"May I join your fire?" the woman's voice called from the darkness.

Hina looked at Kai, who shrugged. There was no point in pretending that they weren't there.

"Welcome," Hina called back.

A small, olive-skinned woman stepped through the gap in the boulders to the west. She wore a thick, grey dress and leaned on a gnarled and twisted staff. The staff was as tall as she was. A green shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, and she had short, dark hair and a pointy chin. Her face was heavily lined, and wore the hint of a smile.

"Welcome," Hina said again. "Please come and sit by the fire and share in our hospitality," she said, reciting the words from Guest-rites by O. Grant.

"Very gracious," the woman said with a nod. "I accept your hospitality." She set her staff to lean against a boulder, and sat down almost directly across the fire from Hina, legs to one side. Her eyes twinkled. "So, what's for dinner?"

Oh. Hina had offered her food, hadn't she. "Uh, spiced red beans. And eggs. Would you like a bowl?"

"That would be lovely, dearie."

"My name is Hina." Oh. Should she have introduced herself with a false name? Next time.

"Kai."

"Ah. A pleasure to meet you both, I am Gerda," the woman said, watching Hina closely.

Hina broke eye contact, leaning towards the cook pot to fill a bowl for the woman. The beans were a bit watery, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

She gave Gerda her own bowl and spoon. They only had the two sets, but someone could eat from the cookpot, or Hina and Kai could take turns.

"My thanks."

Hina served up another helping into Kai's bowl and passed it over to him, along with the other spoon, keeping the pot for herself.

She caught the woman's eyes on her as she moved back to her seat by the fire. "Please, go right ahead."

"Not eating, child?"

"Uh, we only have the two spoons," Hina said, cheeks burning. It was hot by the fire. "I'll eat after Kai."

"Ah, I see. Well, we can't have that. Someone might get the wrong idea. Here." Gerda held out a spoon.

Hina frowned at it. Gerda hadn't retrieved it from anywhere that Hina had seen—it had just appeared in her hand. "Thank you," Hina said. It was a shining, silver thing that caught the firelight, with black lines running through the face of it—carvings?

She took a bite of the beans, holding the pot by the wrapped handle with one hand away from her body while she used the spoon with her other hand. The beans were bland, but hearty enough, and as she took that first bite, Hina realised that she was starving.

Across the fire, Gerda smiled in approval. She dipped Hina's spoon into Hina's bowl and took a delicate bite.

Hina ate quickly, one bite after another.

As the silver spoon scraped the bottom of the pot clean, she vaguely remembered that she had been planning for left-overs when she started soaking the beans in the morning. They would have to cook more next time. And be better prepared for unexpected guests.

Hina looked up, and the woman was watching her, smiling.

"Hungry?" Gerda said.

"Yes," said Hina, her face hot. "It's been a long day... Why are you travelling the wilds, after dark?"

"It's hot, and filling—just the thing after a long walk. My compliments to the cook," Gerda said, glancing at Kai and then Hina before settling back on Hina. "Thank you both for your generosity. It is a rare thing, to find welcoming strangers in the dark." Gerda put her bowl down. "As to my business, I was kept late, visiting friends who live in the area."

"Do you live nearby?"

"Oh, no, dearie. My home is a long way from here. I was just passing through. I have a handful of other visits to make, to meet friends, and perhaps to make some new ones."

"In the wild?" asked Kai. He threw another piece of wood onto the fire. The flames danced up.

"Oh, I have friends all around these parts." Gerda smiled again, showing neat white teeth. "Always happy to make new friends."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Isn't it dangerous, travelling alone? What about the beasts?"

"There's nothing in this valley which would harm an old woman like me." She smirked. "And if something or someone gets any ideas, well, I have a few tricks up my sleeve." Her smile faded. "But what about you, children? What are you doing out here all alone, armed with only your good manners?"

"We're on our way to visit family," Hina said, and Kai nodded from across the fire. "In Brampton."

"Ah, fellow travellers then," she said. "Brave of you. Brave and foolish. What would you do if a beast of the wild stumbled across your campsite?"

"We'd fight," Kai said.

"We'd run away," Hina said, glancing at Kai. "At least, we would if whatever it was was beyond our ability to fight."

"Yes, dearie, know your limits." The woman nodded. "But running into the dark? Towards other, perhaps more dangerous beasts? What if you were sleeping when a beast came across the campsite? Hmm?"

"We'd manage," Hina said. She thought of thorny vines creeping closer while they slept. "We've managed so far."

"Hmph. Toothless," the woman muttered. "But a whiff of power, just a hint." Her voice rose: "What would you do girl? What would you do, I wonder, for power? For real power?"

"Uh, excuse me?"

"You are a practitioner? A student of power?"

Hina hesitated before nodding. She gave up on the Brampton story. "I—I would like to be."

