“Nice meeting you, Dhav from Karachi. I hope we play again some time. Perhaps with fewer…” his single eye flicked to me, “…distractions.”
Maeva came bustling over.
“You know the rules gentleman. Settle up before you leave. Mr Ignius, you’ll need to get your diamonds out of the safe, it looks like you’ll be handing over quite a few of them.”
The troll lumbered to his feet, going through his pockets one last time. I held out the little diamond he’d given me earlier.
“I think you should have this back,” I said. “I obviously didn’t bring you any luck at all, did I?”
He looked at me and I saw the thought slowly forming behind his big Neanderthal forehead. He was remembering me sitting on his lap, right before Dhav’s game improved considerably. His brows drew down as he wondered whether his missing jokers had anything to do with me.
Maeva made him fetch the diamonds, and under her watchful eye he emptied them resentfully into a small bag for us before stomping off into the night, slamming the door behind him.
I gazed down at the stones dreamily. They sparkled so prettily, I thought. Surely Dhav wouldn’t miss one or two. And anyway, I’d earned them.
He slid his arm round my waist, his mouth at my ear.
“Don’t even think about it, little thief,” he murmured. I pulled out of his grasp.
“You were going to bet me away,” I snarled. “Like some cheap call girl.”
“Definitely not cheap,” he said in amusement. I didn’t think it was funny.
“What if you’d lost? What if he’d had another joker tucked somewhere?”
“I had full confidence in you. Did you not have confidence in me?”
“Well…” I faltered. He had played well, I had to concede that. “Just don’t do it again.”
His eyes glittered.
“Do not worry, Samira. I never bet with things I can’t afford to lose.”
I had no time to wonder what he meant. Maeva insisted we put the diamonds in her safe and shooed us out, eager to close up and go to bed.
I followed Dhav up the stairs slowly. I’d asked earlier if there was another bedroom spare, but Maeva was already sharing with Kiran and Deelan’s room was tiny. I was stuck with him.
“You take the bed,” he said graciously. But I saw the skin under his eyes was smudged blue, and he looked exhausted.
Sleeping in the chair the night before, and now playing poker till the early hours, had taken it out of him.
“No need to be a hero,” I said briskly. “I’ll be fine in the chair. Lie down.”
“Samira…”
“Lie down before I put you on your back.” I twitched my fingers threateningly, and he gave in.
“Normally when a woman invites me to lie down, it’s more romantic,” he grumbled, pulling off his shoes. He stretched his long form along one side of the bed.
“Turn your back so I can get out of this horrible dress.”
He turned over obediently.
“This bed is enormous, Samira. I promise you’ll be safe if you want to sleep on the other side.”
“What, put some pillows down the middle to protect my virtue?” I teased.
“You can trust me, Samira. Please don’t think we’re all like that disgusting troll. I wanted to knock his head off when he touched you.”
I was taken aback by the anger in his voice. Silently, I slipped the dress off and put my T-shirt on.
Maeva had left a bowl and jug of water in the room. I washed off my make-up, and gave my teeth a quick brush. Then I sat in front of the mirror and brushed my hair slowly, taking my time. When it was burnished and soft, I wove it into a thick plait so it wouldn’t tangle in the night.
Finally, when I couldn’t stall anymore, I stood up from the dressing table.
Dithering, I looked from the bed to the chair, and back again. Dhav hadn’t moved. I made a choice.
Heart thumping, I switched off the light and climbed into bed.
Dhav kept his back to me as I slid under the covers quietly. I tried to take up as little space as possible, aware of how close we were.
I remembered his fingers on my leg earlier, and his lips nuzzling my ear. His unexpected kiss. All play-acting. None of it real.
But I was glad it was dark in the room. I was glad he couldn’t see me blushing.
“I do trust you, Dhav,” I whispered.
He didn’t reply. He was asleep.
Chapter Twenty
He was gone when I woke up. I hastily pulled on my combat trousers and boots, and went downstairs for breakfast.
