Chapter 109 - Better Than Orpheus

Despite the bereginya's assurances that the flower wasn't that far, I grew more and more nervous as we ventured farther and farther away from the witches' camp. It was too late for now to retreat, though—I had some pride, and that pride made me grab my flashlight tighter and don't think about what could hide in the places it didn't light up.

"We are almost here, maiden. Look!" The bereginya pointed at something ahead with her long, pale hand, and a moment later I saw a pinprick of reddish light against the darkness. My eyes widened.

The light ahead twinkled, wobbling like a candlelight on the wind, as we walked towards it. In the darkness, I couldn't say how far it was—it could've been both a dozen steps or a five dozen—but it didn't feel like we were growing closer to it.

Then I heard another set of steps following us and stopped. My head began to turn towards the sound, when a grasp of the bereginya's hand on my arm made me pause. It was warm, though I expected it to be cool for some reason.

"Don't look," she said. "You might lose your head if you do. Just keep walking and ignore them. They can't harm you if you do."

It took all my willpower to focus on her face, the white oval in the darkness, instead of turning to look back. My blood ran cold in my veins. "Them?"

"The evil spirits that guard the fern flower. Just ignore them, maiden. The flower already opened the path for you—see how it shines? If it didn't, then you'd be in a real danger."

I thought I was in a real danger right here, right now. "Riiight. No danger at all. Just don't look back. Don't repeat Orpheus' mistakes," I muttered with all the sarcasm I could muster. Sarcasm was better than the panic that started to creep over me.

"Yes, no danger at all!" The bereginya nodded and smiled cheerfully. Apparently, spirits didn't know the meaning of sarcasm, or at least that particular one. "Come on!"

'Why I'm so scared? This is as simple as not looking. Now, say, Christina, Christina could kill me whether or not I look at her. Hey, she almost did! Come on, Diana, man up!' I told myself with a decisive frown, swallowed the lump in my throat and made another step towards the glow of the fern flower on wooden legs. And another one, and another one, and another one.

The bereginya walked by my side, but it didn't made me much less. The sound of footsteps behind my shoulder drew closer, and not looking behind was about as hard as not scratching a mosquito bite. With that thought, I scratched one just to distract myself with that urge from the much more dangerous one.

"Hey, girlfriend! Where are you going?" A voice, clear and loud, came from the forest behind me. It belonged to the last person I expected to hear here—Rita.

My head began to turn on reflex before I forcefully caught it in my hands and physically turned it towards the fern flower. "This is just spirits' tricks too, right?"

"Yes, maiden." The bereginya nodded. "We can walk faster if you want."

Instead of a reply, I fastened my steps. My feet caught on tree roots, pine needles and small stones stuck in my sandals, but I ignored all this in my haste to get to the fern flower. Its red glow grew brighter, and I could see the silhouette of a flower itself. It reminded me of a lotus, but with fewer petals.

"Diana, what are doing? This seems dubious." This time, the voice belonged to Panda. It was easier to ignore it now, though, now that it wasn't such a surprise.

I lowered my flashlight when we entered the small glade where the flower grew. It wasn't necessary anymore—the flower itself gave off enough of the disturbing red light to see everything in the clearing. Another, even more perturbing thing about the flower was that it moved on its own. Its petals shifted in movements that reminded me of jellyfishes, except these weren't as rhythmic.

"It's all yours, maiden," the bereginya said. "Take it, it won't burn your hand."

I nodded. In that moment, I knew she was right, thought it took me another second to realise that the knowledge came not just from my trust of the bereginya's words, but from the flower itself. I could feel its desires and intents in my head, almost like my own, but separate.

It judged me worthy and would accept my hand. I only had to take it. I made a step ahead.

"Are you sure you want to go there, ma chèrie?"

I froze mid-step. Then I shook my head furiously. "This is just a trick. Just a trick. Ugh."

"Are you so sure?" The evil spirit that messed with my head perfectly caught the purring quality of JJ's voice, the one that always made me shiver on the outside and melt on the inside.

The bereginya stood silently to the side, watching me with an intent face. I scowled at her, at the fern flower, and crossed the last four steps that separated us. My hand rose to it, only to pause again when the voice sounded right over my ear, darkly seductive in its low, threatening timbre.

"You would regret this if you do it, ma—"

I didn't listen to the rest of it. "That's a pet name not for you to use, damned rip-off!" I said and tore the flower away from the stem.

The voice disappeared mid-sentence, and the glade went quiet, with only whooshes of the wind and the buzzing of insect to break the silence. The fern flower's light dimmed—not went away, but stopped lighting more than my palms—and I had to raise my flashlight again.

"You got it!" The bereginya smiled at me and clapped her hands. "Thank you for playing with me, maiden. It had been a long time. I will see you later!"

And then she made a step back and disappeared in shadows, just like that, leaving me alone and with no idea where the camp was.