Long fingers ran over the lines in Adam’s palm. “I see a very strong fertility line, a confirmation of your male prowess.”
Adam rolled his eyes at that silliness. “Really? What else do you see in my future?” He took a deep breath when Emil’s forefinger trailed all the way to his wrist, leaving behind a line of fire.
But he didn’t move, his muscles lax, as if Emil’s body heat rendered them useless. They were so close a kiss would have been only a heartbeat away. A sin away. But he couldn’t pull back, hypnotized by the steady movement of Emil’s hand and the scent that would lull Adam to sleep tonight.
“A tall brunet?” Adam asked, trying to joke about it, even if the suggestion was inappropriate.
Emil grinned, his touch still testing Adam’s virtue. “Yes! How did you know? Tall, handsome…” Emil’s expression faltered, the smile gone in favor of slack lips. Before Adam could have asked was this was about, Emil’s thumb pressed on the inner side of Adam’s wrist, as if feeling his pulse. “No, it’s not a man. A goat.”
Adam laughed. “Are you saying Leia wants to be my bride?”
Emil shook his head. “This goat walks on its hind legs. Follows you wherever you go.”
Dread danced down Adam’s spine like a single drop of ice cold water. This wasn’t funny anymore. He recalled the sound of hoofs, which followed him when he first arrived in Dybukowo. He tried to pull his hand away, but Emil dug his nail into Adam’s wrist so hard Adam twisted, yelping as fear clutched at his flesh. The smoke on Emil’s right arm seemed to swirl, penetrating the skulls tattooed there too. This wasn’t possible.
Emil met his gaze, his eyes bright, as if the forest in his eyes were on fire. “I know you’ve never been hungrier in your life, but on the night of the Forefathers’ Eve you will feast on four meats. Pork, venison, even wolf and fox! Don’t hold back, you’re finally back home. Here, all is yours, and you are king.” Emil made a clicking sound with his tongue, and it imitated the dreaded sound of clopping hooves, knocking Adam out of his stupor
Adam ripped his hand out of the hard grasp, and as he stood, frantic with the need to get away, he gave the table a hard shove with his hip, sending the empty glasses to the floor. His chair fell over, but before he could have ran outside, Emil looked up with a startled expression.
“What happened to you?” he asked, pointing to Adam’s sore wrist. Emil’s nails must have torn a bit of skin, because blood was slowly pouring around the uneven cut.
Adam stared at him with heat boiling over in his skull. “What is wrong with you? It happens every fucking time. I give you a chance, and you act like a psycho!”
Even the hurt in Emil’s eyes couldn’t make Adam go back on his words.
Emil licked his lips, his shoulders curling as if he wanted to appear smaller. “I— I’m sorry. Okay, I shouldn’t have suggested a handsome man. I get it, you’re not gay. I was just playing around. My last fortune telling after all.”
There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky when Adam had come here, so the rumble of thunder made him flinch. He didn’t know whether Emil really didn’t remember what he’d said or was just playing dumb, but this visit was over, regardless.
“Keep your word,” he said, backing away until he hit the door. “I need to go.”
Emil rose and approached Adam with hands in his pockets. “Take the shortcut. Looks like it’s gonna rain. Strange.”
As if Adam’s heart wasn’t rattling enough already. He barely choked out a goodbye and ran.
He burst out of the house to harsh wind that tried to force him back into Emil’s home, but he sped up, dedicating all his strength to trudging on. He broke into a jog as soon as he left Emil’s property behind, straight toward the heavy layers of clouds that turned the day into evening, despite it being still early.
He tried to convince himself that Emil had tried to prank him, like he had before, but Adam’s heart knew. It knew something wasn’t quite right. Lightning tore through the sky ahead, beyond the church that appeared so small in the face of the angry sky. He tried to tell himself the rhythmic thud behind him was thunder, but his heart wouldn’t be fooled.
It was hoof beats.
He sped up without looking back.
Chapter 8 - Adam
Adam picked up the bowl Mrs. Janina had hidden behind the besom and tossed its contents into the trash. The stuffed magpie, which had been moved to the tool shed, went there as well. The world spun around Adam as he stormed through the parsonage on a frantic search for items that were pagan in nature. There was a thin line between folklore and idolatry, and Adam had looked the other way far too long.
There were two more of those damn offerings of fresh produce cut up as if they’d been lovingly prepared for a child. Such blasphemy, and on church grounds at that!
Each window was like a portal to hell, so he obscured them all with curtains, expecting to hear that insistent clomping again. His mind kept telling him that Emil had freaked him out, that the hoof beats following him all the way to the parsonage must have been an auditory hallucination, brought upon by a suggestive atmosphere and too much advocaat, but his heart disagreed, and he found himself walking around the empty building with holy water and blessing each dark room.
He wished the pastor wasn’t away for the evening. His down-to-earth attitude would have helped Adam regain his composure, but the quiet walls offered no comfort, and he didn’t feel any less lost or confused by the time he put the holy water back into the cupboard.
Shame crept under his skin when he realized he’d used a religious rite to deal with what surely was just an anxiety attack. For so many years, Adam had struggled with desires he didn’t dare speak of, but Emil had seen right through him and used that knowledge to unsettle Adam’s spiritual equilibrium as if it were a game.
But as immoral as Emil’s behavior was, responsibility still lay in Adam’s choices, and he kept failing in his conviction of staying chaste in body and mind. What force had compelled him to participate in a divination, even if it was done for fun? He must have been out of his mind to agree to something that invited unseen powers into this world, something so much worse than the painful need for Emil’s flesh that Adam had wrestled with since he first came to Dybukowo.
Shadows followed him with invisible eyes, and he cursed his decision not to install Internet at his own cost. If he only had social media to scroll through, he could so easily switch off from the outside world and forget Emil’s grip. Forget how the day had turned into night within the span of just five minutes.
He couldn’t bear reading right now, and in a moment of absolute weakness, he left his bedroom and stormed to the rooms at the front of the house, wanting nothing more than to hear his Mom’s voice. He picked up the handset of the only working telephone on the premises and rested his hand on the cool side table, soothed by the steady beep in his ear. Adam used to know his home number by heart, but years of relying on the contact list in his cell phone had muddled his memory. As a consequence, he accidentally called a perfect stranger first, but as he started typing in the number he believed to be correct, the signal died.
Adam froze, his gaze meeting that of Jesus, who watched him from a picture on the wall. Adam’s head pulsed, as if his blood vessels were about to burst from shame, but when all lights went out, he dropped the handset as if it were a piece of hot iron.