The Witch's Reward by Liz McCraine Read Free Book Online

“And so you’d better.” He waved to an empty chair. “Have a seat. The fate of the kingdom may depend on how well you heed my advice.”
     

Chapter 4
    “Thank you,” Larra said in a quiet voice as Elane handed her a bowl of food. As was the habit these days, Elane didn’t respond.
    It had been two weeks since the incident with the lumbar, and as per the order of the village magistrate, Larra had been confined to the cottage until instructions were received from the palace. She knew a messenger had been sent to the king, notifying him of her existence.
    Since there had never before been a witch in Farr, the village leaders were anxious to know what to do. Though they had known Larra since she was a baby, she was now considered not only different, but possibly dangerous. Few people had dropped by the cottage to visit since Larra’s magic was discovered. It was as if they feared even the sight of her. In addition, the leaders had assigned men to guard the entrances to the cottage at all times, ensuring that Larra would not escape—not that she tried. Even worse, she hadn’t seen nor heard from Kiera or Jess, and that hurt most of all.
    She was shocked at the transformation that had happened to her and was still uncertain as to why or how it had occurred. In the quiet of her room at night, she played with her new power, bumping her elbow and then healing the bruise, or healing scratches that she picked up accidently during the day. If she focused on the injury with absolute concentration and then touched the injury with her fingers, the power seemed to flow smoothly from her, healing whatever was hurt. She also found that if she did not focus on the injury, but merely just touched it, nothing would happen. It seemed she had to will the magic to work; it was not an automatic response. 
    One day, Larra had used her power to heal a particularly nasty cut on her grandmother’s finger. Elane had been chopping vegetables and the knife slipped, slicing her finger deeply. It was the first time Elane had seen Larra’s ability, and it caused the atmosphere around the cottage to become as cold and distant as the glaciers on the mountains. Since the lumbar incident, Elane had been abnormally quiet. But after Larra healed her wound, she stopped speaking altogether.  
    She wished she could talk to her grandmother about the magic. She had tried countless times to start a conversation, but her grandmother continued to be unresponsive. It was as if by ignoring Larra’s presence, she could make the whole, horrible situation disappear. If it weren’t for the occasional hug, or stroke of her hair, Larra would wonder if her grandmother even loved her anymore. Elane simply seemed to have disappeared within herself, turning silent and unresponsive.
    Larra wondered what would become of her. Were the laws of the kingdom regarding witches as harsh as she had heard—death by fire? And how had Larra even become a witch? It wasn’t as if she had touched a fairy, or wished for it like Kiera did. The whole thing was a mess.  A dirty, jumbled, incredible mess. 
    Larra stared into her bowl, watching steam rise from the boiled wheat and honey mixture. As with most meals in the last couple of weeks, Larra found herself without appetite. She felt sad, dejected, and confused, and now more than anything she felt frustrated. Frustrated at her grandmother’s silence, frustrated at not having answers, frustrated at not knowing what was to become of her.
    She scowled, the frustration working itself into a tight ball that threatened to explode if it didn’t find release. With a sudden, uncharacteristic display of temper, she shoved back her chair, the wooden legs scraping against the stone floor. Leaning forward, she slammed both hands on the kitchen table to either side of her breakfast.
    “Enough!” she shouted. She looked up to see that her grandmother had turned from her work to stare at Larra in shock, her hands paused midair above her