Erdor had been traveling with a crotchety merchant for an entire day when the winding road came close to the forest. He had been beginning to doubt his own decision to trust that Uwain man at that point, his ears aching with the hours upon hours of cranky, disrespectful grumblings of a man certainly not old enough to be exclaiming so. He sorely missed Turanveil at this – he doubted his own country would be so… irritating.

But no, he had reminded himself. Ilora needed his help. Ilora needed his dedication. And if that meant putting up with this man who claimed to be the foremost merchant on this side of the world, then, well. He would put up with it.

But the moment he spotted the massive swathes of forest up front, he heaved an audible sound of relief, the clattering footsteps fo the horse coming to a stop a few feet from the entrance.

“Two ways you could go ’ere,” The merchant, whose name Erdor had struck from his mind the second he’d started railing on about the unfairness of life and the unwantedness of Erdor as a burden on his hands, said grudgingly. “Keep on the road for the Lady of the Night or go off track and hope the Forest Lady don’ kill you straight off.”

Erdor flinched. There was another…? “Forest Lady?” He asked.

The man nodded once. “Ain’t the best of friends, those two,” He admitted. “But at least Night don’t kill everyone she comes across.” He scoffed. “So better keep on the road, kid.” His eyes narrowed in malice. “Or go off it, see how it goes for ya.”

Erdor scowled back and said nothing. His mind, though, was flashing. There were two witches here, and that meant double the chance to figure out the answers to his problems. If Night didn’t know anything about Belawain, Forest might, even if she did sound a tad bit homicidal. Of course, it wasn’t like Erdor trusted his current traveling partner, so it was possible the man was wrong, but caution was better than finding himself on the pointed end of a magic spell.

And yet, he would have to do that anyway, for if Night really didn’t know—

He grimaced, spared a look for the suddenly much more sinister forest on every side, and then looked straight ahead. “We are travelling together, are we not?” He said. “If I do go off it, I’m sure you shall be at my side.”

“Well, I never!” The man gasped, starting him on the next tirade.

Erdor winced. Had he really had to run his mouth?

Unfortunately, he could find no answer to that because the desire to do so again continued to rise with every second he was spending in this guy’s presence.

Erdor’s eyes twitched.

The cart clattered along.

The road up ahead weaved through the forest, bottlenecked at times by menacing shrubbery and branches, and yet, they seemed to recede when they came close enough to touch them.

Magic, of course.

Erdor continued trying to ignore his companion in a desperate effort to figure out how this magic worked. There was obviously an invisible, indicated barrier. A border that ran across the edges of the road, barring it from being part of the forest and the forest from it. They were kind of like the borders between kingdoms if Erdor was truly honest — seemingly stupid but inherently dangerous. One wrong step, and…

He frowned. Then again, why was it that this Forest witch was more dangerous? And why was it that Uwain hadn’t even mentioned her? Of course, he’d only met Uwain for a grand total of two minutes before being deposited on… this man’s cart and boosted off to who-knew-where, to the Night witch, a couple of gold coins lighter than he had been before. Not that it had seemed like Uwain had needed those coins. The man had looked completely disinterested in them, even as he demanded them in payment.

Something about him—

Erdor shook his head. What was the point of thinking about it anymore? Uwain was no more involved here. He’d be better off thinking how he might handle the witch at the end of this road.

Next to the cart, the flowers bristled and the weedy grass fluttered, and it was strangely menacing, despite being literal plants. Erdor snapped his head to look forward instead, noting absently that the old man was still on his rant.

No, he told himself. It really was better to think about what awaited him at the end of this road first. The rest would come later, if at all.

Hopefully, this witch would know where to find the stupid caves of Belawain so he could find the stupid wish magic that would save his sister, and then he’d be home in time to be betrothed to that spoiled princess his parents had mentioned and all would be right with the world.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Right.

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

It took them another hour to finally reach an opening, but it was obvious when they did because the road started broadening, and the perilously closed-up trees broke off, leaving in their place a lovely garden path leading up to a polished metal fence.

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Erdor perked up at the sight, his eyes landing on the veritable castle behind it. Of course, his own home was much larger, but this was greater than any of the buildings he’d gotten used to seeing in the past couple of weeks, flitting from tavern to inn to whatever else found itself possibly home to possibly important information.

The building rose up some five or so floors, two spires on each side, crafted with red brick. Vines and branches weaved across the walls, embracing each crack and crevice, hugging every edge and turn. Windows peered out from every floor, shining in the distance as sunlight fell on them.

