“Are you sure?”
“Yes. We’ll stop by again in the morning if she’s not back by dawn. She can take care of herself—she’s tough.”
“Okay. Come get me if you need help, I promise I don’t mind in the slightest.”
There was a strange pause in the conversation. The wooden boards of the porch creaked.
“Ginger?” the witch asked tightly.
“Hmm?”
“Do you have someone over?”
I froze. Did she know I was here? Impossible.
“No, why?” she asked. “Just me and Brambleby.”
“I just—I just thought… never mind.”
“Why do you ask? Do you want to come in and check?” Ginger asked, immediately on edge. “I told you; I think I have a ghost.”
Her ghost. I supposed I was haunting her, in a way. I smiled at that. She was certainly haunting me, every hour of every day.
“Ghost? Is that what you were talking about last week at the pub?” the orc questioned.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, probably just my imagination,” Ginger explained, a bit too sharply to be casual.
She was feigning nonchalance, but deep down, it was clear she was on edge. And for whatever reason, she didn’t want her friends to know her true feelings.
“We’ll come back and perform a cleansing ritual some time,” the witch said. “Get rid of some of this… weird energy.”
Ginger exhaled in a short puff. “That would be great. Thank you, Kizzi. No rush. Don’t push your other projects aside, I can wait.”
As it sounded like they were finishing up their conversation, I quietly rose to my feet, tucking the journal away, returning the pile of clothes to the chair, and drifting to thewindow. I was careful to keep out of the line of sight of the front door.
I slipped outside before Ginny could return to her bedroom. Though I ached to keep watching my wife, I didn’t want to push my luck.
I liked her mild paranoia, but I didn’t want her terror.
As I retreated into the woods, I replayed the conversion in my head.
A dragon was on the loose. The ice dragon.
The beast should be easy enough to find. At least that gave me something new to do with my free time.
CHAPTER 24
Ginger
Ihastily wiped up spilled ale with a towel, hoping it wouldn’t leave a sticky smear. If I got to the messes quickly enough, before they started to dry, they were much easier to clean up.
My heartbeat thudded painfully in my ears, and I swallowed a wave of nausea. I loved ciders as much as the next folk, but the hangovers were brutal.
The smell of ale nearly made me gag.
“Another round, Ginger?” a human woman asked from the next table over.
I glanced at her over my shoulder and smiled. I hoped I didn’t look as sweaty as I felt. “Sure! Same thing?”
