The Witch's Tower by Tamara Grantham (uplifting novels .txt) 📖

hood, scanning the street for anyone who may have been watching. Only a few people lingered, some pushing carts with squeaking wheels, others walked with their heads down, not paying us any attention.

Good. I didn’t need any attention. If anyone recognized me, it was possible they could report it to the high sorcerer. Plus, I wasn’t anxious for anyone to spot me alone with a strange man.

The clopping of the horses’ hooves echoed through the lane until we reached a dirt road leading away from the village and through open fields. The bright moonlight turned the grassy hills to mounds of silver. Away from the village, with only the sounds of horses’ hooves clipping rhythmically over the dirt-packed road, the world remained quiet. I would have expected crickets chirping or the occasional hoot of an owl. Instead, silence shrouded the air.

Our lanterns illuminated the wagon wheel ruts and the impressions of horse hooves in the mud. Patches of fog snaked through the air, a transparent white blanket that dampened my skin.

We rode for several hours, passing no one at this time of night, which didn’t bother me. At one point, Raj suggested we stop and let the horses rest. We drank a few sips of water, and then continued.

As the night wore on, my hands, though gloved, felt stiff and cold, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to walk once I was off the horse. Up ahead, the shapes of buildings appeared on the horizon.

“Grimlore,” Raj said, “the last village before we enter Spirit Woods. I think it best if we stay here until morning. We’ll need rest before we journey into the forest.”

“Fine,” I said, too tired to argue.

We guided our horses off the road and onto the path leading to Grimlore. It was a bigger village than Willow Wood, with three story buildings that crowded the narrow lanes. Gas lamps shone from light posts, glowing over the glass windows of store fronts and inns.

“Where should we stay?” I asked, looking at the bronze and wooden signs hanging from poles that jutted from the wrought-iron balconies. The Ruddy Pig, Mooncastle Inn, and The Dead Rooster’s Watering Hole, were a few of the names I spotted.

“Down the lane there’s an inn away from the others. If the high sorcerer’s guards are on patrol tonight, we should be out of the way.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“No, but it’s safer than spending the night in Spirit Woods. I, for one, would rather not be poisoned by imps while I sleep.”

“Do you really think there are imps in the forest?”

“Yes, and there’s worse than that, too.”

“Like what?”

He shot me a dark glance. “Witches.”

“Witches?”

He nodded.

“Are you afraid of witches, Raj?”

“Anyone would be a fool not to be.”

I pulled back on the reins, stopping my horse. Raj glanced back at me, then stopped his own horse and turned around to face me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You do realize I am a witch, don’t you?”

“Yes, but you’re not like other witches.”

“How would you know that? How many witches have you met?”

He pondered for a moment. “One.”

“I’m the only witch you’ve ever met?”

“Yes.”

“Then how can you be afraid of them if you’ve never met them? And how can you trust me?”

“Because… I don’t know.”

My anger bubbled to the surface. “You don’t know? You demanded I come on this quest with you when you think anyone would be a fool to trust a witch?”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“Look, we’re both tired. We’ve been riding all night. Let’s just get to the inn and get some rest, okay?”

He wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. “Are you sure you want a witch to go to the inn with you? What if I cast a spell on you in your sleep and turn you into a frog?”

“You can do that?”

Oh, for goodness’ sake. “Of course, I can. I’m a witch!”

“You could really turn me into a frog?”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”

“But I didn’t think… I know you did that spell on the princess… you could really turn a person to a frog?”

Would he drop the frog thing already? “Frog, horse, dust mote, manure, yes. All of it. Could we get to the inn now? I’m feeling testy. I’d hate to turn you into a person who thinks.”

“That’s uncalled for.”

“Is it?”

I kicked Sable’s flanks and rode past him. Without arguing, he followed. At the end of the lane, the path branched. To the right, the road continued through the village, but on the left, trees overshadowed the narrow lane, their branches forming a canopy that blocked out the moonlight.

“Go left,” Raj called.

I glanced back at him. “Are you sure this place is safe?”

“Yes. Mostly sure.”

Mostly, huh?

As we turned down the lane, I spotted the gables of a whitewashed building peeking from the trees. Hazy pools of light shone from the windows, glowing over the skeletal tree branches that surrounded the structure.

“There,” Raj called. “That’s the inn.”

When we drew closer, I wasn’t impressed with the paint peeling from the shingles, the broken windows, or the fragments of glass from smashed wine bottles lying near the hitching posts. But it was away from the other inns, and I was in desperate need of sleep, so I wouldn’t argue, even if it was only mostly safe.

We dismounted our horses and hitched them to the posts. Without speaking, we approached the inn. I had to admit I felt a little guilty for being rude to Raj. In truth, he didn’t deserve my outburst, but had he seriously not realized I was a witch when he asked me to journey with him? Was he really so thoughtless? Honestly.

Our booted feet echoed over wooden planks as we ascended the stairs leading to the porch. When we reached the doors, Raj opened them for me and stood aside to let me pass through. A gentleman, huh?

Even if he was a gentleman, he was still an imbecile, and I was seriously contemplating why I was making this journey with him. Someone so naïve would easily get us killed.

Inside the inn, overheated air radiated from the enormous hearth at the back of the room. Flames cast a flickering light over the roughly-hewn tables and chairs crowding the floor. The room was empty, and the only sound came from the crackling fire.

As we stood inside the inn, sweat beaded my skin, and I had the urge to remove my cloak, but resisted. My blue hair made me easily identifiable, so I chose to keep it covered. Sometimes I hated my hair. I’d used every spell imaginable to try to change it, but nothing had ever worked.

An overweight man wearing a dressing robe and slippers entered from a door at the back. He eyed us suspiciously as he walked toward us. His slick, bald head reflected the firelight.

“It’s nigh three in the morning. What on earth are you doing here at this hour?”

“We seek shelter,” Raj said.

“Aye, I supposed that. Very well. I’ve got a room available upstairs, but you’ll need to tread quietly. I’ve got paying patrons who don’t want to be disturbed.”

“I understand,” Raj said. “We’ll need two rooms, if you’ve got them.”

“Two? Why? Are you quarrelling with your lover here?” He eyed me. “Seems a perfectly fine girl to me.”

“We are not lovers,” I snapped. “And we would prefer two rooms, if you please.”

“Yes, yes, as you wish, but it will cost you more. Three-hundred shekels.”

“Three hundred?” I asked, aghast. “Maybe if the beds are made of gold.”

“Three hundred is fine,” Raj said, pulling out his coin purse and counting out thirty coins. He hesitated before handing them to the innkeeper. “I’ll pay an extra ten to buy your silence.”

He frowned. “I’m not in the habit of housing criminals.”

“We’re not criminals, but we’d like to stay invisible, if you understand my meaning.”

“Very well,” the man sighed. “But it’ll cost you twenty more.”

I bit my tongue to keep from protesting as Raj counted out the money. At this rate, we’d be penniless in a week. Then again, Raj hadn’t told me how much money he was carrying. How many shekels were in his coin purse? Maybe it was best if I didn’t know.

“We’ll also need our horses stabled,” Raj said. “And something to eat in the morning.”

The innkeeper grunted, but didn’t argue as he took Raj’s coins, then led us to the stairs. The steps, made of split-planked logs, squeaked as we treaded to the second floor. Antlers and animal skins decorated the walls, and a musty smell wafted from the dust-covered pieces. We reached a door at the end of a hallway. The innkeeper pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it with a click.

We walked inside, and the innkeeper lit a lantern on a table beside a bed with a straw mattress. The room was smaller than I expected, and the only furniture was a small writing desk, a lavatory with a jug for water, and a large