Page 11 of The Unbound Witch

Ichased Grey into the humble home, bolting up the stairs to warn Kirsi that we needed to leave. The room was empty.

“Kir, if you’re invisible, it’s time to go.”

No response.

I ran back down to find Grey helping the old couple gather provisions.

“Fill your arms with whatever you can manage,” Victoria yelled, grabbing her book. “We’ve been waiting for this day.”

I couldn’t process those words as I rushed around the house, snatching anything I thought they may want. Blankets and a painting of a little blonde girl with great big eyes. Everyone else had grabbed food.

“We’ll need to get the horse out of the barn and hitch him to the other wagon,” Henry said. “Can you help me, son?”

Grey flinched at the final word. Only a split-second reaction to the endearment, but enough for me to register. He’d opened up tonight, and that place inside of him was still raw.

“I tried to get the horse,” Kirsi whispered from beside me. “But the asshole was too spooked.”

My shoulders dropped with relief. “It’s fine, Kir. Just stay close.”

“You can’t see me, but I’m with you,” she assured me, and it was the first time I really felt like she was the Kirsi I’d known my whole life.

Pushing out the door, the chant of the mob marching up the hill grew louder.

“Burn the witches! Burn the witches!”

We rushed to the barn, passing Victoria as she ran back into the house. I turned to help her, but Henry grabbed my arm.

“That’ll be no place for you,” he said, his eyes flicking to my stomach.

I’d almost forgotten the lie. Had it not been dark, he might have seen the red flush of my cheeks as guilt slammed into me. We’d brought the mob, and they would suffer for it. Just because they were good people. Kind even.

“Grey,” I hissed. “We have to do something.”

He’d led the horse out of the barn, though it neighed and protested, likely still spooked from Kirsi’s attempted help.

“I’m thinking,” he snapped. “That mob is going to be here within the next five minutes. That’s not a lot of time for genius masterminding.”

“Not to worry, my boy.” Henry clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve got a plan already. The second wagon is on the north side of the barn. Get old Hank hooked up and we’ll be along.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked, rushing beside Grey.

Kirsi’s voice popped up out of nowhere, quiet, so as not to be overheard. “You guys aren’t very observant. Did you not see all the dried herbs and vials in the house?”

“Everyone has that, Kir.” I looked over my shoulder as Grey backed the horse up to a wagon we hadn’t seen before, covered in stretched canvas. The crowd of humans, though still only walking, grew closer. “Three minutes, max.”

“Not here. Weren’t you listening? That’s a sign of witchcraft. The old couple are pretending to be witches. Something fun is about to happen.”

She beamed, and if I could have swatted her arm, I would have.

“Your idea of fun is creepy,” Grey said, hooking the last belt into place.

Kirsi swirled around him, near giddy, but my head began to pound, and I couldn’t concentrate on her excitement. The lack of sleep and single meal, alongside the heavy emotions, caught up to me. I swayed, and Grey caught my elbow.

“Okay?” His green eyes narrowed as he held onto my arm.

I sighed. “I’m fine.”

“Here they come,” Kirsi whispered, vanishing again.