Page 117 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

“I already told you—I have no information.”

“You disappeared,” he growled, baring his teeth, many of which were rotted and black. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

Murmurs of agreement rose up behind him.

“One minute that man was carrying you through the bog, and the next, you were just gone. So what are you hiding behind that barrier?”

“Maybe I wasn’t hiding anything but me and him. Maybe I’m so sick of all of you coming to my bog and trying to attack me or steal my food or my plants that I decided it was time to disappear.”

Bald Man bared his teeth. “Except you shouldn’t be able to make yourself disappear.”

“Witch,” a short man with a goatee mumbled under his breath, and I rolled my eyes.

“You do know there’s such a thing as magic in this world, right?” I asked. “I found a magical object that creates invisibility.”

“And what godwitch could that have come from?” Bald Man asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe the Fairwitch herself.”

Everyone gasped.

Bald Man laughed. “Right. No one has ever found any magic powerful enough to belong to the Fairwitch.”

I swallowed thickly, realizing just how precarious a situation this was for Fairwitch Isle, why the brotherhood was so desperate to get their hands on that magic. It was so very rare.

The pitchfork jabbed at my stomach again, and this time, it ripped my dress and sliced my skin, causing blood to well.

“There’s something unnatural about you,” Broken Nose said from the front of the crowd.

“What tipped you off?” I asked. “Was it the green skin?”

“Just kill her,” someone yelled. “She’s not going to give us any information. Once she’s gone, we can take that magic for ourselves. Think what we can do with the power of invisibility.”

“I’ll kill her now.” A woman with a dagger surged forward, but Bald Man held out his pitchfork, stopping her.

“I’ll be the one to kill her.”

The woman backed off.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, even though terror had seized me.

His eyes narrowed.

“It’s just that this is a sentient bog, and as you well know, I’ve befriended it over the years. If I die, there will be no one to hold it back. To keep it from completely obliterating you. From spreading. Perhaps even spreading all the way to your town.”

Whispers spread throughout the crowd, and Bald Man’s eyes widened.

“You’ve never considered it, have you? That I might be the reason you’re not all dead. That this whole time, perhaps I’ve been protecting you, helping the bog satisfy its lust for blood while making sure it doesn’t decimate nearby towns.”

Maybe, just maybe, I could stay alive. Maybe I could get back to Fairwitch Isle. Back to Nevan. Once the thought entered my mind, I couldn’t deny how badly I wanted it. How badly I wanted to stay and survive and live the rest of my life with Nevan by my side.

Bald Man turned, a few of the townspeople joining him. They ducked their heads together in some kind discussion.

My heart pounded at the possibility that I might get free if they believed this stupid lie. Not only would I be free, but they’d leave us alone, believing that I was keeping this bog from killing them all.

Bald Man turned back to me, and my hope flickered at the fear in his eyes. He jabbed the pitchfork again, and I winced as it came near. If I was about to be impaled, these were my last moments on this earth. My last moments to witness the beauty of my bog.

I love you, Nevan.