The Road to Her Roots

This was good. Very good!

A plan slowly came together as I approached her table with a deliberate calm, hands visible, expression warm. She looked up from arranging her little glass vials and met my gaze with something far sharper than her soft smile suggested.

"...Come closer, dear petal," she said sweetly. "What a tired face you wear. Must be the weight of so many little choices."

Behind me, Shadowheart and Lae’zel hovered seemingly uninterested in the gentle old lady.

"You have something I might be interested in," I said softly, not leaning in, but letting the weight of the words carry. "But it sits on another table."

Her smile didn’t falter, but the glint in her eyes sharpened. "Well now," she purred, "you’re not like the others, are you? Most come asking for tinctures and cures for headaches. You... want something else."

Lae’zel made a sound—half impatient grunt, half suspicious snort.

"This one’s not buying your potions, old woman," she muttered.

"Oh, don’t be rude, duckling," Ethel replied cheerfully. "I’m just a humble potion-seller helping where I can."

Shadowheart crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between us. "What exactly is it you want from her?"

"Just a conversation," I said with a smile. "It never hurts to know what’s brewing out there. Besides... might be nice with a tea break when we’re on the road."

Ethel cackled, a warm, wet sound. "Then come visit me, sweetlings. My house is nestled past the forest ridge, a darling little grove of my own. Bit of a walk—four days, give or take—but the kettle’s always on."

She tapped her temple. "We’ll talk business properly there. Too many ears here."

I nodded. "We’ll find you."

She smiled again and waved us off with a wrinkled hand. "Follow the forest path south at the village. Can’t miss it."

As we turned to leave, Lae’zel raised an eyebrow. "We are not detouring for an old woman’s teacup."

"It’s barely off our path," I said, "We need to get moving anyway, and a couple days won’t kill us."

"No," Shadowheart muttered, "but what is on the road just might."

I shrugged. "We’ll be careful."

Just as we started threading past the last rows of tents, a small figure darted out from behind a cart.

"Hey!"

Arabella. Her eyes darting back and forth, her hair wild, and her arms loaded with a patched-up sack.

She ran up, pressing the bundle into my hands.

"Here," she said breathlessly. "I stashed this from the kitchens and the traders. Should last you three days. Maybe four, if you’re not greedy."

I blinked. "You don't ha-"

"I wanted to," she cut in. "You helped me. And I know what it’s like to go hungry."

She fished a scrap of folded parchment from her belt and tucked it into my hand.

"If you ever come back and need... help. Sneaky help. Find me. I’ll be around."

The note read: “Fast hands. Innocent face. I owe you one.” It was signed with a little drawing of a fox paw.

She gave Shadowheart a shy nod and Lae’zel a cautious glance, then turned on her heel and sprinted back into the cluttered lanes.

"Strange little creature" Lae’zel muttered.

"She’s clever," Shadowheart said quietly.

I scrawled a crude map based on Ethel’s directions—just in case the wilderness had shifted. You never know. Before we set out, I paused and let my gaze linger over the grove one last time. The towering trees and quiet stone no longer looked like a sanctuary. It looked like a wild garden, overgrown and begging to be claimed.

Four days to Ethel’s lair. Four days to plan. And somewhere, deep in the my pocket, the seed of blasphemy pulsed—warm and eager.

Still, the road ahead wouldn’t be gentle. I’d need more than charm and wit to make it through. We needed another companion to join the party. Someone who could hold their own in a fight. Someone to carry our bags that were starting to get heavy. Someone Hot!