'Nothing.' I whispered to soften the lie.
The horse trotted behind me and nudged my shoulder. 'It's not your fault. I know you can't help how you feel any more than he can. That's why it's happening. Do you think you're the first temptation we've come across? There have been others. More than I can count. Wyst has drawn his share of lovely admirers. Why shouldn't he? He's virtuous and brave, handsome and gallant, everything a woman might want. But all the others loved the Knight, not the man. You're different. You see him as none have, and he sees that you see. How can anyone not love someone who loves them for who they are? Especially someone more beautiful than all the others combined.'
I reached out and stroked between his eyes. 'I didn't want it to happen.'
'Neither did he, but it did. And it will.'
'Perhaps not.'
He stuck out his tongue. 'I've been his boon companion for a very long time. I know Wyst better than anyone. Sometimes, better than he knows himself. He's out in the fields now, meditating, struggling to clear his mind of these urges. They teach White Knights to suppress their baser desires. But even a great Knight such as Wyst can't stifle his love.'
So great was my surprise that even a lifetime of witchly training couldn't hide it. Agape, I stepped away from the horse.
'He loves me?'
The horse shook his head. His lips turned in a sardonic grin. 'Very much so. More than even he suspects.'
I struggled to contain my excitement and mostly succeeded. The only trace of my joy came in a soft smile and a spontaneous sprouting of sunflowers at my feet.
'Do you love him?' asked the horse.
I answered without hesitation. 'Yes.' A pair of silver butterflies materialized in my palm. I let them into the air with a wave of my hand.
'That's it then,' sighed the horse. 'He's doomed.'
'I would never hurt him.'
'There are more dooms than death. A White Knight touched by love is ruined. They can't return to a life of virtue after that.'
'You don't understand. I'm cursed. I can't love him, not as a mortal woman loves a man.'
He nervously nibbled on the tall grass. He chewed a mouthful and spat it out. 'You can. And you do.'
I wanted to argue. More than anything, I wanted to correct the horse of this notion, but everything I might say would be a lie. Since neither of us would believe any untruth I could offer, I didn't bother. Instead, I seized on a comment I hadn't noticed before.
'Beautiful. You said, I was beautiful?'
The horse gulped down more grass and spoke with his mouth foil. 'Did I? I don't recall.'
'Yes, you did. More beautiful than all of Wyst's former admirers combined, that's what you said.'
'Are you certain?' He chewed on his far shoulder to avoid looking at me. I waited for him to grow bored ignoring me.
'Oh, yes, yes. I did say that.' He lifted and pawed each hoof twice. 'We saw you bathing in the lake, months before we came to Fort Stalwart. Wyst had lost track of the gobling horde, it was very elusive for a horde, and while trailing it through a patch of woods, we saw you.'
I'd forgotten my last day with Ghastly Edna and my bath at the lake. I'd known someone had been watching. Now I knew who. And I had only been down there because my mistress had ordered me to. There could only be one reason behind it. Ghastly Edna had wanted me spied upon. It was against the witch's code to be seen in so vulnerable a state, and I couldn't fathom the reason. Even long dead, my mistress could confuse me. There had always been a lesson somewhere to be learned, and I assumed this would be no different.
'Personally, I don't know what makes a woman desirable,' remarked the horse. 'I've always liked a strong back and sturdy haunches, a nice mane. You've got the mane at least. And whatever women are supposed to have, I presume you have that as well. Because I felt Wyst's lust rise the moment he laid eyes upon you.'
I frowned. I didn't want Wyst's lust. I was a beautiful creature, supernaturally so, and men couldn't help but desire my flesh. If the only reason Wyst couldn't resist me was my curse, then I would rather he feel nothing at all.
The horse shook his head. 'You still don't understand, do you? It was merely lust at first. A stronger lust than usual perhaps, but lust nonetheless. Wyst was its master. Then this quest started, and over the days, it became something more. And it's all your fault. If only you'd been a proper witch and kept your distance.'
I almost argued that Wyst was just as responsible, but even if it was true, everyone is only responsible for their own actions. The blame was mine. And still I couldn't make myself feel bad about any of this.
Because Wyst loved me.
'Shame,' said the horse. 'He was such a terrific champion of virtue.'
I laid by the campfire, closed my eyes, and tried to get some rest. I couldn't even stop from smiling.
Wyst returned sometime later. I pretended to sleep and watched him by magic through closed eyes. He stood over me for a long while, just looking. Then he bent down and barely touched my cheek. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss and nibble him. But I didn't. This wasn't the right place or time, and something in my eyes told me Wyst wasn't ready. But he would be, and I could wait until he was.
Wyst laid down, a mere arm's length away. He didn't go to sleep. A sweet smile across his lips, he just kept looking, and with him watching over me, I had no trouble getting the rest I needed.
'Trouble,' snorted the horse just before I fell into a peaceful slumber.
I'd always been the first to wake in the morning, if I got any rest at all. But my sleepless nights must've finally caught up with me, and I slumbered, nestled in dreams of Wyst of the West. I'd dreamed of him before, but never like this. The previous had been carnal in nature, fantasies of fleshly and carnivorous desires. This night, I dreamed of nothing more than being held in his strong arms. It was the loveliest dream, over and over again throughout the night. On the surface, it was very innocent, but I knew it was more serious than all my other fantasies. When the time to leave the dreaming world came, I was reluctant to do so.
Morning light usually disturbs my deepest slumber. When it finally did just that, the sun was already halfway over the horizon. I sat up and shielded my eyes from the sun. I couldn't look at it directly, but it was a very pretty morning.
'I retrieved your hat from the cellar,' said Newt. 'Thought you might need it.' He held it up in his bill. I took the pointed, black hat and pulled it low over my head to shade my eyes. I didn't tuck my hair away, and Newt glowered at the shimmering strands.
I bent down and rubbed a handful of dirt on my face. Not as much as I should, but this was mostly an exercise of habit. All my companions knew I was beautiful. There was little point in hiding it.
I tried wiping away my slight smile with little success. I could only hope it came across as ambiguous. Not the smile of a woman in love, but the knowing grin of a witch listening to the whisper of magic.
I glanced over at Wyst of the West. He looked back at me, and neither of us shied away. He climbed onto his horse without turning his eyes from mine. We both smiled, softly for most people, but beaming for a witch and White Knight.
Newt said something, but I didn't catch the words.
I pulled my gaze from Wyst and down to my familiar. 'Pardon?'
'I asked which way now, mistress?' The question came with an impertinent tone. Especially the last word. I was in much too good a mood to be troubled by it now.
Gwurm boosted me onto his shoulder as I replied, 'We follow the road.'
Penelope floated into my hand, and Newt took his place on my lap. And we started on our way. As the cabin shrank away, I tucked away its memory. It was worth remembering, not for the quietly miserable childhood but for that brief moment when Wyst and I held each other. That embrace made the highly probable into an unavoidable certainty.
