Princess Nymeria's Arc

Chapter 6 of 32

Nymeria and the wolf walked two days through the trees. They rested at night, curled close for warmth. She kept her fire small and let it die before sleep. Roots cut her boots. Hunger gnawed her. On the third morning gray sun broke through the branches. She lifted her eyes and stopped. A tower stood ahead in a clearing. It rose tall and narrow, its stone cracked with age. Ivy climbed one side and hid the lower windows. The high windows glowed with a soft light, though no one had lit them. Strange marks shimmered on the walls, faint as breath on glass. A heavy door faced her. On it hung an iron knocker shaped like a snarling beast. The wolf halted at the tree line. Its ears flattened. A low growl slid from its throat. Nymeria laid a hand on its shoulder. "I have to," she said. "We can go no farther without help." She was tired down to her bones. She did not know what waited inside, or what the witch could do. She only knew she could not turn back. She crossed the clearing. The glowing windows watched her come. At the door she reached for the iron knocker. The beast's eyes seemed to shift toward her hand. She swallowed and lifted the ring. Before she could strike it, the door pulled open on its own. Warm air spilled out. It smelled of smoke and dried herbs. A voice came from the dark within, dry and old. "You've walked a long way, girl. I felt you enter my forest days ago." Nymeria could not see the speaker. She saw only stairs winding up, lit by more of that soft light. "I was told a witch lives here," Nymeria said. "I need help. I need a way to break my blood line to my father to be free." A thin laugh answered. A shape moved on the stairs. "Come up, then. Bring your wolf. I don't turn away the tired." Nymeria looked back at the wolf. It had crept to her side and pressed against her leg. It did not growl now. It watched the open door with steady eyes. She took that as a yes. She stepped over the threshold onto worn stone. The door swung shut behind them. She flinched at the sound. No light came from outside now, only the tower's glow. She was inside, past the last barrier the fishing woman had named. The wolf climbed the first stair. Nymeria followed it up toward the voice. She had reached the tower. She was no longer running through marsh or forest. Whatever the witch offered, whatever it cost, the choice now waited at the top of these stairs. For the first time in many days, Nymeria had a roof over her head and someone willing to speak with her. She climbed to meet the witch who might be able to help her.