The Pond – Part 7

It was some time later when Izolda awoke in the witch’s cave. There was no confusion or disorientation, instead she was filled with the knowledge of what had happened and the consequences of what she’d done.

Varnya’s power was hers. She could feel it crackling beneath the surface, ready to be called upon should she need it. There was also the knowledge that the witch had come here seeking out those of power to replenish her own. The spell Izolda had memorized was simple - sacrifice one of power to gain that power for your own.

This is what happened to the young men from the village of Bakal, Varnya had lured them to the river to drain their magic – that’s what truly killed them. But the magic of Bakal was not as strong as the magic of Likhvin, Izolda’s village, which is why Varnya befriended Izolda, to gain access to more powerful prey.

Izolda had always known Varnya was not teaching her out of the goodness of her heart, that she had an ulterior motive. Now she knew that the witch had fully intended to drain her dry of her magic. One last gulp of power before moving on.

There would be many questions. The ripple from the transfer of power would have been felt in the village. Izolda needed to come up with plausible answers. She could deal with the contents of the cave later. For now she set her own wards at the entrance, far superior to Varnya’s, and headed back to the river.

Matyei was lying half in, half out of the river. As Izolda checked to make sure he was still alive, a plan began to form. With a single thought her appearance became more disheveled. Taking hold of Matyei by the shoulders, she began to drag him the rest of the way out of the river. When her father and several others from the village reached them, Matyei was just regaining his senses.

“What has happened here?” Andrei demanded, an accusing glare directed at Izolda as though it were all her fault.

“Oh, father!” she wailed, arms clutched around herself, rocking back and forth as she crouched on the ground beside her brother. “Matyei is a hero! He vanquished the Ruslka!”

“What nonsense is this? What have you done to him?” He gripped Izolda by the arm, pulling her to her feet. With a motion of his other hand directed two of his other sons to help their brother.

Izolda sniffled. “We came to the river to fish, Matyei and I. There was a woman,” she choked back a sob. “A strange woman. She looked at us with glowing red eyes and we were frozen in place. Then suddenly I was surrounded by woods.”

She shuddered. “I knew something bad was happening. I made my way back to the river in time to see Matyei break free of the Rusalka’s power and vanquish her.”

Andrei’s grip loosened and Izolda sank back to the ground. “Is this true?” he demanded of Matyei, who’d been helped to his feet by his brothers.

“I—I—” he glanced helplessly at Izolda. “We came to fish, yes. And the woman came to us suddenly. I did not see what happened to Izolda – the woman cast a spell on me. I—I—remember standing in the river . . .” He shivered. “My memory is foggy. I thought I was going to die, but she turned to smoke.”

Andrei’s face showed a mixture of emotions, finally settling on pride. He clasped Matyei in his arms. “Behold my son, vanquisher of evil!”

Izolda waited until the men started back to the village before climbing to her feet. She gave a sniff, wiping the false tears away. Her grandmother was right, she decided as she trailed after them.

All men are fools.

Seguidilla Poem

Be careful what you wish for. Last week I complained that I didn’t like a form so unstructured, this week I’m finding the form a little too structured. There’s just no pleasing me, is there?

The Seguidilla began as a folk dance in 17th century Spain before evolving into the poetic form. It has alternating long/short lines of 7 syllables and 5 syllables that gives it its rhythm.

It can be written in however many septets (7 line verses) as you wish, although there is a slight pause between lines 4 and 5, often an end stop. This is often marked with a change in thought between lines four and five.

Here’s the schematic for it:

xxxxxxx
xxxxA
xxxxxxx
xxxxA
xxxxB
xxxxxxx
xxxxB

An alternate rhyme scheme is:

xxxxxxx
xxxxA
xxxxxxx
xxxxA
xxxxB
xxxxxxA
xxxxB

I have to admit I struggled with my example. And honestly, I’m not happy with the result although I did manage two verses where the examples I’ve seen only have one. I may revisit this form some day to better do it justice, but for now I’ll just have to share what I managed to come up with.


Autumn

The days grow short, nights are long
death is in the air,
darkness is growing closer,
time to reap with care.
Harvest moon up high
shining down on empty fields,
timeless in the sky.

When harvest time is over
fire lights up the hill
to celebrate the Samhain,
promises fulfilled;
ancient rites achieved
by those who keep the faith if
legend is believed.

