“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just… You haven’t seen him lately. Getting around becomes more of a struggle every day. He hides it well, but it’s there. It wouldn’t be right for me to go play while he works himself to death.”
If Zeke rolled his eyes any further into his head they would have stayed there. “You are quite possibly the most dramatic person I’ve ever met. Connall is built like an Axian destrier, even with a bum leg. He was running the place before you existed, don’t forget. Pretending he is incapable without your help is an insult to his hard work.”
Well, when you put it that way…
“And… I really don’t want to ask someone else to go to the ball with me, so you’d be doing me a solid.”
“Ugh, Zeke, you know I’m not cut out for high society events. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb among the noble ladies.”
“Just do me a favor and consider it.” He could not look more sincere if he tried.Damn it.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
Reluctantly,Hazel approached Connall about attending the Tournament of Champions the following morning. And, as she’d predicted, he was more than eager for her to get out and “experience life”—whatever that meant. Only she knew how much life she’d incidentally experienced recently.
Between her run-in with Slaide Elias, nearly becoming lunch for the Striga, and then erupting in a blinding white light—she still couldn’t admit it might have been magic—she’d experienced enough life for an eternity. And now, she would add the Tournament of Champions to that list.
But first, Hazel decided she’d pay Agnes another visit. She’d had too much on her mind lately. Too many loose ends needing tied up and questions begging to be answered.
Several times now, she’d thought about telling Connall about the day in the clearing. About the Striga and the mysterious stranger who swooped in to snatch her from certain death. But each time she approached the subject, Hazel couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not for fear of repercussion, because Connall would never. She just couldn’t stand the guilt of shouldering him with more to worry about.
On her way to Agnes’s home, Hazel passed through town. Larksridge was abuzz with busy townsfolk as they prepared for the newcomers who would descend upon them, a swarm of flies to honey. The farmers gathered what produce they could from their fields and the best livestock would be brought in for slaughter. Everyone had a role to play.
And tomorrow, Connall would send Hazel off on the back of a wagon with a smile on his face. He’d already enlisted a couple of young men to assist him at Briar & Rose without a second thought, and she swelled with pride at the thought of not one, buttwo, people being required in her absence.
Before long, the noise and crowds were behind her, and Hazel was met with the quiet solitude of the lands beyond Larksridge. The forest grew thick around her, and the familiar tingle along her skin alerted her to her arrival at the wards.
Through the window, Hazel could see Agnes was busy, as usual. She made to clear her throat, hoping to gently alert Agnes to her presence, when the woman said without turning around, “Hazel! What are you still standing there for? Come in.”
Hazel smiled.Of course, she knew I was here.
“Come, have a seat.” Agnes turned, waddling over with two cups of tea. She sat and gestured for Hazel to do the same.
Hazel was surprised at the state of Agnes’s home as she took her seat. She’d never been an organized woman, but her cottage was in an unusual state of disarray.
Animal bones and hides littered almost every surface, accompanied by stones and crystals, sachets of herbs, and an ornate crystal ball on her back table.
“It’s good to see you, auntie.” Hazel sipped from the perfectly heated tea. “What is all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the curiosities and trinkets scattered around.
A flash of orange outside the window caught her eye as a familiar orange feline sprang onto the windowsill. Realizing he had an audience, however, he let out a huffed yowl and leapt down. Hazel blinked her confusion away and returned her attention to Agnes.
“Hmm? Oh, that. I’m packing some goods for the vendor marketplace at that little brat’s tournament. I don’t fancy myself as a greedy woman, but a little spare coin hurts no one.”
Hazel almost dropped her mug in shock. “H-how in all the gods is that safe for you? Going into the middle of a busy town so close to Ravenhold… it seems too risky. How will you practice without being caught?”
Agnes laughed her off. “My dear, this world will never be safe for people like me. But I won’t be practicing any witchcraft. However, it just so happens that tea and herbs are not only highly sought after, but completely overlooked.Which tells me they haven’t seen many green witches.” She shrugged. “The locals eat this stuff up. Anything for a miracle cure. And if the rumors hold any weight, I’ll be safer in plain sight than here.”
Hazel frowned. It wasn’t normal for Agnes to be so reckless. “What do you mean? What rumors?”
Something clattered outside, and Hazel thought she heard a hushed whisper. But Agnes hadn’t so much as blinked in concern, so Hazel took a deep breath, willing herself to relax.
Agnes sighed. “Nothing to concern yourself with right now. Let’s just say some of the King’s dogs might come sniffing around, and I’d rather not be here if they do.”
Hazel’s eyes bugged, taken aback by Agnes’s nonchalance. Yet she couldn’t quite find the right words to express her concern.
“Say what you want to say, dear.” Agnes gestured around her lazily. “No one can hear you out here.”
She had a question brewing, but despite the warded cottage and its remote location, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud. Something was off. She couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched.
