Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore #1) - K.A. Merikan Page 0,38

touch a priest.”

“Your wit is getting sharper every day,” Adam said and rose to his feet, because there was no point in resisting.

“What was that?” Mrs. Janina asked and took the plate with Adam’s unfinished cake.

“I said I’ll be on my way then,” Adam said through gritted teeth.

Father Marek smiled and grabbed another piece of cake. “There we go. Problem solved. Bring some milk from Mrs. Mazur while you’re at it.”

Adam kept his face straight despite fuming on the inside. “Are we not afraid Emil’s influence will turn the milk sour?”

The pastor nodded. “Good point. Pick it up on the way back.”

***

Adam had avoided Emil since he’d caught him attempting to steal the monstrance, but there was no backing out of this. He’d intended to go dressed as he was for lunch—in a black dress shirt with a priest’s collar, but the late May heat made him change his mind, and he settled on denim knee-length shorts and his nice white T-shirt with the 18th-century map of Warsaw printed at the front. He usually wore it when he didn’t want to stand out as a clergyman, as it transformed him into a young man like many others. If he was to talk Emil into anything, he should try doing so as a friend rather than a priest.

A black cat watched him from the side of the dirt road, but as Adam walked past it, the animal stretched and followed him with a meow.

A smile tugged on Adam’s lips, and he scooted down, gently sliding the back of his hand along the cat’s back.

“Are you Emil’s familiar?” he asked and shook his head at Mrs. Golonko’s fit.

The Church saw divination as dangerous, because flirting with the occult had the potential of inviting demons into the world, but while Adam hadn’t known Emil for very long, he suspected the man didn’t believe in anything at all. Which meant that if he was to try influencing Emil, he’d have to use nonspiritual arguments. Like the fact that with all the black magic gossip about him, fortune telling was the last thing he should be doing.

Unless, of course, Emil didn’t just lie to people for the fun of it and practiced some kind of magic. Adam had no idea how he could deal with that.

The black cat walked him all the way to Emil’s homestead but skirted away when Jinx rose his massive head. Tied to one of the fruit trees with a longe, the huge stallion whinnied in greeting and raised one of its front legs several times before he returned to grazing.

Waving at him for no reason at all, since the animal couldn’t possibly understand the gesture, Adam took in the property. He’d seen many old homes since he’d come to Dybukowo, but Emil’s could easily be a stand-in for a witch’s house in some historical drama. Embraced by the dense woods descending from nearby slopes, it featured a thatched roof and small windows with blue lines painted along their frames. Large enough to house three generations of the same family, it had its own orchard, a barn, and a set of other buildings. Everything was in good working order, especially considering there was only one person living here.

It took Adam a while to get the courage to knock, but no one answered the door.

So that was that.

Adam was about to leave, but he heard a laugh somewhere farther behind the house, and he couldn’t help but succumb to the sin of curiosity.

The trees beyond the border of the homestead beckoned him with their bright green leaves, so he went, listening to the voice that resembled Emil’s. A small footpath led from a second gate to the property, and he followed it, with his heart beating slightly faster when a woodpecker drilled into a tree somewhere above. The green-and-brown expanse ahead stretched forever, engulfing him with its fresh yet earthy scent and gentle bird song.

And the aroma of smoke and wood he associated with Emil? He could sense that too.

But the image he saw once he stood on the top of a low slope made him forget why he’d come here in the first place.

Emil, naked as the day he was born, stood knee deep in a crystal-clear stream, which flowed so fast it splashed his thighs.

“Come on, Leia! Don’t make me freeze my balls off,” Emil yelled at a black goat scrambling on a rock submerged in the shallow water.

Adam entered a surreal world where the handsomest of men lay himself