“I’ll drink to that.” she said as they clinked their cups together. “And may our deeds bring us what we deserve.”

  “I’ll very much drink to that.” Ignatius said, delighted by her suggestion. A second clink of the cups later, they upended their vessels. The witch smacked his lips while Hoxley shivered from the strong bitterness running down her throat. The pair took in the rare moment of silence and watched the clouds pass. Ignatius took a long breath. “Morell’s stew smells heavenly.” He noted. “I hope there’s some truth to his claim.”

  “I feel the same way,” said Hoxley “But I have a fear that his hopes may outreach his ability. Strong magic has done this, and I don’t know what could be done to counteract such wickedness. I hope for the best. but I fear we may have to plan for the worst. In the meantime, I see no reason to dampen his enthusiasm or blunt his expectations. It wouldn’t be right to take that hope away from him.”

  “Neither of us can solve this terrible riddle.” The witch said. “I have neither the means or knowledge to begin to understand how all of this has come to pass. We know whom to blame but not what’s been done.”

  “There is another quandary on my mind.” She said. “The dungeon is full of law breakers who may starve to death if we don’t intervene.”

  “What kind of lawbreakers?”

  “Nothing serious, minor thievery. There should be a jailer’s log nearby the cells. That should tell me whether they’re telling the truth about their offenses.”

  “What are your intentions with these lawbreakers?”

  “I don’t want to be foolish or rash, but I’m considering amnesty…in return, they’ll help us feed the afflicted.”

  “Do you think that will work? Hoxley if you let those people out and they commit more crimes, then you’ll be held accountable for their crimes.”

  “I understand that, but we don’t know if there’s going to be a kingdom to punish them if I’m wrong. If we don’t feed them, they’ll die. If we don’t get more help, the people who lay stricken here may die. I want to propose an early release in exchange for service to the crown.”

  “That sounds like a dire gamble, Hoxley.”

  “These are dire times, Ignatius. Am I mad for thinking such a thing?”

  “No, your heart is in the right place. Perhaps kindness can intervene where the solitude of the bars cannot change their ways. How will we keep them in line once they’re out?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it, Ignatius? Once set free, the prisoners may all make a run for the first horizon they see.”

  “Well!” The witch laughed as he put his wide brimmed hat back atop his head. “Then perhaps we just won’t tell anyone who set them free! Ha! After all this confusion, who’s to say they didn’t escape on their own?”

  “Don’t be flippant, Ignatius. I don’t believe that lying would be the right thing to do. The consequences are always more…complicated.”

  “It’s not the best course of action, on that we agree. But not every situation is going to be one we can completely control. Take that pirate of yours for example. I haven’t seen him all day.” Hoxley flashed a grimace of uncomfortableness. “What?” what did I say?”

  “I don’t think Loxo will be rejoining us.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He was being his usual selfish pirate self and I may have erroneously told him to ‘pull his weight or get lost’.”

  “Oh dear.” said Ignatius, setting his cup down. “And you think he’s abandoned us?”

  “I fear it may be true.”

  “Isn’t that something.” The witch snickered “One would think he’d be more grateful to you for your help in getting away from the hangman.”

  “One would think.” She huffed. “But what do you think about the prisoners?”

  “I think you’re right in that we need their help if we’re going to attempt at keeping these people alive a few days longer. It’s a small kingdom but a kingdom, nonetheless. Like you, I don’t feel it would be right to leave them in this state, but you must understand we cannot stay here forever. There are too many mouths to feed and we are too few. What do you intend to do when we no longer have strength and broth? Will you let them die?”

  “I-I… cannot say.” Hoxley said, looking away in shame. “It’s too horrible to think about.”

  “Then perhaps concentrate on something more pleasant.” he said, scooting himself closer to her on the cloth. A long angular finger traced its nail across her shoulder, up her neck and to her jaw where the other fingers turned her by the chin to look at him. When she turned to look at him, she found his deep grey eyes piercing right through her.

  “I could think of one thing.” she said, looking at his lips and back to his eyes.

  “I could think of one hundred.” He replied, leaning closer.

  “I do confess I find it comforting when you’re near.” She whispered.

  “That’s because good things always happen when I’m near to you.” He said, using the long fingers to knead the pink flesh of her ears between them. The massaging motion almost made Hoxley melt in place. Whatever spell he was casting was a potent one as the tension she held in her shoulders and legs vanished as his breath was almost joined with hers. Her cheeks flushed pink and she closed her eyes and waited for the kiss she hoped wouldn’t be far away.

