new branch as I find my footing. Minutes later, we’re halfway up, and in a perfect position to observe the Lavenia’s cottage. Thank the universe I don’t have a fear of heights; I’d be screwed right now.
“Is this good?” I ask, glancing down at Ben.
He peers up at me. “Yeah, this should be fine. Find a place to sit comfortably, because we’ll be here all day.”
“God, I hope I don’t have to pee.”
“Hold it.”
I groan. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Ben locates a sturdy branch where he can rest and situates himself in a secure position. “We’re not here for fun, Candra. We’re here so we can prevent Ulric and Daciana’s banishment to the Otherworld.”
Cynically, I say, “No need to be oh-so-serious. I’m well aware of why we’re in the sixteenth century.”
He cuts me a razor-sharp glare. “Just reminding you, in case you’ve forgotten. I wouldn’t want you to get the idea this is all dress-up and tea parties.”
“What the hell, Ben?” I shout.
“Sssh! Keep it down,” he hisses. “Do you want all of Colchester to know we’re up here, spying on Lavenia and her minions?”
He has a point: I’m being childish. Emitting a frustrated sigh, I carefully turn my body around on the branch, so I’m facing Lavenia’s cottage, and rest my head on the tree’s trunk.
By chance, we don’t have to wait very long before one of the witches emerges; it’s the blonde-haired woman, who bared her teeth and snarled at me last night, ready to scratch my eyeballs out. Now she looks as pleasant and as humble as any respectable lady in this era. She blends in perfectly with the rest of society, which, if I’m correct, is exactly what they want. Don’t they know people talk about them and question whether or not they have dark powers? Is part of their plan inflicting mayhem on the citizens who have trashed their reputations?
The fair-haired female traipses through the shrubbery and trees directly beneath us, dead leaves crunching underneath her feet. Eventually, she fades out of sight, and Ben and I are left watching both directions—Lavenia’s cottage, and the route where the mysterious girl disappeared.
Is she going to pick berries? I inquire.
Ben shrugs, his eyes never leaving the pathway she took. Who knows? Maybe she’s adding to their infinite collection of herbs.
An idea strikes me. Do you remember what Maggie’s home in Hartford looked like on the inside?
Ben wrenches his head around to stare at me. Of course. Why?
Don’t you think it’s odd she had all of those dried herbs hanging around her kitchen? I gesture toward the cottage, where the dried herbs sway in the icy-cold breeze. Do you believe me now?
His shoulders drop as his head rolls back, like he’s drained from listening to my interpretation on all of this weirdness. I never said I didn’t believe you; it just seemed a little . . . out there. But yes, I obviously see the herbs hanging in the windows and remember the stench in Maggie’s house caused by her collection. I still have no idea what she used them for.
Black magic?
Shaking his head, he says, We hardly ever used herbs in black magic.
Maybe that’s what they used in this age, though. Maybe their powers stem from Mother Nature herself.
That’s a little too . . . traditional.
It’s ancient, yeah. What did you expect? They had to start somewhere.
Ben revisits his previous position, staring off toward the route the blonde girl departed. The front door of the cottage creaks open, and none other than the dark-skinned woman with black-and-white hair steps out, her right arm carrying a basket. She follows the same path that the blonde girl took.
We need to get closer, I tell Ben. Peek through a window, or something. We can’t just sit here all night. That’s not going to do us any good.
If they catch us, we’re screwed. You do realize that, right?
Yeah, but we need to see what’s in that cottage—cauldrons, green mists whirling out of glass bottles, black cats. You get the idea.
Ben gives me a dubious look over his shoulder. It doesn’t work that way, Princess.
Then let’s find out how, exactly, it does work.
Moments later, I’ve talked Ben into descending the tree and sprinting across the yard to the cottage. Thank the stars those furry mutts aren’t anywhere in sight. Had they seen us and barked, we would’ve been trapped.
Stalking around the back of the home, we peer through a window. The inside seems as cozy and welcoming as Fiona’s