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A hawk soared through the mist, its shrill cry reaching Jezka. She released her arrow. It shot straight through the eye of the beautiful hawk. Strike one. She watched as the bird tumbled to the dew-covered grass with a plop. Before heading back to her cabin to prepare supper, she would hunt two more.
After her parents passed away from the plague, she’d been completely alone, cooping herself up in her home away from everyone. Jezka had caught the plague too but recovered, although both physical and emotional scars were left in its wake. The ghost of the sickness still came to her at night when she dreamt of her lungs searching for air to breathe through her coughing, the painful boils on her body and her throbbing back. But then she would wake, chest heaving and cured.
Lifting her wool skirt, Jezka stepped over several red berry bushes. An ear-piercing screech reverberated from above. She crouched low, swiftly bringing up her bow, and released an arrow. Its sound quietly whistled in the air and pierced the hawk through the skull. Strike two.
She collected the bird from atop the fallen leaves and rested it on the dirt with her other kill.
The cool wind blew, tousling her long red curls. A village celebration was to be tonight, but Jezka wouldn’t dare go. She used to venture to every one: eat, dance, then take a man back to the woods for a quick tumble.
But since her parents’ deaths, Jezka had become more reclusive with each passing day. As though she were slowly becoming a ghost herself.
In a tree covered in pink blossoms, sitting high in its branches, another hawk preened its feathers. Jezka squinted her eyes, lifted the bow, then let her final arrow fly. It aimed true, sliding straight through the hawk’s chest. Strike three.
The hawk tumbled downward, hitting a few limbs before landing on the ground with a sickening thump. She collected the bird, studying its elegant chestnut-colored feathers as she took it to the others.
After she removed the arrows from her kills, she placed them back in their quiver. Then using twine, she tied each of the hawks’ legs together so she could easily carry them home.
As Jezka was about to place them over her shoulder, the light fog spilling through the woods grew thicker until she could scarcely see ten feet in front of her.
Through the ivory mist, a shadow stood in the distance. Jezka set the hawks down, then yanked an arrow out from its quiver and nocked it on her bow. The shadow drew closer, becoming a figure—a man. Dark hair spilled down his shoulders, his hazel gaze locked on her. The man’s face was pleasant to look at with a strong jaw, chiseled cheeks, and a nose that may have been broken once before. A long pale-white scar ran down the left side of his face and over his eye, enhancing his features.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked, his voice deep.
“What am I doing here?” Jezka cocked her head. “You don’t own these woods.”
He smirked and arched a brow. “I certainly do.”
“How so?” She narrowed her eyes, not lowering her bow as she stepped toward him.
“Follow me and see.” He turned and walked back into the heavy fog, his outline becoming a shadow once more before he was gone.
Jezka snorted. She wasn’t ignorant enough to follow a stranger into the woods. Turning on her booted heel, she left toward home, trekking through the fog with her supper.
As she walked, she thought about the man, his handsomely rugged face. If he’d been at the village dance before her parents had passed, she would have tumbled him after they were both drunk on ale. But she’d been a different person then—she didn’t want to be careless and carefree anymore.
Once at home, Jezka plucked the feathers from the hawks and prepared them for the oven. As the birds cooked, she sharpened her arrow heads, the scent of roasted meat enveloping her.
When supper was ready, Jezka peeled off every sliver of meat from the hawks’ bones until there was nothing left, and her belly was full.
As night fell, she stood, making her way through the silent house to her room. Lying on her bed, she gazed up at the ceiling, and thought once again about hanging herself from the beam. No one would find her. Not a single person would care she was gone. Her body would hang there until it was dust. Alone. Forgotten.
The next morning, Jezka headed for the woods, wondering if she would see the stranger again. She packed double the amount of arrows in her quiver in case she needed them, but she knew her aim was always true.
While passing a row of cottages, several with wet clothing hanging out to dry, her gaze settled on her best friend’s home. After Jezka’s parents had died, Sophia stopped coming to see her. In fact, Sophia hadn’t tried to stay her friend much at all. Jezka’s heart still hurt from it, almost as much as when her parents had died. But sometimes, one found out who a real friend was once an unforgettable event occurred.
A heavy fog blanketed the woods, just as thick as it had been the day before when she’d left. Jezka held tightly onto her bow while keeping her booted feet light. A few twigs snapped and leaves crunched beneath her feet. The fog would make it harder to find prey, but she rarely came home emptyhanded, even when it was like this.
As Jezka trekked farther into the woods, a rustling stirred. She held up her bow, a figure forming in the distance. The body drew nearer, and the stranger from the day before broke through the fog.
“Hello again.” He smiled. “Did you come back to follow me this time?”
