~ 21 ~ What Lurks in the Forest

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The creature had led him to a small old cottage, which unlike Lenesa's and Kivirra's, was made of wood instead of stone. The building seemed less welcoming, with harsh pointy gables and thin, blank windows that alluded to a dark and dreary interior.

Beyond the front porch, the wisp that was not Shwei—he should have guessed by the color, Theiden thought—had approached a woman looking about the same age as Lenesa, wearing a long dark teal wrap that draped across her shoulders and around her waist. The hem of the woman's black skirt was embroidered with small red beads, and Darren couldn't help but think that the design made the outfit seem splattered in blood.

"My dear Goru," the woman was saying, fondly bringing up a hand to stroke the wisp before her, "what have you brought back for me?"

The wisp, Goru, gave a crackling warble in reply that sounded more like the wracking cough of a seasoned smoker. Theiden cringed at the sound, and at his slight movement, the woman immediately looked up and pinned him with her gaze.

She was a witch—of that he was certain. But right away, Theiden could tell that she was of a different sort. While the woman before him still shared the same midnight-silver hair, unnatural violet eyes, and the characteristic Alazomian height of the other two witches he had met in these mountains, that was where the similarities ended.

The most obvious difference was the dark, swirling ink pattern that rose from the witch's fingertips to her elbows—at first, Theiden had thought she was wearing gloves. A heartbeat passed, then two more. But these markings did not fade away like the ones he had seen on Lenesa's fingertips.

His eyes drew upwards to the witch's face. A milky film had spread over the woman's left eye, making it almost as white as the eyes he had seen on the Turned faun, save for a slight lilac hue in the center where the iris and pupil should be. Black tendrils had also crept up and across the woman's neck and face, stretching towards the ruined eye.

Theiden took a hesitant step back.

"Ah," the witch said flatly. "The faun warned me about you. It said you've come to kill us all, and ruin the beauty of these mountains with your hatred."

Theiden swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. "I—"

"And of course you are," the witch continued with a snarl. "Your kind does nothing but spread pain and anguish." She raised a hand, red sparks forming at her fingertips. "At least now I can get rid of you, once and for all."

Theiden would have been dead if not for Lenesa's training. The spell came at him with such force and speed that the ground where he had been standing seconds earlier exploded in a shower of rocks and dirt, and the sound of the impact echoed after. He tumbled to the side, rolling on the ground until he was out of reach.

The witch snarled, obviously displeased with Theiden's escape, and raised her hand to try again. Theiden scrambled back to his feet and clutched the hunting dagger in his hands, certain that he would not emerge from this encounter unscathed.

This time something black and electric shot towards him, crackling as it sped through the air. Theiden threw himself out of the way again, trying to deflect the spell with his dagger as he did so. The blade snagged on the spell and stayed in his hand for a heartbeat more before it was ripped out of his grasp and flung several feet away.

He sucked in a breath and clenched his stinging hand. His whole arm shook with the force of the spell, and there was a slight metallic ringing in the air that echoed long after the blade had been knocked aside. The sound was disorienting, and Theiden shook his head and blinked, trying to regain focus.

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