Chapter Seventeen
Theysharedalook,thenwithanalmostimperceptiblenodfromKade,Florianlookedbackintothedoorwayandsteppedthrough.
Though the interior had been completely inscrutable from the outside, the moment Florian passed through the threshold, light seemed to burst from nowhere to illuminate the space. It was far bigger than it looked from the outside, though still cozy in size. It looked like a sitting room with a low table in the center, two wooden chairs on the side nearest him, and a large, plush armchair on the other. All of the walls were covered in shelves, and each shelf was full to bursting with books and trinkets of a dizzying assortment. The only part of the wall not covered in shelves was home to a fireplace crackling with warmth; but even there, the mantle was covered with all sorts of plants and some jewelry, as well as a tapestry hanging on the wall above.
“What do you see?”
He heard Kade’s voice distantly behind him, as if he were underwater. Whatever prevented them from seeing inside must have blocked out the noise, too, though looking back Florian could see Kade clearly.
“A little cottage,” Florian replied, almost laughing. Though he had only heard this creature described as a hag or a witch, her home didn’t seem to reflect the intimidating air of the words; if anything, it was kitschy and maximalist, almost cute.
Kade seemed to steel himself, then resolutely stepped through behind Florian. If he was surprised at the appearance of the home, it didn’t show on his face—only his eyes flickered around the room, as if taking note of everything he could, but he stayed stock still next to Florian.
“Please, sit,” the same raspy female voice came. It sounded like it was coming from the armchair, but when Florian looked, he couldn’t quite focus on it—it was as if his eyes were being pushed away. He had felt the same when Jerah had shown him invisibility.
The witch was hiding from them. But, after all, they were strangers in her home—he supposed that he could understand wanting to watch them first.
“Sure,” Florian said, and he sat down in one of the wooden chairs. Kade lingered, standing behind him, but Florian gestured for him to sit as well. His expression was more suspicious than ever, but slowly he too lowered himself onto the chair.
“I hoped you’d find your way here. It’s so nice to have visitors,” the voice came once more; and this time when Florian looked, she was sitting in the armchair as if she had been there the whole time. She was tall, Florian thought as his eyes traveled upward to meet her face, easily seven feet at the least. Her skin had a pallid gray undertone to it, as pale as if it had never seen the sun. Her hair was dark and greasy, hanging like a thick curtain down one side of her face. She had a large nose and a stern brow, but... she wasn’t ugly in the way that he had expected, being a hag and all. She just looked a bit otherworldly, but so did a lot of things in the Veil; and she didn’t look particularly scarier than anything else that he’d seen so far. His heart had been pounding at first, but it was starting to slow a little bit now. He was utterly out of his element, but at least she wasn’t something out of a horror movie.
Her smile widened as she met his gaze—her lips stretched just a little further than seemed natural, and her large eyes were a deep gleaming purple, which he hadn’t seen before. He felt Kade tense next to him, but kept his attention on the hag.
“Thank you for having us,” he said.
“I’ve been expecting you for a long time, Changeling Prince,” she said; and with a wave of her hand, a tea kettle and three cups swooped down above the fireplace and settled onto the table between them. “In fact, I think the last time I had visitors was when your father and the shifter kings visited me.”
“Well,” Florian said slowly, his smile faltering. “Um, my name is Florian, and I’m technically a king. Jerah passed away about... two months ago, now.”
“Is that so?” the witch said, her eyebrows raising slightly. “My condolences.”
“Thank you. Um, that’s kind of why we came,” Florian continued. “We had... questions, I guess, and we weren’t sure who else might have answers, other than Jerah.”
“Forgive me,” she said abruptly, her head swinging to look at Kade. “I don’t think I’ve met your... friend, here.”
Florian looked at Kade, who was expressionless under the witch’s gaze. His back stiffened, chin tilting up before he spoke.
“I’m Kade, son of Kallik,” he said slowly. “Heir to the wolf kingdom.”
“Thank you, son of Kallik,” she said, bowing her head slightly—whether in greeting or respect, Florian was unsure. “I remember your father well. He was quite dedicated to Jerah, if I recall correctly. I see some things don’t change across the generations.”
Florian stifled a laugh; though he supposed there were some similarities, Kallik and Jerah probably had not beenquiteas close as he and Kade were.
“I believe this is yours,” she continued, and with a flick of her wrist, Kade’s sword appeared in her hand. A sharp intake of breath was the only sign of Kade’s surprise at its sudden appearance; and when she set it down on the table and gestured for him to take it, he grabbed it by the hilt. First he drew Florian’s sword from its sheath, handing it back to him, then resheathed his own sword with a look of obvious relief.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low. His eyes remained on the sword as he said it.
“Of course,” she replied. “I have little use of it. Just a simple trick to… disarm any potentially violent visitors. I’m sure you can understand.”
The witch looked back at Florian, and her eyes flickered to his backpack. “And… I sense you have something of mine.”
“Something of…? Oh,” Florian said, blinking in confusion before he remembered that hedidhave something that belonged to her. He pulled his backpack forward and fished out the pendant. “Do you mean this?”
“Yes. I gave this to your father, the Winter King, when he visited,” she said, reaching for it. Her arms werelong, far longer than they should have been even for her height—she didn’t even need to lean forward in her chair to reach out and take it from where Florian held it up. “You had hoped to use it to get here, perhaps?”
“I thought maybe we could. But I couldn’t figure out how to recharge it,” Florian admitted.
“Well, thank you for keeping it safe all these years,” she said; and after looking down at the gleaming purple stone, she pocketed it. Florian started to protest, but closed his mouth before the words could escape. He could sense Kade’s lingering nervousness, and he had no idea what might or might not offend her; they needed to stay in her good graces if she were to help them at all. If she wanted her necklace back, fine—not that he could use it, anyway.