“I think I’ll pierce your heart instead,” Jezka said through gritted teeth. But a curious part of her did want to follow him, wanted to see where he would lead her. However, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to do that.
The light fog darkened around her, growing heavier, changing from ivory to obsidian until she could see nothing. She spun around and around, not knowing where to point her arrow anymore. Her heart sped up and perspiration dotted her brow.
Then her eyes became heavy, drifting shut. Jezka’s body fell to the side on the ground, her bow slipping from her hands. Two strong arms scooped her up, and she didn’t have the strength to scream as she felt herself being lowered into something. But the man didn’t release his hold on her.
Jezka peeled open her eyes and focused on a bright light. She lifted her heavy head, finding the man carrying her down a stone staircase in one arm while his other was outstretched, holding a lantern in his hand.
After what felt like hours, the stranger set Jezka back on her feet. Her body swayed before her strength returned. Lanterns around her flickered to life, their flames bobbing. She didn’t have the urge to run, not when her curiosity grew at what she was seeing. Shelf after shelf was lined with dolls. Hundreds of them. Their shining metal faces reflecting the lanterns’ light, their silvery eyes seeming to follow her, their frozen smiles like grimaces, silent pleas for her to help mend them.
Some were missing limbs, hair, their toothless mouths gaping wide—while others appeared pristine, as though ready to be given to a child, a special gift on their birthday.
Jezka took a deep swallow, placing a hand at her pounding heart. “Are you some kind of doll maker?”
“You could say that.” He folded his arms and stepped toward her.
“What is this place?”
“A long-forgotten tower that was built beneath the earth. It will grant anyone a little wish.”
Sophia had always believed these woods were haunted, and she’d never once come with Jezka. Perhaps she’d been right.
“Do you haunt these woods?” Jezka asked, a strange feeling taking root in her chest. Although, not fear. “Are you some kind of ghost?”
“You could say that,” he repeated his earlier words. “But it’s only to give wishes. I come to those in need of a wish, and by the empty and lost look in your eyes, I’m offering you one, if you want it.”
Her stomach sank as she thought about her parents, and what she’d become this past year. No longer herself, the carefree girl she remembered. Perhaps it was mostly her fault Sophia didn’t want to come visit Jezka anymore. But if the roles had been reversed, Jezka never would have stopped trying to help her friend.
Jezka blinked several times, locking her gaze on the stranger’s hazel eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Zel.” His lips tugged up on one side. “And you?”
“I’m Jezka.”
“Beautiful name.” He paused, biting his lower lip. “Do you want to use your wish?”
A wish... Would it work? Jezka had experienced something supernatural above, when the fog changed from white to black. Then there was this man before her, who was possibly a ghost or something else... Yet, what did she have to lose? She had no one anymore. “It can be anything?”
Zel nodded. “Anything at all.”
Jezka thought about something she would want to wish for. She didn’t know if what this man spoke was the truth. If she could have her parents back, she would. But she wasn’t going to wish to have anyone return from the dead. There wasn’t anything else she truly wanted, not when she’d just ached for death the night before.
He held out his palm and Jezka didn’t hesitate as she placed hers in his, feeling his coldness. She shivered at the touch, but didn’t want to release her grasp.
“A kiss first?” Zel whispered, studying her beneath thick lashes.
A kiss? Jezka studied his shapely lips, ones that she knew without kissing would expertly mold and move against hers. “Is that required?”
“No. I only want to taste you.”
Jezka had tumbled several strangers in her past, and she wanted to kiss him too. Perhaps to see what a ghost, or whatever he was, tasted like. It had been too long since she had touched anyone. She licked her lips and nodded.
Zel then leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against hers. It didn’t stay chaste for long as she explored his mouth with her tongue. Her hands cradling his face, gripping his hair. His fingers trailing up and down her spine. And then she pulled back, even though her body yearned for more.
“I wish not to be lonely anymore,” Jezka murmured.
Zel closed his eyes as though something pained him. “You should have refused the wish.”
Before she could speak, a tickling sensation crawled beneath her skin, through her entire body. She peered down to find a shiny silver color spreading across her flesh before hardening. Not only that, but everything around her became larger as she shrunk smaller and smaller until she was the same height as Zel’s boot.
With a heavy sigh, Zel scooped her from the floor. He placed her on the shelf in between two other metal dolls, then tenderly stroked her cheek. Something like regret shone in his eyes. “I am free now. But you will be trapped here, released only to roam the woods in search of your replacement. I pray someday, perhaps, we can meet again, when that day of freedom comes. I’m ... I’m sorry.”
Zel’s shoulders hunched as he walked away, slowly ascending the stairs. Jezka screamed inside her head, begging for him to come back.
Yet she was no longer alone in a room full of dolls.
