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PAV
Pav stood holding a sword beneath the blazing sun. Two wide eyes stared up at him. Perhaps they weren’t wide, but they were studying him with some hint of emotion.
“Listen, it will all be over quickly if you turn around and gaze at the trees,” he whispered, making a circular motion with his sword behind Ionna’s home.
Retrieve two goat eyes, Daryna had said. Oh, how easy that would be. Daryna didn’t have to help him search in another realm for his dead brother, but she’d chosen to. Pav had killed plenty of animals for meat but not a goat, and it wouldn’t stop watching him.
“What are you doing?” Ionna asked from close behind.
He jumped at her voice and twisted his head over his shoulder to see her tight curls bouncing as she came up beside him.
“I’m starting a meal today,” he said. “I thought a goat stew would be a spectacular meal.” It would be, too, if this goat would just turn around.
“Tired of pig already?” She laughed.
Pig was delicious. If this had been a pig, he would have had an easier time preparing one.
“No, I wanted to try something different, and I thought it would be a nice gesture to get this goat ready.” He grinned on the outside, but inside he felt he might lose everything in his stomach. How could he hope to become a soldier, if he couldn’t even handle killing one goat?
Ionna’s copper skin glowed under the sun as she took the sword from his hand. With one swift motion, the goat’s head plopped on the ground, spilling crimson.
“Next time, don’t think about it, Pav. If you over analyze the situation, we would never eat.” Producing a yellow cloth from the pocket of her trousers, she wiped the red specks from the blade and handed the weapon back to Pav.
Wonder filled Pav at how fluid her movements had been. “I didn’t know you were good with a sword, too.”
“I’m good with all weapons.”
“Perhaps you can spar with me sometime. Anton isn’t ... wasn’t that good at it.”
In their younger years, it was entertaining when he and his brother would clack their wooden swords together. Even though Anton was older than Pav, he hadn’t ever outlasted his younger brother. Their father had made them swords from his spare wood and had shown them the basics. Only Pav was a natural at it.
Ionna patted his shoulder. “It may be hard to talk to Yeva and Tasha about Anton since they loved him as much as you. But if you ever need someone to confide in, I’m here. You’re about to be my brother too.”
She was kind yet had a protective side to her. He was grateful Yeva had found someone like her.
“You want to help me skin the goat?” Pav asked.
Blinking, Ionna stared at the animal. “You know, it would have been better if I had stabbed it, skinned it, then removed the head. But this will work, too.”
Pav casually picked up the head to hide, searching for a place to cut out its eyes in private. As he started to the side of the house, Ionna called out to him, “Where are you going?”
Letting out a deep breath, he whirled to face her while holding the goat head. “I’m going to bury this later. Some religions say it helps the animals cross over to the other side with ease.”
“What religion is that?” Her dark brows slid up her forehead.
The only thing he could think to say was the first thought that came to him. “Something my father used to tell me. I can’t recall the religion, though.”
“All ... right.”
He didn’t know if she believed him or not, but she dropped the subject.
Setting the head beside the house, he hurried back to Ionna who had already grabbed a smaller knife to cut into the goat.
After they finished and went inside with the meat, Pav found Tasha on her stomach reading a book by the fire in the sitting room, Juju cozy beside her. I suppose Juju doesn’t have to be snuck in anymore.
“Do you want to help make goat stew?” Pav asked his younger sister.
“Yes. But Juju is coming.” Closing her book, she made clucking sounds to get the chicken to follow her.
They headed into the kitchen and he grabbed a glass jar and a knife from the drawer. “Can you start on the carrots and potatoes? I’ll meet you back in here in a little while.”
She nodded and reached for a carrot as Juju pecked at scraps on the floor. Pav hurried out the backdoor, not spotting Yeva yet. His sister must have been collecting herbs out in the field still.
Pav picked up the goat head, squinting his eyes as he widened the animal’s lids. Sliding in the knife with a squishy crunch, he detached one eyeball and placed it in the open jar. He then worked on the other one, sealing the jar shut after plopping the second eye inside.
He strode out by the trees and buried the head before returning to meet Tasha. His stomach dropped, knowing he wouldn’t be able to tell her a story tonight.
Not wanting to vanish into thin air and have his sisters worry too much, Pav picked up the quill and wrote a note to Yeva, then one to Tasha.
Pav let Tasha know he was going on an adventure and would tell her as many stories as she would like when he returned. And to Yeva, he let her know he was going to find Maryska and avenge Anton. He didn’t mention he was going to look for Anton first because she would think him mad. Quietly, he placed the letters on the pillows of their beds.
When he came out of Yeva’s room, he found Tasha still reading her book.
“Your eyes are going to turn into words, you know that?” he said, trying to sound serious.
“That’s impossible.”
“I’m going out.” He held his arms open for him to wrap around her. “Can I have a hug?”
She stood from the floor and threw her thin arms around his waist. “See you tonight.”
“I love you, baby bean.” That was the only response he could give her for now.
Before walking out the front door, Pav stuffed the herbs and the jar with the goat eyes into his satchel.
Outside, Yeva and Ionna were sifting through different herbs and binding them with cords. His heart thumped with regret since he wouldn’t be able to help his sister at the market tomorrow, but this was important to him.
“I’ll be back later,” Pav said. “The stew is already cooking.”
“Did you get that goat head buried?” Ionna gave him a half smile.
That was one thing he didn’t have to lie about. “I did.”
Yeva glanced up, crinkling her nose while winding a cord around the lavender. “Why would you bury a goat head?”
