“How have your deliveries been?” He asked trying to make conversation.

  “Everything seemed to be so harmonious before the prince came into my life.” She chewed. “And now, being here…with all of you… it feels like this is where I need to be. I feel if I can deliver the prince to his destination then I’ll know I’ve done my best to contribute the betterment of his kingdom. After that…” She pondered, her eyes looking off across the rocky ridges ahead they’d have to climb. “Delivering letters and parcels will become a welcome change.”

  “Your involvement has definitely caused an uproar. The entire land is crawling with armed men intent on capturing him. What do you think of him?”

  “He seems immature and entitled.” She said in between bites. “But I do think he could grow out of it and become a ruler in time. His manservant told us of an unsettling aspect in that his uncle has created or brought a powerful lich under his control to aid in taking over the kingdom.”

  “A lich?” Ignatius asked “An undead being? That makes so much sense of the strange things I’ve seen of late that I couldn’t understand. Such a thing is too dangerous to be allowed to live.”

  “I agree, but how does one defeat a lich?”

  “I do not know. Such magic was lost to witchkind hundreds of years ago, and if it wasn’t lost it would be forbidden to use. I cannot see one of our own assisting the prince’s uncle in such a way. It goes against our nature to conjure such an abomination. If I had to guess, I would think if the lich was created out of magic, then there must be a way to sever the tie between the magic and the corpse. From what I’ve witnessed and heard from scouts its terrible influence stalks the lands in the form of a storm baring sinister green clouds that affect anyone they come across.”

  “That’s the story I got from your brother.”

  “How has Robert been? Misbehaving?”

  “Not that I’ve seen, but his sharp tongue keeps most at bay.”

  “Of that I have no doubt.” The witch chuckled. “I suppose he doesn’t have the sunniest of dispositions. But for that he has his reasons.”

  “Absolutely. Is there anything that can be done for his condition?”

  “His natural markings from being in the womb with Siouxsie? No. The other could be remedied with an intense spellcasting with the rest of those in Spellvale working together, but he refuses to spend time around anyone but his sister. Robert won’t do anything until he’s ready. On that you may rely.”

  “Siouxsie on the other hand has been a delight.”

  “She IS the other side of the coin.” He laughed.

  “And I believe she’s bewitched Morell.” Hoxley said, switching her spear to the other shoulder. “I think he’s smitten with her.”

  “The mushroom collector? He seems smart enough. I wouldn’t protest him courting her a few summers from now.”

  “You’d have a ‘non magic’ in your hut?”

  “If he loves my sister and honors her then it would be my privilege to receive him. Who knows? Perhaps he could share his fungus knowledge to enrich the lives of all witchkind. It would all depend on whether he was willing to conform to our ways.”

  “The way he looks at her I think he’d fill a thousand books for the opportunity to sit next to her.”

  “It’s easy to feel that way when there’s so much beauty around.” Said Ignatius as he locked eyes with her. Unlike his siblings with their mismatched eye colors, Ignatius’ eyes were the color of quicksilver Hoxley had once seen under glass in an alchemy shop. The color accented his long grey locks making him even more handsome.

  “Why Ignatius,” she said, “Are you courting me?”

  “Would it be too forward to confess I think of you when you’re not near? I do admire your bravery to travel the lands on your own and I’ve already introduced myself to your family.” Siouxsie looked surprised.

  “I didn’t know you’ve met my family.” she said. “When did this happen?”

  “Last summer. You were away on your deliveries and your father sent for a witch with wind abilities to start the windmill you have atop the northern field of your plains. When the job was finished, we shared a meal and through conversation I learned of your relation. Your father speaks highly of you.”

  “Father is always supportive. My homelife is a…stable one.” she grinned

  “Ha!” Ignatius laughed. “That’s a terrible pun!”

