The Witch's Retribution

Chapter 25

Basil woke with a start when someone threw an arm over him, the memories of the night before a distant blur. He pushed the arm away and sat up, looking down at his sleeping sister. They were on the floor of a small shack, the rest of their companions conspicuously missing. He thought back to the night before, skipping over his "talk" with Joseph. Aisha had led them to a village close to the volcano; he barely recalled the hasty conversations with the village elder and her agreement to give them shelter for the night, his memories murky with exhaustion and pain.

"Lily." He prodded his sister in the arm.

She groaned and rolled away from him. "Too early."

He sighed and stood. He hurt all over, his head and hands worse than anything, but his magic seemed to have recovered. For now, that was enough. He left his sister, the sunlight burning his eyes as he opened the door. It seemed so much brighter in this kingdom. He rubbed at his eyes, letting the door close behind him, and willing the burning and black dots away.

"Good morning, sunshine!" A cheery voice accompanied the hand that clapped his shoulder, nearly knocking him over.

He glared up at the knight. "Go away."

Owen ignored him. "Your sister still asleep?"

"Obviously."

The village was a ramshackle one, small houses built with blackened wood and the ground covered in ash and soot. The dark-skinned villagers barely gave him a passing glance though some of the children playing nearby openly eyed him and his companion curiously. They probably didn't get many visitors this far out of the way. At the end of the village sat a small house, no different from the others except for Pierake's coat of arms, two dark horses locked in battle, hanging above the door. He suspected it to be the village elder's home.

"You know, something's been up with Lily lately. She hasn't been acting herself."

Basil shrugged, knocking Owen's hand from his shoulder. "Perhaps she's fallen ill. It does seem to be going around."

Owen gave him an odd look. "So you don't know what's going on with her?"

"Nope." Basil walked away, hoping he'd be left alone, but of course the knight was going to follow him.

"She's your sister."

"Doesn't mean anything. Where is everyone?"

"Let's see. Percy's in the healer's hut, and your sister's still sleeping. Those are the only ones I've kept track of."

"Great." He tried to pretend he wasn't disappointed. "I'm going for a walk then."

"Ah, I don't think so." Owen grabbed his arm, keeping him in place. "You need to get that cut looked at first, and make sure your hand isn't broken."

Basil opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. He wouldn't put it past the knight to drag him to the healer's hut. "Fine."

He half-expected the knight to follow him, but he was alone when he entered the strange-smelling hut near the center of the village. His senses were assaulted with the all-too-familiar smells of potions and herbs, overwhelmingly strong and bitter. A large pot bubbled over a fire to his left, and its pungent smell had him carefully avoiding it. On a small cot near the back rested a sleeping Percy, his leg in a much better splint and wrapped in fresh bandages. He wore only his tunic and pants, his armor, boots, and sword lying in a neat pile nearby.

At a table of neatly organized vials and scrolls stood a dark-eyed woman in a stained dress. Upon his entry, she looked up at him and smiled. "Well now, we don't get many princes in here. I had almost believed Aisha was exaggerating when she spoke of you." Her voice had the rough accent of Pierake, something that was a relief to hear. It meant that at least some of the kingdom was unscathed and possibly completely unaffected by whatever had happened at the castle.