There was a door at the bottom that Erdor and his companion came to a stop in front of — polished brown wood carved beautifully, albeit simply, and as soon as the horse stopped and took a breath, before Erdor could even twitch, it pulled open soundlessly, a beautiful woman peering out.

She blinked, her dark eyes glittering with momentary confusion her long hair swept back, and then her expression contorted into a scowl. “I never allowed a second visitor!” She snapped, her voice sharp.

Erdor’s eyes flared. Okay, why hadn’t he considered that the Witch wouldn’t want to meet him?

“It wa’n’t me, my lady,” Erdor’s snivelling travel guide said, shooting Erdor another poisonous look. “I’d not have brought ’im with me if I’d the choice.”

Erdor rolled his eyes.

The Lady of the Night’s eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms. “... Then why, exactly, is he here?” She asked, voice still cold, body held unnaturally still.

“I came to see you,” Erdor said, cutting off the other man. “And I was told I would find you here.”

“Who in the world—”

“The trader,” Erdor’s companion said. “Sir Uwain.”

Night broke off.

If Erdor didn’t know better, he might have sworn there was fear in her eyes. But she was a witch, and Uwain a mere trader – if a suspicious one – so what did she have to fear? She was the one who supplied to him, right?

Unless there was something more going on that Erdor was not privy to. Secret deals, perhaps, or blackmail… except what blackmail would even manage to keep a witch in line? Is a witch powerful enough to survive in a kingdom that had banished her kind?

“I see,” Night said, and suddenly, Erdor couldn’t read anything about her at all. “Very well. Callus,” She said, pointing at the merchant. “Unload everything as usual. I shall deal with my unwanted guest myself.”

And then she jerked her head inside, not waiting to see if Erdor followed.

Erdor did.

The door led to a three-way hall, but the witch kept walking straight onward, and so did Erdor. The doors to either side were closed, but, in the end, they made a sharp turn into a room that was set up to be kind of like an office.

Though why a witch needed an office Erdor didn’t know. Maybe to handle people like him? Who ended up on their doorstep, referenced by this apparently powerfully influential Uwain who was potentially blackmailing her?

Well, it was a possibility.

Or, he reasoned, feeling foolish, it came with the house.

“Uwain led you to me?” She asked, point blank the moment he sat down.

Erdor shifted uncomfortably at the glare in her eyes but nodded. “Yes,” He said. “I met him—”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then gave a sharp shake of her head, cutting him off. “No need,” She said stiffly. “I am well aware what he needs from me.”

Erdor hesitated. Did she… did she think he was Uwain’s agent? Why would Uwain even need an agent if he could so clearly control what the witch did?

Unless, of course, the witch would kill him off when he came into sight, which was frankly very possible, considering even a fraction of what magic-users were capable of, let alone magic-users as powerful as these witches were purported to be.

Yes, that did make more sense.

But before he could clear up the confusion, the witch continued, taking his momentary silence as affirmation. “You can return with Callus as soon as possible,” She said coldly. “And let Uwain know that I am currently in the process of extracting the information he needs about the key to Belawain.” She scoffed, adding, under her breath, “It’s not like I’m going to be able to run off and do the next part myself.”

Erdor stilled all thoughts of disillusioning this woman flying out of the window.

The key to Belawain.

Well, this was suspiciously fortuitous… and quite pointed, considering Uwain had to have some idea, for why else would she help Erdor find this woman? This woman who he was blackmailing?

This woman who he was collaborating with to reach Belawain.

He straightened his shoulders. “No,” He said, because he couldn’t very well leave, now could he? Not when he was so close. “I must stay until we have the information.” His eyes narrowed. “If you’re having trouble extracting it—”

Night flinched, rage contorting her features for the briefest of seconds before a hint of fear and a flicker of the eyes in the direction of the entrance smoothed it out. “I cannot work with a peanut gallery,” She sneered.

Erdor’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t falter. “Then you must learn,” He said haughtily. “Or is it that you wish Uwain to learn what orders you’re making against him?”

It was mostly a gamble.

The hesitance in Night’s eyes and the twitching of her fingers?

That wasn’t.

She slammed her hands on the table, and Erdor could feel the slightest wave of magic. It did not harm him, thank Rulan, but it was real, and it clung to him even as it washed through him. “Fine,” Night said with gritted teeth and stormed out of the room.