  “I thought it was full of wit.” Hoxley said, changing her spear to the other shoulder. It was here that Hoxley noticed Morell was struggling to keep pace with the others because of the burden of his sizeable pack. At one point his boots found some unsettled rock and he fell forward almost bashing his head. His face was red with exhaustion. Idris and the prince were too far ahead to notice but Hoxley quickly closed the distance between them.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “You look like you could use some help.” She offered him the blunt end of her spear to grab onto.

  “Thank…*PANT* you, Hoxley.” he puffed. “The grade is at a larger angle than I’m…*PANT* used to.”

  “Quite.” She said. “Give me your pack. I’ll carry it for a small while.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s quite full.”

  “Come on.” She beckoned with her free hand. “I’ll hold it long enough for you to get your wind back. We still have a way to go and your pack is bigger than the others.”

  “It’s full of knowledge.” He continued to pant as he slipped his arms out of the loops. “I can’t leave it behind. It’s too valuable and the glass vials are too hard to come by.” Once free of the extra weight, he stood and offered the pack to Hoxley, who in turn situated it between her saddle bags where it wouldn’t fall off.

  “There.” She said. “Better?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Get moving. We need to catch up with the others.” No longer encumbered, Morell turned uphill and found new vigor to climb again. She checked the pack again to make sure it was seated comfortably then continued walking with the tall witch.

  “That’s awfully kind of you to share his load.” He said.

  “The inclines are steeper here. Besides, he didn’t ask me, I offered. It’s not too heavy for me to carry for a little while.” she said.

  “You saw his need and put his comfort before your own. That’s admirable.”

  “Would I not want someone to do the same for me?” she asked.

  “We all would like that, and we all should have a Hoxley to help us along.”

  “We can be Hoxley from the plains if we extend our selves to those in need.” She beemed with pride. “It rarely costs more than consideration and effort.”

  “True enough.” Ignatius nodded. “Those are witchly qualities. Are you sure you’re not one, perchance?”

  “I doubt my kind could be so adept with flying.”

  “Where will you go once you’ve delivered the prince to the west?” Ignatius asked.

  “Back to my routes. This whole ordeal has put me behind schedule but perhaps my recipients will be forgiving if I explain the circumstances for my delay. I enjoy my routes. I know them so well that I can travel them with hardly an upward glance. That gives me the opportunity to read.”

  “And what books do you read on your routes?”

  “I have one of fantastical fairy tales and one of woodworking.”

  “Woodworking?”

  “I should hope to build my own home one day. If I teach myself the fundamentals of things like joining and trussing now, I won’t struggle as much when the time comes to establish my own homestead. I was fortunate that that when I met the prince I had them stowed kept in my waterproofed saddlebags or they might have been ruined.”

  “It’s wise to keep them that way. Witches store their tomes in the same manner. If sealed properly they can be preserved for hundreds of years without turning to dust.”

  “I shall have to teach Morell of this so that his own tome can endure the passage of time.”

  “Yes.” Ignatius agreed. “That it’s for the best. Speaking of which, he and the others are getting ahead of us and I haven’t seen the twosome lately. I should check on them to make sure they’re not destroying anything or attempting to collect wildlife for pets.”

  “Perhaps you should.”

  “Perhaps we can talk later after we set up camp?” he asked

  “If you like.” She smiled. Ignatius hefted his broom, placed the pointed toe of his winklepicker on the section of the broom just above the bristles and launched himself like a shot into the sky to leave Hoxley to climb onward up the long ridgeline of Faustacon mountain. Drafts of air coming down from the frost-covered peaks began to chill her. When she got the first opportunity she reached back and found the blanket Bohga had given her and wrapped it around her. Its strange properties warmed her like being close to a campfire keeping the bite of the cold at bay. To the east, the same portentous dark clouds that had always lagged behind them lingered on the edge of the horizon. But this time, something about the sight of them this time was more unnerving than all the times before. At first Hoxley didn’t notice what it was. The clouds were no longer touching the edge of the distant sky. They were gaining on her and the others. They were following.