Page 148 of Wings of Lies
The smallest, most infinitesimal part of me had the urge to step closer to Aspen, but I dug that traitorous bit a grave. Although, I wasn’t enjoying the tension in his shoulders or the sound of scavenging flesh flies.
“Darlings, don’t worry, I only kill when there isn’t a fair exchange,” a pleasant voice called out. “Please, enter, and tell Magda what you wish to know.”
Aspen scoffed. “Don’t die.” Then, as a shot of overwhelming worry hit me, he added a strangled, “Please.”
I couldn’t help but stare at his back as the Aspen I cared for peeked through. I needed to find a way for him to stay.
He moved through the door, Oliver and I at his heels. Once through the threshold, my face went slack.
I glanced at Oliver, who surveyed the small cottage with a similar surprised expression.
“Wow, it’s pretty nice in here,” he said, admiring the living room.
There were no dilapidated moldy boards to be found. The oldest thing in the cottage were the trinkets and gems lining shelves near a well-crafted fireplace. Even then, they were well-kept. Although, they stood apart from the rest of the interior. The rest appeared to be straight out of an interior design magazine.
Light feminine laughter pealed to our side. “The skulls and decaying wood help to keep the riffraff away.”
The voice belonged to a sensual female. She stood in her pristine kitchen under a ceiling decorated with herbs. She looked young, which meant nothing in Elora. But by the surprise on Oliver’s face, we were both expecting an old hag. Not a female with long goldenhair in a tight ice-blue dress with no warts, moles, wrinkles, or scars to be seen on her skinny frame.
From the sneer lifting Aspen’s lips, I think he was the only one unaffected by the unexpected appearance.
Magda smiled at his sour expression. “I’m surprised to have you back, prince, after the last time.” Her eyes flicked to me and back to his glare.
I shot him a side glance. “This is the witch that told you?—”
“That the female I’d have a guardian bond with would destroy my world.”
“What?” He never mentioned that part in all his slivers.
Magda smiled, delighted by his answer and my shock.
“Figured you wouldn’t want to know that part. But I no longer care. Soon, it won’t matter.”
It’s not Aspen talking. It’s the rune.
Magda laughed, enjoying our tension. “Well then, take a seat. Rest. Let me hear your questions.” Keeping her smile, she gestured to the cushioned chairs by her fireplace. “Would anyone like tea? Or apples?” she asked, like a doting host.
Oliver shot me a questioning glance, and we both sat across from each other. I shrugged, wincing at the movement. We were both hungry.But was her food safe?I eyed Aspen, who stood behind me, his narrowed gaze all for Magda.
“They’re not poisoned, just your average apples. And, sweetness, I have a tea to help soothe whatever ails you,” she added, bustling around in her spotless white kitchen.
I guess not much got by her.
Oliver shrugged and nodded. “We’ll have apples, and she’ll take the tea. The princeling…” he glanced at Aspen, who continued to glare. “He doesn’t matter.”
Her silky dress swayed back and forth as her dainty hand released two apples into Oliver’s lap. He handed me one. Not correcting Oliver, Aspen took nothing, hands more occupied with digging into my chair.
“So,” Magda handed me a painted teacup and gracefully sat beside Oliver. “This is how I work. You ask a question, I’ll give you a price for the information, and you accept, or you leave.”
I let the steam of lavender and herbs hit my nose and took a sip. Its warmth spread into my skin and bones, soothing and mending. The relief eased my tension, making me wonder why everyone considered her dangerous. The witch was helpful, gorgeous, seemingly kind, and had a home most people would die for, at least in the interior.
“Okay, I guess I’ll start,” I said between sips.
Magda waved to my cup. “Please, finish. It’s best to drink the tincture all in one sitting to receive the full benefits. We will wait.” She smiled, gentle and encouraging. Any apprehension I had left slipped away.
They all waited patiently for me. Oliver’s obscene crunching and my twitching feet hitting the leg of the chair filled the awkward silence. Drawing out the last sip as long as possible, I thought of my questions. My stomach twisted into a knotted mess.
At the last drop of tea, I set my cup on the coffee table, ignoring how it clattered against the wood.
