Theo woke slowly. The warm, soft bed beneath him was familiar—he was home. His room, his castle, and he’d had the weirdest dream where he left it all behind and went out on adventure and befriended a dragon and a dwarf (well, sort of) and were in a forest to face a witch.

  It had been an intense dream.

  Except when Theo opened his eyes, he didn’t find his familiar four-poster bed with rich azure drapes—he found a ceiling painted white and light spilling in through a window on the wrong side.

  He sat up sharply and was out of bed before his blood pressure had time to follow, and he nearly ended up in a heap on the floor.

  “What…” he mumbled.

  The last thing he remembered… the witch. The forest. Nibblet had gone to her, and she had snapped her fingers and—

  After that, nothing.

  Where were the others? Bruni? Was he dead? What about Freya—she would not have gone down without a fight, but what could she do against a witch, especially if she tried to protect Bruni at the same time? Theo had no doubt Freya would do everything to keep Bruni safe, despite the dwarf’s sour attitude.

  And she must be out of her mind about Theo. Theo had promised not to disappear—and he hadn’t. She had. He never strayed out of her line of sight.

  What about Emberion? Theo was still wearing the same clothes, and he stuck his hand into his pocket where Emberion the glint should be resting.

  It was empty.

  Theo swore—and then he headed toward the door. The room he had woken in was light and simple, a bed and a nightstand and a small desk, like a room at an inn. Green details were interspersed among the wood and white. Simple and practical.

  But were the walls shimmering? Shifting as he gazed at them? Or was that just his tired brain?

  Why wasn’t he in a dungeon?

  Why was he not dead?

  He exited the room (it wasn’t locked, shouldn’t it be locked?) into a small hallway with simple green wallpaper. The witch must like green.

  Theo remembered her eyes—glowing green, magic swirling in their depths.

  She is mad, he reminded himself. She is the wicked witch.

  “You.”

  The witch’s voice made him whirl around. “Where are the others?” The words left his lips before he took anything in about her.

  She really looked no older than a child of perhaps… nine? Eight? Theo wasn’t good with telling kids’ ages, he hadn’t been around them enough. But his skin crawled as he observed her. Her dress, which had looked alive in the forest, now looked more normal, though it still shimmered around her like it wasn’t quite real. Her ginger hair was now barely tamed and pulled back, emphasizing the young softness of her face. Those eerie green eyes still dominated her features, and Theo found himself unable to look directly at them, afraid of what otherworldly horrors he might see lurking in their depths.

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  “Dealt,” the witch said. “Safe.”

  “If you hurt them—”

  “You hurt. I hurt,” she said.

  What did it mean? Why did she speak in such short sentences?

  “Where is the glint that was in my pocket?” Theo asked, ignoring her question. He had no idea if she’d hurt him—rendering people unconscious for hours was hurting, right? Even though he couldn’t say if he had any bruises to show for it.

  “Dragon,” she said with a frown and hesitated, as if searching for the words. “Wraith. Pocket… bad.”

  Theo’s heart stuttered, his mouth going dry. “Is he…”

  She rolled her eyes. “Room. Human.”

  Theo frowned. “You—what?”

  “Glint no,” she said. “Food.”

  Theo frowned, trying to understand what she was saying, but there were too few words to make sense of, and the girl just scowled at him.

  Finally, he asked, “You… you helped Emberion?”

  The girl cocked her head to the side. Her eyes were strange, he reflected; young and old at the same time.

  “Name,” the witch said. “E-ber-on.” She stumbled over the syllables.

  “Emberion,” Theo said.

  She glared at him, crossing her arms over his chest for daring to correct her. He lifted his hands in what he hoped she saw as a placating gesture, rather than an attempt to attack.

  “Is he’s awake?” Theo asked. “Not dead?”

  “No dead,” the witch said. “Not me.”

  “But you were going to hurt us.”

  She glared at him, and he half expected her to bare her teeth like a feral cat. “Threat,” she growled. “Stop.”

  Theo frowned again—it was a conversation full of frowning, really, on both sides—as he tried to figure out her words. “You think… you think we came to threaten you?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing, just crossed her arms over her small chest.

  Well, they had come to… perhaps not kill her, but definitely with the thought that she was dangerous and they needed to stop her.

  Except she was a kid.

  A child with big green eyes who had, at least from what Theo could tell, helped them.

  He licked his lips. Nothing made sense. “But—but you’re the witch.”

  At that, her eyes narrowed further into thin slits, and she leaned slightly forward. Was she about to attack?

  Nothing made sense. “We came to make you return the amulet.”

  The girl straightened, a look of confusion crossing her face. “Am-let?”

  “The amulet of… destruction, or something,” Theo said. “An old dragon mage made it. It’s gone, and you took it, and that’s why we’re here, because it’s killing the dwarves and the stone giants, and making the dragons attack humans.”

  She blinked slowly, a line between her brows. Then, after several long seconds, she shook her head. “No am-let. Alone. No kill.”

  “But you’re… wicked?” Theo said, but it came out more like a question. “Evil?”

  At that, her young face fell, her gaze dropping to the floor, and her shoulders hunched. She shrank back, and was it her moving into the shadows, or did the shadows stretch to cover her skin? Either she was an excellent actress, or being called evil and wicked was… hurtful to her.

  “Yes. They say,” she said, quieter now, though each word was still sharp. “See friends?”

  “Me?” Theo asked. “You’ll let me see them?”

  She nodded carefully, regarding him with a closed off expression. “Help. Dwarf. Very sick.” She kept mumbling, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying, and Theo wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself.

  “But he’s alive too?” he asked.

  She looked up. “Alive. Girl. Dwarf. Dragon.” She wrapped her thin arms around herself in a hug.

  “You took care of all of us,” Theo said, and this time, it wasn’t a question. “All by yourself.”

  She gave him a long, guarded look. “Yes.”

  “And you live here alone,” Theo said.

  The smallest of nods, her hair like waves of liquid red around her face.

  “Why do you live alone?”

  There was a surprising amount of pain in her eyes when she met his gaze, but she didn’t say anything.

  Theo swallowed hard. It was difficult to see the girl before him as someone who would burn a whole village to the ground, or the other horrible things Ariana had said.

  She was sent to an orphanage, but after she did horrible things there, they sent her off.

  Killed several villagers.

  Disappeared.

  She’s a witch, Theo reminded himself. It was still entirely possible she was playing games with him, without Theo even realizing it.