To Kill a Witch (ONC 2024 SHORTLIST)

Chapter 5

The first few steps in the woods were a nightmare for Thea. Despite the familiars' warnings, she kept her hand on her dagger, her stomach clenched, her arm sending pulses of pain up and across her shoulder, tightening the muscles in her neck. She worried over the sounds of their passage, the panting of her breath and the soft thuds of her footfalls, and the cat's. Only Ceridwen moved silently among the trees. She refused the urge to look around, to watch for something moving in the shadows, keeping her eyes fixed on the purple prints and the steadily waving tail of Wilf instead.

At least there was some moon, and the purple light from the Witch's footprints, over the moss and ferns. Ridoc's tunic was too big, the shoulders slipping off under her coat.

She was exhausted, the floods and the drain of her pain hollowing out a place inside her, that she shaped in the memory of Ridoc and her Pa, the broken locket she'd left with her brother. But she welcomed the exhaustion, let it consume her. If she thought of nothing else, then the fear could not find her.

Every so often, Wilf would stop, turn to look at her, his eyes glinting in the dark, as if reassuring himself that she was still there, or perhaps, that she wasn't about to skin him for his fur.

They had been walking for an hour when the footprints began to fade.

"No!" Thea dropped to her knees on the path, running her hand over where the glowing purple guide had been. The idea of being left in the forest alone, without anything to lead her through, was terrifying. Ceridwen glided down once more to land on her shoulder and she was once again struck by the possibility that they'd brought her out here to kill her, leave her as an offering for the Witch that seemed to need her for… for something.

"Fire burns brighter at night." Ceridwen cawed instead.

Thea lifted her head to the sky. Dawn light had painted it with streaks of pink and gold, like woven ribbons in the dark of someone's hair. She hated to admit it, but the wood was somewhat beautiful in the morning — with dew still clinging to the leaves and the air bright and clean. Wood scents, the sharp tang of the grass and the mountains beyond that left Devil's Corner in a valley, and of—

Smoke.

That made her still.

Wilf had his head on one side, ears twitching. "Woodsmoke."

"People." Ceridwen muttered. Her voice was laced with suspicion — and fear.

"Impossible." Thea said. "No one lives out here. It isn't safe."

Wilf flicked his tail. "We should keep moving, but slowly."

"What kind of people would live in this wood?" Thea whispered, straightening up.

Ceridwen rustled her wings. "Long ago, before magic found this earth, small communities of miners and woodfolk would have cropped up here and there, living alongside nature. Traders, foragers, hunters with their bows. But I can't imagine why they would want to stay, now."

"Unless—" Thea bit the inside of her cheek. "Devil's Corner draws enough attention, because of the Witch, that the magic just… passes them by?"

Hmph was her only reply.

It took another half hour before they reached the encampment. Thea ducked under a low hanging branch and paused at the edge of a large, open expanse of wood. The houses had been cobbled together by any means necessary, and almost appeared to be sprouting out of the ground. They formed a sort of circle, and the sound of rushing water came from the other side. The grass here was wet underfoot.

"I will not come in." Ceridwen said, perching on a branch with a ruffle of her feathers. "Sometimes desperate people like to cook birds."

"And skin cats." Wilf said, edging away from the encampment. Ceridwen squawked and snapped her beak. "You will not leave her."