She snapped her fingers, and a stream of purple light erupted from her fingertips, poured to the ground, and snuck under Imelda’s gown. Imelda lifted the hem of her dress, and the light wound its way up her ankle and then disappeared.
“That should do it, my dear. The spell will keep them clean and dry and impervious to any cuts.”
“Thank you.” Imelda turned to Ambrose. “Now what do you have to say?”
The cloak sighed.I don’t know where she’ll find her own horse on such short notice, but I suppose I could always make room.
“That’s very generous of you,” Imelda said kindly.
The cloak whickered happily.
God help me, thought Ambrose.
Chapter 5
You want to know what is truly boring?
Hearing about someone on a road.
What is there to say, really? There were a couple of birds. The sky changed. The trees darkened.
Attempts at conversation were mulled over in their skulls and quickly abandoned.
At a puddle, Ambrose—trained, of course, in courtly manners—paused and pulled off his cloak so that Imelda might step over the offending water.
Imelda stared at him, stepped around the puddle, and kept moving.
Ambrose’s cloak, at least, assured him that he had done the right thing.
At another juncture in the road, there stood a man hawking wish-granting fruits and love charms, cordials of homemade brambleberry liqueur, and even some toffee apples. Imelda purchased two toffee apples and handed one to Ambrose, who took one bite, spit it out, and glared at her. Imelda was insulted. She did not pause to inspect the piece he’d thrown off to the side of the road, which bore, unfortunately, only half a worm.
***
The enchanted road was not the only thing the witch had given Imelda and Ambrose. There were perhaps a couple other trinkets here and there. And some granola. One can never go amiss in life with some granola. But roads are finicky. Once dusk hits, they start coiling up and languishing across the dirt, and there’s no sense in trying to rile them up again until morning. Imelda and Ambrose were well aware of that fact. Besides, the witch had warned them that the journey would take more than a day, and they had no horse.
No, the cloak does not count.
Which brings us to the inn where they were obliged to stop.
Chapter 6
IMELDA
Imelda gathered up the last of the tired road in her arms.
By now, it had shrunk to the size of a voluminous skein of golden silk. At her touch, the road shivered and yawned. All at once, it zoomed back upon itself, coiling up sharp and tight so that it appeared as a palm-size spool of thread. Imelda smiled, pocketing it.
Her stomach gave a growl of hunger, but it wasn’t food that she wanted… It was another bite of the witch’s apple. Even now, she could taste the remnants of what it offered. That succulent, golden bite of freedom. Ofchoice. And all they had to do was bring the witch her potion.
And yet, there was something else the witch had said that troubled Imelda.
All this time, she’d thought the love lost between herself and Ambrose was gone forever, dissolved in a trade for magic. If they got it back, they could return to Love’s Keep, the place that had become more of a home to her in a year and a day than all the years spent in her father’s kingdom.
But she didn’t want to be tied to someone.
And she couldn’t imagine having ever been in love, much less falling in loveagain, with someone as stiff and pompous as Ambrose. She could tell he felt the same. She remembered the way he’d looked at her when the witch revealed the possibility of regaining what they’d lost, as if the very thought of loving her horrified him.
“This place is horrific,” Ambrose said grimly.
