Page 27 of A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison

27

T here were two days left to find the cure.

Bisma and Xander worked ceaselessly; there was no time to stop and ponder the very complicated emotions she felt for him. He did not bring it up either, and she considered that perhaps he had forgotten about what had transpired.

But then, Xander surprised her, like he always did.

‘Will you go to the festival dance with me this evening?’ he asked.

She blinked. They were in the greenhouse, and he was at a table behind her, mixing a potion. Pulling her hands from the pot she was growing white willow in, she turned.

‘What?’ she asked, convinced she had misheard him.

He walked around to her table, coming to stand next to her. He took her hand gently in his.

‘Darling Bisma, will you go to the festival dance with me?’ he repeated, smiling that charming smile of his. His green eyes sparkled. ‘I know there isn’t much time left for the cure, but a break will help us get refreshed. Anyway, sugar helps stimulate the mind. We learned all about it in school, no, really.’

‘You wish to go with … me?’

He looked at her as if she was positively obtuse. ‘Yes,’ he said, furrowing his brows. ‘That’s why I’m asking you.’

‘Oh.’

‘Besides,’ he added, stepping closer. He tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, his finger running over the curl. ‘I want to pick up where we left off the other night.’

His gaze went to her mouth, and she recalled nearly kissing him. Her cheeks felt warm. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her right then, and she stepped closer.

But he only kissed her cheek, sending a tingle down her spine.

‘OK,’ she squeaked. ‘I’ll go to the dance with you.’

There was a skip in his step as they continued working for another hour before she went back home to get ready. As she walked through town, which was busy with preparations for the festival, she caught snippets of a conversation.

‘The water has been awful, hasn’t it?’

‘It has, it has.’

‘Do you think it has to do with what the architect has been up to?’

‘Frederick Chapman? No, I doubt it. He’s the king’s architect; whatever he’s doing, I’m sure it’ll only benefit Old Town. My bet would be those Unwanted Girls.’

‘You’re absolutely right. The water supply passes through that forest of theirs, does it not?’

Bisma didn’t hear what else they said, but it presumably involved speaking ill of the Unwanted Girls. It was just like the villagers to blame them for anything that went wrong in town.

She wondered if the villagers even knew that all her sisters were asleep, that she was the only Unwanted Girl left. She had hardly spent any time in the Enchanted Forest these past few days.

The problems with the water had nothing to do with her or her home; it was more likely Frederick’s fault, something to do with his expansion plans, but of course no one would ever blame him .

Even though it irritated her, Bisma put the thought from her mind as she approached the Enchanted Forest to focus on a more pressing matter: The fog along the border was thin, practically gone. When had that happened?

And that was not the only cause for concern. Inside the Forest things felt … wrong. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was a strange energy in the air.

Bisma put a hand to a tree, stroking the bark. The wind whistled weakly, almost forlorn. The Forest must have missed the girls just like she did. Bisma’s heart twinged. For the first time, Bisma considered that the Enchanted Forest needed the girls just as much as they needed it.

‘Hold on a little longer, Forrie,’ she said. ‘We’ll all be home soon. Promise.’

Whoever was poisoning Bisma’s sisters was not only attacking her family but her home. Everything that mattered to her, everything that was important. It was the perfect revenge.

Her thoughts strayed to Eleanora again—could she do such a thing to make Bisma suffer? To get her vengeance?

The answer was obvious: yes, she very well could. There was no one else Bisma could think of who could exact such a punishment against her.

But then the next question was: Would she? Would Eleanora be this cruel? To use Bisma’s sisters as collateral damage, to hurt the Enchanted Forest.

She didn’t know Eleanora well enough to deduce that, but from the way Xander spoke of her, Bisma wasn’t sure. But Bisma clearly couldn’t think logically when it came to Xander …

Maybe going to the festival dance was a bad idea. She should be working on the cure.

But she did want to go. She couldn’t bring herself to cancel on Xander. There was a time when being cruel to him came easily, but now? She was afraid the opposite was true.

Bisma returned to the treehouse, which was quiet and empty. There was a darkness cast over it, whereas usually it glowed warm and golden. A cold wind blew, and a chill ran down her spine.

Shivering, Bisma went up to her room. There was a letter waiting for her. She realized she hadn’t replied to the last one—she hadn’t been writing as often with everything going on, and felt badly for it.

