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I lift my arm up, but she lets go, dropping me back into the swamp. Her foot comes down hard on my chest again and again. Each kick sends my head underwater and the air from my lungs.
Then witch stomps into the water and squats over me. I sputter and look up into a youthful face. She leans in close, giving me the perfect opportunity to strike.
But my hand remains where it is, underwater, and clutching the dagger. There’s a pale scar over the bridge of her nose. She looks too human.
But I’ve killed vampires who also look human, so why am I hesitating?
We stare at each other for a long moment. Her eyes narrow. “You’re nothing more than a weak, pathetic human.”
She tsks, shifting her weight as if to leave me in the mire to wallow in my failure. I blow out a breath, and then her hands are around my throat.
The witch kneels, pinning my arm down with her foot. She pushes my head underwater. Her thin limbs are deceptively strong. Bone-like fingers tighten with bruising force.
I flail, desperately searching for a way to break her hold. My lungs burn from lack of air. I dig my nails into her hand, but the witch’s skin is hard as iron. The water is only knee-deep, but that’s enough to drown as she holds me under.
The last of my strength leaches away as I cling to consciousness. I stop struggling. The seer witch’s face becomes crystal clear through the unnaturally glassy surface as the water ceases to froth. Darkness pushes in on the edges of my vision but not enough to hide her true form.
Her skin is sallow with chunks of flesh hanging from her face, exposing bone and teeth within. Fangs jut up from her lower jaw, pressing into the skin of her cheeks. Her neck is exposed spine with strips of peeling muscle.
What skin she does have crawls and moves as if beetles skitter underneath. She is a corpse using a glamor to hide the horror of her nature.
My eyes close and go completely limp. Her fingers tighten, and I force myself to not react. Finally, the witch’s grip slackens, then she releases those long, skeletal fingers from my throat. She shifts and takes her foot off my arm.
My eyes snap open. She gazes off in the distance.
This time, I don’t hesitate.
This time, I remember my mission.
I tighten my grip around the hilt and rise, knocking her off balance. The witch screeches, falling onto the muddy slash of land. Coughing up the dregs of water, I fling myself on top of her and bring my arm down hard.
The blade pierces her neck, sinking without resistance. Her cry cuts off with a thick gurgle, and then she goes still.
I gasp, sucking in deep lungfuls of warm, humid air against my scratchy throat. Shaking, I remove the dagger, grimacing at what’s to come.
The mud inches up around the witch’s body, pulling her into the earth.
Demon shit. The forest is reclaiming her.
Pressing the weapon’s point to the corner of her eye, I work quickly. The second I have the third item, I scramble to dry land, and heave what little I have in my stomach, still clutching both weapon and eye.
When I regain control of my stomach, I sit back on my heels, sheathing the dagger as I catch my breath. Then I push to my feet and hurriedly fetch the satchel. Taking the last vial, I place the item and wrap it as I had the first two.
Three jars, each holding their intended item.
I press my back to the tree and slide down to the ground, rubbing my bruised throat.
Even with the majority of what I need gathered, success seems almost impossible. I don’t know how I can possibly get the final item when I don’t have a vial for it, let alone knowwhatit is.
Ophelia said I’d find it when I was ready, but nothing stands out, nothing that there aren’t a hundred others of—a hundred trees just like the hundreds of others I’ve passed. I’m ready. What could be worse than the saaer or witch that it wouldn’t present itself just as quickly?
Resting, I wait for the next thing to reveal itself as the others did. Time slips by, minute by minute. The forest remains quiet and still, as the daylight continues to wane. No birds sing. No insects buzz. I am losing the last bits of light, and still, nothing presents itself. My heart sinks. I can’t remain out here any longer.
Not knowing what else to do, I get up and jog back toward the clearing, hoping I will somehow find what I need on my way back. No creatures or witches make themselves known.
With each step, I trip over roots hiding in the shadows between trees. I scan every inch of forest, looking for a clue… something,anything, that might be the final item.
Swallowing down a sob when I step onto the stone path, I race toward the cottage. My insides twist into knots at what this means.