Chocolate Thief

The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.
― Willie Nelson

When the mouse laughs at the cat, there's a hole nearby.
― Nigerian Proverb

If you build a better mousetrap, you will catch better mice.
— George Gobel

Last week was another one of those weeks where I had a plan. Last weekend was the Labor Day weekend, which meant the kids went back to Tuesday, which meant no more babysitting. I spent the holiday Monday back and forth between my current office and my former office (across the hall) de-junking both spaces and ferreting out stuff to donate to a big thrift store.

I actually loaded up the car Monday night, so I could drive to the thrift store first thing Tuesday morning. Everything went as planned, and on the drive home I started thinking about the bit of work I had left to do in my office – dealing with a couple of left over bins and the stacks of books on the floor.

But when I got home a wave of apple scented air hit me – I had a bag of apples given to me by my neighbor and I needed to deal with them. That took me the rest of the day and cleaning my office was put off until the following day.

I won’t bore you with the details but my office was looking pretty good when I happened to notice that the opened chocolate bar I’d tossed into a bin with a bunch of other stuff to be dealt with later, looked like it had been nibbled on. So I looked in the small bookcase I’d pulled it from, and sure enough I spotted some mouse droppings. Eww!

This was a game changer. My office now needed a thorough cleaning. Which is how I spent my Thursday. In the process, I also discovered that one of the Kinder eggs (chocolate, foil-wrapped eggs that have a plastic bulb with a prize inside, not available in the U.S.) I’d left on my desk about a month ago had been broken into. There were a couple of holes in it, right through the foil wrapper.

Double ewww!

The irony of this is that I used to keep a stash of snacks in the bottom drawer of my desk, but stopped months ago. And those snacks had never been touched. All that was left in that drawer was a jar of Planters Peanuts from well before Christmas, about a 1/4 full. A jar that now had a chewed up lid (although they hadn’t made it through the plastic yet).

The open jar full of Werther’s caramels on my desk was untouched, as was my baggy of dark chocolate squares. Since the caramels were individually wrapped I just closed the air-tight lid, but the baggy I tossed.

I guess the mice only liked the milk chocolate of the Kinder eggs. In fact, when I was moving stuff away from one of the book cases to vacuum, I found the yellow plastic bulb from the center of an egg which had been opened to reveal the toy inside, and a few flecks of foil from the wrapping. Could the mice have really carried an egg off my desk to chew on at their leisure?

I have never had any sign of a mouse in my office before, not even when I habitually stashed snacks in my desk drawer. Of course I used to have a cat and I find it interesting that this has taken place about a month after we had to have him put to sleep.

You can be sure when I replenish my stash of dark chocolate I’ll be putting it in a vacuum sealed jar, like my caramels. As for the Kinder eggs, I’ll still buy them for my granddaughter and I to enjoy when she comes to visit, but I’ll be keeping them in the fridge from now on.

At least until I get a replacement for my cat.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

WORDAGE REPORT

I totalled about 300 more words last week than the week before, and I’m kind of surprised I managed that, what with all the time lost to apple peeling/slicing and the thorough cleaning of my office.

Most of the extra words were in the serial story. It ran a little long, but it couldn’t be helped – there was a lot going on. My only problem with it is that I wrote it late at night so I wasn’t feeling the most coherent and I think the installment suffered for it.

NEW WORDS:
Blog Posts – 1,548+816+610+928=3,602
Poetry – Poetry – 68 (included in blog post)

Total words: 3,602

Goals For Next Week:
Try write words other than blog posts.

EDITING:
11 pages
It may not seem like a lot of work, but first, see the above story about my cleaning binge. And second, I’m taking a little more time. I’ve been working with the marked up version my editor sent me, most of which are just little changes. When there’s been a big change I’ve pretty much been highlighting it to come back to later. There hasn’t been a lot of them, but there’s a few.

But now I’ve been making the lengthy changes as I go along. Like, rewriting a scene where it seems like there’s a narrator that appears out of nowhere. So, the editing is taking a little more time. The good news is, I only have about 50 pages left.

Goal For Next Week:
Step up the editing pace on Magickal Mayhem.

MARKETING:
*sigh* No Marketing. I was gonna, but I didn’t.

Goal For Next Week:
Submit two flash stories and one poem.

