and coolly solicits, “What do you want?”
The creepy old woman grumbles, “Ye are lucky to have thy lives. Do not fail to notice our mercy.” She licks her wrinkly, chapped lips and says, “We need to know who bit ye. There are so few like us that we must be chary in our attempts to keep the bloodlines unsoiled. First, ye shall explain to us how thy curse came to pass.”
Ben and I share a sideways glance, uncertain how to approach the subject. On one hand, we can explain that we’re from the future, and we weren’t exactly bitten. On the other hand, we can outright lie about the circumstances which led us here. But the longer we take to deliberate, the more apprehensive these hags will become.
“We’ve been sworn to keep our lives a secret,” I state, “which means we can’t advise you who sunk their teeth into us, or why. All we can tell you is that we don’t mean to cause mischief, and we aren’t out for blood. If, however, you stand in our way, we’ll have no choice but to stop you.”
“What is thy ultimate plan, if ye are not here to commit murder, and ye are not looking to join a new pack?” the old woman asks. Her eyes are seriously freaking me out; it’s like they can slice open my flesh and meddle with my soul.
Ben lets out a low growl. “She’s already told you! It’s none of your damn business.”
“Careful, young one, for this town and the land ye stand upon have been with me longer than ye have existed. Make no mistake: should ye choose to turn against us, there shall be hell to pay. My wise apprentices have studied under me for an extensive time, and they have learned rather quickly. If either of ye decides to hinder our plan, we have no misgivings with ending thy days.”
Squinting my eyes, I ask, “What . . . plan?”
“Aye, ye caught that, did ye?” The old woman chuckles, her raspy tone leaving an unspoken threat suspended in the air. “Just as ye declined to speak of thy plan, so shall we.”
Of course she says that. Clearing my throat, I question whether Ben and I can actually leave the site. Are we prisoners? Will they hold us hostage until they find out why we’re really here? The possibilities are endless. Plus, these women visibly have the magical-capabilities thing going on, and Ben and I are slightly doomed in that department.
The old witch gestures toward the cave’s entrance. “Ye are free to leave, as long as ye know not to interfere with us ever again.” A satisfied smirk curls her lips.
While Ben and I refrain from commenting further, and making complete fools of ourselves, I feel justified in telling them, “That won’t be a problem, as long as all of you know that if you stand in our way, we won’t hesitate to take you down.” And I have a clear notion we’ll cross paths with them in the near future. Soon. Next time, though, we’ll be more prepared.
“I would not be so foolish, if I was ye,” says the blonde-haired woman, grinding her teeth and balling her fists.
Let it rest, Candra, says Ben. Don’t do anything to provoke them.
I just can’t help myself.
That’s the problem.
Exiting the cave, Ben and I wander back toward Fiona’s home. By my best estimate, the sun will rise within the next two hours. If we arrive at Fiona’s wearing nothing but the rags the witches clothed us with, she’ll question where we’ve been and what we’ve been doing—and we don’t want to act suspiciously, which will lead to new questions. We should have ample time, however, to change our clothes before the day begins.
“I can’t believe we made it out of there,” Ben says. “I mean, they could’ve made rugs out of us. Or coats.” He stares off toward the wooded expanse ahead of us and mumbles, “Fur coats.”
Raking my fingers through my hair, my hands rest at the nape of my neck, where I massage my skin in an attempt to loosen the taut muscles. I wince at the unexpected sharp pain. There’s tightness in my chest, and my stomach continues to twist like a pretzel. Ben’s correct—something is amiss about this whole situation. Witches poison us, carry us to their secret lair, then just let us go? Maybe they saw a smidgen of goodness in our souls—since the blind woman obviously has a third eye—and decided we