He dropped his voice and took a step closer to the crowd. They huddled together, pressing back, away from the woman’s cage. Mia did not trust herself; had she understood him? Catarina was dead, but there was yet another witch?
“I must warn you: There may be more than one. Like snakes, when you find one, you find a nest. The work will be dangerous, and some of you may suffer the wrath of these witches as I work. But build your house upon the rock, my friends.”
“How will we know?” Bjorn called out. Mia pulled back to look on him, shocked he had spoken. She saw Stefan at the edge of the crowd too, his face frozen after seeing Bjorn ask a question like this.
“How will we know the work of a witch?” Bjorn asked again.
“Do children fall ill for no reason? Do they often die?” Bastion asked. Mia’s heart rose in her chest, her throat tightening. No, she thought. Alma’s illness could never be the work of another woman.
Bastion saw her react, and he paused, his eyes resting on her. Mia looked away.
“And men, what about you? Do good men find themselves unable to bear the temptations of a woman who is not their wife? Do good men ruin themselves with carnal lust? Is the marriage bed kept pure, or is it defiled? All these, plus rotting crops, injuries that will not heal, accidents and misfortunes, all these are signs of a witch among you. Go, then, to your homes, and tonight pray that your eyes may be opened. Think on sadness and trials you cannot find explanation for. And men, you must consider what evils you may have done, even if only in your heart, for these may be the work of witches. Go then, and tomorrow night return, for my work must begin with great earnest.”
Mia glanced back up. Bastion studied her as he spoke one last time.
“I will save the innocent and set the sinners free. Your time for deliverance has come. Do not be afraid.”
The woman in the cage stood up as far as she could, with straight legs and a bent back, and snapped her teeth at anyone who stared too long. She urinated as she did this, letting the urine flow down her leg, creating a path through the dirt that clung to her legs. She caught Mia’s eye and gnashed her yellow teeth at her. Mia screamed, burying her head in Bjorn’s vest again.
“Do not be afraid, my child.”
Mia looked up. Bastion stood in front of Bjorn, Bastion’s hand resting on her shoulder like that of a god. His power buzzed through the fabric of her sleeve, the warmth of his palm spreading across her body. His cold eyes met hers, and goose bumps rose on her flesh.
Bastion spoke to Bjorn, leaning his head at an angle as if to keep his words private.
“From your question, my friend, I am guessing that you are perhaps afflicted?”
Bjorn could not answer. Mia felt his body freeze.
“Our daughter is often sick,” Mia said. “But I attend Mass every day and love God. I try to please Him.”
Bastion nodded, not looking at her. He removed his hand from her shoulder and laid it instead on Bjorn’s. Mia’s shoulder turned cold, colder than before, all warmth lost.
Bjorn took a deep breath. “Is it true? A witch can do these things? I’ve never heard this before.”
Bastion grinned. “Hearing does not make a thing true. Even our belief does not make a thing true. Truth is actually quite indifferent to us. She cares little for what we think, and even less for what we think we know.”
Mia wanted to speak but pressed her lips together. Bjorn knew how sick Alma was. He could get this man to help her if he wanted to. She had to make him want to. She had to be a good wife right now.
“A witch can make a good man fall?” Bjorn asked. “She can make him suffer and sin, do things against his pure Christian will?”
“That is precisely their method, my friend.”
“Alma,” Mia whispered to Bjorn. “Ask him.”
“Alma? This is your daughter, yes?” Bastion seemed concerned.
Mia opened her mouth to explain, but Bjorn shushed her. “You say the Devil is responsible for Catarina’s murder, and her husband’s?”
Bastion watched Mia, frowning. “We should not discuss this in front of your sweet wife. Let us meet tonight at the church, with Father Stefan. We will take refreshment, and I will teach you what I know. My friend, if you have been troubled, you will be troubled no more.”
Mia’s stomach growled, catching Bastion’s attention. He betrayed nothing in his expression; she was not shamed. Mia smiled at him, and a slow smile spread across his face in response.
Chapter Eleven