Over the years, Maya had accumulated a fair share of tricks to deal with an upset stomach—lying down on her left side, using a warm compress, or pacing around the room at a deliberately slow pace. None were foolproof, and she wasn’t keen on taking over-the-counter remedies every single time.

  Right now, however, none of those options were even remotely possible.

  Sitting upright, Maya forced herself to take slow, steady breaths as she rested her head against what she hoped was the rough bark of a firm tree, but she refused to look. The thought of who or what else might be lurking behind her sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

  The V?lva sat in front of her, finishing up something in a wooden bowl as a miniscule explosion rumbled from it as she threw pitches of salt or something into it.

  “Drink,” she commanded, holding the wooden bowl before Maya’s face.

  The contents were pink and smelled unlike anything Maya knew. Her face scrunched up. She knew if she drank that, she would definitely throw up.

  “Drink!” the V?lva hissed, “or I swear I’ll force it down your cute little throat.”

  Maya shook her head, refusing to drink whatever the witch concocted. She was traumatised enough in her childhood from drinking whatever stomach medicine her parents forced on her.

  Though not like Maya had much say in that matter as the Draugr clenched her jaw at the sides, forcing it to open.

  “Shtop, I’ll do it mhyshelf!” Maya protested, and the zombie let go.

  With an upset grumbling, Maya stared at the brew, then at the witch again. She’s still looking…

  Maya tried to finish it in one go, hoping it would be done quickly, but it was as viscous as syrup. It barely moved down her throat, and the taste disgusted her the longer it took her to finish it. Every passing second the liquid remained in her throat, it burned away the lining of her mouth. After she finished the last of the contents, Maya threw away the bowl. Her entire body scrunching up in disgust.

  “That was absolutely horrible, yuck…” Maya stuck her tongue out. “I regret everything.”

  “You should,” the V?lva said collected, and Maya finally heard her voice—her true voice—without the strange dark undertone she projected into her mind.

  With a wave of her hand, green mist swirled over the witch’s fingers and mingled with the ground. The mist coiled around two tree trunks in front of Maya. The roots grew, expanded, and contorted, shaping a seat opposite to Maya with the other trunk serving as a coffee table.

  Stretching out her arms, the Draugr lifted her arm and placed her down on the chair, which looked much more impressive than Maya’s little trunk.

  The witch’s hand hovered over the wooden table. Out of the misty green swirl, forth came two porcelain cups and a steaming kettle from the Victorian Era—Maya recognised it from an old kettle her mother inherited from Maya’s great-grandmother.

  They looked very similar. Expensive-looking little things and very easy to break as Maya once found out.

  The witch reached for the small pouch slung around her hip. She suddenly held a knife in her hand, forcing Maya to push herself backwards but be stopped by a zombie.

  “Oh, relax,” said the witch, and produced some ginger and lemon out of it as well.

  She sliced the lemon, cut the ginger into tiny pieces, and put them into the kettle with some herbs. Her hands carefully hovered over the base of the kettle as she spoke a single, magical word. “Kenaz.”

  The water started to boil and in just seconds, the steam rose out of the tube. She was boiling them both some tea.

  “Drink.” She poured some into Maya's cup. Though seeing how Maya was still hesitant, the witch took a sip of hers. “It’s just some tea, relax. I’m not trying to poison you.”

  Yet.

  “I’m not a fan of ginger tea,” Maya grumbled. She shook her head in disgust. “Besides, I just drank that vile—”

  “Drink,” hissed the witch more forcefully. “Or,” her voice relaxed, though her wicked grin remained, “the Valkyrie gets her feathers plucked.”

  Maya grumbled some more, and the V?lva motioned with her head at the cup. Reluctantly, Maya took a sip, drinking it bit by bit for an agonising and silent five minutes before the witch spoke again.

  “How’s the stomach?” she asked, picking up her cup by the lip with her fingers.

  “Aside from the fact you threatened my friend? Better…” Maya drew circles on the side of her stomach. “What was in the other drink?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Clearly I do not want to if you say it like this.”

  “Smart.” The V?lva took another gulp and exhaled audibly and slumped her shoulders. “The job of a V?lva involves nastier things than one can stomach in a lifetime.” She blinked. “Sorry, no pun intended.”

  “Coward.” Maya gave her a grave expression. “Intend your puns.”

  Great. The witch groaned, rolling her eyes and craning her head. You’re that kind of person.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The witch groaned and craned her head back, annoyed. “An acquaintance of mine does them all the time. I’d turn her into a rabbit if I didn’t like her. Don’t you dare make any puns in my presence, you hear me?”

  “Or what?” Maya attempted a jesting grin. It fell short on the witch’s mad one.

  “Or I’ll pluck your Valkyrie’s wings.”

  “You already threatened me with that,” said Maya, unimpressed. “Besides, she has no wings. I believe you know that.”

  “I do, ergh,” the V?lva dismissed it with a wave of her hand and thought about something more wicked. “How about I’ll strip her naked. You wouldn’t want that, do you?”

  Maya’s eyes went wide. The V?lva believed she had struck a core. That is, until she saw Maya silently taking a sip from her tea and averting her gaze.

  Great… she’d actually like that.The witch sipped on her tea, trying to come up with yet another alternative.

  “You won’t actually hurt her, will you?” Maya asked, and the witch noticed genuine fear in her voice. She could use that.

