The Witch's Retribution

Chapter 42

Xan walked through the dark streets of the town, the torches casting shadows on his weary face as he returned from Edith's home. An unused and now useless potion remained clutched in his hand like a lifeline, the greenish liquid sloshing around with each unhurried step. Xan had helped with the burial of Edith's mother, even managed to talk a couple of the knights into accompanying them to the burial grounds located some miles from the town. He thought the family could use the protection, and the knights had been more than happy to help.

He shivered through the night air was relatively warm. Edith had barely spoken to him since they buried her mother, the only sounds she made were the comforting ones to her siblings and the quiet sobs she had tried so valiantly to muffle. Xan hated feeling so helpless, hated the way she had pushed him away when he wanted so much to comfort her, but he also understood.

She wasn't the cry-on-your-shoulder type. Never had been. Once the pain eased somewhat, once she came to terms with it, she'd allow someone to comfort her. Xan would be there if she needed him to be there, and even if she didn't, he'd still be there. He understood loss.

His head jerked up at the sound of horses coming through the gates. He ran towards the sound, his heart leaping with hope and sinking just as quickly when he slid to a stop in the courtyard. There were only two knights coming through the gates, and he knew, even in the dark, that neither was his prince. As he drew closer, they stopped and dismounted, their voices low in private conversation.

"I can't believe we beat Railark's knights here." The shorter knight said, and Xan recognized the voice as Sir Andrew's.

"Yeah, well, we were pushing it a bit." The second knight, Sir Owen, answered, and Xan no longer bothered hiding his presence.

"Please, tell me Liam is close behind." Xan said, stepping out of the shadows.

Owen turned to him with a far too cheerful grin. "Nope. Sorry. Is it past his bedtime already?"

The words were forced, and Xan glanced between the two knights with a growing sense of trepidation. "Did something happen? Where's Liam?" He couldn't stop the fear and slight panic from showing in his voice.

Owen held up his hands. "It's nothing like that. He's fine. Lily, too. They stayed behind in Railark."

"We lost Sir Garrett." Andrew answered softly.

"Oh no." Xan muttered. "I-I'm sorry. I..."

There was nothing Xan knew to say. He hadn't known the senior knight well, but he still felt a sense of distant loss. He also felt shame welling up at the relief of knowing it wasn't Liam or Lily this time. Their safety was the only good news this night.

"Take it easy, Xan." Owen said. "We don't expect you to mourn every loss for us."

Xan shook his head. "Sorry." He said again and took a step back, stopping when he remembered something. "Oh, yeah. Owen, um...there was a girl here to see you before."

The knight's eyes lit up. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Elizabeth, I think was her name." At the name, Owen's eyes turned troubled. "She said she needed to speak to you about something but didn't say what."

"I wonder what she could want." Owen muttered, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"Is she really your daughter?" Xan asked.

Owen's eyes flicked to him, and yes, they were certainly the same honeyed eyes the girl had worn. "You have a daughter?" Andrew asked before Owen could reply.

"Yes, but we're not close. I haven't really spoken to her in years."

"Bad blood?" Andrew sounded sympathetic.