7 Chapter 7: A Warm Bed

SALEM: What could a witch want from me?

Usually a witch wanted me dead and I wanted her head. So there was always a conflict of interest.

"What do you want?" I asked.

She pointed at the corn.

"Give me some of that."

I raised an eyebrow. In my experience, witches didn't need to eat. Or at least they didn't need to eat as often as we humans. Something to do with their magic. The powers in their blood was almost like sustenance in itself, allowing a witch to forgo food for a couple of weeks if need be.

Which is why every witch hunter was told to finish off a witch quickly. If the chase lasted for days, the advantage would quickly turn towards the witch. And that was deadly.

I told her this and went back to eating. No food for her.

Elina's eyes smiled. I sensed that she was thinking of something diabolical. I said nothing.

She said, "And a man does not need a woman to warm his bed and yet he craves for it."

Silence.

She said, "You don't deny it?"

I said nothing.

Elina snickered.

Maybe I should've gagged her.

She raised her shackled wrists. "My magic is sealed off, remember? And without magic, I'm as frail as a human. So you have two options: you can undo these shackles or you can give me some of that corn."

Hmmm, clever witch. Maybe she was trying to appear friendly enough to make me trust her. Maybe she thought this was enough to force a mistake out of me.

I said, "You really do take me for a fool, don't you?"

"I really do take you for a fool." Her eyes narrowed. The corners crinkled. The fire danced in her eyes.

She added, "After all, compared to me, you are just a boy."

"How so? You look younger than me."

"I may be younger, but my magic carries eons of wisdom."

She almost literally glowed with pride. Like a kid.

But what she said was weird. In all the witches I killed, they always referred to their magic as 'power' or 'sacred ability'. No one ever called their magic 'wisdom.'

She pointed at the corn again. "So give me some of that. You are no gentleman, are you? No wonder you travel alone. No woman would want a man like you. I'm so hungry...what would your priest say when he sees his precious Elina starved and — "

I grabbed a stick of corn and shoved it in her mouth.

"Hgnhhhh!"

I watched her struggle to breathe. She spat it out, coughed and glared at me with pulsing eyes. The magic in her was boiling, but the gransia handcuffs kept her in check.

She said, "You brainless brute! What do you think you're doing?"

"Feeding you."

She pointed at the corn on the ground. "It's dirty, you eat that. Give me a new one. Gently place it in my hands and I shall forgive you."

I always wondered what it was like to talk to a witch. I never really got to do that because I always killed them before we had the chance for a proper conversation. Now I knew what it was like. I think killing them quickly is better.

But if I disobeyed her here, she will just keep on blabbering. Better to keep her quiet. I handed her the corn and she chewed on it with great satisfaction.

She asked if I had some wine to go with it. I didn't. She looked disappointed.

It was weird. She seemed...too happy. Too relaxed. Like she was on vacation. Like this was all a game.

Elina tilted her head slightly and looked at me. "What's wrong?"

I pointed at her. "You are strange. Aren't you worried? Or afraid? Not even a little bit?"

She let out a long and thoughtful breath. She looked up at the night sky, the endless expanse of stars.

She said, "Should I be? I'm alive, aren't I? I have hot food in my hands and a warm tent to sleep in. Considering that I've lost my magic, my fortunes are rather good."

I glanced at my tent. At some point she decided that she would sleep in it.