TECH & TRAINING:
I didn’t get around to figuring out what I’m going to do with my new and improved subscription to Dropbox, but I did straighten out my virus protection. Avast was bugging the crap out of me with all its popups, so I decided to go with McAfee (seeing as my original subscription automatically renewed itself). I even managed to get rid of the trial version Staples installed – no more annoying popups telling me my free version was expired.

Goal For Next Week:
Figure out what I’m doing with Dropbox.

POETRY WEDNESDAY:
Last week’s form was the Descort. It wasn’t a difficult form, but I find I prefer ones that are a little more structured. The whole point of the Descort is that it is totally unstructured.

Goal For Next Week:
Find a new form to share and give some more thought to the anthology.

CRAFTING:
Didn’t work on the pillowcase at all last week, but I did get another stripe done. Each stripe is 10 rows.

I actually did get my sewing machine working again and finally sewed my sleeveless blouse together. Unfortunately, it needs some altering. By hook or by crook I will make it fit!

Goal For Next Week:
Work the pillowcase. Work on the cancer afghan. Get the alterations done to the sleeveless blouse and finish the skirt.

WHAT I’M READING:
Still haven’t updated my Goodreads account – I’m really going to hate myself when I finally get around to it.

Finished reading Book Lovers by Emily Henry and started reading Small Town Big Magic by Hazel Beck. I’m only a couple of chapters in, but I like what I’ve read so far. And I have incentive to read faster – I had four books delivered last week, including the new Stephen King book, Fairy Tale.

Goal For Next Week:
Suck it up and update my Goodreads account!

GOAL REVIEW:

My total word count was a little higher than last week’s, which was good considering my week was even busier than the week before. I’m not sure that straightening out my virus protection counts as tech or training, but it’s all I got. :-)

I’m happy to report that I didn’t spend as much time on the games. And for all my office has never been cleaner, I didn’t get around to doing my shredding.

Did take my car load of donations to the thrift store, but the only room that really impacted was my office. Did I mention how clean it is now?

I actually did make a couple of lists last week, long lists that lasted a couple of days each. It did actually help me be more productive, so you can be sure I’ll be keeping up with that.

Happy writing.

The Pond – Part 6

“No! I will not do it!”

Varnya raised a brow. “When we began, you agreed to do whatever I asked of you.”

“Yes, but—”

“You have come too far to become the coward now. You crave power as much as I.”

Izolda was silent. She was thirteen now, her brother Matyei was ten and had completed his lessons in magic. Or rather, Andrei had decided his precious seventh son had grown as much as he was going to in magic. His disappointment was palpable.

Matyei and Izolda were no longer as close as they once were. Matyei was well aware his father found him lacking, and that Izolda would have made a better son than him. But though he could not help his resentment of her, he still kept the secret of her magic to himself. For now, at least.

“This is no small thing you ask of me,” Izolda said finally. “I must think on it.”

“Of course,” Varnya said.

Izolda left the witch’s cave, but she did not go home. Instead, she went to her favorite rock by the river to sit and think. And she had much to think about.

She had been studying with Varnya for three years now, and though she’d learned a great deal she knew that Varnya was holding back. The spells she was learning were minor. When she questioned Varnya about the greater spells she was told she was not ready. It was too soon. Was this really the case? Or was Varnya worried about the student outstripping the teacher?

They were supposed to be working together, yet Izolda was the one taking all the risks. She was the one to gather personal items to lay a curse, a lock of hair to create a hex. And yet Varnya hoarded the actual spells, telling her she wasn’t yet ready for the responsibility.

Izolda stood. Varnya was right about one thing. She craved power. She knew what she had to do.

Two days later she returned to Varnya’s cave.

“Tell me what I must do.”

Varnya gave a small smile of satisfaction, secure in the knowledge the girl was her devout follower.

“All you need do is lure your little brother to the river and wait. I’ll take care of everything else and his power will be mine.”

“Don’t you mean ours?”

“Of course,” Varnya said smoothly. “We will share it equally.”

It was easy enough to draw Matyei away from home without anyone seeing them. It helped ease her conscience that he was being particularly vexing.

“I never knew that father liked fish so much. Are you sure if I catch him some fish he’ll forgive me for my mistake with the garden?”

“Anyone could get that spell wrong, reversing instead of enhancing the beet crop.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Izolda sighed. “I noticed there are some large fish that like to collect in the river near the black rocks. All you need to do is catch them.”

