Both Maric and Loghain stared at her blankly. Her laughter slowly quieted into a sigh. “Well, what did you think?” she asked. “That the King of Ferelden could pass through the Korcari Wilds and it would go completely without notice?”
Maric licked his lips nervously. “I’m assuming you mean the
“Right you are! If the Orlesian who sits on your throne were to run through this part of the forest all by himself, I would happily scoop him up instead of you! Failing that, I suppose you will have to do. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Err . . . good point.”
The witch reached down into the basket by her feet and drew out a large, shiny apple. It was a dark red, perfectly plump and ripe. She bit into it with gusto. “Now—” She spoke through her loud chewing. “—I have to apologize if the elves seemed overzealous. They were the only way I could cast out my net far enough to catch you as you passed.” She licked the apple juices off her lips. “But one does what one can.”
Maric thought carefully. “The elves . . . didn’t just happen to find us, then?”
“Now there’s a smart lad.”
“Who
“She’s an apostate, a mage in hiding from the Chantry’s hunters,” Loghain insisted. “Why else would she be out in the middle of the Wilds?”
The witch rolled her eyes and chuckled again. “You’re friend isn’t entirely incorrect. There are things hidden in the shadows of your kingdom, young man, which you couldn’t begin to guess.” She looked directly at Loghain, her eyes suddenly sharp. “Yet I was here long before your Chantry came to this part of the world.”
“It isn’t
“As for your question”—she looked back at Maric—“the Dalish surely told you my name? I have many, and theirs is as good as any.”
“Then what do you want with me?”
She bit into her apple with a loud crunch and chewed it thoughtfully as she sat back in her rocking chair. “Why does anyone desire an audience with their sovereign?”
“You . . . want something from me?” He shrugged helplessly. “You probably would have been better off with my mother, if that’s the case. I don’t have much of anything.”
“Fortunes change.” The witch’s gaze shifted to far off in the distance. “One minute you’re in love, so much in love that you can’t imagine anything wrong ever happening. And the next you’re betrayed. Your love has been ripped from you like your own leg, and you swear you’d do anything—
He said nothing, staring at her uncertainly.
Loghain stepped forward angrily. “Leave him alone.”
The witch turned to regard him, her eyes delighted. “And what of yours? You’ve rage enough inside you, tempered into a blade of fine steel. Into whose heart will you plunge that one day, I wonder?”
“Maric and I are not friends,” he growled, “but I don’t want him dead.”
Her chuckle was mirthless. “Oh, you know what I speak of.”
Loghain paled, but regained his composure almost immediately. “That . . . doesn’t matter any longer,” he stated evenly.
“Doesn’t it? Have you forgiven them already, then? You no longer remember her cries as they held her down? The laughter of the soldiers as they held you back and made you watch? Your father when he—”
“Stop!” Loghain shouted, his voice filled with as much terror as fury. Maric watched in shock as Loghain launched toward the witch as if to strangle her. He lurched to a halt before he reached her, hands clenched tightly into fists as he struggled against his impulse. The trees around the hut seemed to creak in anticipation, like coiled springs. The witch merely rocked and watched him quietly, unconcerned. “You see too much, old woman,” he muttered.
“In fact,” her tone was dry, “I see just barely enough.”
“Please.” Maric stepped forward. “Tell me what you want.”
She studied him for a moment, and after taking a final bite from her apple and chewing on it in the quiet, she tossed it over her shoulder. It fell with a dull thud in the rotted leaves and moss. An instant later, something long and white slithered out from the shadows and snatched up the core. It was buried under the leaves, almost out of sight, but still Maric got the impression that it wasn’t a snake at all.
“You should thank me, young man,” the witch purred. “Fleeing into the Wilds as you did, what do you suppose would have happened to you? Taken by Chasind wild folk, slain by the Dalish, eaten by any one of the many creatures that lurk within its crevasses. Do you truly think this one outlaw alone could have seen you through it all?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
She arched a brow at Loghain. “He has quite the estimation of your capabilities, doesn’t he?” When he said nothing, she turned to gaze intensely at Maric. “Keep him close, and he will betray you. Each time worse than the last.”
Maric was unmoved. “So you brought me here to speak riddles at me, then?”
“No, no.” She waved a hand absently. “I brought you here to save you.”
Maric stared at her in disbelief. He wasn’t quite sure she could have said anything else that would have been
