“I did. That didn’t turn out how I hoped,” I admitted.
“Hmm.” She stared at me long enough that I began to feel uncomfortable, but I refused to fidget under her watchful, heavy gaze. My limbs obeyed my command and remained still.
I cleared my throat.
With a sigh, she opened the door and went inside, leaving the door open.
I stood on the porch. The scent of patchouli, lavender, and warm magic drifted out to meet me, but I could not take another step. It was like a heavy barrier held my feet in place.
She stopped, turned, and looked at me quizzically. “Are you coming?” she asked.
“I—I can’t,” I admitted.
She smiled a small, secret grin. “Right. Yes. Come on in,” she said.
As if it was never there in the first place, the pressure lifted.
I stepped inside.
The mug was hot between my hands, almost painful. Mint-scented steam drifted over my face as I watched the old witch.
She was perched across from me, her silver hair tied back in a loose braid, her own mug resting forgotten on the low table between us.
She stared at me intensely. It was like she could see to my very bones.
“How’s your tea?” she asked. She knew I hadn’t taken a sip yet, and I didn’t plan to.
I didn’t trust the crone.
“Fine, thank you,” I lied.
Her cheek twitched. “Not a fan of mint?”
“Mint is great.” I set the mug on the table next to hers. “But I came to speak. Not for tea.”
She flicked her hand out, gnarled fingers sprawled. “Speak then.”
“You are a witch, yes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
She nodded once.
“And do you know what I am? Who I am?”
Her throat bobbed and she sat up a bit straighter. “Do you know yourself?”
I gritted my teeth. “Answer the question. Please.” An unfamiliar desperation seized my chest, forcing a politeness into my tone that was inherently unnatural.
“This goes both ways. I will answer your questions if you answer mine.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “No.”
“No?” she settled her chin onto her hand, curling into herself where she sat. “How interesting.”
I fought down a swell of violence. I didn’t want to kill the woman. I still needed her help.
A small, buried part of me didn’t wish to harm her, regardless.
“And you?” I asked.