"Who is your master, girl?"

Hina shook her head. "I have none. I—"

The woman frowned. "Oh, I see—the academy? You're one of theirs?"

Hina nodded slowly.

"Hmph." The woman lapsed into silence.

Hina turned to look at Kai. He was staring at her, eyes wide. He shook his head in a short, slight movement.

"I was a student myself once," the woman continued, drawing Hina's gaze like a magnet. "It was different, perhaps, in those days. My master was a cruel man, my apprenticeship long and harsh. But I learned my lessons well," she said. "Better than that old fool expected, certainly."

"Wh—"

"For all his foul nature and petty lessons, my master liked to keep secrets. It wasn't until after his untimely passing that I learned all that was to be learned from that man. He kept his journals well-hidden, but I found them in the end."

"Wha—"

"He deserved everything that he got, that one," Gerda smiled nastily. "As so many do," she said. "In any case, what I mean is that I feel a certain kinship with you, girl, as you scrabble around in the dark looking for power. Scurrying from place to place, keeping out of sight of your betters."

"I—"

"I have a gift for you."

"That's really not—"

"Enough, girl. If I wish to give you a gift, I will. And none will stop me."

Gerda turned away from the fire and seemed to be doing something with one hand, out of Hina's sight.

"No, no. Hmm," Gerda muttered, "Ah, yes. Yes."

Gerda held something out to Hina. "Take this, may it keep you safe in the night." It was a small piece of paper, no, a card.

"Thank you," Hina said, her voice small. She took the card. It looked a lot like ... her cycling exercise? The words were hard to make out in the firelight, but the title read something about a barrier. Something fluttered in her chest. It looked like exactly what she needed.

"Ah. And this." Gerda held out another card. "For your development—it's better for everyone that you learn to work a sign early, and this is one of the friendlier ones. Hmm, perhaps suited to your nature, I could not say," she said. "Learn its lessons and put it aside. Do not bind yourself to it—I would be very cross to see your potential wasted, dear." Her voice turned hard. "And we don't want that, do we now?"

"Thank you," Hina said again, shaking her head.

"And hmm." She looked at Hina intently. "Yes. You have potential. But strengthen your ambit before you attempt the sign, yes? You have a guide to the basics of ambit compression?"

Hina considered her other academy exercise, but that was on ambit expansion, which didn't sound like the same thing. She shook her head no.

"I don't know what they're teaching in the academy these days." She turned again. "Don't skimp on your foundation, girl. Waste of everybody's time. Ambit compression is essential for any lasting career in the art."

Hina hadn't been taught anything yet, but she didn't correct Gerda.

"One last gift then." The woman turned back, holding out another card. "Polyander is an arse, but his introductories are... acceptable."

"Right, of course," said Hina, not understanding at all. "Thank you." She took the card.

"Enough. More than an even trade for a bowl of bad soup." Gerda stood. "When we meet again, you will be in my debt for this kindness. Do you understand?"

Hina nodded.

"Speak, girl."

"I understand."

"Good. The deal is struck," she said. "Now, I must be on my way. I have friends to visit, and I am sure you have a long journey ahead of you. Good night, children."

Gerda took up her staff and stood, made eye contact with Hina. "I do hope that nothing eats you before we meet again," she said, teeth flashing in the flickering light. She walked off between the boulders and out into the night.

Hina held her breath for a long moment. Gerda didn't come back.

The trees swayed in the breeze, shadows dancing among the trunks and the branches.

Hina sighed and turned to Kai. "What just happened?"

"Was that—" He coughed. "Did we just meet a witch?" His eyes were wide.

Hina shook her head. "I don't even know." She paused. "Don't ever say that where she can hear you. We do not want to offend that woman."

"What did she give you?"

It was too dark to read the tiny text, but she could make out the titles. "The first one is: Introductory Ambit Development, then," she turned to the next cards, "The Lesser Sigil of Guidance and Bell's Lesser Barrier—they look like the exercises with the letter from the academy."

"Hmm. Are they... safe? That woman... she wasn't right, Hina. Something was wrong with her."

"I don't know. I don't think she was trying to hurt us? I'll look at them in the morning."

Hina looked in the direction that Gerda had gone, but there was no movement. No telling whether she would return, or when. When we meet again, she had said. Hina shivered despite the warmth of the night.

She tidied up, collecting the bowl from where the woman had been sitting—the food seemed to be untouched. Gerda had only taken a single bite.

But Hina's spoon was gone. Gerda had taken it, and left the silvery carved one behind.

Hina slept poorly, dreaming of shouting figures, her hand on a knife and oh so much blood.

In the morning, Hina woke with the sun which came far too early. Daylight streamed in through the trees.

Her memories of the night before seemed hazy and unreal. The exercise cards lay on top of her bag where she'd left them.