My mouth fell open at his bluntness, though I supposed he was right.
He lowered his voice so only I could hear. “I grew up in a castle. People thought the same of me, until I left the safety of those walls and started working within the frontlines along with everyone else. Don’t cower from scrutiny. Stare back, Charlotte.”
I never thought of staring back. The ironic thing was society deemed it rude to stare, yet people still did it and so openly too. At least to me. As if I was the exception. I was different, so I wasn’t considered a part of them, a part of their society. The rules did not apply to me. I figured staring back would only make me stand out more. I wanted to blend in so badly that I feared doing anything that would make me a bigger target.
My eyes met the angry, hooded ones of a man sitting hunched over on a stoop. My glare held firm as we passed him by. His eyes widened and immediately dropped to the ground. I let out a breath and grinned, until I turned back to Sebastian to see him donning an expression that could kill, and it was aimed directly at the man. It was especially disturbing because his face was so blank and unmoving yet filled with so much barely restrained malice.
I frowned at him. He ignored it, giving me a smirk. “Very good, killer.”
We reached an arched doorway made of gray stone. An oil lamp hung above us, the soft light illuminated the short corridor. He knocked twice against the rotting wood. It was warped and split at the bottom, creating the perfect passageways for mice. I shuddered. The door opened to a darkened sliver as the one on the other side peeked through, then it swung open.
“Ah, you must be, Sir Harrow.” He was a stout man with a round belly. He wore a fine, pale gray, wool suit, and his gray hair hung to his shoulders, curling at the ends. He eyed us both with rounded spectacles. His shining brown eyes landed on Sebastian’s chest, then wandered over to look me up and down. “Is this your betrothed?”
My eyes slid over to Sebastian, and I couldn’t help but roll them at his proud smirk. As I was about to protest, he beat me to it. “You could say that. Allow me to introduce you to Miss Quackinbush, Prudence Quackinbush.”
My head turned slowly to him, eyes narrowed, as lethal as an agitated cat. His eyes never left the man, but his smirk turned into a full-blown nefarious smile.
The man’s eyes widened slightly, but he recovered with a cheery smile. “Ah, lovely ... to meet you.”
I nodded once, mustering some form of a smile.
“I don’t believe I ever got your first name, Sir Harrow.”
I rushed to answer. “Blort.”
Sebastian’s head snapped to me. His brow furrowed with confusion. This time my lips twisted up into my own nefarious smile.
“Ah, well, Sir Harrow ... Miss Quackinbush, please, come in.” He stepped aside, extending his arm.
It was a rather cramped, dimly lit room. A crackling hearth was opposite the door. Books littered every available surface, more were crammed tightly into various bookshelves pressed against the walls. Glass jars were just as plentiful as books. They appeared to be filled with herbs, liquids, stones, some even contained bones. Each jar had a piece of parchment secured with twine around the neck. I read the one closest to me.
Sand from the Delcor Isles. Seems to be made up almost entirely of finely ground obsidian. The shores a stark black, the water just as dark, appearing like a liquid abyss.
Perhaps, they were all personal notes. This man must have been some sort of explorer or academic, but from the looks of it, he hadn’t settled on just one topic of study.
“Please, have a seat.” There were four leather, wingback chairs surrounding a coffee table. Books covered the entire surface, and a silver tray sat atop the pile. I sat stiffly as Sebastian lounged back, arms draped casually across the armrests. The man scooped up a fluffy, white cat that slept on one of the chairs. As he sat down, the cat settled on his lap and returned to its slumber.
“Ah, terribly sorry. I have not introduced myself to your betrothed.” His warm eyes landed on me. “Please, call me Gregor.”
“Very nice to meet you, Gregor.” I smiled.
“Would either of you care for some tea?”
“We’re unfortunately short on time, but thank you,” Sebastian replied. I supposed we were all short on time given the looming threat of Alaric. Though the people of Kilthorne had no idea an army of vampires was soon to descend upon them.
“Of course, then let’s get right to it.” He picked up a rolled parchment from a side table and unfurled it, placing it atop the silver tray between us. It was a map. “The local witch population has dwindled since the portal opened. People have become exceptionally hostile towards them due to the rumors. Either the witches have gone far from here to another land, or they have disappeared so well within our land that they are untraceable. Though one witch has refused to leave. Her magic is tied to the land she resides on. It has been in her family for centuries, so naturally, she will never give it up. Which means she is quite protective of it. Visitors are not often welcomed. But she’s the only witch I could find. Therefore, your only option.”
“And this is where she resides?” Sebastian nodded towards the map.
“Yes. It’s a bit of a trek and deep within the Hushed Woods—”
“The Hushed Woods is real?” I blurted. I’d read about the tales of the Hushed Woods and its haunting silence, but what was truly fearsome was whatever broke that silence. I thought all the stories to be folklore. I supposed I should not be surprised as to what was real anymore.
“Unfortunately,” he continued. “I must warn you both, it could be a perilous journey. Not to mention once you arrive at the witch’s keep, that’s an entirely other hazard amongst itself if you are not welcome.”
“Thank you for your concern, though it’s all a risk we must take,” Sebastian said.
I eyed Sebastian. Maybe it was a risk he wanted to take. Though, I really didn’t have much choice in the matter. I supposed I had to take it too.