Dhav raised an eyebrow as I came in.
“Finally. I thought you’d be snoring until midday.”
“Snoring?” I was indignant. “I don’t snore.”
“No, actually, you don’t. You do talk in your sleep though.” He looked at me appraisingly, and I wondered uncomfortably what I’d said. Hopefully nothing about him.
“So we’ll go see the cairn-witch today, then?” I said, trying to change the subject. Dhav nodded.
“Kiran knows where she lives. She’s very excited about going to see her. Apparently the cairn-witch makes all kinds of natural, herb-based potions and our little sprite is fascinated by that.”
“Really? Well, I guess that’s only to be expected. Kiran doesn’t know any other magical people, aside from me. Her cousins are great and everything, but I supposed she feels a bit different from them.”
“Isn’t being with family enough?”
“Sometimes, no.”
I thought back to my childhood. If gran hadn’t been there to take me in, I don’t know how I would have turned out.
Never seeing anyone else like me, never being able to talk about it with someone who understood – that would have been hard. I totally understood Kiran’s excitement.
We retrieved the bag of diamonds and gave Maeva and Deelan their cut. Disappointingly, Dhav firmly shook his head when I held out my hand.
“What good’s a diamond out here?” he said reprovingly. “You think too much about money.”
“Says the prince.”
“Don’t be petulant. I promised you sapphires, didn’t I? You’ll be rich when we get back to Ashfahaan. And since that’s all you care about, that should make you very happy.”
His tone was cutting, and I was stung into silence.
Kiran looked from one to the other of us.
“Do you two need a minute?” she ventured. I stood up jerkily, more hurt than I cared to let on.
“No. Let’s go.”
The cairn-witch lived out beyond Maeltor, where the forest grew. The desert seemed a distant memory as we entered the dark woodland. Sounds dropped away as trees and shrubs cocooned us.
It was like no forest I’d ever been in. The atmosphere was creepy. Dark shapes slunk among the trees, and I felt like we were being watched.
Once or twice I span round, convinced someone was behind us. There was never anyone there.
Strange hooting noises filtered down to us from the trees. I peered up but in the dense foliage, it was impossible to tell if they were coming from large birds or small monkeys.
Here and there, large purple flowers bloomed, their heads swaying even though there was no wind. I went over to see what they smelled like, and Kiran grabbed my arm.
“Don’t touch that, it’s hellebris. Its pollen puts you to sleep.”
“What about that one?” I asked, pointing to a small blue blossom.
“That one’s okay. Except for its leaves.” I withdrew the hand I’d been stretching towards it. “What’s wrong with the leaves?”
“They’re poisonous. Unless you boil them with nutmeg and bergamot. Then they make a lovely tincture that cures headaches.”
“How do you know all this?”
I was curious. Kiran had spent most of her life with the succubus in the desert. Where had she learned this stuff?
“Lady Mantodea had books. Mostly left behind from her victims. When
she didn’t need me, I’d read them. My favourite was the Grimoire of Magical Herbology. Did you know there’s a root that can make you forget the last twenty four hours? I mean, exactly twenty four hours. No-one knows how it’s so precise.” The sprite’s eyes were wide with excitement. “And if you mix henbane with pelargonium in exactly the right measures, you can make someone fall in love with you.”
“Wow, that’s impressive. Is that what the cairn-witch does? Make potions?”
Kiran nodded.
“She’s sort of the unofficial doctor. People go to her when they have problems. Aches and pains. A sick cow. Or maybe they need an enemy cursing. But Deelan says she never does anything for free. She always asks for payment.”
“Quite right.” I nodded approvingly. “Woman after my own heart.”
“Then hopefully, diamonds will suffice,” said Dhav drily. I ignored him.
“Did you say she used to live in the tower? Al Udd… Al’s tower?”
“That’s the rumour. She may even have been there before his time. She’s quite old.”
“What did she do there?”
Kiran shrugged.