“Papa told me once about a religion that buried the heads of animals to help them cross over to the other side.”
She pulled her wheat-colored braid over her shoulder. “He never told me that story.”
“Perhaps because you never asked about animal heads?” Pav shrugged.
Yeva stared at him like she could read straight through his fabrications. She probably knew he was lying, but she didn’t say anything.
With a final goodbye, he crossed through the tall grass until he hit the dirt path. He wished he could have seen Polina before he left, but he’d already run into her the previous night at the market and had told her it would be a few days until he would see her again. Hopefully, he lived up to his promise.
The night before invaded his thoughts. The dancing and the kissing, mainly the kissing, put a smile on his face until he came to the fork in the road. He continued through the woods toward Daryna’s cottage.
Pav had never met Daryna in person before the previous night, but he had known what she looked like. Without Papa’s knowledge, Pav used to sneak out and follow him into the woods, believing that his father was dallying with the woman who lived there. Until he’d found out Papa was stealing things to sell to her.
Daryna was younger than he’d originally thought, somewhere in her twenties with brown skin and a lovely, crooked nose. He didn’t know what to think of her, but he found her interesting.
A speckled chicken clucked when he opened the white-painted gate, leading to Daryna’s cottage. The hen then pecked his boot.
He brushed past it and made his way to Daryna’s bare porch. She yanked open the door while his fist was in midair, preparing to knock. “I said afternoon.”
“It is afternoon.” He pointed to the sun.
“I meant later in the afternoon.”
“Well, you didn’t say that.”
“Come on.” She huffed and pulled him by his collar inside.
A stench, like rotting mushrooms, overpowered the delicious scent of baking bread, turning Pav’s hungry stomach and making the thought of food revolting. The sitting room appeared cozy with a fireplace in the corner, fur rugs, and a satin settee. He couldn’t remember if the inside of Daryna’s cottage had been the same the time he’d peered in when his father had come to visit. But he did remember the circular kitchen table that was still there. He moved toward the settee to sit down.
“Not there.” She pointed toward the table. “Here.”
Taking the satchel from across his chest, Pav tugged a chair out and unbuckled his bag. He placed the herbs on the table, along with the clear jar.
Without a word, Daryna took out a sharp knife and cut the sage and thyme into smaller pieces on a cutting board, before dumping them into a large cauldron.
“What did you put in there already?” he asked, his gaze not leaving the dark liquid.
“Ten human fingers, five human teeth, and a human heart.” Her hazel eyes fell to his chest.
“Really?” He took a hard swallow.
“No.” She stirred the pot without looking back at him.
“So, what is really in there?” He stood from his chair and moved closer to get a better look.
She released a heavy breath. “A chicken beak, owl’s heart, bird feathers, grass root, dirt, water, my hair”—she plucked a strand from his head and tossed it into the pot—“and your hair.”
He rubbed the sore spot on the side of his scalp. “Next time let me know beforehand, and I’ll gladly pull out a strand for you.”
Ignoring him, Daryna took the jar from the table and unscrewed the lid. She let the eyeballs drop into the cauldron with a small splash. He wrinkled his nose as the eyes floated to the top and swirled around.
“What do we do now?” he asked.
“We wait for it to finish.”
“Do you want me to come back later?”
“No, sit down,” she demanded.
He took a seat and tapped his fingers on the table while watching as Daryna grabbed a tea kettle to pour in water. She placed it on the stove to heat, then pulled out a large loaf of bread that had finished baking. His stomach awakened again at the yeasty scent.
Daryna cut the sweet bread in two and placed half in front of him, along with several slices of dried meat.
“Thank you,” he said, tearing off a large piece of bread and savoring the taste.
“I can’t let you go to the afterlife hungry. I’m not sure how much food they have over there.” The edges of her lips twitched as if she was trying to fight a smile.
Daryna stood by the cauldron, chewing her bread while stirring the liquid.
“What made you come here?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t always live in Kedaf, so why did you come here?”
Frowning, she stopped stirring and met his gaze. “I don’t know. My former life doesn’t matter.”
“Ah, so you wanted to build a new life somewhere else. I can understand that.”
“Yes, something like that.” A line between her brows remained, as if she was thinking deeply about something.
“But a secluded cottage in the woods seems more like hiding than building a new life, doesn’t it?”
“Not if I like it,” she spat.
Pav avoided her sharp stare and started on the dried meat.
Daryna poured the tea into two cups and slammed his on the table. “Tea?” she snapped.
He tried to hide a smile and keep a serious expression as he drank the tea. It burned his tongue, and he let out a curse.
“You should have let it cool first before drinking it.” She finally smiled as she blew into her cup.
After finishing her drink, Daryna studied the liquid in the cauldron for what had to be the hundredth time. With the ladle, she lifted the concoction and poured it back in after inhaling. “It’s ready.”
Pav rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He should have been nervous about what was to come, but his focus and determination held strong.
She poured the liquid into two new cups, giving him one. “We have two days to find Anton.”
“Only two?”
“Yes. Now, let’s go to the settee. Otherwise, when your body drifts off, you could fall over and crack something, and then you might never wake again.”
Pav followed her into the sitting room and lowered himself beside her. Two swords rested on the table in front of the settee, and she handed him one to attach to his hip, while taking the other.
“By the way, I believe Maryska is from Torlarah, which is the afterlife where we’re going. And I’m thinking Anton will be able to lead us straight to her. Cheers,” she said, taking a long swig of the tonic.
