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“You’re the oracle witch.”
She shrugs. “Come, child, let us sit by the fire. Standing in doorways is no place to speak of business.”
I look over my shoulder and jerk my head for the others to follow.
Herbs and jars hang from the rafters so low I have to duck and weave to avoid getting them tangled in my hair. Inside, it smells of warm wood, herbs, spices, and fresh bread.
The cabin is small, a fireplace to the left as we enter, a small bed directly across from it, and a single table with two chairs near the back separating the central area from what looks to be the kitchen with a ratty curtain pinned to the side. A fire crackles in the hearth, warming the space.
There’s a thin workbench along the wall with an open book and some equipment that looks too small for cooking and several tiny jars. Above is a hanging shelf secured to the wall above the workbench with books at every angle and bobbles decorating the ends.
“Sit wherever you like,” the oracle says.
I walk further into the room, too anxious to keep still. My companions remain close to the door.
“How is this possible, witch? We’re nowhere near the heart of the forest,” Cassius demands.
“My name is Ophelia,vampire,” she says sharply. “And I did not live this long by staying in one place. Now, mind your tongue if you wish to stay. Your kind is not welcome here.”
“Please,” I say, moving to stand between them. A feud will not help me get what I’ve come for. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”
Ophelia raises a brow. “First, you save him and now, you defend him?”
I look back at the three vampires. “They’re my friends. I couldn’t have made it this far without them.”
“Mmm,” she hums to herself. “That does not speak highly of your abilities.”
I wave a hand behind me and gesture for them to sit, or at least not cause trouble. Della takes a seat at the table with her back to the wall. The men sit on the floor, theirs backs against the wall near the bed.
“I need your help.”
Ophelia regards me for a painfully long moment, then with a grunt, she says, “Wait here.”
She turns and hobbles to the back room. I look to Cassius, wondering what he makes of all this, but his expression is blank. Clinking dishes come from the other room.
Moments later, she returns with a pot and several cups on a tray and sets it on the table. She seems sturdier in her home, her steps longer and stronger. The oracle pours tea into each a cup. The vampires take theirs and sip obediently. I accept mine but hold it with both hands, eager to get down to business now that we’ve found the oracle witch.
“I was told—”
“There will be time enough for that later.” Ophelia cuts me off as she takes a seat in the remaining chair.
My skin crawls, feeling each and every passing second. I want to get the spell and return to Alaric as soon as possible. To keep from shaking her until she hands over the spell, I brush my thumb back and forth over the coarse texture of the cup. Offending her will not help.
Ophelia sips her tea and motions for me to do the same. I throw it back in a single gulp and remain rooted in place and silent, waiting for permission to begin.
She finishes her drink, setting the empty cup on the table, then stands. “Come, child, we will speak without ears to listen.”
I toss a furtive look back at the others before following her into the kitchen.
The ratty curtain slides over the doorway, blocking us from view as if it will somehow prevent their sensitive hearing from picking everything up.
With barely enough room for us to stand in the kitchen without embracing, my backside ends up pressed against a wood-burning stove—which is thankfully cold. The oracle stands with her back to a counter cover. Precarious stacks of dishes that look like they might topple over at any moment, cover the surface.
Ophelia waves her arm, speaking words I don’t know, but there is power in every syllable she utters.
Magic crackles all around us, electric, like the air a moment before lightning strikes. A nearly transparent shield forms over the dorway, glistening in the dim lantern light like a soap bubble.
Chapter Sixteen