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  “Hoxley, do you want more soup?” he asked.

  “I couldn’t give two horse apples about soup right now, Ignatius. I think you should kiss me.”

  “Perhaps we might want to wait until we don’t have company.”

  “What?! Company?!” Reminded of their last interrupted encounter, Hoxley opened her eyes expecting to find them beset by enemies only to find Morell and Siouxsie standing at the edge of the blanket.

  “Does anyone want more soup?” the boy offered.

  “I think I’ve had more than enough of my fill of soup, Morell.” Hoxley sighed, her cheeks losing their honey glow.

  “Oh. I guess I’ll eat it then.” He said, helping himself to the bowl. “Although I probably shouldn’t eat too much because of the polyphylectics.”

  “The poly-what?” Siouxsie asked.

  “Polyphylectics. At least that’s what I call them. They’re a special breed of mushroom that has strange properties of the mind. I added just a little the brew. The Hericium Erinaceus seem like a good choice to help the people but their effects can sometimes take a long time to take hold. Using the polyphylectics gives the Hericium an added kick.”

  “Morell?” Ignatius asked with some concern. “What are the effects of the polyphylectics?”

  “The results can vary.” The boy said, thinking it over. “Noted side effects are increased awareness and sensitivity to the senses. Hallucinations sometimes occur.”

  “Hallucinations? You’ve drugged us?” Hoxley said with shock.

  “No, no, no,” he said. “Taking the polyphylectics on their own could have some bad effects but I’ve only used a small amount as a supplement to kickstart a reaction in the Hericium. It shouldn’t affect you at all.”

  “Shouldn’t or won’t?” Hoxley said with some anger. Sensing the shift in her tone, Morell began to look worried himself.

  “Ummm…shouldn’t? The effects should be nothing but positive, again, I only used a tiny dose as a catalyst.” It was then that Hoxley began to notice the presence of added light around the edge of her vision. Miniature halos of rainbow light danced in places they had never done so before. Her ears found every nuance of the blades of grass swaying and the birds singing far in the sky. Her own heartbeat could be felt throbbing in the tips of her horns.

  “I do feel…odd.” She said, glancing at her lyythium spear whose tiny traces of white within it appeared as streaks of lightning racing along a pole shaped sky of blue. It was then that Siouxsie began to stare at the fronts and backs of her hands, giggling.

  “I think I feel it too.” She said with a smile. Her laughter filled the air as tiny bands of lightning started crackling and leaping between her fingers. “Ha! Look Ignatius! I’m not even casting! Ha Haaaa!” For the life of her, Hoxley couldn’t tell if any of this was actually happening or whether it was all in her head. She clamped her eyes shut and shook her head. When she opened them, the effects subsided enough for her to think straight.

  “I can’t sit here any longer.” She said, pushing herself up and claiming her spear. “We have work to do. Ignatius, would you accompany me to the prisoner cells?”

  “I…I think a walk would do me some good.” He said, blinking several times. “Help me up.” She held out the end of her spear and when he grabbed it, she pulled him to his feet. “Lead the way.”

  “As for you,” Hoxley said to Morell with an accusatory finger as she passed. “You are not to add anything else to our food without us knowing. I feel like have fairy dust between my ears.”

  “I’ll remember that next time.” He nodded. Hoxley and Ignatius passed through the kitchen to gather up Robert and Prince Damron who were still tending to fires and broth. With the pair in tow to carry “untainted” food, the four descended together into the bowels of the castle. Down, down, down the winding stone stairs they traveled. Ignatius held a burning torch to light their way. When they arrived at the lower levels, the rank reek of feces and urine invaded their nostrils. Faces pressed themselves against the bars to see who’d arrived. Ignatius spoke first with a stark tone to instill a sense of authority:

  “On your feet, everyone!” He said in a loud clear voice. “Everyone up, everyone up to be held accountable! We’ll be passing food through the bars, and everyone will receive an equal portion! There will be no grabbing or shoving! Take your portion and step away for the next person!” Hoxley nodded to Robert and the prince who began doling out the bread and meats and cups of water. Eager hands took the food before shoving it into hungry mouths. Everyone stepped forward save for the large man who remained seated on the floor at the back of the cell. “You in the back, aren’t you hungry?” Ignatius asked but there was no reply. “You.” He got the attention of a whiskered man who’d already inhaled his food. “Take this cup and food and give it to the man in the back.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to eat it?” asked the whiskers.