“He took you from your family?”
“Yes and no. I’m still in contact with them. They’re proud of me for becoming the prince’s squire.”
“Did you have any say in the matter?”
“Not really.”
“Does that bother you?”
He paused before answering. “I suppose it does. Sometimes I wish I could have stayed in my village and taken my father’s place as patriarch, helped with the family’s spice business, married an Outlander girl and started a family, but life rarely works out the way we wish. I’m grateful for the opportunities I have now. I never would’ve had them if the king hadn’t taken me. Still, I miss my home. I miss the smell of my mother’s curry spiced dumplings. I miss my family.”
We continued saddling the horses in silence. I tightened Sable’s girth, making sure it was secure. I wasn’t sure what to think about Raj, although it seemed that he, like me, was also a prisoner of sorts. He’d been taken from his family, and I’d been taken from mine.
When we mounted our horses and rode away from the stables, night fell over the village. Flames flickered from the gaslights atop the lampposts, casting a hazy orange glow over the cobbled pathways winding through the thatched-roof buildings. A chill breeze blew past, blowing leaves and bits of straw across our path. The wind tugged strands of blue hair from my cowl. I tucked the loose hair beneath my hood, scanning the street for anyone who may have been watching. Only a few people lingered, some pushing carts with squeaking wheels, others walked with their heads down, not paying us any attention.
Good. I didn’t need any attention. If anyone recognized me, it was possible they could report it to the high sorcerer. Plus, I wasn’t anxious for anyone to spot me alone with a strange man.
The clopping of the horses’ hooves echoed through the lane until we reached a dirt road leading away from the village and through open fields. The bright moonlight turned the grassy hills to mounds of silver. Away from the village, with only the sounds of horses’ hooves clipping rhythmically over the dirt-packed road, the world remained quiet. I would have expected crickets chirping or the occasional hoot of an owl. Instead, silence shrouded the air.
Our lanterns illuminated the wagon wheel ruts and the impressions of horse hooves in the mud. Patches of fog snaked through the air, a transparent white blanket that dampened my skin.
We rode for several hours, passing no one at this time of night, which didn’t bother me. At one point, Raj suggested we stop and let the horses rest. We drank a few sips of water, and then continued.
As the night wore on, my hands, though gloved, felt stiff and cold, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to walk once I was off the horse. Up ahead, the shapes of buildings appeared on the horizon.
“Grimlore,” Raj said, “the last village before we enter Spirit Woods. I think it best if we stay here until morning. We’ll need rest before we journey into the forest.”
“Fine,” I said, too tired to argue.
We guided our horses off the road and onto the path leading to Grimlore. It was a bigger village than Willow Wood, with three story buildings that crowded the narrow lanes. Gas lamps shone from light posts, glowing over the glass windows of store fronts and inns.
“Where should we stay?” I asked, looking at the bronze and wooden signs hanging from poles that jutted from the wrought-iron balconies. The Ruddy Pig, Mooncastle Inn, and The Dead Rooster’s Watering Hole, were a few of the names I spotted.
“Down the lane there’s an inn away from the others. If the high sorcerer’s guards are on patrol tonight, we should be out of the way.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“No, but it’s safer than spending the night in Spirit Woods. I, for one, would rather not be poisoned by imps while I sleep.”
“Do you really think there are imps in the forest?”
“Yes, and there’s worse than that, too.”
“Like what?”
He shot me a dark glance. “Witches.”
“Witches?”
He nodded.
“Are you afraid of witches, Raj?”
“Anyone would be a fool not to be.”
I pulled back on the reins, stopping my horse. Raj glanced back at me, then stopped his own horse and turned around to face me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You do realize I am a witch, don’t you?”
“Yes, but you’re not like other witches.”
“How would you know that? How many witches have you met?”
He pondered for a moment. “One.”
“I’m the only witch you’ve ever met?”
“Yes.”
“Then how can you be afraid of them if you’ve never met them? And how can you trust me?”
“Because… I don’t know.”
My anger bubbled to the surface. “You don’t know? You demanded I come on this quest with you when you think anyone would be a fool to trust a witch?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Then how did you mean it?”
“Look, we’re both tired. We’ve been riding all night. Let’s just get to the inn and get some rest, okay?”
He wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. “Are you sure you want a witch to go to the inn with you? What if I cast a spell on you in your sleep and turn you into a frog?”
“You can do that?”
Oh, for goodness’ sake. “Of course, I can. I’m a witch!”
“You could really turn me into a frog?”
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”
“But I didn’t think… I know you did that spell on the princess… you could really turn a person to a frog?”
Would he drop the frog thing already? “Frog, horse, dust mote, manure, yes. All of it. Could we get to the inn now? I’m feeling testy. I’d hate to turn you into a person who thinks.”
“That’s uncalled for.”
“Is it?”
I kicked Sable’s flanks and rode past him. Without arguing, he followed. At the end of the
