Savage Beauty(7)

The front door was closed, but the windows were illuminated by a faint, orange light. There was a strange scent in the air. Aromatic and pungent, it burned my nose. I limped up the steps and crossed the porch, knocking loudly on the door, bracing myself on the facing.

“Hello?”

A moment later, I knocked again.

The door creaked open a few inches.

“Hello?” I called out again. “I was injured in the woods and stumbled upon your cottage. May I come in?”

No answer. It looked like the owner wasn’t home, but they couldn’t have gone far. There was nothing out here but woodland. Perhaps I could sit by the fire and wait for them to return. The hinges squealed as I eased the door open. “Hello?”

Fire flickered in the hearth, casting a warm light over the room. With each step inside, I left a footprint in the thick dust on the floor.

How did the owner leave without making prints?

I slowly entered the home, looking around to make sure I didn’t frighten anyone inside. If they’d gone to sleep early, I’d scare the hell out of them.

I saw doors leading to rooms on either side of me, a table with two chairs farther into the room along the left wall, and a wall that was covered with bundles of herbs hanging upside down to dry. On the right side of the room was a large stained-glass window with a wash basin beneath it and a long counter on either side. The counter’s surface was covered with glass bottles of every shape and size.

I walked farther inside.

Cobwebs waved hello from the ceiling and corners. A large cushioned chair sat in the back corner, just beside the fireplace. The wood crackled and popped. A bound bundle of herbs lay in the fire, the leaves barely burning. This was where the scent outside came from, and if I was right, it was sage.

I leaned against the mantle, too tired to stay upright. The owner wouldn’t leave this fire unattended for long. They’d be home soon, and I didn’t want to frighten them. My side screamed when I let go of it, so I clutched my ribs again and tried to keep my breaths shallow. I limped to the cushioned chair and eased into it.

My ribs were on fire. A throbbing pain had pounded through my shoulder and arm all day, and though I saw no wound on my ankle, I knew something was wrong. Breathing through the pain, it eased somewhat. Before I knew it, it dulled enough that I could close my eyes. Rest was what I needed. Sleep was healing.



When I opened them again, early morning sunlight spilled through the vibrant window panes. The fire still flickered, and the bundled sage still burned. How has it not been consumed already? The only tracks across the dusty floor were mine, and nothing had been moved as far as I could tell.

Movement caught my eye across the room, but when I looked, no one was there.

“Hello?” No answer came. I gritted my teeth and sat up. “I’m sorry to intrude,” I apologized. “I was injured and needed shelter for the night.”

My stomach sank when I thought of my parents. A search party had probably been sent into the dark forest. I needed to find a way back and above the cliffs. If I could borrow a horse, I would pay the cottage owner back tenfold when I returned home.

Stiffness had set in overnight, and everything on my body, muscle and bone alike, ached when I stood and hobbled across the floor, retracing the dusty footprints I’d made last night. Just as I neared the table and chairs, a black cat jumped onto the table and hissed, her back arched, fur standing on end.

Swearing, I tensed and jumped, my ribs screaming from the movement. I stood back, panting through the fire in my middle, staring at it and it at me, until finally the feline relaxed, leapt from the table, and began rubbing its body against my legs, back and forth in a figure eight. She purred and I released a pent-up breath.

“Where is your owner?” I asked.

The cat meowed and scampered through a cracked door that lay just beyond the table. Swallowing, I wondered if someone had come home last night and didn’t want to wake me. Would I be wise in waking them?

It had to be done. I needed to get home as quickly as possible, and only a person who knew these woods could help me. Perhaps he could lead me out of here.

I limped into the darkness behind the cat. “Hello?” I called out tentatively.

No one answered.

Dark, heavy drapes hung over the window. Despite the light from the main room, I could barely see past my nose. It was like the darkness in the room chased away every trace of daylight. I made my way to the window and pulled the drapes aside, letting the sunlight in. Beneath the window was a writing desk. The cat, black as midnight, hopped up onto it and purred, nudging my hand with its head. I petted it for a moment and turned around to see a large canopied bed... and a woman in a dark dress floating three feet above the mattress, fast asleep.





chapter four




PHILLIP

I closed my gaping mouth, trying to reason through this. Trying to make sense of her.

Am I hallucinating? Am I still lying at the bottom of the cliff, dying?

The woman’s dark hair was so long that the curled ends touched the mattress beneath her.

She’s floating. Levitating in midair.

My heart began to thunder. I was in too much pain to be dreaming. How could this be?

With quiet footsteps, I made my way toward her and ran my hand beneath her hovering body. There was nothing there. Only air.

Remarkable.

There was but one explanation: she was a witch.