The Witch's Tower by Tamara Grantham (top novels .txt) 📕

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 to think of his silence. Had I offended him in some way? Then again, I was most likely reading too much into it.

Sable stood behind Raj and his horse. She stood munching a mouthful of hay, a blanket thrown over her back. I approached my horse and grabbed the saddle off a wooden beam, but as I prepared to throw the saddle on her back, the shrill sound of screaming stopped me. I turned around to face the inn when more screams joined in with the first.

Chills prickled my neck. Raj stood beside me, staring intently at the inn, though we could see nothing.

“Hopefully it’s just a bar fight,” I said quietly.

“No way to tell unless we go check it out.”

“What if it’s a squadron?” I asked.

“Then we’d better not go check it out.”

“And we’d better disappear,” I said.

We turned back to the horses and saddled them quickly. The screaming got worse, until I was convinced that a squadron must have been inside the inn.

My heart pounding, we mounted the horses and trotted down the path leading around the inn and out of the village. As the fog burned away, a man wearing black and red armor stepped into our path. The image of a snakelike basilisk was imprinted on his breastplate. The creature’s coils curved to form a clover-like pattern, with three intersecting circles.

The mark of the high sorcerer.

“Halt,” the man yelled, pulling a broadsword from a scabbard at his back, his voice booming. The blade’s sharpened edges glittered in the morning light.

Sable jerked her head as I pulled on the reins.

My hands shook as I held tightly to the leather straps. What good would my knife do against a sword like that?

The guardsman swung his sword in an arc. I heard its whistling sound from where I sat atop my horse.

“What do you want with us?” Raj called.

“We seek a girl!” the man yelled back. “One of the high sorcerer’s own has escaped.” He eyed us both, his gaze seeming to peer beneath my cowl. I had the urge to reach up and pull it lower, but that would only draw attention, and that was the last thing we needed.

“We’ve tracked her this far,” the guardsman said. “And look what I’ve found. A girl!”

“Indeed,” Raj replied. “There are many girls in the land. What makes you so sure you’ve found the right one?”

“Because I’ll kill every girl in my path until I find her.”

“That’s an unpleasant thought,” Raj called back. “Have you considered a different method for finding this girl? It seems a bit inefficient, to be honest.”

The man creased his brow. “Are you toying with me?” he demanded, his voice harsh.

“I would never dream of doing such a thing. However, I will inform you that you’re wasting your time with us. I’ve heard rumors she’s headed south.”

“Where did you hear that?” the guard asked.

“From the locals, of course. They know everything. Perhaps you should consider speaking to them before killing them. It might prove worthy of your time.”

“Enough!” the man hissed. “The girl I seek is the keeper of the princess in the tower. She’s got blue hair.” He pointed the tip of his sword at me. “Remove your cowl, girl! Show me your hair.”

I hesitated, frozen to the spot, trying to think logically through my fear, but all I could do was imagine how he would kill me—the pain of the blade as it slid through my heart.

But I couldn’t think that way. I had to control my fear.

“No,” I said, reaching into my pocket, wrapping my fingers around a satchel.

“No?”

“I won’t do it.”

“Then I’ll remove it for you.” He lunged toward me. I pulled out the packet and threw it in his face. White smoke exploded. Screaming, the man fell back. He dropped his sword to claw at his eyes. Coughing and sputtering, he staggered toward