Page 4 of The Unbound Witch

Of course. I hadn’t realized she’d be faced with a whole world of changes in a new form. Guilt swept through me once more as we closed the distance to the town.

Vines crept up the sides of the homes packed so close together, if not for the varying finishes on the outside, I would have imagined they were all one building. Looking down onto the town, people came and went, some with carts, others with their families, casually strolling the narrow brick walkways between the towering buildings.

The streets were free of debris and packed with humans. Just the sort of place we could sleep for a night without drawing too much attention. I stayed well behind Grey as he approached an older man with a long pole, lighting an oil-fueled street lantern. The concept of living without magic was jarring to witness.

The men talked for several minutes, Grey pointing back to me and then continuing his conversation. Several wary glances later, the old man shook his head and turned away, continuing his work as Grey returned, his chin down.

“We’re not going to get anywhere with you looking like that,” he said, gesturing to the rips in my pants.

“Willow shot me with an arrow and Onyx stabbed me with a knife in the final Trial. Sorry if that’s inconvenient for you.”

I’d meant to snap at him, to release some of the fire within me, but it didn’t come out that way. It was far more of a sincere apology than I’d intended it to be.

Grey tilted his head to the side, raising a shoulder. Kirsi was still pestering him.

“Kirsi, for the love of all things holy, if you don’t stop flicking my ear, I’m going to send you back to the afterlife myself.”

“Oh! Promise?” Her voice came from right beside me, though I’d had no idea she was there.

He looked to the sky and took a deep breath. “Do you want to try your hand at being useful?”

“No,” she answered, and he jumped again.

“Raven needs something different to wear. Preferably long and warm. Can you manage it?”

“I can barely manage to touch you. Do you really think I can steal clothing?”

“You’ll never know unless you try,” he said, drawing out the last word as if it would entice her.

“No, I’m pretty confident already.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. My body protested the gesture with pain I ignored. “It’s fine. I can do it myself.”

“You limp. You don’t have magic, and your stomach keeps growling. You’ll give yourself away in a heartbeat,” Grey pointed out, shooting me a hard look.

“I don’t need a caretaker.” I walked away before he could stop me, letting the anger surge through my veins as if it were a balm, soothing me.

Not many women would leave their clothing on a line overnight, especially in autumn. With limited options, I sank into a small space between two buildings, hoping it was dark enough to conceal me as I watched the passersby.

Several horse-drawn carts meandered down the road, carrying wares and people from one place to another.Listening to the hushed tones of lilting voices, I waited. Their accents differed from ours, though the language was the same. Taking a moment of peace, I closed my eyes as the cool breeze brushed my cheeks, feeling so much more than I wanted to, from the wounds in my legs to the scar on my soul. The ache, Goddess be damned, the ache of that look in his eyes, the betrayal as the spell ripped from me. Bastian may have died, but his memory would always be a living nightmare in every breath I took.

I didn’t think I’d ever truly live again. Not without the heaviness of shame and horror that came with what had happened. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t in control. I’d suffer with the guilt every single day; the pain of missing him.

I could have crumpled to the ground as grief swept in, completely renewed and vengeful. But I couldn’t let them see how broken I was. Not when Kirsi had died, and Grey had lost his family. No. These feelings were mine alone to bear. My burden to carry.

The snap of a rock shooting from beneath an old wagon wheel wrenched me from my despondent thoughts.A towering woman hustled her daughters across the street, her hands firmly on their backs as she hurried them along.

“Julia, darling, don’t fidget. The Seeker is always watching.”

“Yes, Mother,” the girl whispered in a sheepish tone, looking over her shoulder toward a large building at the end of the road.

A cast iron circle topped the edifice of the stone structure, branding it the crown jewel of the odd town. Twice the height of the other buildings, with arched windows encased in detailed carvings, one could even say it was beautiful, if not for the overseer standing watch on the immense steps. Dressed in a long black robe with a thick book tucked under his arm, he surveyed the movement on the street as if he were Lord and High Executioner of the village. His dark, keen eyes locked onto the girl and watched her like a predator as she trailed her vigilant mother.

Once the girl had vanished, his pointed nose turned to me. He shouldn’t have been able to see me in the shadows, but I was confident those black eyes could find me like a beacon in the night.

He took three steps forward, rubbing his stubbled jaw, until he finally turned away, looking over the evening crowd. I used that opportunity to sprint through the gap between the buildings, content to just wear what I’d come in, judgmental humans be damned.

Stepping out from the houses, I wove my way back to where I’d left Grey standing, though I shied away from the bright orange glow of the lamppost.