Page 46 of Heart of the Summer Queen

I dearly hope it hasn’t.

The bridge disappears, and it isn’t much longer before the river’s thundering fades. An amber glow washes over the woods as the sun wanes, making the leaves look as if they’re aflame.

We walk for several hours more before our path steepens, and then we begin to ascend a hill.

“We’re nearly there,” Elaric says. “Belinda lives atop this hill.”

This knowledge fuels my weary legs, numbing the ache which consumes them.

We break through the trees, and step out beneath a darkening sky. The moon is already visible through the powdery clouds—a wispy crescent.

A sea of leaves surrounds us, all the treetops now beneath. I stop and scan around, but everywhere I look, there’s no end to the trees. Nor does any other hill protrude from the woods, making this the highest point. No wonder Belinda made her home up here.

Though I thought we were near the top, it takes another half hour for the terrain to level out. By now, the stars are twinkling against the dark canvas of night.

A vile stench fills my nostrils. The closest smell I can compare it to is rotting eggs.

When we reach the apex of the hill, the smell becomes more intense, and a green glow emerges from the darkness. We stop at the edge of a chasm, and I peer down.

Bright green slime lies beneath, bubbling and frothing. A sudden explosion reaches higher than the rest, and I jolt back.

“It’s corrosive enough to dissolve steel instantly,” Elaric warns, pulling me farther away.

I flinch, imagining what the substance might do to flesh and bone.

Amid the green glow, a cottage-sized toadstool sits several dozen yards away. Its cap is red with black spots, rather like a ladybug, and its dark stalk has the texture of bark.

Small windows are cut into the stalk, faint light flickering through them. Between the strange cottage and corrosiveswamp, there’s no denying that this is the home of an immensely powerful witch.

Despite having arrived at our destination, there’s one glaringly obvious problem: We have no way across. Elaric can’t use his magic in Belinda’s domain, so conjuring a bridge is out of the question. Nor can we swim through the deadly swamp. Since the slime is likely imbued with the witch’s magic, Elaric would also be instantly dissolved.

The only other idea I can think of is chopping down a tree and dragging it here to use as a bridge. But I doubt we’d haul a large enough tree up the hill, and even if we succeeded, crossing the swamp would be far more perilous than crossing the river this morning.

I turn to Elaric. “So, what do we do now?”

To my dismay, he simply says, “We’ll have to wait for Belinda to let us in.”

“Will she know we’re here? It isn’t as if we can go to her door and knock.”

Elaric nods. “She should be able to hear us from here.”

“From this distance? Over that?” I point at the slime churning restlessly below.

“Her magic connects to every tree and blade of grass,” Elaric says. “She will be able to hear us through them.”

I look down at the grass. It’s sparse in places, drowning in mud. With the nearest trees now a fair distance from us, I’m uncertain whether the witch will really be able to hear. “How far does her magic reach?”

“The entire woods,” Elaric says.

His reply makes my skin crawl. How powerful this witch must be for her magic to reach so far. Though I’ve always considered Elaric’s magic to be terrifying, now I realize it pales compared to a witch’s. It certainly explains how Belinda’s wards can neutralize his magic so easily.

“Then she’s known that we are here all along?” I whisper.

“There can be little doubt of that after we triggered those gloomshrooms.”

No wonder Elaric was so wary of speaking ill of her earlier. From the second we set foot inside her woods, we’ve surrendered ourselves to her mercy. If she attacks us, there’s little we can do to defend ourselves. Considering how useless steel was against Elaric, it’s unlikely my dagger would be able to even touch a witch.

My throat dries. “We just have to stand here and wait until she lets us in?”

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