"There in the north of Darkwoods, the gray earth cuts into the forest itself, and in the south before the sanctuary, the river serves as a natural barrier to the oser." The witch's unblinking eyes fixed on me. She was like a blue-barefoot, peppering the wooden beads with small fingernails. For a moment I saw her facial features grow younger, and so I turned my head slightly to the side to avoid making the connection. The witch giggled at her innocent joke; apparently she had already read my thoughts. Then she turned serious again.
The witch wiped her face with her hand, becoming old and tired again. A wrinkle creased her forehead.
"The castle, in the south. I sent my sisters there, but no one came back. That weakened me even more." She grabbed my hand, peered down and looked at my palm, studying the old scars and calluses from the crossbow. She drew my hand to hers for some reason, almost under my nose, and then let go, losing interest. "I need you to clean it completely. Only then will my children be able to read the ritual on top of it. It should help stop the sulfurization of the southern lands."
"Do you have any black arrows?" I got right to the point.
"Now you're talking!" clapped her hands and beckoned the two girls over. "Better, my dear, better! Here, back-splitting arrows!"
She pulled back the cloth, and I saw the arrows shimmering with secret incantations.
"She'd pulled forty from her stockpile, and it had been a long time since we'd had hunters." The witch's eyes lit up, or maybe it was the fire's glow from the new wood.
"I've never seen one of these before, how do you use them?" I lifted one arrow that shimmered with light.
"Have you seen Kostegrad's arrows?"
"Yes, I have seen them," I agreed.
Kostegrad is a dark city with a grim reputation. Poverty-stricken neighborhoods along the walls, fighting arenas underneath. They say they keep the spite down with the beggars' blood. And as for arrows, yes, they have a special guard that protects the Lord Protector and the Bourgeois.
"Every shot fired by Costegrad's special arrow hits its target. Then the arrow disappears and reappears in the quiver, and so three times," I voiced my knowledge.
"These arrows are better, better! Precious, where do you come from? Their wizards are no match for my skill, I am a descendant of the whisperer-in-the-night. Maybe the last true witch on the continent. My arrows will go back ten times, and then blacken, not disappear like a Milchemist fake," the hag smiled conspiratorially. She looked like a kindly grandmother slipping a sweet candy to her grandson while no one was looking.
"These are very valuable arrows in a case like this. The law…"
"And yes, the law forbids," she interrupted me, raising her hand, "to take more than a gold piece. But you're not forbidden to take equipment more expensive than you need."
I shrugged my shoulders in agreement.
"Then the fee is one gold piece," I folded my arms across my chest in a playfully serious manner.
"What a sneak," she wagged her finger in a kindly manner and smiled.
"My girl, escort this rascal out of my sight, let him rest," the witch said kindly, and then suddenly squeaked her voice like a cutoff." Then you will take him to the castle.
She laughed again, and then she looked at us.
"Come with me, killer of the cold, there's a place where you can rest," the girl beckoned me after her.
