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An excerpt from 'Hag's Breath: A Collection of Witchcraft and Wickedness.'

This comes from the first story, ‘Sisters.’ Enjoy.

“Then what?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Then I leave you to die where you sit, dangling over my head like an especially annoying fly. It won’t be the long wait you imagine it will, once the spell is removed. It will be a matter of hours before your true age catches up with you. Let’s face it, Agnes, you are dead already, beneath the magic that holds you up. It is simply a matter of me harvesting the few useful parts that remain and preserving them before they rot, too,”

“And the parts of me that are no use to you? What of them?”

“The forest is my walls and my roof; I will throw them out, to the animals and insects that inhabit it. You will not be there for long,”

Agnes nodded in appreciation, despite her despair, “That is something, at least; to know that I will carry on in part, after I am gone,”

“The poor, cursed creatures that devour you will pay for their greed, no doubt. What is it people say? Evil begets evil,” Sussurata gave her most enigmatic smile.

“Certainly true of you and your mother,” Agnes shot back.

She regretted it instantly. With barely a flick of her wrist, Sussurata beckoned Agnes’ tongue to leave her mouth. A strange, elastic feeling assailed Agnes’ throat. Her tongue pulled taut, stretched impossibly, followed by a loud snap. Her mouth filled with blood, searing pain burning her throat and neck.

“I told you not to mention her again. Now you will live out what is left of your sorry existence in silence,”

Agnes watched in horror as her tongue dangled, pulsing and vivid, from Sussurata’s hand,

“I can put this to even better use, now that it is so fresh,” Sussurata said, adding thoughtfully, “perhaps I should just help myself while you are still breathing?”