They reached the river and Izolda watched dispassionately as Matyei cast his line. She felt Varnya’s approach and a shiver of anticipation went up her spine. The witch gave her a pointed look and Izolda stepped back from her brother. Before Matyei realized what was happening, Varnya raised her hand in a clawing motion and froze him where he stood.

“So young, such potential,” Varnya hissed. “You need to take a step now.”

Matyei had no choice but to obey. He stepped into the water. Neither of them noticed that Izolda had vanished.

“Witch!” Matyei forced the word past his lips.

“Why yes,” Varnya said with a wide, toothy smile. “You and I are going to have some fun before I drain you dry.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Izolda ran down the path as fast as her feet would carry her. It was not that she cared overmuch for her brother’s life, but she needed him to keep Varnya distracted. She reached the cave and was stopped by Varnya’s wards. Fortunately, like everyone else, the witch underestimated her.

She laid her left palm on the solid air of the ward and muttered a spell. The ward dissolved under her hand. Wasting no time, if Varnya was smart she would have attuned herself to her wards and know they were breeched, she went to the very back of the cave where Varnya kept her personal things.

The witch was not much of a housekeeper. Quickly, quickly, she rooted through the piles of books and papers, clothes and blankets. Nothing. Glancing around, she saw a small metal box on a wooden shelf beside several stoppered bottles. That had to be it!

Even as she reached for it she could feel Varnya approaching, and she was in a rage. Izolda fumbled with the box – it was locked. Frantically she searched her mind for the right spell, finding it just as Varnya reached the chamber.

“What are you doing?” Varnya screeched. She was in her true form – her tangled hair had a greenish cast to it. Her thin, grey skinned form was clad in dripping rags.

“It was always going to end with one of us dead,” Izolda said. She took the comb made of fish bone in her hand and snapped it in half.

Varnya screeched, a long, wailing sound, and turned to smoke. Izolda recited the spell she found in the cave two days ago, the one Varnya had intended to use on Matyei. The power slammed into her, and she knew no more.

Descort Poem

What has no rhyme, no rhythm, and no syllable count? If you answered the Descort (which means quarrel or discord) poetry form, you’d be right.

The Descort is believed to have been created by Garin d’Apchier, one of the French troubadours of the High Middle Ages (1100 t0 1350). It’s distinguished by its lack of consistency, which makes it the perfect poetry form for the beginner. The Descort is constantly changing, which creates an inconsistent flow. Here are a few guidelines:

There is no rhyme.
There is no syllable count.
There is no meter.
Every line should be distinctive – each line should have a different length from the one directly before it or after it.
There can be as many or as few stanzas as you wish, but they should be of different lengths too.
Despite its erratic nature, it was intended to be musical, although I’m not sure how one would set it to music.

Do not confuse the Descourt with Free Verse, or a List Poem. Its discordant nature makes it unique. It’s an interesting form to work with. My default is rhyme and rhythm and it’s strange to actively avoid it. To be perfectly honest, I like a little more discipline to my poetry – this is not going to be one of my favorite forms.


Autumn

Leaves turning
The days are getting shorter now
Nights, longer and chill

Crisp sunny days
The park is all but deserted now
My footsteps crunch
Vibrant colours begin to fade
Squirrels gather nuts

Thick woolen sweaters
Plaid blanket
Favorite pair of hiking boots
Jeans

Sitting by the fire
Steam wafting upwards from a cup of tea
A book open on my lap
Maybe pie
Pumpkin of course

Bad Idea

Our minds are a battle ground between good and bad ideas; we are whatever side wins the battle.
― Bangambiki Habyarimana

Take time to reflect, let ideas flow on their own schedule and let yourself have numerous bad ideas to inspire the good ones.
― Joanie Connell

A bad idea or a bold idea. And yet, history’s greatest minds always advised bold over safe; their words good padding for even the worst ideas.
― Holly Jackson

Where do you get your ideas? This is the question writers are asked most often. And no one wants to hear, “I dunno, they just come to me,” (said with a shrug). They want specifics. I used to think it’s kind of a dumb question – ideas are everywhere, you just have to open your eyes to them – but it’s not always that simple.

Yes, ideas are all around us, but are they good ideas? Ideas with enough meat to sustain them for an entire story, or novella, or novel? Not always. Sometimes the ideas you come up with are terrible. And you don’t always realize this until you’ve wasted considerable time trying to make it work.

