“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“We’re leaving this place for the big, bad world. I, for one, am glad I won’t have to deal with someone bothered by my adventures.” Guntar did a shimmy of his hips and laughed.
“Is that what you are calling it now?” Anders snorted. The woods around them began to darken noticeably, despite the fact that it was early afternoon still.
“Getting dark out here.” Anders tilted his head to glance overhead, seeing the darkening sky through barren branches.
Guntar followed suit with a squint and muttered, “Storm clouds.” He took a swig and belched. “That sucks.”
“Sucks? What kind of verbiage is that?” Anders asked.
“Army talk. You’ll have a whole new vocabulary soon,” Guntar promised.
“Does that vocabulary have a word for this is going to get ugly?” The sky didn’t just swallow all the light, it began dumping thick snowflakes that didn’t melt when they hit the ground and foliage. But worse, it obscured the path ahead.
They were in the woods, far from home or the next town. Increasing their pace made no sense, and yet, they both began walking faster, talking as if they were out for a stroll.
“I can’t believe you’re going to get married soon. Won’t be long before Alva spits out some babies.”
“I guess.” Anders hadn’t thought that far. His first plan was to make enough so they could marry.
“At least you’ll be making enough to support Alva in style. You’ll need a house. You should get one close to mine.”
“A house?” he repeated dumbly.
“You can’t exactly live with your mother.”
He grimaced. “That would be cruel to Alva. But then again so was her suggestion.”
“What has Alva said about where you should live?” a curious Guntar asked.
“She thinks I should move in with her parents and become a baker.” No hiding his dislike of that idea.
Guntar winced. “That sounds respectable and cozy.”
“Not to mention I’m not a baker.”
“No, but it wouldn’t be a bad thing to inherit a business. After all, she is an only child. I changed my mind. I think it’s smart of you to convince her to wait for you.”
“That’s not why I asked!” He couldn’t hide his indignation at the suggestion.
“Says you. Don’t care. In just a few days, we’ll be taking our place in the ranks. And it’s going to be grand. Fighting and then coming home for the heroes’ celebration. And fucking. So much fucking.” Guntar’s tone was vulgar, and Anders imagined he leered.
He couldn’t actually see his friend’s face. He couldn’t see a damned thing in front of him. All sense of direction and light had disappeared.
“It’s awfully dark for this time of day. I can’t see shit,” Anders declared, stepping in front of Guntar to stop him.
“So, it’s not just me? I was worried I was drunk.” Guntar squinted, his face inches from Anders but barely visible.
“How do we know we’re going in the right direction?”
“We don’t.”
“Maybe we should stop and hope the storm blows by quick.”
Guntar disagreed. “Not here. We’re too exposed. We need to find shelter. A decent-sized tree to provide a windbreak at the least; a thicket would be best.”
“What about a house?” Anders murmured aloud. “Is it me, or do you see a light over there?”
“Where?” Guntar exclaimed, only to gasp. “It is light. Let’s go.”
Anders could hear his friend huffing as they went through the woods, weaving around trees that suddenly cropped up to smack them, the storm whipping at their exposed skin. The cold permeated every inch of him to the point he felt nothing in his limbs. A bad sign. He’d be lucky if he got to keep all his parts.
As they neared the light, the storm relented, but only enough that they could see that they trudged towards a house. Brightly lit windows flanked a door, and a stable was attached.
Anders took a step closer, and the blowing snow ceased whipping. He froze in place and gaped. At the edge of the clearing, the storm turned gentle, the flakes falling softly, pleasantly.
Unnaturally. Which led to him growling.
“Sorcery.”
CHAPTER TWO
Anders jumped out of the sorcerous clearing in front of the cottage. He wouldn’t be tainted.
Guntar stood inside the calm zone, arms crossed, brow arched. “What are you doing?”
Anders stared at his friend. “Everyone knows nothing good comes of magic.” They had been taught the adage from a young age.
“That is small-town thinking. Better open your mind if you’re going to survive the big, bad world.” Guntar headed for the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Looks warm inside.”
“You can’t go in there,” Anders insisted. “The witch lives here.” He should have realized what they’d found the moment they saw it.
People spoke of the witch of Briar Forest in whispers. Everyone knew she lived in the woods, even as no one could say exactly where. People went to visit her when they needed a special kind of help. But her aid always came with a price.
“She’s a witch, not Satan’s handmaiden. We need somewhere to get warm and dry.” Guntar showed no qualms as he stalked to the door.
As Guntar rapped, Anders approached slower, eyeing the swirling storm that stopped at an invisible barrier, leaving the cottage and yard amid an uncanny, gentle snowfall. The house had a solid appearance to it with its mortared river stone walls. A thatched roof held a layer of snow through which a chimney peeked. Anders could smell smoke.
Which meant warmth. He also scented—
“Food!” Guntar groaned. “I am so hungry.”
So very, very hungry. The need hit Anders hard, and he was at Guntar’s shoulder when the door opened.
Heavenly scents spilled out. Heat, too—the kind to seep into cold, wet muscle and bone.
“Oh, goodness. What have we here?” The matronly figure in front of them was at least two handspans shorter than them both and much rounder. Her hair was a frazzled mess pulled back into a bun. Eyes bore crinkles that matched the happy ones by her mouth.
“Sorry to show up unannounced. We were caught by the storm.” Guntar, gallant as ever, poured on the charm. Women loved it and his blond looks.
Not Alva, though. She loved Anders.
“It’s nasty outside. Won’t you come in where it’s warm?”
Guntar had no issue. “Thank you.”
Anders hesitated. He couldn’t help recalling the miller’s wife’s words the time she’d sent Anders and her son, Pietro, into the woods for mushrooms. “If you ever accidentally come across the Briar Forest witch, keep in mind whatever it is she offers, the price will always be too high.”
Guntar beckoned. “Get inside. She’s not going to hurt you.”
“Me?” The woman giggled and looked about as dangerous as a mouse.
Wind slapped Anders as the calm disappeared. The sudden influx of cold had him tightening.
The woman looked grave for a moment as she said, “Best come in. Looks like the eye of the storm has passed on.”