Page 112 of Balance
Impossible.
“It blocks spells cast from other witches—this witch is trying to keep something magicalout,” Miles was saying, glaring despondently into the forest. “I can’t pinpoint where they are either.”
“Maybe it’s Sasquatch,” I offered. “And that’s how it’s stayed hidden so long.”
Miles glanced at me, sudden excitement in his gaze. “That’s a brilliant theory.”
“I wasjoking.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes, focusing instead on his explanation. We were getting somewhere at least. We only needed to know that it hadn’t affected Miles’s other abilities. “Didn’t you use a spell to heal yourself just now, and last night… to find the cave?”
Miles blinked, then glanced at where he’d fallen, frowning. “No, that was something else entirely. That has more to do with who we are, than actual magic.”
Same difference.
“That doesn’t change anything,” he continued, shaking his head. “We find water, I should be fine to throw together something to fight infection. I don’t have to use magic.” Miles looked at me again, his expression calmer, and eyes warm. “Thank you.”
I shook my head, not sure wherethishad come from. “For what?”
“For pulling me back,” he said. “You can stop now.”
What in the world was he talking about? “Stop what?”
He didn’t answer—instead he grabbed my hand, pressing the back of my fingers to his unmarred cheek. My skin hummed where he touched me. The shadowy edges of the fog lifted; the day was suddenly clear once more, and the echoing calls of wildlife sang out around us.
“Thank you,” he said again. “I’m starting to get it now.”
That was jolly for him, but didn’t explain anything to me in the slightest.
“Can you give it to me now?” I was on my knees across from Miles, my hand outstretched between us. “You promised.”
“I did no such thing.” Miles was sitting against the base of a tree, clutching the knife against his chest, studying me with alarm. “In fact, I told you ‘no’.”
“Actually,”—I sat back on my heels, twisting my hair behind me into a knot; if I was going to do this, I could afford no distractions—“you asked if I ‘knew how to use it’, and I told you yes.”
“That’s not a promise!”
I lowered my hands back to my side, shooting him an even look. The man looked almost adorable—jaw set and eyes round—staring as if he’d seen a monster. “That’s not a ‘no’ either.”
His face was rife with caution, voice fearful, as he asked. “What are you going to do with it?”
I glanced toward a squirrel peacefully cleaning its adorable little face some distance away.
We’d found refuge in a moderately-sized ring deep within the shelter of a thicket. The clearing was almost fairy-tale like, complete with a collection of late-season berries and a gently trickling stream. On top of that, there were various herbs grown around the circle—some of which were definitely not native to the northeastern United States.
Still, I wasn’t going to complain. Miles had been able to make some sort of poultice from them, lathering it on his leg and face, and that was good enough for me.
Still, there was the matter of food. We were both starving. Berries couldn’t exactly fill an empty stomach.
If only he weren’t so stubborn. I sighed, watching the squirrel.
“I told you what I was going to do with it.”
“You can’t just kill it!” he protested, not at all pleased by my statement.
“I really don’t think this is a pilgrimage anymore,” I pointed out, gaze flicking to his leg, and my concern deepened. While he’d been able to limp through the forest well enough, thanks to a handy walking stick he’d acquired, he was still in serious risk of falling ill. “Weneedfood.”
He groaned, shifting his weight as he moved to stand. “Fine. I’ll—”
I frowned at him, standing, and still holding my hand to him.
