The Moorwitch

by Jessica Khoury

All it takes to change your fate is a bit of thread.

In the shadows ’neath your bed, She spins her spells with spider’s thread, Her hair is black, her eyes are red, And if she sees you, you are dead.

That is why I chose you. Because you were clever and fearless, a girl who wove like a moorwitch of old. I knew the moment I met you, twelve years ago, that you would be my finest investment . . .”

There’s always a secret, always a twist. There’s always a dragon that must be slain or tricked.

How curiously cruel you humans are, that you must first kill your gods before you worship them.”

There are whole paragraphs behind his eyes, and he gazes at me as if begging me to read them, to understand the secrets, explanations, fears, and hopes dammed up inside him.