Spells of Blood and Kin Read Online Free PDF Page B

but this one was important for the kernel of truth in it, or so Baba said: a witch could make such a doll and hand it down to her daughter or to her granddaughter. Once a month, around the full moon, such a doll could be of help.
    Baba’s letter ended with instructions and a charm, which Lissa read through a few times before sneaking down to the kitchen to pick up the supplies she would need.
    Back upstairs, she set the doll on the bedside table, crumbled a slice of bread before it, and sprinkled salt from the shaker.
    She felt almost embarrassed, even though she was alone: this was a new thing, this ritual, and she had only a folktale to suggest it would work. It wasn’t like Baba could have tested it in advance. Maybe Lissa was getting her hopes up over nothing … and maybe, even if it didn’t work, it would only be because Lissa herself didn’t know how to do it correctly.
    Before she could talk herself into a spiral of doubt, Lissa took a sharp breath and whispered the charm: By the white rider of dawn, by the red rider of day, by the black rider of night, I call to you: Iadviga Rozhnata, your scion desires your counsel.
    â€œHow long has it been?” said Baba from somewhere in the bottom of Lissa’s brain. Her voice was a cold wind.
    â€œThis is the fourth day,” said Lissa. “There was the funeral, and then Stella came, and the lawyer—”
    â€œAnd on what business do you desire my counsel?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Lissa. She found she was crying again. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and wiped that upon her skirt. “I don’t know.”
    â€œ Vnuchka, I am not to be called idly. Ask counsel.”
    Baba sounded a bit lecturing, Lissa thought, like always. And very far away.
    â€œWhere are you? What’s it like?” Lissa said. “Can you counsel me about that?”
    â€œI may not speak of it.”
    â€œI always thought that story was just a story. I didn’t know you’d be waiting.…”
    Baba was silent.
    â€œI’m going to make up some spells for a few of the ladies,” Lissa said. “Will they all still come to me … will they trust me to do it right?”
    â€œYou have learned some of my trade,” Baba said. “They will have no cause to complain, so long as you remember your lessons.”
    Not quite the wholehearted endorsement she’d been hoping for.
    Three questions. Lissa bit down on the tip of her tongue to stop herself from saying anything careless.
    Finally, she settled on, “Was there anything you left unfinished?”
    Baba did not answer quickly. Her silence felt alive and dark and chilly. Lissa began to wonder if this was another forbidden question or if she had somehow made Baba angry.
    â€œMaksim Volkov,” Baba said. “In life, I was sworn to help him. In death, I may do so no longer. If he comes to you, know that he is kin .”
    â€œKin? You mean we’re related to him somehow?”
    But silence was her only answer. Baba was gone. When Lissa said the charm again, nothing happened. She shook the doll. The eyelids fluttered open and shut; one of them stuck higher than the other, giving the thing an expression of drunkenness.
    Lissa carefully jiggled it back into place and set the doll in her lap. She folded the letter up small and zipped it into a pocket of her purse.
    â€œIf you can hear me,” she said, “I’ll talk to you again as soon as I’m allowed, next month. I love you. If you’re there.”
    When she came downstairs, Stella looked at her face and went to hug her again.
    â€œI’m fine,” Lissa said, backing into the banister and rubbing at her eyes.
    â€œAnother delivery came,” Stella said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
    â€œWhat was it?”
    Stella didn’t answer but led her into the dining room, where a box sat on the table.
    â€œIt’s the urn,”