The Unveiled Misery.

The Witch's Lightfinger Son 3

THE UNVEILED MISERY.

The hall fell silent as the elderly witch, Ogiezen rose from her seat. She looked at Imatitikwa with a mysterious smile before motioning to one of the women standing beside her.

“Bring her another piece,” she ordered.

The woman approached carrying a small wooden plate. On it lay a piece of meat that looked ordinary, yet something about it made Imatitikwa uneasy. 

The old woman who had brought her to the mansion stepped forward.

“Imatitikwa, the first piece of meat you ate was free,” she explained.

 “But this second one must be paid for.”

Imatitikwa's heart began to pound.

“Paid for? What do you mean, Mother?” she asked nervously.

The old woman leaned closer.

“Everything in this world has a price. You cannot continue receiving gifts without giving something in return.”

A wave of fear swept through Imatitikwa. Her thoughts immediately turned to her seven sons, whom she had left sleeping at home.

“What must I give you?” she asked.

The witches exchanged mysterious glances, but none answered her question directly.

“Eat the meat first,” the old woman commanded.  

“You will understand everything in due time.”

Imatitikwa stared at the meat. She remembered how the first piece had led her into this strange world, and she feared that eating another might bind her to a terrible agreement.

Nevertheless, she could not openly refuse the witches.

She slowly reached for the meat and pretended to eat it. However, when the women looked away, she secretly concealed the piece inside her palm.

She chewed nothing, swallowed nothing, and hoped nobody had noticed her deception.

“Have you finished?” the old woman asked.

“Yes, Mother,” Imatitikwa replied, forcing a smile.

The old woman studied her face for a moment before nodding.

“Very well. You may return home, but remember that a debt cannot remain unpaid forever.” 

Those words followed Imatitikwa as she left the mansion.

The journey home seemed longer than before. She held her closed palm tightly, afraid that the mysterious meat might disappear or begin speaking as the first one had done.

When she finally arrived home, her children were asleep.

She hurried into the kitchen, found an iron basket with a cover, and carefully placed the meat inside. She closed the basket and hid it above the fireplace.

Exhausted and frightened, she went to bed, wondering what terrible price the witches would demand from her.

The following morning, Imatitikwa called all seven of her sons together. 

“My children,” she said sternly,

 “there is something I want you all to remember. Never take or eat any

 meat from that iron basket above the fireplace. No matter how hungry you become, do not touch it.”

Her sons looked at one another in confusion.

“Mother, why must we not eat it?” one of them asked.

Imatitikwa hesitated.

“Because I said so,” she replied. “Promise me you will obey.”

They all promised.

But Imatitikwa did not know that the mysterious meat had already set something terrible in motion.

Far away, inside the witches' mansion, the old woman stood before Ogiezen.

“She has taken the meat home,” the old woman reported.

Ogiezen smiled coldly.

“Then let us .see how long she can protect her children from the price she owes us.”

The witches burst into strange laughter.

And in Imatitikwa's kitchen, above the dying embers of the fireplace, the iron basket began to tremble.

TO BE CONTINUED...