Page 24 of Inked in Emeralds (Inkbound #3)

We ate lunch on the move, with me stuffing a couple of those jam-filled dumplings into my satchel for later.

Billy led us to the outskirts of Emerald City, which was a breath of fresh air.

Simple homes spaced much further apart than the more tightly packed city center and surrounded by wildflowers and gardens.

We followed a winding dirt path to a whitewashed cottage tucked in the middle of countless fruit trees. Herbs sprung from a garden that somehow looked both well-tended and wild at the same time.

As we approached, the mat on the front porch caught my eye.

Leave your boots and your bullshit at the door.

Duncan grinned. "I kind of like her already."

Billy raised a fist to knock, but the door swung open before she had the chance.

“Well, if it isn’t Billy O’Donnelly in the flesh.”

“Hello, Nora.”

The woman stood framed in the doorway, hands coated in something dark brown and sticky.

Long white hair hung down her back in a braid, framing a lined face that had seen some years, and had only grown better for them.

She wore a beige crocheted dress that should’ve made her look frumpy, but instead lent her an earth mother appeal that had me glancing at the men to see if they noticed.

Hook was too busy scoping out the surrounding area for potential threats, but Duncan noticed, and Nora noticed him noticing.

"Who's this handsome young man you've brought me?"

"That's Duncan. But, uh..." Billy stared pointedly at the woman’s messy hands, wrinkling her nose. “We could wait outside if we caught you at a bad time…”

The woman paused, then let out a belly laugh that warmed me from the inside out. “You are always with the jokes. I’m just throwing some clay, child. Come in and let me wash up. You can leave your shoes on if you like. Tomorrow is cleaning day."

Inside, the cottage's warmth matched its owner’s. The parlor and kitchen were all one room, filled with shelves of mismatched crockery. Woven rugs and potted plants were scattered around, and the furniture was built for comfort over form.

“Sit where you like.” She gestured with an elbow as she scrubbed her hands at the chipped basin. “I’ll be right with you.”

We took our seats around a worn walnut table, and a sleek black cat padded into the room, weaving itself between our legs. I reached down to pet her, but instead she leapt onto my shoulders, curling herself around my neck like a scarf made of fur.

I froze for a second, wishing I still had the magic to communicate with her. The cat didn't seem to mind, though. In fact, she was happily purring away.

The older woman returned, drying her hands on a towel.

"I see you've met Brunhilda. She's a fickle one.

" She took a seat at the head of the table, giving us each a long look before stopping on Billy.

“I heard you'd come back. Haven’t seen the likes of you or your thieving brothers in years. You still owe me three silver pieces for that potion you bought before skipping town. Come to pay up—with interest—or are we done here?”

Billy’s expression shuttered instantly. Without looking, she jabbed Duncan with an elbow. “Can you pay the lady for me?”

Ever the gentleman, Duncan didn’t even mention the shitload of silver she’d won at dice. He just tugged the coins from his pocket and slid them over wordlessly.

Nora tucked the coins down the front of her dress and sat back. She dipped her head in my direction. “I suppose you’re here to talk about Marin’s daughter, then?”

My hand stilled mid-stroke down the cat’s silky back. “You knew my mother?”

She turned toward me with a soft smile. “I did. Quite well, in fact.” Her voice was quiet, steady.

“I helped Marin place the protection spells around Emerald City. Mind you, I’m nothing compared to your mother.

..small potatoes, really. Never had a coven of my own, but I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve. ”

She flicked a finger, and cups lifted themselves from one of the shelves, floating to the table as if carried by an unseen hand. Another gesture, and a steaming pot poured fragrant tea into each of them.

She sniffed the air, eyes narrowing. “Do I smell Connie’s jammy dumplings?”

Reluctantly, I pulled out the pastries I’d squirreled away and set them on the table. She took them with a grateful nod, biting into one and closing her eyes in pleasure.

“Alright, then.” She gestured with half a dumpling. “Ask what you’ve come to ask.”

Billy leaned forward, pulling zero punches. “We’re here to kill The Wicked Witch, but first, Harmony has to complete the trials in Emerald City. We figured you might know a thing or two about them.”

The woman brushed crumbs from her dress and nodded. “Marin set the trials herself. This much I know for sure; the first is a test of wisdom, the second of heart, and the third of courage. She wanted to ensure her daughter had what she needed to face Almira at her strongest.”

She fixed her gaze on me again, eyes serious.

“Your mother believed you could become the most powerful witch ever known, Harmony. But she worried you wouldn’t survive the training it required.

The magic you needed to harness would have lured Almira right to you, and she would’ve killed you long ago. ”

“So she hid me away instead.” I swallowed hard, glancing down at the tea cooling in my hands. “Honestly, after our last couple of run-ins with Almira, I’m not sure hiding helped. She attacked me with some kind of black lightning…and I’ve barely been able to feel my magic since.”

The room went quiet. Finally, the old woman let out a long sigh. “She can do that. Disable magic. Usually, it doesn't last long, but for those of us who have always felt the magic living inside us, the sensation can be jarring. Like a death, almost. And it can be hard to find your way back to it."

"But I will?” My pulse stuttered and I rubbed the cat a little harder, like it was good luck or something. "It's not gone forever?"

"Only you can answer that, Harmony."

A duck and weave. I tried another question. “Have you seen the prophecy my mother left for me? Maybe you could tell m-”

"I have not, and I cannot. The prophecy will be yours when you are ready to receive it.”

Motherfucker. Gods save me from cryptic witches. Why couldn't any of them give me a straight answer about anything?

"I know that isn't what you want to hear, so I'll also tell you this. If anyone can defeat Almira, it’s Marin’s daughter.” She stood abruptly and left the room, returning less than a minute later. She held out her hand and gestured for me to do the same.

“This belonged to your mother." She pressed a pearl ring into my palm and closed my fingers around it.

"When your mother came here for the very last time, preparing for your eventual arrival, her magic was weakening.

She'd been ill for some time and knew this would likely be her last trip.

Rather than use the last of her power to get back to C'an Saas and die in your father's arms, she chose to save a little girl from a burning hut. It was her last deed of service. And when her spirit winked away, her wedding ring was all that was left behind. I know she’d have wanted you to have it.”

I stared down at it, my vocal cords locked up tight.

Hook laid a hand on my back and murmured low words in my ear, but I could barely hear him as I slid the ring onto my finger.

It fit like a dream.

The woman straightened and offered me one last smile. “Now, you must take your leave. Once night falls, it's my job to go and unseal the magic that has bound the trials until now. Good luck to you all. I truly hope with all my heart that you succeed.”

I stood and my feet carried me to the door, but it all felt surreal. Like I was in a dream.

“You stay back a moment, will you, Billy?”

Billy stiffened but nodded, slipping back into the cottage as the rest of us milled outside.

"You alright?" Duncan asked.

"I will be. I'm sad…but happy. It's just...a lot."

Hook's gaze was locked on the front door, mine was locked on my mother’s ring.

My ring.

When Billy stepped out a few minutes later, her face was grim, but she didn’t say a word as we made our way back toward the palace. That was fine by me. My mind was plenty busy.

Elated that I had this piece of the woman who made me—a mother who loved me enough to do all this to guide me. To protect me and help me survive.

Fear trickled through me though, even with that hope. A deep terror sinking into my bones that, no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be the witch—or the daughter—she had hoped for, despite all she’d done.

Wishing I could’ve seen her face, just one time…

But wishes were for children, and there was no time to dwell on all that. I had to hang onto hope and aim for the stars as Pawpaw had told me, swinging my ladder for all I was worth.

I had a witch to kill.