AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Blair’s face flushes a soft pink that shines through the dirt and grime. She doesn’t lift her eyes to his, staring at the ground. She shakes her head and darts her eyes up at the other woman.
“Ach, I am sorry,” Blair says. “Will you forgive me Elsie?”
“Aye,” Elsie says. “Of course. But I am not a witch.”
Blair looks up.
“You may not be,” Blair says, letting the rest of the thought hang with her eyes on me.
“Enough,” Graham says, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “Whose blanket is this?”
“Hers,” Blair says, motioning towards the other woman.
“Good, here,” he says, handing it over. “Let’s be about our work. We’ve enough troubles without making our own.”
Elsie takes the blanket, and the two women move away. As they do the crowd moves also, shuffling towards chores and whatever sense of normality they can manage. Graham closes the distance between us.
“I’m Graham. And you are?”
“Quinn,” I say with a half-curtsy. Pride swells when I pull it off without tripping over my feet.
“I do not know you.”
His eyes bore into mine as if by looking at me long enough and hard enough he can understand everything there is to know, discerning all my secrets. His gaze makes me uncomfortable and my response to discomfort is to be snarky.
“And I don’t know you. Is your world so small you know everyone in it?”
“Aye. It is.”
His voice is flat and lacking any hint of a sense of humor, making it clear he’s unimpressed with my wit. I wait for him to say more but he’s as stoic as a stone, silent and waiting. I match his gaze for a heartbeat, then two, but my skin is crawling and I’m fighting an incredibly strong urge to squirm.
“You should travel more then. Meet more people. There are lots of us out there.”
“Are you a witch?”
“Huh?”
“Simple question. Answer it true.”
Suddenly his stoic nature is threatening. My discomfort has a tinge of fear underlying it. There is nothing worse in this time than being branded a witch, and by their standards, I am. I can do magic, sometimes. I talk to the Fae, sometimes. Neither of which are fully under my control since I can’t seem to pull any magical power and the Fae are as fickle as any story would have you believe.
“No.”
Lie. It’s the only safe path. He doesn’t react except to move his eyes over my face. He must be committing every pore of my face to memory with the intensity of his stare.
“Who vouches for you?”
“Since when do I need someone to vouch for me? Vouch what? That I’m here? That I am who I say I am?”
I’ve grown used to fear and it doesn’t affect me nearly as much as it used to. I’ve been scared by the best and, sorry Graham, but you don’t compare to what I’ve dealt with.
“That you’re not a spy.”
That stops the thought train running through my head so fast my mouth drops and my eyes widen all of their own accord. I force my mouth to close and then blink to moisten my suddenly dry eyes. I’d been so worried about being labeled a witch this hadn’t occurred to me.
“Alesoun knows me,” I sputter. “So does Blair, though she doesn’t like me.”
“She thinks you’re a witch?”