“Maybe she was a servant. We can ask her.”
I peered along the path, which seemed to be getting darker with every step we took. It wouldn’t surprise me if a wolf leapt out and asked us the way to grandma’s house.
“It seems a strange place to live,” Dhav remarked. “A little frightening for an old woman living on her own.”
“Do you think so?” Kiran looked around us, and her eyes were shining. “I love it! Can’t you feel the magic? Surely you can feel it, Samira?”
Dhav’s eyes rested on me curiously but I didn’t answer. Feel it? My birthmark was practically pulsating.
I wondered if the sensation was visible, and was silently thankful I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. With every step, my conviction grew stronger.
There was magic here, alright. We were walking straight towards it.
And suddenly, night fell.
It happened in the space of one step. One second it was daylight, the next, it was dark.
I looked at the sky, and there were stars overhead.
“That’s impossible,” murmured Dhav. “It’s barely noon.”
Experimentally, I took a step backwards. Daylight. I moved forwards. The moon was hanging above me, its shadowed craters making it look as though it was grinning.
“That is unreal,” I breathed.
Something flew overhead. At first I thought it was a bat, but then its wings were silhouetted against the moonlit sky and I realised it was far bigger.
“Is her house much further?” asked Dhav.
His jaw was clenched, and I was gratified to see I wasn’t the only one who was spooked.
“It’s there.” Kiran pointed.
For a moment, I couldn’t see anything. I would have sworn there was nothing there. But in the next moment, a cottage materialized.
It was like one of those 3D trick images you stare at for ages, only seeing the background pattern until all of a sudden, a different picture emerges. And then you realise it was there all the time.
“What the hell?” Dhav swore under his breath.
The cottage looked perfectly normal, even cozy. Wooden walls, thatched roof. But the windows… the windows looked like they were watching us.
Kiran bounded forward eagerly. I grabbed her.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
She gave me a puzzled look.
“I’m going to knock on the door. Isn’t that why we came?”
“Um, yes. Okay,” I said, feeling a bit stupid. I let her go.
Unconsciously, I drew closer to Dhav as she knocked. I gave the cottage a hard look. If it rose up on chicken legs, I was out of there.
The door opened. I half expected it to creak, but it swung gently to reveal a perfectly ordinary, if messy, kitchen. Before I could stop her, Kiran had slipped inside.
Dhav and I exchanged glances, then followed her. The door swung shut behind us.
Inside, a fire was burning on the hearth with a cauldron hanging over it. Something gloopy was bubbling inside.
In the corner was a scratched and rickety table with what looked like bone and flesh strewn across it. A chicken’s head was plonked in the centre, sitting in its own gore.
A collection of potted plants on the windowsill gave off a strange plethora of scents; not unpleasant, but none of them familiar.
Ugly cat ornaments sat on every available surface, their porcelain eyes seeming to follow us around the room. And at one end of the room, a large shelf groaned under the weight of dozens of labelled jars.
I tried to read some of them. Belladonna. Frog Spit. Hemlock. Bird Tongue. One jar contained a single large eyeball. I stared at it, and it swivelled round to stare back.
I jumped, my heart skittering.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Kiran sounded awestruck. She was picking up one plant after another and sniffing them. “Ooh, is this mandrake?”
I wondered distantly if perhaps she’d wandered into an alternate universe, and wasn’t actually seeing what Dhav and I were seeing.
“It’s a witches’ cottage alright,” I muttered. “We’ll be lucky if we get out of here alive. She’s probably got kids tied up in the basement ready to eat for breakfast.”
“Don’t be daft,” Kiran scoffed. “She’s a herbologist. Look at all these amazing plants.”
“And anyway, I can’t abide the taste of children. Too many hormones.”
We whipped round at the wry voice behind us. A bony old woman stood there, tall and thin, her gaze sharp as she leaned on her walking stick.
“Are you…” Kiran sounded breathless. “Are you the cairn-witch?”
