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“You don’t say.” I marched down a rocky path across the yard toward the porch. The stairs creaked beneath my steps, and I knocked, praying I hadn’t made a mistake and picked the wrong house. Didn’t need to upset a witch tonight.
I took another glance around, but there was no sign of my pursuer.
When the door groaned open, I spun to face Vanore, the witch I’d met in Darkwoods who’d promised to help and whose smile now offered me hope. I breathed a sigh of relief. Her expression morphed into one of pity, but I didn’t care. If that made her want to aid me, then yep, she could feel sorry for me until the cows came home.
The swirled tattoos across her cheeks and brow creased when she smiled again, revealing two golden canine teeth. Her skin was deeply sun-kissed and her eyes were as dark as tar, matching her dreadlocks. She gripped the waist of her mauve dress, her sleeves long and ruffled.
“Ey, Elliana girl, thought you’d break our bargain.” She spoke with a burr where the letter ‘r’ trilled each time she pronounced it. She reached out, taking my elbow, her grip iron strong. “Let’s get inside.” She stared at something behind me. “Nothing good comes of lingering in doorways.”
When I turned to look behind, she dragged me into her home and slammed the door shut. I should have panicked, but I was desperate, ready to trust anyone who offered salvation. And in the grander scheme of things, I’d take my chances with the witch with a softness in her eyes.
A strong smell of spices and burnt wood permeated the air. To my right lay a battered brown sofa in the sitting room. Jars of various herbs and a large bowl brimming with white and black feathers sat on the coffee table. Curtains with holes covered the windows and only one remained open with the single candle on the sill. More candles littered the fireplace mantle, though I doubted it ever got cold enough in Tritonia to require a fire.
“Nice place.” My gaze settled on the dead crow on the floor near the foot of the table, its legs in the air. It was bigger than my foot. Was it dinner or for a concoction or some good luck charm?
“Me mama left the home to me, and her mama to her. Been in the family for five generations, and now this place is mine.” Her voice deepened, and I turned to find her rummaging through a tall wicker basket for dirty laundry, but I somehow suspected she used it for other purposes.
“No man getting their stinking hands on me home neither!” She snarled the wordman,and I figured she had unresolved issues. But that wasn’t my problem because I hadn’t met any men in years, beyond what I remembered as a child about my dad and the people he’d visit to make his deals. He was a grand thief, renowned for his abilities in Darkwoods realm. I’d never known my mother, and he’d refused to speak about her. But Dad would take me on every heist, using me as his excuse for trespassing on anyone’s property if anyone caught him. I would fake-cry so people would think he was settling an upset young kid who had wandered onto their property. But most of the scum he’d dealt with would rip him off when it came to payment. That was a lifetime away now because when I’d been eight years of age, he’d made the grave mistake of stealing from a witch, and my life had changed forever. He paid with his life, and I was thrown into a tower, kept in there by a stone guardian. And not a day went by when I didn’t think about the day when I would hunt the witch down and make her pay.
Vanore made a clicking sound with her tongue, and I refocused on her.
“Most men are bastards,” I added to fill the silence.
“Ey, you right there. They decide with their dick first, then the consequences of what they did comes later.” She glanced over. “How old are you? Fourteen or fifteen? Old enough to hear such talk.” Diving back into the wicker basket, she sighed.
“I’m sixteen.” Most days I felt like a child who had no clue about life beyond the things I read in books, but now I was enjoying Vanore’s company and her interacting with me as if I were normal. “Sounds as if you’ve met some bad men.” I strolled over to the cabinet and studied the array of tattered books stacked on top of each other. Most had missing spines or covers, but the ones still bound had titles likeMagic for Sailors,Controlling the Elements, orHerbs and Aches.
“They have a split tongue and make better companions as cats.” She sniggered, and I recalled the animals outside. Had they once been men who’d cheated on a witch? Poor men, but they’d deserved what they’d gotten if they’d thought swindling a witch was ever a smart move. My thoughts flew back to my father. The last robbery of his that I knew about had involved stealing from a witch… worst mistake of his life. Never lie to the magical folk. That encounter had led to me getting locked up in a tower.
Get a move on. Remember what’s coming for you.
“Shhh. Don’t scare Vanore,” I whispered under my breath. “She’s about to give us a goddamn remedy to all our problems.”
“Found it!” she bellowed, and I flinched.
“Come ’ere, girl. Stop talking to yourself or they’ll call you crazy.”
The strap of my bag slid down my arm as I ambled toward Vanore. “Who’ll call me crazy?”
“People.” She frowned, as if I were indeed a child who didn’t understand the basics. “They ain’t understanding different and will judge.”
I stiffened. Was I different? Sure, I hadn’t lived alongside the community for years, but I was just like them.
You are different. Don’t kid yourself.
I shook my head. “I’m the same.”
“Concentrate, girl.” The witch grasped my hand and placed a soft pouch in my palm.
I drove away the thoughts, the ones that sometimes had a mind of their own, and focused on the bundle. Black fabric wrapped around a small parcel.
“Put that in your pocket.”
And I did.
“Now, we made a bargain.” Her words darkened, her brow hooding over the tops of her eyes. “I gave you magic ingredients to smite the gargoyle for ten thousand gold coins.” She swung her arm out from behind her back with such speed, I didn’t see the knife she grabbed until the edge bit across my thumb.
“Ouch.” I wrenched my arm back.