The letter was short.

I hope you will save me a dance.

Yours

Her heart started beating fast. Practically everyone went to the dance, so it wasn’t crazy for him to assume she would be there. They would finally meet in person—the prospect unnerved her. She wondered who her strange friend would be.

Bisma got ready, missing her sisters even more. Mei was not here to do her hair, nor Azalea to critique her dressing. Nori would have wanted to twirl with her, Deeba cooing as she watched, and surely Luna would have been reciting love poetry dramatically in the background, giving Bisma inane tips.

Even if Bisma was not going to the dance, they would have been excited. The Unwanted Girls usually did not go, but the next day, when the leftover food was left out for people to take and most of the town was asleep, recovering, the Unwanted Girls would go to town and eat caramel apples and dance to imaginary music under the hanging lights, treating it like their own private party.

She would only go to the dance for an hour or two, Bisma resolved. That was enough time to refresh her mind. Then she would get back to work. She missed her sisters desperately, each and every one of them, and that ache stayed with her as she walked back to town.

Some of the pain was soothed by the general splendor of the party. The entire town square had been cleared for it and decorated with crisscrossed strings of hanging lights.

Children carved pumpkins, while teenagers played games, a band playing lively music in the background for the adults to dance to. The evening was cool, but the square so packed that the air was warm. Everyone was enjoying themselves, having a merry time.

Her correspondent would be here, among the crowd. She wondered if he would approach her and when, but the thought left her mind as she spotted Xander.

He saw her a moment before she saw him and strode toward her.

‘Well met, Bis,’ he said with a smile, handing her a bouquet of red roses so dark they looked maroon.

‘Xander,’ she said, pressing the flowers to her nose to hide her smile. She adored them, but it would be tedious to carry them around, so she quickly made gajre out of them, wearing them as bracelets.

She held out her wrists to show him, and he smiled.

He took her hands, kissing her knuckles.

‘Beautiful,’ he said, but he was looking at her.

She smiled to herself. ‘Not so bad yourself,’ she replied, which was an understatement.

He was always gorgeous, but tonight especially so. Even though they had spent so much time together these past few weeks, every time she saw him again, she was struck by his beauty.

He wore the emerald-green waistcoat, the one she loved best—it made him look like a prince from a fairy tale, the type of story that only had happy endings, no sorrow, no grief. She was wearing her birthday dress in a similar but darker shade of green. Her hair was half up, strings of motia hanging with the rest of her hair.

As they walked through the crowd, he trailed behind her. She felt his feather-light touch at the end of her hair. When she turned, catching him, he smiled shyly and her heartbeat quickened.

He offered her his arm and she took it, trying not to fret over being seen with him in public. Even so, she glanced around. Some people were giving them looks, whispering to each other, and whenever she noticed, she felt more and more distressed, yet she could not keep looking. She was used to attracting negative attention, but she didn’t want Xander to be the recipient of such derision.

‘I bet you can’t beat me at the potato toss,’ Xander said, interrupting her thoughts.

It was a game with different baskets worth varying amounts of points, and to win one had to achieve the most points.

‘And what will I win when you inevitably lose?’

‘Win and maybe you’ll see,’ he said, his tone playful.

Her pulse sped up.

She won the first round, then he won the next, and in the last round, she won again.

‘Ha!’ She whooped, jumping up. He smiled, unbothered, and she found she had not noticed or cared about anyone watching; Xander had successfully distracted her. Her heart glowed.

‘And now time for your prize,’ Xander said, steering her to a stall that sold apple slices covered in caramel.

‘Ooh, yummy.’ He paid for a portion and they ate. The caramel apples were so sweet her teeth hurt but she didn’t mind the ache, not one bit.

Bisma’s gaze went to a nearby booth, which was selling cider donuts. She was about to demand they get some when she recognized who was standing there: Eleanora and Frederick.

Xander’s gaze followed hers, and he smiled. ‘Oh, let me introduce you!’

She shook her head quickly. ‘Let’s not disturb them. Besides, I’ve met them before.’

She had been avoiding crossing paths with Eleanora ever since and successfully managed it, despite Xander’s many attempts to the contrary.

‘A brief moment in the greenhouse doesn’t count,’ he said, grabbing her hand. ‘Even if you won’t formally introduce me to your family, I want you to meet mine.’

