The witch laughed. It was a high-pitched melodious tinkle. “What makes you think I need coin?”
“Then what do you want?”
“Two hundred years,” she stated and then gestured to the poor souls trapped in the ice. “After two hundred years, you pay me with a soul.”
Anise bit her lip. “But I get the power of a shifter for two hundred years?”
She could live as one of the wolves in Crescent Hollow for two centuries before she needed to lose her soul. And in that time, she could shift into a wolf, run through the forest, and feel the joy and freedom other shifters always waxed poetic about when they’d come into the tavern. For two centuries, she would hold mana within her body and cast spells without needing to resort to potions or elixirs. Wasn’t that all she’d wanted? To belong?
“You don’t need to change. You’re perfect the way you are.”
Part of her wanted to believe Caraway’s words, and part of her wanted to not need to. She hated that she yearned for his approval, the same as everyone else’s. She hated that she wanted to fit in, but the constant anxiety was a noose over her head. She’d never be rid of it if she didn’t try this.
The witch squinted at her. “I can see you have doubts, and I know it’s because of the male who followed you. Let me give you a piece of free advice.” She leaned forward in her throne until her orange top hat tilted on her head. If it weren’t for her rabbit ears poking through cutout holes, the hat may have fallen right off. “Males, of any species, are not to be trusted. They take what they want, but they’ll never give you what you need. It’s in their nature. They're the hunters, not the nurturers. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better.”
That’s when Anise realized every frozen body in the ice was male.
The witch stood and stepped down the dais. With wistful eyes, she trailed her fingers along the icy walls of her macabre museum.
“I wasn’t always like this.” She gestured to her ears. “I used to shift into a rabbit. And like you, I came looking for a way to become more than less. But then I found him.” She stopped at a particular shadowed figure trapped in the ice. A tall fae, handsome and ominous in his expression, even as he was petrified. “He seduced me, and he stole my mana. He harvested it for his own use. But you see, he made a mistake. He believed that those lesser fae were beneath him.” She snarled at the shadow. “He should have killed me when he had the chance.”
“Caraway’s stolen nothing from me,” Anise said. Her experience wasn’t the same as this female’s.
The witch’s eyes snapped toward Anise. “All males are the same.”
Anise shook her head. Perhaps the witch’s story was meant to convince her to give up on Caraway, but it only made her realize he wasn’t Anise’s enemy. He’d never believed she was beneath him. No, she loved him. She wouldn’t involve him in this.
“I just want the ability to shift.”
The witch held out her hand. “So we have a deal?”
Anise paused, but two hundred years of fulfillment was a long time. She could be happy.
She nodded and shook the witch’s hand. “Yes, we have a deal.”
Thunder cracked through the hall. The walls shook. Tiny icicles showered from the ceiling. Anise thought, perhaps, that it was because of the bargain they’d just struck, but the witch’s facial expression was as surprised as Anise’s.
They disengaged and Anise repeated. “You give me the ability to shift into a wolf for two hundred years, and I give you my soul after that.”
“Oh, little wolf. It’s too late to add specifics.” The witch’s peach lips curved into a wicked grin. “Now, I didn’t say whose soul was payment.”
Then she laughed a big cackling sound that shriveled Anise’s resolve. What could she mean? Not Anise’s soul? Then whose—
Caraway burst into the room, his face contorted in fury, his fist around his long broadsword. Long legs strode into the center of the hall.
“What did you do?” he demanded to the witch.
He stormed toward where she had retreated to her throne. He raised his sword high above his head, but before he could arc his swing downward, the witch flicked her wrist and ice shot out of the ground beneath his feet. Water sprung like a geyser to surround Caraway’s body. It only took seconds, and his sword was knocked from his hands. It clattered loudly to the ground.
“No!” Anise shouted. “Leave him alone.”
But the witch just laughed as the water slithered up Caraway’s body and turned to ice. His doe-eyed gaze flicked to Anise, and then to his fallen sword with a forlorn finality before he became completely encased—frozen.
Anise hissed at the witch. “No! I don’t agree to give him. Let him go.”
The witch clicked her tongue and then pouted. “Yes, you did agree.”
“He’s not mine to give,” Anise insisted.
“His heart is yours, therefore it is yours to give.”
Anise snarled and ran toward the throne, aiming for her dagger. The witch flicked her hand, and Anise went flying backward. She landed hard and skidded across the icy floor, groaning in pain. But if she couldn’t get close to the witch, how could she defeat her?
Gaining the ability to shift wasn’t worth Caraway’s life. It wasn’t worth his soul. She couldn’t do this to him. Groaning, Anise clutched her side where the ice had bruised. She rolled and faced the ground then tried to crawl away from the witch, but only managed to get to the base of Caraway’s icy tomb. She used the column to drag herself into a sitting position, then scowled at the witch.
“You tricked me,” she accused. “You never said it had to be another’s soul.”
“I said a soul, dearie, not your soul. You clearly weren’t listening hard enough. How do you think you’ll gain the ability to shift? It has to come from somewhere.”
“Still, why his? Why not someone else’s?”
“Because he’s the only one who belongs to you. He’s the only one you have a right to give.” The witch's brows rose. “Don’t you see? My ability was stolen from me, but I took it back, plus more! You can finally be powerful. You can have them all whimpering at your feet. You can take what you want, just like they do.”
Anise squeezed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, her gaze landed on Caraway’s sword. Her mind blanked.
His sword.
Caraway had glanced at it before he’d frozen. Thinking back, it had been a purposeful glance. A message?
Take the weapon and use it.
But the sword was metal. Metal was forbidden because it halted the flow of mana through the earth, air, water, and through bodies of any fae. The sword would cut through any magic the witch threw Anise’s way. It would cut through the witch. But just as the thoughts formed in her head, Anise felt disappointment crush her breath. Guardians were the only fae alive who could use metal weapons, and not disrupt their own flow of mana. Anyone else would experience extreme pain when using it.
But… she wasn’t just anyone else.
She already had no mana. She couldn’t shift. There was nothing in her body for the sword’s metal to disrupt.
Caraway had known that. The look he’d given the sword was a message.