I’m guilty of this, especially if I’m working with generated prompts. What looks good as a prompt doesn’t always translate into a story.

So how can you tell if your idea is good or bad? Well, you can’t always. But there are signs you should abandon it. If it’s taking too for you to get that first word down – you sit there and stare at the screen (or notepad) and nothing happens. Don’t wait too long before moving on to something else. This will only lead to no end of frustration and wasted time.

If it’s a struggle to get going on it, the words you think you could use just slip away when you try to put them down, or you keep changing them and they still don't make sense, it’s probably not a good idea. If you try plotting it out and it doesn’t really go anywhere, it probably never will.

If you’re unsure of an idea, run it by a friend whose opinion you trust. They might have insights on why it’s a bad idea.

Does this idea excite you? Make you want to sit at your desk for hours working away? Will there be an audience for it?

There’s an argument that there’s an audience for everything, even really bad ideas. So I guess the question you have to ask yourself is, what do you want to get out of this idea. Are you writing it for fun? For profit? Only you can decide if an idea is worth saving.

To help you find an idea, good or bad, here are a few of my favorite prompt generators:

Short Story Ideas  

RanGen 

Writing Prompt Generator 

Plot Generator 

Writing Exercises and Prompts 

Springhole 

Even a bad idea is better than no idea at all.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

WORDAGE REPORT

Well, I was pretty much treading water, as far as writing went last week. But all things considered, it was a busy week so just keeping up is good enough for me.

NEW WORDS:
Blog Posts – 1,603+579+473+648=3,303
Poetry – Poetry – 181 (included in blog post)

Total words: 3,303

Goals For Next Week:
Try and add in some extra words to that total.

EDITING:
3 pages
Yowsa! I had a lot of good intentions, where editing was concerned, but good intentions don’t produce pages. This is getting ridiculous! How long have I been editing this book now? I think it’s time to smarten up and aim for a Christmas release.

Goal For Next Week:
Step up the editing pace on Magickal Mayhem.

MARKETING:
*sigh* No Marketing. Yeah, I’m not even going there this time.

Goal For Next Week:
Submit two flash stories and one poem.

TECH & TRAINING:
Well, technically nothing new here, but I did get a message from Dropbox telling me the extra space I got when I bought my Lenovo (that I didn’t even know I had) was about to expire and what did I want to do about it. And then, just yesterday, I got a message from McAfee telling me my subscription was automatically renewed. You know, the subscription Staples screwed up so that I couldn’t access it so I paid for Avast instead. *sigh*

Goal For Next Week:
Figure out if I can make enough use out of Dropbox to warrant paying for it; figure out which virus protection I want to keep and get a refund for the other.

POETRY WEDNESDAY:
I shared an invented form, the Cascade, last week. It was a really interesting form to work with and I enjoyed working on my examples.

And I’m still contemplating a poetry anthology, or maybe that will be two – one of traditional forms, and one of non-traditional forms. Or maybe it’ll just be one anthology of all forms, and I’ll divide into two sections. Or maybe alternate traditional with non-traditional. So many poems to choose from.

Goal For Next Week:
Find a new form to share and figure out the anthology.

CRAFTING:
I finished the pansies on the first of my pillowcases and I picked out the colours for the border. Then I realized that the border is too faint to see in some places. I didn’t want to cut up the original transfer and mess it up for future use, so I traced the parts I’d need onto tracing paper, and then went over it (from the back) with a transfer pencil.

Then the next problem popped up. In embroidering the pansies, I altered the structural integrity of the pillowcase. In other words, I can’t just lay the transfer overtop and have everything line up properly. I’m going to have to do it one section at a time. So . . . I think I’ll embroider as much as the border as I can, then iron on the remaining one section at a time, embroidering as I go along.

Once again I did not get the sewing machine set up and working again, so I did not get my skirt and blouse finished. And now I’ve got some hemming from my father-in-law to add to the mix. Not to mention there are a couple of other skirts I’ll love to make for fall. *sigh*

I did make some progress on the cancer afghan, and I figured out a better colour scheme for it without having to rip out anything I’ve done so far. AND I visited the yarn shop and found some beautiful variegated yarn to make a sweater to go with my skirt (if I ever get it finished). So that will be my next TV needlework project.

Goal For Next Week:
Keep working on the pillowcase. Work on the cancer afghan. Get the sewing machine working and finish my skirt and blouse.

