Page 129 of Balance
Well, at least he wasn’t denying that I did, in fact, unclothe him.
“And I do not have a concussion. Sometimes I feel like we’re having two separate conversations,” he continued, still unable to meet my eyes. “You’re so hard to follow.”
Was that a compliment or an insult? I wasn’t sure. I bit my lip, slinking back into the chair across from him.
Kathleen broke into the awkward silence, tapping the spoon against the lip of the cauldron. “Miles, I need your help with this.”
He turned from me, face still red, and moved to the hearth. “What is that, hydrangea?”
“I need it for a spell,” she replied, stirring the purple potion. “I only have a few hours left to get it right.”
“What kind of spell?” he asked, peering into the bowl.
Instead of answering, she only hummed under her breath, and the question faded into reminiscence while the two witches conversed softly as they worked over the fire.
The rest of the day passed in a languid slowness as Miles and Kathleen spoke and stirred; although Kathleen never did answer Miles’s question as to what they were working on, she did manage to give him a lesson on witch etiquette.
I found the whole thing to be rather soft, in my opinion, and I fell asleep at the table mid-lecture.
They let me be until dinner. I woke up on the bed when Miles’s shook me awake, and the three of us sat around the table, wolfing down potato stew.
“We’re headed out tomorrow,” Miles said suddenly, placing his bowl back on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He nodded to Kathleen. “Thank you for taking care of us, but we really need to get back.”
Kathleen’s brows drew together, and she frowned down into her coffee, but she didn’t reply.
His leg bounced under the table, and when he spoke next his voice was shy. “Are you coming with us?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied with a light cough, eyes drifting toward the bubbling cauldron. “You’ll be just fine. Thank you for visiting,” she said, as if our meeting was entirely planned. “It was an honor to have this meal with you both.”
There was a sense of resignation in her voice, causing a chill down my spine. I lowered my coffee mug from my lips.
Even Miles had picked up on the strange statement. “Kathleen?” He pushed his seat back from the table. “Is everything okay?”
She covered her mouth. “It’s getting dark. Could you please run to the garden once more, Miles? I have one more thing I need to do.”
His sharp gaze moved over her slight form. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing unexpected.” Her shoulders tensed as the light from the hearth began to grow brighter, lightening the shadows that spread through the room. She moved her hands to her lap, shoulders tensing, as her words rushed out breathlessly. “I only need some hydrangea root—you used the rest earlier. Please get it for me. It’s in the grove where I found you. Do you remember? You should be okay to walk that far.”
“Why do you need it tonight?” he protested, voice wary and brows furrowing. However, despite his doubtful expression, he’d already moved to his feet. “Can’t it wait?”
“No, but don’t worry,” Kathleen said, also standing. “Everything will be ready by the time you get back.”
A chill seemed to pass through the air, and Miles and I exchanged an uneasy glance.
I waited until Miles limped out of the house, grumbling under his breath, before I turned to Kathleen, twisting my fingers in my lap. It hadn’t felt right to interrupt earlier. “Do you think it’s okay for him to go out? He’s still hurt.”
“He’ll be fine,” she answered without pause, moving to her feet and returning to the cauldron. She grabbed a checkered rag and grasped the handle. “I’m more certain now than ever before.” She returned to the table, setting the pot over a crocheted burgundy potholder. Then she lifted the lid, waving her left hand through the smoke as she breathed in the strong lavender and eucalyptus scent. Despite pressuring Miles to leave quickly, she didn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry.
The sense of foreboding that had all but vanished since yesterday returned ten-fold.
“What’s that?” I asked distractedly, glancing toward the door—the room was modestly-sized to begin with, but now my escape seemed impossibly far. She was acting very strange, and I still wasn’t sure if I trusted her or not.
No, I thought as my gaze wandered over her face. She was entirely engrossed in the purplish potion she’d brewed, and my instincts were screaming that something big was happening… something life-changing.
So, no, I didn’t trust her.
It was one thing to be with her while Miles was near, but what would possess him to leave me with someone I hardly knew? He didn’t even know her very well, for that matter. While she might have played an important role in our world at some point, she was now a hermit.
