Night Witch

Chapter 3

Hans walked Karina to the courthouse, making sure her hands were pressed against her backside. Once she was in her cell, he let her go, and his blue eyes lost some of their malice.

"So," he said amicably, "you're talking again."

There was a pregnant pause. "I'm assuming you want an explanation." Another pause. Karina sat down in a corner, making herself comfortable and fluffing out her drab skirt. "And I don't wish to make you upset, but you're not going to get one unless you can give me something in return. Such as," she held up her wrist, "freedom from these cuffs."

Hans gave a low whistle. "Making up for lost time, are you?" Karina shot him a glare. "I haven't heard you speak in eight years."

She didn't respond.

"Why won't you tell me how you're talking? Why you were quiet for so long if you could? Talk, I mean."

"It's give and take, Hans."

He smirked. "You'll tell me or I...take your doll."

"You were going to take her anyways. And couldn't you get in trouble for talking to me?"

"How's Duras to know?" A smile stretched across his features. "Tell you what, I throw in something else. How about a kiss? In case you didn't know, I'm the most eligible boy in the village. And if that's not enough to persuade you, I know you were sweet on me when we were kids."

"I was never sweet on you." Karina kept her tone even. "And you're courting Helga, I assume. Why would I want a kiss from you?"

Hans wore an expression of shock, his brow furrowed and his eyes wounded. "I'm Hans Pinkerton! Why wouldn't you?"

"Because you're Hans Pinkerton, Duras's servant, and another person who did nothing." She looked up at him resentfully. "Why did you give up, greenshoot?"

"What do you mean?" He pointed a finger at her. "If anything, you gave up! You subjected yourself to servitude, and you didn't speak to a soul for eight years! Why? If you'd spoken up for yourself, you would have saved yourself from poverty!"

Karina stared at her hands. "If I'd spoken up for myself, I would have lost my only power, my only tool of revenge onto all of you! You stupid Moracians!" Her face was turning colors, bruising red. "My silence was my only power, Hans! And you? You had that power and you didn't even use it! You gave up, became one of Duras's lackeys! You're friends with the man who murdered your father!" The words had a power of their own, and Karina closed her mouth instantly. "You had a will to fight back then," she said, "but now it's dead."

His lip curled in rage, and his fists were clenched. "See?" she whispered. "Don't the words sting? Wouldn't you prefer the longer, more quiet pain of silence?"

He stalked out of the room and slammed the door.

Karina tried to sleep.

****

The morning dawned bright from the iron-barred window in Karina's cell, and the girl groaned as she sat up. Her muscles were sore from sleeping directly on the stone. At Olga's hut at least she had her pallet as a protection from the cold, hard floor.

Having nothing to do, Karina tossed her hair all onto one shoulder and pulled her hands up from the floor. They were bound by iron cuffs that made her wrists scream in pain every time she moved, but at least they didn't have the added weight of chains upon them. Some merciful soul a few decades back had decided that yagas didn't need them, that they wouldn't run away. It was a foolish notion, yet a highly appreciated one by Karina. Fewer places on her body would be covered with welts that irritated her skin and made her want to shriek. That and she could hide the evidence from the court better if there was less of it.

Karina began to braid her hair, her nimble fingers working through the long brown strands. They were nearly red in the minimal light. Nearly the color, Karina thought, of a yaga's hair.

Once she was done braiding it, she unbraided it and rebraided it countless times over. She tried to imagine she was weaving a tapestry of some kind, or a rug, or maybe even a sash to one of Gertie's dresses. Men were always knocking on the door for Gertie because of the fine stitchings on her dresses and clothes. Little did they know that Karina was the one doing all of the stitching.

She scowled. Yet another thing that could have been hers, that should have been hers. Just because neither of her parents were of Ancestor status due to the nature of their deaths didn't mean that she didn't deserve fair treatment.

The door flew open. Karina froze mid-braid.

"Your time is here, greenshoot," Hans jeered, his blue eyes cold. His hands released the door handle, and he drew a dagger from his belt like it was a hot coal. Karina simply nodded and picked up her skirts, walking out of the door.

It was time to face the judgement.

Hi, everyone! I know this was a short chapter, but the next one will be much longer...believe me! So, what do you think Karina will face? What did you think of Hans?

Did you like the chapter? If you did, please click that shiny star on your screen and vote! Don't forget to tell me what you enjoyed! If you didn't like it, could you please drop a comment and explain what you didn't like and how I could improve? I love to hear your feedback and what you all think!

Bye! Thanks for reading!

Edited 7/26/16 with advice from @jaedarcy

Closed for Wattpad Edits on 10/28/16