Page 2 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

Silence stretched between us, and I finally summoned the courage to look up, but Ambrose had already disappeared.

Vine hovered over me, and I glanced up and sighed. “I wasn’t that mean.”

Vine nodded emphatically, and I rolled my eyes, feeling a lot like a child being chastised. I’d spent far too much of my life being judged for my actions, and I didn’t need that from Vine right now.

It wrapped around the amulet hanging from my neck, shaking it, the green inside swirling in a frenzy of glitter and smoke that reminded me of things I didn’t want to think about right now. I snatched it back, nestling it into its place against my heart. Vine worried too much, and I was tiring of it.

“I’ve got my bog,” I said, “and that’s all I need.”

I dropped a few more seeds into another hole and covered them with soil.

Plump, dark clouds filled the sky, blocking the sun. It would rain today, so there was no need to water the seeds.

My stomach grumbled, and I realized I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I stood, dusting my hands on my baggy green gardening dress, then walked to a row of bright red peppers and picked one, biting into it. I’d bartered for these seeds on one of my trips to a nearby town, which I tried to make as sparingly as possible.

I’d always wished I could grow food that wasn’t poisonous, but the first time I’d tried to create a batch of cucumbers, I’d made my mother sick to their stomach. I still remembered how angry they’d been, even though they’d recovered quickly with their immortal body. It was that moment I discovered the only way I could grow edible food was by trading for seeds to plant instead of creating them myself.

I’d learned to stop trying to be something I wasn’t and to only use my magic in ways that benefited me.

Across the water, rows of cucumbers, squash, radishes, and sweet potatoes lined a patch of land, all of them poisonous. I didn’t eat those, of course. Those particular vegetables were for any mortals who decided to steal food. They’d take their loot, get sick, and never come back. I had many, many ways of scaring off humans to ensure my bog remained free of them.

I continued munching the red pepper and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm, admiring my little haven.

A lily pad floated in the water in front of me, and I stepped onto it, Vine slithering next to my foot as we moved toward my cottage.

It rose to eye level, pointing at Kiln Mountain.

I shot Vine a sharp look. “I don’t need friends. I’m doing just fine on my own.” I’d done fine on my own for thousands of years.

The lily pad brought us closer to my little cottage, the bog water lapping gently against the front porch. I’d found this cottage abandoned almost five hundred years ago, and I’d fixed it up and made it habitable. Moss and flowers covered the wooden roof while logs made up the walls. Various types of succulents hung down, making it look earthy and cozy.

Vine snapped like a whip, and I turned to scowl at it.

“I have not been snapping at you more lately.”

Vine nodded.

I crossed my arms. Had I been grumpier than usual the last few months? Perhaps. I glanced down at my amulet, wondering if that might have been the cause of my grumpiness.

Vine pushed my head, turning it so I was staring at the Kiln Mountains.

I threw up my arms, frustrated by this conversation. “You don’t even like Ambrose. Why would you want him to come back?”

Vine jabbed my heart.

I snorted. “I don’t love him.” I wasn’t sure I’d ever loved anyone—except my plants. “But I suppose I liked his company. Either way, I can’t just go out and make new friends. Mortals don’t understand me. They already stare when I come into town.”

I’d made up so many stories over the years to explain away my green skin: I’d gotten the pox as a small child; I’d eaten a magic plant that had turned me green; I’d fallen into the Cragh. I liked that one in particular because it made the townspeople even more wary of coming near my home. No one wanted to risk falling in the green water and turning the same color as me.

Vine just slumped in resignation.

A rumbling filled the air and jolted me from my thoughts, the lily pad trembling under my feet. We were halfway across the channel, getting closer to my cottage, but the lily pad stopped. Ripples spread out from the water in circles, and I stilled, my whole body growing cold with dread.

“What is that?” I asked Vine.

It twisted its body around as if looking for the cause of the noise, just like I was. I shielded my eyes, staring off into the distance, but I didn’t see anything.

“Is it an earthquake?” That wasn’t normal for this area.