Something Wild (Child of the Winter Moon Book 1)

14: Into the Mists

Returning to the village, Geralt noticed how quiet it was. He couldn't hear the children playing and now wondered if he'd made the right choice. He placed the ear on the stone as Gran had said and waited. The wind seemed to pick up and whispers were heard on it. Geralt looked around him trying to find the source. His medallion started to hum and he turned back towards the stone to see three of the ugliest creatures he'd ever laid eyes on. He could honestly say this was not how he'd pictured the Crones.

"Sheath your weapon, young man," the first said. She was the smallest, if not the ugliest. She wore a red pointed hat and a bandage over one eye, while the other looked like it was a nest for insects. Flies buzzed around her head. She was hunched over and wore a drab brown dress with thin grey hair.

"He's even lovelier in real life," said the second, the biggest of the three. She wore a basket on her face that caused her voice to be muffled. Her shirt barely covered her ample bosom and she, too, wore a drab brown dress.

"In real life, you're... different... than you were in the tapestry," Geralt commented, an understatement if he'd ever spoken one.

Gran went around the third one, who was wearing a red veil over her face and had a large sack over her front, Geralt noting that legs were sticking out of it.

She shoved Gran. "Well? Bring it here!"

Gran went over and picked up the ear, looking it over. She suddenly screamed, a symbol glowing brightly on her right palm.

"You were to bring it, not ogle it."

Gran rushed over to her and handed her the ear. The Crone backhanded her and she went down. Geralt took a step forward as the Crone placed the ear on a necklace next to others.

"Never seek to cross us again," she scolded.

Gran crossed her arms and looked down.

"We shall forgive you this transgression, for you have done well," the second Crone said. "Your children are plump as piglets, sweet as caramel."

Gran did not look happy and wouldn't even look up.

"But now, we must talk to our white-haired friend," the first said.

Gran walked away.

"The woman who cares for the kids...," Geralt began.

"She's a debt to pay," the third answered. "She is here by choice."

"She's insane."

"She knew what our pact entailed when she made it," the first said.

"We helped her. She promised to serve."

"Now she bears our mark, belongs to us. Come, it is another woman who interests you. Speak, White Haired One."

"Our deal," Geralt said. "I did my part. Now do yours."

"A word once given, we will never break," the third said.

"The girl, mousy blond, that's what they call it," the first began.

"Thin as a rail, terrified, exhausted," The second took up the tale. "She could barely stand, the poor thing."

"We care for her the best we could," the third added.

"Like she was our own daughter," the first said.