Elina

By the afternoon it was time to think about where stay. I had no place in mind and no place to go. On this particular stretch of road, there were no travel inns. We'd have to camp tonight. But the ground was wet. The only choice was to sleep in the cart.

With a witch.

I glanced behind me.

Elina was unusually quiet. Instead of sitting in the front seat, she had chosen to lie among the corn in the back. She stared at the sky, her silver eyes reflecting the vast blue.

At first I enjoyed the silence. But then it began to bother me. Because Elina would always be saying something. To get under my skin. To bother me.

But she said nothing.

Eventually I broke the silence.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"Hmmm..."

Nothing more. I looked back. Her expression was vague. Her eyes looking at nothing in particular. She didn't seem bored. But something else.

Melancholy. That is what I sensed. Or something along the lines of that. I don't pretend to understand women. Much less witches.

Although Yulia would say that is precisely why I'm not married.

...

Anyways.

I said, "Are you thinking about what Julia told you? What awaits you in Merkelborough?"

"Hmmm..."

"Or how a witch can love a witch hunter?"

"Hmmm..."

I don't think I can get her to talk. At least not about what Julia told her. The more I asked the worse it would get. Because if I showed interest, then she'd continue to use that information as a bargaining chip. For something that isn't a commodity. Trust.

Let's see if she's willing to talk about something else.

"You said witches need to find a human lover in order to...reproduce."

"Mh-hmm..."

"Which means every witch has parents."

"That's right."

"Are witches raised by a mother?"

"Yup."

"What happens to the father?"

"He tends to die. One way or another."

"Oh." Then I asked, "Where is your mother?"

Silence.

There was some shifting and rustling behind me. I looked back and saw that Elina was sitting. I couldn't quite discern what emotion she wore on her face. Her unnerving silver eyes carried no emotion, and yet in their endless depths I saw something. Magic, wisdom, a whirlwind.

She said, "I don't have a mother."

"What do you mean?"

She didn't answer. Instead she got up and sat down beside me. She nudged me with her elbow. I helped her wrap her cape around her and then pulled the hood over her head.

She said, "Someone is coming."

-----------------------------

Shameful.

Although I couldn't help it.

The rhythm of the cart, the smell of the rain, the splashing of mud. The last time I traveled like this was with my father. How nostalgic.

Traveling with Salem has its own advantages. Like with the person we met moments later.

A horse drawn cart was faster than walking. We caught up to a girl traveling on foot.

I glanced at Salem. This was going to be fun. Because something in his eyes changed when he saw her.

The girl's eyes were sky blue and her hair was long and blonde. Her smile as sweet as honey and her words like a timid song. She was the type of girl Salem liked. Because she's the type of girl all men liked.

Salem wasn't wise enough to be suspicious. And his usual instincts were overruled by an even more primitive instinct.

Heh-heh~

At first she looked normal to me. Perfect even. The way she tucked her hair behind her ears, the shy look in her eyes, the rhythm of her words, the lips that begged to be kissed. She was less of a person and more of a fantasy. Which was suspicious.

But my eyes couldn't see anything wrong about her. So I focused a little magic to my nose.

Hmmm…