  “Afraid I’ll do something to your girlfriend?” she asked with a glint.

  Maya silently nodded. Now the V?lva actually felt bad for her.

  “Geez, so she is your girlfriend?”

  “Does it matter?” Maya mumbled, deflated.

  “It should be. Why would she drag you out to this dangerous place if you felt unwell?”

  And how in Hel’s name did you bypass my barriers!? she wanted to add.

  Maya smacked her lips. “The thing is… I didn’t tell her.”

  The witch’s eyes glinted with curiosity under the hood. “Why? Tell me.”

  “I don’t want to–”

  “I’ll strip your girlfriend naked and won’t let you watch.”

  “You’re evil!”

  Trigger Warning: Eating Disorder and Body Dysphoria

  Maya fumbled nervously with her fingers, watching how the witch poured them another set of ginger tea as she tried to interrogate Maya about her private life.

  And the worst thing about it all? She didn’t know where Val had been taken to—and she grew a liking to ginger tea which actually helped with her stomach ache.

  Maya smacked her lips and continued to rub the side of her stomach.

  “How long will you keep me waiting?” The V?lva cupped her tea with her long, ashen-painted fingers. “Spill your problems girl.”

  “Must I?” grimaced Maya. “I don’t like talking about it.”

  “Yes,” replied the V?lva evilly and lounged back. “You two are in my clutches. Better start talking, or your girl. Gets. It.” she emphasised each word with a wicked chuckle.

  Maya grumbled and stared at her honey-coloured tea and counted the small leaves swimming in them, hating every second of this. The impatient tapping of the witch’s fingers reminded Maya that she couldn’t stall.

  “I have an eating disorder,” confessed Maya, which took the witch by surprise. She uncomfortably sat up properly in her seat. “It’s not the kind where I don’t eat, quite the opposite. I have an unstoppable urge to eat, no matter how full I get. It’s triggered a lot when I am under a certain amount of stress. It’s harrowing.”

  The V?lva pulled her hood further over her face as she listened to Maya’s problem. She didn’t expect this kind of conversation and it made her utterly uncomfortable that she triggered it.

  “I have had it since childhood,” Maya continued. “And controlling it is a nightmare. Dieting can make it worse and trigger it as well. School only makes it worse. I’m already weighing more than I’d like and honestly feel disgusted in my own skin.” Maya rubbed her shoulders. She was shaking. “I still compulsively buy snacks, I can’t cook to control my calorie intake, and Val’s cooking is just— too good to pass up on!”

  Maya took another gulp of the tea, trying to calm down her stomach from the agitation about her disorder. It churned again when she thought back to Val’s food and she suddenly felt hungry again. It riled her up to no end.

  “I have an unpleasant history of food and cooking, but Val’s cooking makes me feel comfortable, warm, and welcome. It’s good, too good, and she always looks so happy about it. I just can’t say no to seconds when she asks if I want more. Do you know how that feels? I can’t tell her to stop cooking for me because I like her cooking and I like her.

  “Today I had a sudden episode when I was sitting on my paper and she wasn’t back home as she promised. When I was done with my project, I’d finished my entire pantry!” Maya laughed desperately, unable to calm her emotions. Her stomach hurt. “I feel so bloated and just want to throw up on how sick and disgusted I feel.”

  Maya finished her tea. The jittering of her hands or the painful churning of her stomach didn’t stop. The uncomfortable tightness and disgust was as present as ever.

  “When she came back home, she made us sandwiches as an apology before we got into this mess. I like her—a lot. But I don’t want her to feel disgusted with me when she finds out about my problem or sees me fluctuating weight gain. She seems so happy when she cooks; I think it helps her recover. But I don’t know what to do or how to tell her. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “Honestly? No,” said the V?lva, sipping on her tea and momentarily turning away from Maya. She shook her head and put her tea back down. “I’m sorry I made you tell me all this. It was not right of me.”

  “It wasn’t,” affirmed Maya with a shudder. “Outside of my family, I’ve only ever shared this to a few other people. My best friend, Austin, and my pen pal, Fey. Haven’t heard from her for a while, though.” Maya paused and shook her head awake. “Anyway, I don’t appreciate what you did, but… it did make me feel better talking about it… So thanks for that, I guess?”

  The V?lva craned her back and pushed out her chest—flustering Maya a little, considering the bare middle line of her clothes. However, the witch didn’t do it consciously for any ulterior motive. She looked away to hide her shame over something else. “You can go,” she eventually said. “You should go.”

  Maya blinked, dumbfounded. “You’re letting us go?”

  Maya didn’t expect the witch to be so merciful. It was a saving grace. They shouldn’t have come in the first place, even if it was important for Val to recover her divinity.

  Maya was just a mortal, and Val was still not fully recovered. There was no way they could stand up against a witch and her undead army.

  The witch pointed a finger at Maya.

  “You,” she said with a deep, reverberating voice.

  “I’m letting you go, but not the Valkyrie. That’s all I’ll concede to you. The Valkyrie stays, or else.”

  The witch leaned closer. She exhaled another misty green breath with her eyes glowed menacingly like a toxic green plant. The ground was vibrating, prickling Maya’s skin, only for her to realise the entire cemetery was at an uproar.

  Dangerous magic was in the air with Fey at the centre. She was done being nice.

  “Or else you’ll die with her.”