As I drifted off, not even the scratchiness of the blankets or their sour odor could drive away my thoughts of Raj, so I stopped fighting it. Chances were, he wasn’t even attracted to me, and I had nothing to worry about in the first place. Complimenting a person’s hair was hardly a confession of love. He was only trying to be kind to me after his apology. Yes, that must’ve been it.
I had nothing to worry about.
Probably.
5
The next morning, I sat at a table, sipping something the innkeeper had called cocoa, made from a bean. I’d never tasted anything so extraordinary, and I couldn’t fathom how something so good could be made from such an awful plant.
Raj appeared at the top of the staircase, and I stiffened. My stomach did that flighty thing it had been doing lately, and I couldn’t decide if I liked the feeling. Honestly, I was pretty sure it annoyed me more than anything else. It made me think I had feelings for Raj when I was certain I didn’t.
I pulled my cloak’s cowl lower, feeling the urge to tuck my hair underneath, except earlier, I had braided it and wrapped it around my head. I told myself it was to keep it out of the way, but really, after Raj had seemed so smitten by my hair last night, I’d decided it was best to keep it out of sight.
“You’re here early,” Raj said as he sat across from me.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, keeping the warm mug firmly pressed between my hands.
“What are you drinking?” he asked.
“It’s called cocoa,” I said, finally daring to look up at him. He sat casually, and I breathed a sigh of relief. After last night, I was afraid things might have been awkward between us.
“Have you ever heard of such a thing?” I asked.
He smiled—that grin that showed his teeth, perfectly white and straight—and his lips, so full and pleasant. Oh, heaven help me. I had to stop this.
“Cocoa, yes. It comes from the Outerlands. My family had groves of the plants. We sold cocoa beans to people from all over the continent.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And my nijida made the best cocoa.”
“Nijida?”
“My grandmother.”
“Oh.”
“She’s passed now. Like so many others. I doubt I would recognize my home anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. There’s nothing you can do about it. Well, except for traveling to the Ice Mountains in the northern lands to get a pair of shears, cut the princess’s hair, and save the king’s son from a spell so he can gain the throne. And you’re already working on that, so I would never ask anything more of you.”
“That’s nice.” I sipped my cocoa, feeling its creamy warmth as I swallowed.
A serving girl came by and placed two bowls of porridge on our table, then turned and left without a word. Quiet conversations filled the room, and a fire roared from the hearth, crackling and sputtering as it consumed the logs, filling the air with its sweltering heat. I wanted to remove my cloak, but I knew better.
I turned my attention to my food and quickly shoveled in a bite, not wanting to waste any more time before we left for Spirit Woods.
“How long do you think it will take us to travel through the forest?” I asked.
“I’m hopeful we’ll reach the other side by nightfall, but that’s assuming we make good time, and aren’t stopped by any witch—” he cleared his throat, “by anything dangerous.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his slip. “You shouldn’t fear witches.”
“I know. I don’t.”
“Really?” I asked.
“You’re never going to let this go, are you?”
“Maybe I will. Someday.”
He sighed, looking away. “I suppose I should admit that I fear magic. I fear things I don’t understand. Robbers and wild animals—I can kill. They’re mortal. But those things people speak of when they mention the forest, ghost tales we know little about, enemies with powers we don’t understand and don’t know how to defeat. Those are the things I fear.”
“I suppose I’m the opposite. It’s the wolves that bother me.”
“The wolves?”
I nodded.
“Why wolves?”
“I don’t know. I suppose because they are real.”
He sat back, crossing his arms. “I don’t fear wolves,” he said smugly.
“Then I guess we’re not much alike.”
“Yes. I guess so.”
A tenseness fell over our conversation, and I took another sip without meeting his gaze.
“I’ve heard there are different types of witches.” Raj said. “Light and dark, that sort of thing. Is it true?”
“There aren’t really any types. But there are witches who possess natural magic and those who have to create their own.”
“Which one are you?”
“I have to create my own. Natural powers only come to those who inherit it from two magical parents. Because my father had none, I wasn’t born with the gift, so my mother taught me to use herbs and potions to create magic. It’s not as easy as having it come naturally, but it works.”
“I see.”
He eyed me, as if trying to decide if he trusted me or not. I made up my mind that I didn’t like discussing magic and witches with him. We finished eating in silence. As we stood, Raj mentioned saddling the horses. I agreed to meet him at the stables after gathering my things.
When I walked outside with my knapsack strapped to my back, my knife secured in my boot, and my cloak billowing behind me, I searched for the stables. My boots crunched over a thin layer of frost blanketing the dry stalks of grass.
I wrapped my cloak around me as I spotted the looming shape of the stables behind the inn, barely visible through the fog. Hulking spruce trees overshadowed me as I made my way to the entrance.
When I stepped inside, the sweet scent of hay filled the air. Raj stood saddling Tranquility, her black coat glistening under the light of a lantern glowing from a post. He looked up at me, but he said nothing. I wasn’t sure what