She tried to resist, but he pulled her along, and her chest tightened with fear.

When they reached Eleanora and Frederick, the pair of siblings were sipping a bubbly drink from goblets, deep in conversation.

‘As I was telling Charlotte this afternoon, Phase One is nearly complete,’ Frederick was saying. ‘After that, the expansion—’ He stopped when he saw Xander approaching with Bisma. A smile broke across his face.

‘Uncle Fred, Mother,’ Xander said, stopping in front of them. He was still holding Bisma’s hand. ‘This is Bisma.’

Eleanora and her brother were as beautiful as the portraits she had seen at the Chapman Estate. Bisma smiled at them, but it might have been more of a grimace as she braced herself for Eleanora’s reaction.

‘So this is the infamous Bisma!’ Eleanora said, her green eyes sparking with interest. Bisma flinched, until Eleanora continued, ‘Xander speaks of you so often I feel I know you. I’m pleased to meet you properly.’

Before Bisma knew what was happening, Eleanora stepped forward, gathering Bisma into her arms in a perfumed hug. Xander wasn’t even ashamed. His cheeks did turn a little pink, but he grinned at Bisma.

‘Oh.’ Bisma blinked, not knowing what to say. ‘He speaks of you often, as well,’ she continued as Eleanora smiled.

‘Clever girl,’ Frederick said with a grin. ‘Always compliment the mother.’

‘Uncle Fred,’ Xander said in a warning tone.

‘Just teasing, Xandy-boy,’ Frederick said with a wink. He took Bisma’s hand to kiss the back of it, his touch lingering as he squeezed her palm with his gloved hand. ‘Delighted to meet this wonder again.’

Bisma bit back a laugh. ‘ Xandy-boy? ’ she mouthed at Xander.

He rolled his eyes, but the act was affectionate. It was evident that Xander’s mother and uncle adored him, and that adoration was now being extended to Bisma, as well, which felt … lovely.

‘Alright, we’ll let you kids go now,’ Eleanora said, squeezing her brother’s arm.

‘Have some fun on our behalf, as well,’ Frederick said. ‘Though not too much fun, mind you!’

Eleanora nudged her brother scoldingly.

Xander and Bisma waved goodbye, walking away, but Bisma looked over her shoulder to find Eleanora watching her.

Eleanora waved, smiling.

Was she that good of an actress? Did she not hate Bisma for the hand she thought Bisma had played in Leilani’s death?

Bisma couldn’t think of it further for something else required her attention; a handful of village boys were approaching. She recognized some of them. The unfamiliar faces seemed to be from the richer set; she could tell as much from their outfits.

‘Xander!’ one said, laughing as the group drew nearer. His eyes settled on Bisma, recognizing her; even if she did not know the boy personally, all the villagers of Old Town knew who she was.

She scowled.

‘What’s this?’ the boy said, turning to one of his friends. They all snickered, clearly amused by the fact that Xander was here with her.

Embarrassment burned through her, though she had nothing to be ashamed of. Bisma turned to Xander and saw his face was red and splotchy. Her heart crashed. He was embarrassed as well.

‘Strange choice of prize, Xander,’ one of the boys said.

‘Get lost,’ Xander snapped, his voice lethal.

And she realized he wasn’t embarrassed. No. He was furious .

While he was usually verbose, now he could hardly grit out the two words. That seemed to frighten the boys enough that they stopped laughing, but they didn’t make any move to leave.

Suddenly, Bisma did not feel embarrassed anymore.

‘Didn’t you hear him?’ Bisma said, glaring. ‘Or do you need some encouragement?’

She reached into her bag, pulling out a closed fist as if to blow poison on them. They screamed, sprinting away, faces white with fear.

For a moment, Xander looked surprised, until she showed him her empty palm.

She inched closer to him, then revealed the contents of her purse.

‘Just an energy potion,’ she said.

Xander was surprised, but then he began laughing—they both did.

‘Well played,’ he said.

‘I thought so,’ she replied. Her reputation had come in handy.

She felt silly now for being afraid of stupid boys from the village. It was hard to be afraid of anything, really, when she was with Xander.

Not even her own heart.

‘Come on,’ he said, flashing her a smile. ‘Let’s dance.’