WHAT I’M READING:
Still haven’t updated my Goodreads account – I’m really going to hate myself when I finally get around to it.

Finished reading The Lost Girl Found. by Maisey Yates. It was an interesting blend of family and what the mind is capable of to protect itself. Loved the different personalities of the sisters and how even with the age differences they stayed close.

I actally went a couple of days without reading anything, but then yesterday I picked up Book Lovers by Emily Henry. This was recommended to me by my daughter and so far she hasn’t led me astray.

Goal For Next Week:
Suck it up and update my Goodreads account!

GOAL REVIEW:

No extra words, but I did get all my regular words done, and like I said earlier, it was a busy week so that’s not too bad. But I did try spreading things out a little more – a bit here and a bit there, and I think that’s how I managed to keep on top of everything.

No tech or training, but I confess I did spend a little more time on mindless games than I’d like. And I forgot all about the shredding I keep promising myself I’m going to do.

The craft room project is on hold until we’re ready for a dump run – there’s not much I can do in there until I’m able to get rid of the futon parts and some of the other bigger, useless stuff. I am hoping to take a load of donations to the thrift store this week – mostly clothes and books. Yes, that’s right. Books!

I should probably start writing down some of my plans so I can prioritize them. And on that note, I was considering going back to lists to help clarify what I wanted to get done with other aspects of my life. I’ll start with a master list of everything I need/want to get done and work from there. At the very least, maybe it’ll be a reminder of what I can be doing instead of playing mindless games.

Happy writing.

The Pond – Part 5

Very little changed for Izolda, save that now her free time was spent slipping away down to the caves by the river. If it was discovered what she was doing, it would not go well for either of them. Varnya was not part of the family and as such Izolda had no business in her company.

As for Varnya . . . Izolda’s family had little tolerance for outsiders. It was one thing for sons to learn the art of magic, but such a thing was not to be tolerated in daughters. Especially learning from outsiders who practiced what they considered the dark arts.

So Izolda went about her daily tasks as though nothing untoward was happening during her free time. She still did the tasks set her, no matter how menial, and she still spent time with her brother, Matyei, although he was developing his own interests. Around the fire at night she kept her silence, listening intently to the aunts and grannies as they gossiped and told their stories.

One night at the end of summer, when the leaves were just starting to turn, Izolda’s Aunt Anya, who rarely spoke, had news to share. “Svetlana from the village Bakal had news to share when I took her herbs from the garden,” she said.

While the some of the women looked at her expectantly, Izolda kept her attention on the stitching she was doing.

“They believe a Rusalka has infested the caves near the river.”

There were gasps from several women,

“What’s a Rusalka?” Izolda asked.

“It is an ancient evil,” Polina, another aunt, answered.

“They say she has already lured Dimitri, Sasha’s son, to his death. His body was found washed up on the riverbank – it could not have been an accident, he was a strong swimmer.”

Anya waited for the murmurs to die down before she continued. “Luka and Yuri swear they have seen a woman with long, dark, unbound hair near the river, where no woman should be.”

Izolda’s needle slipped, and pierced her thumb. With a gasp, she put her thumb in her mouth to suck the blood. Varnya had long, dark hair, and she never wore it bound up as most women did. But she was not this evil spirit, it was just an ugly coincidence.

“We must warn our men to stay away from the river,” Olga stated firmly. “Until this spirit has been dealt with.”

“But where did this Rusalka come from?” Izolda dared to ask.

Polina shrugged. “She could not have come from Bakla, they would have known if a woman killed herself or was drowned. It would have been easy for them to put her unclean spirit to rest. For her to be able to leave the place where she began means she must be very powerful.”

“Banishing a Rusalka is a difficult thing,” Ulyana, Izolda’s grandmother, said gravely.

“Yes,” Anya agreed. “It has been a long time since there has been need of a banishing ritual, but their babki is quite powerful.”

“They say if you can find her comb of fish bones and break it, you can break the curse she’s under,” said Yana.

“But first you would have to discover the cave where she lives,” pointed out Polina.

“It matters not where she came from or who she was,” Ulyana stated firmed. “She needs to be dealt with.”

Izolda wanted to ask more questions about the Rusalka, but held back. Speaking out would only draw attention to herself. But she could ask Varnya about it. Varnya who wore her long dark hair unbound, and lived in the caves near the river. Varnya who had a beautiful comb made of bone.