Chapter 6 The witch’s Bargain

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

Corin's tail swished impatiently. "For the tenth time, yes! Witches always leave a trail. I can smell her magic. Just keep walking!"

Mara stumbled over another root in the darkness. The moonstone in her pocket gave off a faint glow, but it wasn't bright enough to see clearly. Every shadow looked like a creature waiting to attack.

They had been walking for hours. The forest had changed again. Here, the trees were covered in strange vines that glowed with a sickly green light. Mushrooms as tall as Mara grew in clusters, releasing puffs of purple smoke when she walked past.

"Is this still the Shadow Woods?" Mara asked nervously.

"Barely," Corin said. "We're in the Witch's Borderlands now. This is where the normal forest ends and the magical forest begins. Not many wolves come here."

"Why not?"

"Because magic makes wolves uncomfortable. It's unpredictable. Wild. Wolves like order and strength. Magic doesn't follow those rules."

Mara understood that. Her whole life, wolves had treated her like she was less than them because she was human. Different. Unpredictable.

"There!" Corin pointed with his nose. "See that light?"

Through the trees, Mara saw a warm yellow glow. As they got closer, she realized it was coming from a small cottage. It looked cozy and inviting, with smoke curling from a chimney and flowers growing in window boxes.

"That's Nyra's house?" Mara asked, surprised. "It looks so... normal."

"Don't be fooled," Corin warned. "Witches can make things look however they want. That cottage is probably full of dangerous things."

They approached the front door. Before Mara could knock, it swung open by itself.

"Well, well," Nyra's voice called from inside. "I wondered when you'd come looking for me. Enter, little Mara. And bring your fox friend too."

Mara stepped inside cautiously. The cottage was small but comfortable. A fire burned in the fireplace. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars and bottles and strange objects. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling.

Nyra sat in a rocking chair, stirring something in a large pot. She wore the same dark cloak, and her purple eyes gleamed in the firelight.

"You made it to the shrine," Nyra said. It wasn't a question. "And you learned the truth about the curse."

"How did you know?" Mara asked.

"Because you're still alive, child. If you hadn't gotten the medicine from the shrine, you'd be dead by now." Nyra ladled some of the liquid from the pot into a bowl. "Hungry? I made soup."

Mara's stomach growled loudly. She hadn't eaten since the bread Isla had given her yesterday. "Yes, please."

Nyra handed her the bowl and a spoon. Mara sniffed it carefully. It smelled like vegetables and chicken. She took a small sip. It was delicious.

"It's not poisoned," Nyra said, amused. "If I wanted you dead, there are easier ways."

Corin hopped onto a chair and curled up. "So witch, why are you helping her? What's in it for you?"

"Curious little fox, aren't you?" Nyra smiled. "Let's just say I have my own reasons for wanting King Darius weakened. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say."

"What did King Darius do to you?" Mara asked between bites of soup.

Nyra's smile faded. "That's a long story. And not one I feel like telling tonight." She stood up and walked to a shelf, pulling down several jars. "You came here for help, yes? To figure out how to free Zevran and expose Prince Ronan?"

"Yes," Mara said. "But I don't even know where to start. How can I get into the palace? Everyone there wants me dead."

"Not everyone," Nyra said thoughtfully. She opened one jar and poured green powder into a small pouch. "You have friends, even if you don't know it yet. That servant girl—Isla. She's loyal to you. And there are others in the palace who hate King Darius. You just need to find them."

"But even if I get inside, how do I free Zevran? He's locked in the dungeon."

Nyra pulled down another jar, this one filled with silver liquid. "The dungeon is protected by magic. Old magic, placed there a hundred years ago. Normal keys won't open those cells." She poured some of the silver liquid into a small vial. "But this will."

Mara took the vial carefully. "What is it?"

"Moonlight, captured and concentrated. Pour it on the lock of Zevran's cell, and the magic will break. The door will open."

"Thank you," Mara said. "But I still don't understand why you're helping me. What do you want in return?"

Nyra's purple eyes fixed on her. "Smart girl. You're right to be suspicious. Nothing in this world is free." She sat back down in her rocking chair. "I'll tell you what I want. When you break the curse—and I believe you will—when you and Zevran are free and powerful, I want you to remember who helped you. I want a debt owed."

"What kind of debt?" Mara asked warily.

"The useful kind. Someday, I will ask you for a favor. And you will grant it, no questions asked." Nyra tilted her head. "Do we have a deal?"

Mara thought carefully. She didn't like making promises she didn't fully understand. But she needed help, and Nyra was offering it.

"As long as the favor doesn't hurt innocent people," Mara said finally. "Then yes. We have a deal."

"Good enough." Nyra held out her hand. "Shake on it."

When Mara shook Nyra's hand, she felt a strange tingle run up her arm. The witch smiled. "The deal is sealed. Now, let's talk about your plan."

Nyra spread out a piece of paper on the table. She drew quick lines with a piece of charcoal, creating a rough map of the palace.

"The dungeon entrance is here," she said, marking an X. "But there are always guards. You'll need a distraction."

"What kind of distraction?" Mara asked.

"Leave that to me," Nyra said mysteriously. "I have friends who owe me favors. Tomorrow night, during the guard change, there will be chaos in the east wing. All the guards will run to investigate. That's when you slip in."

"Tomorrow night?" Mara felt her heart race. "That's so soon."

"You don't have time to waste," Nyra reminded her. "Every hour that passes, the curse gets stronger. Even with the medicine, you only have a few days left. And Zevran..." She paused. "He's suffering, locked in that cell. The bond is making it worse for him. He can feel your pain, you know. Every time you're hurt or scared, he feels it too."

Mara touched her chest, where the bond pulsed. She hadn't realized Zevran could feel what she felt. How much pain had she caused him over the past two days?

"I need to get him out," Mara said firmly. "What else do I need to know?"

"The second chain—Truth," Nyra said. "You need to prove Ronan killed Selene. But you can't just accuse him. You need evidence."