The burly wizard brought the salt grains to his nose and sniffed them, then touched them with the tip of his tongue. "It's just ordinary salt, exactly the same as the salt in this shaker. There's nothing unusual about it."
"I see. I understand now," came a soft female voice.
It was the witch who had remained silent all this time.
She stood in the darkest corner of the kitchen, dressed in a black cloak whose hood concealed most of her face, revealing only a pale chin.
She was a wizard who specialized in curses.
"That finger used genetic material as a medium." Her voice was quiet, yet every word seemed carved into the ears of everyone present. "Through it, it imposed a curse on the level of the soul. As for the content of the curse... it was likely something along the lines of 'exchanging flesh and salt.'"
She walked over to the stove, extended a pale finger, and lightly tapped the edge of the salt shaker.
"But this isn't a complete exchange. If it were, the victim would instantly turn into a pile of salt. That would be cleaner. But the designer of this curse... or rather, this anomaly itself, did not want a quick death. It wanted torment."
Her gaze shifted toward the doorway. Karl's view was blocked by Benjamin, so he could not see the expression beneath her hood, but the boy's body still shuddered involuntarily.
"That was why it created an 'incomplete exchange.' A vague and unstable correspondence was established between the victim's flesh and salt. While they were alive, the exchange was partial and reversible. Their kidneys would begin turning into salted meat, yet could barely continue functioning. Their bodily fluids would begin becoming salty, yet their blood could still flow."
"And after they