The Witch's Tower by Tamara Grantham (uplifting novels .txt) đź“–
- Author: Tamara Grantham
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Our horses pranced as we stood on the outskirts of Al-Maar, looking northward. Mountains loomed just above the horizon, their peaks capped with snow. Raj sat atop his Arabian mare, the wind tugging at the dark strands of his hair. He hadn’t spoken much this morning, only giving me a brief hello.
The wolf paced nearby, his one good eye scanning the desert. Drekken also sat atop his horse, sipping from his flask. His face looked more apprehensive than I’d seen thus far as he stared out toward the mountains. I supposed even his ale wasn’t enough to chase away his fears of the northern lands. I didn’t blame him. Few traveled there and survived.
Some of Raj’s family members stood near us. As we started across the desert, they waved goodbye, though no one spoke. The red jewels of Raj’s father’s knife glinted from the sheath at his hip, a constant reminder of the parent he’d lost, and of the mantle he would take up once this journey ended.
We rode in silence, over the curving slopes of sand, until the city disappeared behind us. When we stopped for a brief lunch, I kept my pack close, glancing inside to make sure I still had the piece I’d cut from the magical radish.
In my bag, the radish glowed with a faint green light. I only hoped I could hold onto it until we reached my aunts’ palace—and hoped it would be enough to trade for the shears.
As we packed up and continued northward, the wind changed direction, bringing the moist air from the north. I knew soon, we would approach the border to the northlands. I glanced at Raj who rode ahead. We hadn’t spoken of anything of substance all day, and I decided that needed to change.
I spurred my horse forward until I reached his side.
“Hello,” I said.
He smiled—a look of forced happiness that didn’t touch his eyes—and offered no greeting.
“We’ve made good time.”
“Yes.”
“I think we’ll make it to the mountains tonight if we keep up this pace.”
He only nodded.
“Raj, I’m sorry about what happened to your father. I wish I could offer you some kind of comfort.”
“You already have.” He smiled again, and this time, it almost touched his eyes. “I’m glad you’re with me now.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I am.”
When his eyes met mine, I was reminded of his confession that he loved me. Was it really true? Or had I dreamed it all up?
“I’m ready to leave the desert,” he admitted. “Al-Maar was once my home, but the desert is no place to live, where sand demons take your family. Whenever I’m done with this quest and return home, I will move them from the desert.”
“Do you think they’ll go?”
“Yes, I hope so. If it means they’ll be away from the sand demons, then I’m hopeful they will.”
“But last night you seemed so happy to be home again.”
“Yes, that was before I found out about my father.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I miss him so much. I hadn’t seen him in years, yet it seems so permanent now that I realize I’ll never see him again. Never talk to him again.”
“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what it’s like. I hardly remember my father. Losing my mother was hard, but I felt so much anger, it distracted me from my sadness—for a time, at least. Afterwards, I had Rapunzel to tend, and I didn’t have time to ponder it much. Still, sometimes when I think of it, the pain can be overwhelming. It’s hard to lose someone you love.”
“Yes, it’s good to know I’m not alone. Thank you, Gothel.”
I smiled, hoping he knew that I understood. The wind blustered, bringing clouds of sand that blocked our view of the mountains. I hoped we reached them before night—and before the sand demons appeared.
We spurred our horses forward, only stopping for brief rests, until the sun began to sink behind the peaks. As the light drained from the world, we reached the foothills of the mountains. The air grew chill as we rode over the curve and dip of the landscape.
Scrub bushes and vines grew along the ground. Boulders pocked the landscape, some of them covered in moss. As time passed, the landscape turned green, with a soft carpet of grass beneath our horse’s hooves, and scrubby trees grew, some of their limbs heavy with fruit.
Ahead of us came the sound of running water, and we stopped before a shallow river flowing over smooth stones. The water reflected the pink and purple evening sky. Downstream, I spotted a waterfall tumbling from a high precipice that sparkled in the last rays of sunlight, then dropped to a pool of dark water.
We guided our horses to the pool and dismounted. The air felt different here—crisper and tasting of the spray hovering above the waterfall.
“Look.” Drekken pointed to the pool. “Fairies!”
I followed his line of sight and found tiny orbs of green light bobbing above the pool’s surface.
“I hate fae folk,” the dwarf muttered behind me. I turned around to find him wearing his human form. He adjusted his eye patch as he studied the water.
“Hate them?” I asked. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“Nasty little critters. Always meddling in other people’s business.”
“I’ve heard they’re a good omen,” Drekken said.
I rounded to focus on the fairies once again, mesmerized by the soft glow cast from their bodies, and the quiet hum barely audible over the splashing water. On the shore, Raj unsaddled his horse, and I thought it best to do the same.
An hour later, we sat in front of a cheery campfire popping bright orange sparks, a skewered rabbit roasting on a spit above the flames. As the fire warmed me, I realized I was happy. I knew I had every reason to be unhappy and apprehensive—we were getting ever closer to my aunts, after all, but I couldn’t help but feel content in this place, with the waterfall splashing behind us, and fairies over the water.
Drekken played a quiet tune on his lute, and its magic enchanted me. I sat with my chin in my hands, watching his fingers move deftly over the strings. Raj sat beside me, and hesitantly, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. His warmth calmed me, and I quietly inhaled the scent of cedar spice.
I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay here with his arm around me. I would never want for anything again. I’d been honest and admitted my love for him, but was there more to it? Had he somehow bewitched me? Was this really how love felt? Or was something wrong with me? I would ask my aunts as soon as I got the chance—assuming they let us near them without killing us first.
After the song ended, we ate our meal in silence, listening to the sounds of the water.
“Tomorrow,” Raj said, “we ride over the mountains.”
An uncontrolled shiver coursed through my body. I feared the mountains more than I feared the Spirit Woods. If the cold didn’t kill us, the monsters would. Luckily, we had Raj with us, and Drekken’s lute. We also had my magic, though how much use it would be, I wasn’t sure.
We also had the dwarf with us. If anything, his foul mood could repulse the nastiest beasts in the northern lands. Those creatures didn’t stand a chance.
As we rolled out our packs, I glanced at the water, watching the fairies’ lights reflect off the dark, glassy surface. Raj walked toward me and placed his sleeping roll on the ground next to mine.
“Mind if I sleep beside you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.” He unrolled his blanket and spread it over the ground. Perhaps I should’ve been wary of his nearness. Was it proper for him to be so close? But here in this place—a place of magic—those worries didn’t seem to matter. Besides, with Drekken and the wolf so close, it wasn’t as if anything improper could happen. Not that I wanted it to happen. Not at all. Right?
In truth, I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted it so badly, I could hardly comprehend it. But since he learned that his father had died, he’d been distraught and distanced, and the only thing I wanted right now was to be able to comfort him.
“How are you feeling?” I asked as he settled beside me.
“As well as can be expected. I’m grateful for this journey. It keeps me distracted from thinking too much about my father.”
He unsheathed the knife from his belt, its red jewels glittering faintly in the firelight. “At least I have this to remember him by.”
“Yes.”
“He was the best man I’ve ever known. He treated my mother well—never raised his voice at her once. I don’t remember him ever being angry. I wish I could be more like him.”
“You’re more like him than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a good person. You’ve got a kind heart.”
“That’s nice of you
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