Page 4 of A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison

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A fter the disaster with Nori, Bisma kept away from town for some time.

She sent Luna and Mei to drop off potions and poisons, and Azalea to pick up the things they needed. Nori went with Luna on one of the occasions; the little girl recovered quickly, even if Bisma had not.

The very same evening as the near catastrophe, Nori was back to laughing and playing with Deeba, the two-year-old shrieking with glee as Nori tickled her, while Bisma replayed the moment again and again in her mind: the startling speed with which Nori had hurtled toward the ground and the riotous pound of Bisma’s heart as she had run toward her in vain.

She thought also of Xander, how he had saved Nori. The concern in his eyes. How he had run toward her without hesitation. Why had he done so?

Bisma did not tell anyone what happened. She would not worry her sisters, and other than them she had no one else to tell. She was their baji. They had faith in her. They believed she would protect them, take care of them.

Even if she was not worthy of such faith, she would not break it.

Bisma recalled how when she was younger, her bajis always seemed so sure, so calm. They were never frightened or worried, so now, even if Bisma was not as confident as her bajis had been, she would at least uphold the pretense.

She knew how much comfort it gave.

But as the days passed, Bisma still felt frayed. She felt heavy, burdened. Each night, the scene replayed in front of her, though this time with a horrific end: Nori falling from that perilous height and colliding with the unforgiving ground, her little body crumpling instantaneously into a gruesome breakage of bones and blood.

To distract herself, Bisma spent time out in her garden. The women of the village sometimes left her orders for poisons in the earth at the edge of the Enchanted Forest, which the Forest then delivered to her through various means: either through woodland creatures, which resulted in little teeth marks on the paper, or through the soil, which left the letters damp and streaked with dirt.

The letters were always deposited in her garden, waiting for her; the Forest was very helpful in that regard. She knew, also, that the Forest only sent her the letters it wished for her to receive, otherwise she would have an abundance of hatred to sort through daily.

While the feel of dirt beneath her nails and the smell of fresh plants did ease her worries, she felt terribly lonely, like vines were tightening around her, rooting her in place.

After a morning spent making poisons and an afternoon spent delivering them, she returned home, ready to lift her feet and rest. The girls were all doing their own thing: Deeba was napping, Nori was playing with the Forest trees, Azalea was working on embroidery, and Luna was reading poetry.

Mei was frying sesame dessert buns, the smell of the sweet dough filling the treehouse with a delectable scent. (Out of all of them, Mei exhibited signs of being a witch: her skills in the kitchen were impressive for anyone, let alone a nine-year-old.)

The evening gave them these quiet moments as they all recharged on their own before colliding back together at dinnertime. Bisma gave her sisters kisses and snagged a hot sesame bun before heading up the winding stairs to her room.

There, she took off her sweater and pulled her hair loose from its braid. Looking around, she rearranged some of the flowers in their vases, then refreshed the dried lavender hanging from the ceiling with new sprigs.

Suddenly, the room felt too small, too quiet. A strange suffocating feeling overcame her. Her throat tightened. It felt like there was something inside her that needed to get out, but she was too tired to go down to her garden and use her magic.

Without thinking too much about it, Bisma took out a piece of paper and quill and ink, then sat down on the floor, crossing her legs. She set the paper down and smoothed it across the wooden floors. Perhaps writing would help. Tapping the quill against her lips, she felt the worn feather end brush against her skin.

Then she stopped.

She had no one to write to. Bisma couldn’t write to Eva or any of her other bajis.

Still, she felt like she needed to write, to somehow fill the echoing emptiness of her solitude with words, even if they were only her own. She was no quill-witch—a master of words—but even so, she put the quill to paper and wrote.

I don’t know why I am writing this, or to whom, I just know that I am so lonely I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts. I am afraid, and perhaps if I write what I feel down onto paper, I can expunge these dreadful feelings from within me.

I wish Eva didn’t have to leave. I know I am eighteen, that it is time for me to be Baji, but doesn’t the Forest understand that I am not capable? How can it entrust these girls to me? I am ashamed of what happened. Nori might have been lost to all of us, only because of me.

What should I do? What can I do? My eyes well with tears as I write this. I know I have no choice but to carry on, and I will do my best, but what if my best is not good enough?

What a stupid question. I know my best is not good enough, for I am no good.

Setting her quill down, Bisma stared down at the paper. She did not want to read what she had written so she folded the paper in half, then into quarters, then into eighths, until it was a little crooked square.

Where to put it? She did not plan on sending it, for she had no one to send it to, and she did not want to leave it lying around in case one of her sisters got their hands on it. Bisma slipped the square into a gap in a vine around one of her windows.

Which begged the question: why write at all? Was it not futile, fruitless? What was the point?

But Bisma found the act cathartic, as if by writing the words down, some of the overwhelming emotion from within her had been removed. It felt … soothing.

Then she heard a howling gale from outside. Bisma furrowed her brows, alarmed. Such wind only came when the Forest was upset. She shot to her feet, about to investigate when she heard a cry from below.

‘Baji! Come quick!’ Luna screamed. ‘It’s Mei. She’s been poisoned!’