in line. "I just meant you look worried."

Natya started to deny it, but what was the point? "It's nothing, just... something my grandmother said..."

Lyuba perched next to Natya on the crumbling wall. There wasn't quite enough space, so Natya's narrow thigh ended up pressed against Lyuba's soft one. It felt nicer than Natya expected. Lyuba looked up at her, her eyes as warm as fresh bread. "If you need to talk about it, I promise not to tell anyone."

Natya knew she wouldn't. But still, she couldn't talk about it. How could she possibly say that she was worried her dozens of lovers didn't love her enough? She especially couldn't say that to Lyuba of all people, squat little Lyuba, whose name was a warning hissed at girls reaching for seconds, who people made pig noises at in the street, who had never been admired in her life.

"Really, it's nothing. But thank you." Natya looked over Lyuba for something to compliment to show that she didn't mean to be dismissive. Smiling politely, she tried,"Your braid is very pretty today." Natya really did mean it though. Lyuba's uncontrollable curls were woven with chamomile flowers that stood out against her dark hair, giving her the look of a cow in a meadow. But...in a sweet way.

"Oh!" Lyuba touched a chubby hand to her braid, glowing with pleasure. "Thank you! My papas helped me with it..." She seemed to remember something. "Oh! I have- wait a minute..." She stood, fumbling in her apron pockets. She pulled out a large slab of gingerbread wrapped in paper and pressed it into Natya's hands. "I made it just this morning. I know you probably don't- But, well, it makes me feel better when I'm- Ah, I'm sorry!"

Natya smiled, genuinely this time. Lyuba really was as sweet as the pastries out of her oven. "Thank you, Lyuba. It smells wonderful."

Lyuba backed away, smiling and blushing and twisting her apron. "I'll leave you alone now. B-but if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me." She turned and scurried back towards the market.

Natya looked down at the gingerbread in her hands, still warm from Lyuba's pocket. It really did smell wonderful, the spices pulling at her in heady waves. It was beautiful too. An intricate pattern of swirls and embellishments had been pressed into the top and dusted with sugar. It was as much a work of art as it was food.

Natya's stomach moaned, absolutely heaving with longing. She tried to shove that feeling down, but it put up a fight. She wanted to eat the gingerbread, to cram the whole giant slab in her mouth, then hunt Lyuba down and beg for more. Her hands shook with how powerful that urge was.

Throw that thing in the well right now, she commanded herself. Get rid of it!

She held the gingerbread over the murky water, willing herself to drop it and be free of the temptation. She stared at it, the beautiful pattern spinning and wavering in her vision. The smell filled her whole body, pulling, pulling. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her head swam. Her hands shook. Her stomach roared.

Drop it. Drop it!

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't throw it away, but she couldn't eat it either. Natya shoved the gingerbread in her pocket and hurried home. She tried to forget about it, even as it thumped against her leg with every step.

✥✥✥✥✥

Baba sat at the loom, weaving a smooth satin cloth in a rich pattern of red, yellow, and black. Natya sat at her feet, winding freshly spun thread into skeins to be dyed and sold. Mama was in the kitchen, making dinner and arguing with Papa.

Baba hummed to herself as she worked. Natya watched her, chewing her lip. Baba was a wise woman. She knew the protective charms, knew how to deal with the domovoi, knew how to weave the spells that kept the family healthy and whole. Baba would know how to deal with the thoughts and worries hanging around Natya's head, biting at her like flies.

"Baba?"

"Yes, my girl?"

"I've keep thinking...about what you said..." Natya's hands slowed their winding. "Mama's right, I need to choose, but how do I know if I chose right? How do I know if the person I marry loves me up and down, loves me for me? They all praise my beauty, but-", she shook her head, "How do I know if they love anything else?"

"You ask me? Child, I don't know!"

Natya's shoulders slumped. She went back to winding her thread and chewing her lip. Baba watched her. Her hands did not slow their work, but her bushy eyebrows furrowed.

"Alright, my girl. If you really want an answer..." Natya looked up at her grandmother, hopeful. Baba's eyes glittered. "Go ask the trees."

"The trees??" Natya shook her head, throwing up her hands. "I can't do that!"

"Why not? It's a new moon tonight. No better time than a new moon!"

"That's witch's work! I wouldn't know the right things to do! I wouldn't know the right words to say!"

"I'll give you the words, my darling. Don't be scared. You can always trust the trees. They're old, they know the right way of everything." Baba glanced toward the kitchen to make sure her daughter and son-in-law were too busy with their petty squabble to pay attention. She leaned close and whispered in Natya's ear, "Tonight... after everyone has gone to bed, go deep into the forest. Don't bring a lamp, but bring an offering. Find the tallest, oldest tree you can, and say these words..."