The Witch tilts her head at me. “Do you feel your time has been wasted, child?”
“No,” I say, without needing to think about it. “No, I don’t.”
The Warlock’s hard gaze meets mine but he says nothing.
“I admit, I feel as if I should reward the girl for figuring it out, and I do owe you for the burgoo,” the Witch says. “So I’ll offer you a new deal, Knight. It is almost your birthday, after all. I will let the boy stay here, cured and perfectly healthy, but you have to take his place to balance out the discrepancy.”
“Or?”
“Or I can help you send the boy back to his place in time, before the solstice. You get to stay here, because he’s grounded once more in the past, where the memory of you belongs.”
“But either way, I lose him,” he says through gritted teeth.
“In a sense, yes. But don’t we all have to lose ourselves a little over time? That’s life.”
More silence.
He can’t seriously be considering her offer, can he? He is. He’s thinking about it.Don’t make the same mistake again!I want to scream. It’s the clear path in my head. But maybe it’s not so clear in his how he can learn to live with himself as he is.
At last, the Warlock gives me one last glance and faces the Widow Witch. He attempts a deep breath, but his chest barely moves. “You’re right, Okolona. I can’t undo my mistakes anymore.” The low grit in his voice has lost some of its edge. “But I can make a better choicenow. I’ve already started. It will take time and care, but I’m going to save your garden.”
The Witch actually stutters. “Impossible. Your magic is gone, whatever help it gave your own plants—gone.”
He nods. “I’m doing it by hand. Small steps, first. Some seeds, warm-season plants and vegetables that will start strong. I’ll help refresh the soil, feed the land what it’s missing. You won’t see the benefit for a while. It’s the slow way. But the time is worth it.”
“It’sold. There’s no life left in it to bring back.”
“You’d be surprised how well an old thing can live if it gets a second chance.”
I’m awestruck. Proud.
“This wasn’t a part of your Farewitch’s bargain, Knight,” she sneers. “How does this benefit you?”
He manages a shrug. “Consider it a kindness, no price. I’ll show you how to maintain it, and we’ll work together when I visit. One season to the next. Those hounds shouldn’t be your only source of conversation.”
“No price?”
“One price,” I jump in. He might give away his effort for free, but not me. “On top of helping my mom and removing his curse, you have to stop terrorizing the Holler every spring. Or any season,” I add for good measure. “No more stealing folks, bad ones or not.”
What feels like an hour passes even though I know it’s just a few brief, crucial seconds. At last, she heaves a great sigh.
“All right, children. Agreed.”
My chest swells but I’m not sure I’m breathing, and my hands start to shake. I want to cry. Or laugh. Grab the Warlock and kiss him. Again. We did it.
“First of all, your”—the Witch glances at the Warlock’s fading skin, which has stretched from his fingers up along his wrists now—“corporealpredicament is because of the spell I used to bring the boy here. It’s not a curse. So you’ll need my spellwork to undo it.”
I slump back down in my seat. “What?”
She waves a hand at me, like she knows I’m about to raise hell. “Don’t insult me, children. I leave curse magic for other Witches. My magic is neither that simple nor fragile enough to break.” She sniffs. “Curses always start to smell, anyway.”
Somehow, the Warlock looks even more sickly. “Stop with the riddles, Okolona.”
“My spell simply created an imbalance, and there’s no cure for that exceptbalance. The boy must go back to where he came from.”
The Warlock shakes his head. “Why in God’s name are you only telling me this now?”
She gives him a warning glance. “Why indeed?”