“I have a name, you know,” she snapped. “It’s Mother Paduri. And put that down, child, it’s not a sweet shop.”
Kiran hastily returned the pot to the windowsill.
“We came to ask for your help. These are my friends.” Kiran gestured towards us. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mother Paduri.”
“At least you have manners, young one. What’s up with your friends? Has the cat got their tongues?” She peered around. “Where is that danged cat, anyway?”
“We apologise for appearing uninvited, Mrs Paduri,” said Dhav smoothly. “We hope we aren’t disturbing you?”
“It’s Mother Paduri, not Mrs. Never married. And you’re a smooth one, ain’t you? Give me a hand, young man.”
She hobbled forward and poked at Dhav with her cane until he pulled a chair out and helped her to sit down. She got settled, grumbling to herself under her breath. Then she jerked her thumb at me.
“What’s wrong with that one? She defective, or something?”
I roused myself. Witch or not, she was just an old woman.
“I’m Samira, this is Kiran, and the smooth one is Dhav. We came for your help to…”
“Not so fast, djinn.”
My jaw dropped open.
“How did…”
“How did I know? Easy. I’m a witch. And I want a cup of tea. Which of you fancies making me one?”
“Me! I will!” Kiran was practically bouncing, and the witch narrowed her eyes.
“Off you go then, sprite. Everything you need’s in the pantry through that door.”
“How did you know I was a…”
“Witch, remember? Stop asking stupid questions.” Kiran disappeared through the door, and Mother Paduri turned to us conspiratorially. “I lied that time. Her ears gave her away.”
She casually moved the chicken head to one side with her cane, tutting as blood dripped across the table.
“Why are there bones everywhere?” I asked distastefully.
“None of your business. Get a cloth and clean them up.”
“Don’t order me around you…” Dhav put a hand on my arm.
“I’ll do it.”
He went off to find a cloth. Mother Paduri watched him go.
“Bet he�
��s never tidied anything up in his life. Do you think he knows what a dishcloth is?”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s a prince. And don’t ask ‘how do I know that’ again or I’ll smack you with my stick.”
I shut my mouth. Dhav came back with a tea towel and clumsily tidied the bloodied detritus into a gruesome pile. Mother Paduri watched beadily as he looked around for something to brush it into, eventually having to settle for his cupped hand. I was impressed that he barely grimaced.
“Where shall I put it?”
“Where do you think? In the cauldron, of course. Now, Samira. Let me have a look at you.”
Her green eyes raked me from head to toe. She didn’t seem pleased with what she saw.
“Show me the mark,” she commanded.
Her expression brooked no argument. Gritting my teeth, I undid the top button of my shirt and pulled it off my shoulder. I was acutely aware of Dhav watching.
She leaned forward, her nose practically touching my arm. I fixed my gaze on a particularly grotesque cat ornament and tried to ignore her.
“Does it itch when there’s magic around?” she asked sharply. I grunted noncommittally.
She prodded at it, muttering something, and I felt it throb.
“Ow!”
“Okay, put it away. Sit down. Give me your hands.”
I sat, holding out my fingers. She grasped them in her gnarled ones and turned them over to examine my palms.
“Hm. Not a particularly virtuous life,” she said. “You’ve a bit of a mouth on you. Some skill as an air mage but other than that, not much to speak of. Good heart, though.”
I saw Dhav’s frankly disbelieving look out of the corner of my eye. Mother Paduri drew one of my hands closer to her face. I tried not to stiffen as her hairy chin touched it.
“You had a ring on until fairly recently,” she said, squinting at the thin tan line on my finger.
“Yes. Someone stole it. It’s part of the reason we’re here.”
She let go as Kiran came walking in, carefully balancing a china cup on a saucer.
“Here you are, Mother,” she said, placing it gently on the table in front of the old woman. Mother Paduri sniffed at it.
“What is it?”
“I used some of the ingredients in the pantry. It’s got cat’s claw and ginger for your arthritis, and peppermint for your indigestion.”
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