How to Save a Witch

Anke scurried to the stake when the soldiers left, allowing the charred bones to be stolen for amulets. Nobody was interested in another superstitious whats-her-name; she, without looking, groped around in the cooled coals and, burning herself, found by touch a single hot ember.

Found, put it in her mouth, then filled her palms full of coal chips and hastened away from the square. Unseen in the dark alley, she squeezed her palms together and blew into them.

And then ⁠— as promised ⁠— the blackness in her hand grew alive, and a kitten, yawning, opened its eyes.

Green, like Auntie had.

A short story author, currently residing in Lithuania.