Page 91 of The Sea Witch
“Everything satisfactory, sir?” the innkeeper asked, standing in the hallway.
“We’ll need that food brought up as soon as possible,” he answered. Before he shut the door, he added, “My thanks.”
The moment the door was closed, Alys sank to the floor. She blinked groggily as the room spun—but no, it was Ben, gathering her up in his arms and carrying her to the bed.
He laid her down upon the mattress, and quickly got to work removing her buckled shoes. His hands upon her feet, even through her stockings, shot tiny filaments of energy up her legs. But it wasn’t enough.
“You need balancing,” he said, studying her gravely.
“Know what... balancing is?” she mumbled.
“Not precisely. It helps you replenish your magic, and involves touch. Food, too.”
“Quick study, Sailing Master.”
He rolled her onto her back and braced his hands on either side of her head. The glamour was thinning now, and the humble-featured man she’d transformed him into was quickly disappearing. His own face emerged like a proud oak from a stand of scrub trees.
She reached up to run her fingers along his angled jaw. “You, but not you.” She touched her own face. “Me, but not me.”
There was a knock at the door. “Brought you bread, cheese, fruit, and ale, sir.”
“Leave it in the hallway,” he called.
“As you like.” There was a sound of a tray being set down, and then retreating footsteps.
He leaned over her, concern written across his face. “I’ll be right back.”
“Watch me fly from the room the moment your back’s turned,” she slurred.
The bed creaked as he rose. She stared at the beams on the ceiling. Despite the cleanliness of the inn, someone had missed a cobweb, but Alys didn’t mind a spider here and there. They were her sisters, after all, some of them devouring males when they no longer served them.
Ben reappeared, holding a tray laden with food. As soon as he returned, Alys released her final tenuous hold on the glamour, exhaling with relief when she no longer had to keep it up.
His face was fully restored to its original likeness, handsome as a hawk. He set the tray on the bedside table before using a few pillows to prop Alys up.
“Open.” He held a piece of apple to her mouth.
“Can feed myself,” she protested, but then her protests died when he popped the morsel of fruit between her lips.
She closed her eyes and groaned at the sweet taste. Flavors were always amplified whenever she ate anything during balancing. She’d been known to polish off an entire plate of iced cakes as she revived her magic.
When he fed her a piece of sharp cheddar, she moaned.
“What?” she demanded as Ben stared at her, his gaze heating.
“It doesn’t signify.” He shook his head. “Here’s more.”
When he moved to place more food in her mouth, she turned away. “Can feed myself.”
He handed her pieces of apple, cheese, and bread, which she steadily ate. They were quiet like this for a while, the sounds of traffic coming faintly through the window, and voices below in the taproom and footfalls upon the wooden floor.
“The woman in your dream,” he said after some time. “The one who was...”
“Hanged.” Could she trust him with this? “My sister. The gentlest person you’d ever meet. She’d bring animals home if they were sick or wounded. Always gathered wild herbs and collected mushrooms. She could speak with birds.”
“And she taught you?”
“Before she could, she was executed by a mob three years ago for being a witch. Speaking with birds, that’s something I made myself learn, and I taught others. After she was gone.”
