Page 117 of Balance
Still, though, I doubted she constructed the entire building on her own.
Right?
Miles sat on the packed dirt floor beside me, sharing his body heat with me even though we’d been given two quilts. While we warmed, Kathleen continued to busy herself at the hearth.
He blew into the deep navy mug she’d handed him just a moment before and asked the questions I’d been wondering myself. “Kathleen,” he said, cautious wonderment barely concealed in his voice and posture. “Have you been here all this time? How did you get all this stuff out here? Did youbuildthis house yourself?”
She’d tied her gray hair into a bun on her head, loose tendrils falling over her shoulders. Under her coat, she’d worn a long black dress, and, even though I was trying to not assume things, as Miles seemed quite sensitive on this topic, I still couldn’tnotsee the correlation between her and every fictional witch I’d ever seen on television.
I was going to admit it, even if only to myself: despite her innocent eyes, she definitely gave off evil witch vibes.
Miles and I had lost our trail, got lost in the woods, had stumbled upon a witch’s cabin. And now she was going to feed us.
Only a fool couldn’t see how this would end.
Besides, it wasn’t like I was assuming anything far out of left field. The womanwasa witch—seeing as she was Miles’s Er Bashou proxy. She fit the picture perfectly. She’d even been stirring her cauldron, throwing random herbs in there, before Miles’s questions.
Was she working on a spell? What was she going to do to us? If she was related to my adoptive parents in any way, she couldn’t be trusted.
She glanced up with a frown. “Of course not. You’re no more subtle than you used to be.”
Miles’s face turned pink and he sipped at his tea. “I’m subtle.”
Yeah, she was up to something. She had that look about her. Someone in this room was definitely going to die.
I was squishy in the middle with not much muscle. I’d taste terrible. So that left only Miles—and the dude was built. This wasexactlywhy working out and getting buff was detrimental to your health.
Why wasn’t he more concerned about this?
Kathleen sighed, lowered a lid on her soup, and pointed her wooden spoon at him. “This is an abandoned hunting cabin, Miles. No, I do not want to go back, but you will need to. The nearest town is ten miles north. I’ll point you in the right direction after you can make the trip.”
Miles’s expression fell, and he seemed genuinely disappointed. I didn’t know much about the others and their relationships with their officers, but he seemed to really be attached to the female witch already.
This didn’t bode well.
“But how do youlive?” he asked, concerned—and completely not missing the most important question. “Why haven’t you gone back home?”
She frowned at him, setting the spoon aside and pulling a beige, crocheted shawl over her shoulders while she limped to a chair. Besides a small table, and a bed only big enough for one person—the room held no other furnishings: only jars—so many jars!—and dried herbs.
In fact, there was basil right there, hanging out to dry along the side of the hearth.
My suspicions deepened.
“I’m notdead,” she answered, placing emphasis on the last word. “I’ve been making my own supplies and my own food for years.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry about me and focus on that leg.” She gestured toward Miles, and the tea he’d been drinking, and his protests died. Then, she leveled her gaze on me. My heart leapt into my throat at the sudden attention.
“You’ve barely mentioned her. That’s quite rude,” she said to Miles, her gaze moving over me appraisingly.
Miles spit out his drink and my skin boiled under her scrutiny.
“I’m sorry,” I spoke first, moving my attention to my own tea. It was a slight pink color, and I wasn’t quite sure if I should trust it or not, though it smelled heavenly.
“Why are you apologizing?” Kathleen continued, leaning forward in her seat. “Mu isn’t mild-mannered nor apologetic. Not for anything.”
“You’re more concerned with her apologizing and not that she’s a girl?” Miles asked.
