Page 36 of The Nowhere Witch

“Definitely ready for bed.”

* * *

Two sweaters layered under a thick jacket and it was still freezing up here. But this was where I needed to be. There was one thing Hawk had been right about from the beginning, even if I hadn’t wanted to hear it. If I couldn’t figure out how to protect myself, I’d be a sitting duck, waiting to be plucked up or shot, targeted by anyone who wanted to use me or get me out of the way.

The map said Razor Hills was right past this bend. Hopefully my offering would be enough to keep Bautere from killing me before I had a chance to talk to it.

I crept along, trying to be as quiet as I could until I was close enough to call for it, holding out the offering. And if it didn’t want to be young again, or if it was already immortal, at least I’d be running downhill.

I hadn’t walked more than a few more paces when I could feel eyes on me. I slowly took the bottle out of my pocket, in case it was assessing me for a threat, and held it in the air as I turned.

“I’ve brought you an offering,” I said loudly, hoping I wasn’t yelling at squirrels and chipmunks.

There was a low growling noise as some branches and twigs snapped. The gossipers at the bar hadn’t explained what a Bauterewaswhen they were gossiping at the bar. Was it too late to run? Maybe not. Was I going to run? The old Tippi would’ve. That probably meant I should stand my ground.

It went silent again, and I had a feeling that had been my first test. Or my only warning before I was a late dinner.

I didn’t hear it approach. I hadn’t known it was so close until I made another full turn and it was there and I jumped back.

It was fifteen feet tall, standing on its hind legs, a strange cross of a polar bear and a man, with humanlike eyes and a blended body of both.

It growled low and deep as I clenched the bottle tighter, afraid it would slip in my sweat-slicked grasp.

“This is for you.” I knelt, reaching out as close as I dared to place the bottle in the snow.

He walked confidently toward it while I took a few steps back. He uncorked the lid and sniffed.

“A time-reverse potion,” he said, the words flowing through a muzzle that should’ve been made for growling and tearing flesh from bones. He sniffed it again. “It’s potent.” He lifted his muzzle in my direction, taking a deep breath. “It has your magical scent on it.”

I nodded.

He corked the flask again and then eyed me from my shoes to the tip of my hat. “What do you want?” he growled.

“I need to learn how to fight.” This definitely wasn’t a want, with the number of enemies I had and now the three hags on my tail. My life wants had been whittled down to necessity only. If it was something that could wait, it did.

His lip curled back. “I know who you are. You have others who can teach you. There are other options for you that might suit your human fragility better.”

I shook my head. “That’s the thing. I don’t want to be fragile. I can’t afford to be.”

If I wanted to survive, there was no room for softness, no matter the cost.

He dropped down onto all four paws, still a good six or seven feet tall, and circled me.

I stood still, letting him take my measure.

He walked back and stopped in front of me.

“No arguments, you do what I say.”

“Yes.”

“Then so be it.”

He growled and swung a paw in my direction. I slammed into the ground, and I knew Bautere had pulled his swing.

“Get up,” he said.

“We’re starting now?” I asked, wiping the snow from me.