“Gels get rid of infection the same way they can clean a cyclops’ home.” Smiled the witch. “It’s just their way of making things better. There we go. I think it’s clean. Now, let’s add a remedy.” She went to work fishing out items from her pockets. Nimble fingers crushed and pinched various leaves and herbs until they congealed into a purple wad of gum-like substance not too different from the inner contents of a gumfruit. The same fingers then went to work kneading tiny bits of the gum into the skin. “There.” She finally said with some satisfaction. “Now open your mouth.” Without hesitating, Hoxley complied and Siouxsie slipped a small twig of something in it.

  “What’s this?” she asked. “Is this sarsaparilla?”

  “Yes, a bit of sarsaparilla as a reward for being an ever so patient patient.”

  “Where did you get sarsaparilla?” asked Hoxley as she began to suck on the stick.

  “From Ignatius, of course. He asked me to give you some while he was away.” Siouxsie smiled at her. “I believe he fancies you to be quite comely. There are quite a few witches who would make fools of themselves to get his attention if even for a short while.”

  “I’ve no desire to be a fool for anyone.”

  “And that’s why he gives only you sarsaparilla. The remedy I’ve put over your cut should help with the healing. I can’t guarantee there won’t be a scar, but if there is, it won’t be a big one.”

  “Thank you, Siouxsie.”

  “How far to Oldvale?” she asked.

  “Not far at all.” Hoxley answered. “Not far at all but I’m unfamiliar with this place and I don’t want to wander into places where I can’t see far enough in front of me. If Lord Baltus has a way of tracking the prince, then at least we know by staying hidden it takes longer for him to find us.” Hoxley pushed herself up to her hooves and took up her spear. “When everyone is done, extinguish pumpkin and get some rest. I’ll take first watch.” The others did as they were told, and blankets were unfolded from packs. Siouxsie and Robert were comfy in their cocoon which sat suspended between the two rocks so they offered their blankets to Loxo and Atticus which were graciously received. And just like the freezing night on Faustacon Mountain, the party members huddled together for warmth, most cozying up to the old soldier who didn’t seem to mind one bit.

  Hoxley stood on the edge of the group, blanket draped about her shoulders. Somehow though the cyclops ingenuity it continued to radiate a small bit of warmth to stave off the evening’s chill. One hand held it close and tight from within while the other rested upon the weapon leaning against her shoulder. The warmth of the blanket soothed her cheek and she found her thoughts drifting away to create forms resembling the silver haired witch. Swaying limbs full of leaves created their own mirage of a dark cloaked figure topped with a pointed hat. Fantasy took her and she pictured herself walking side by side with Ignatius, his hand in hers. There was pleasant conversation about seasons and his knowledge of arcane witchery. In her mind she fashioned something joyous to be found in Ignatius company, a word or gesture made just for her for no reason other than her pleasure or enjoyment. She imagined a scene; a brilliant autumn when the leaves had turned and appeared as fire on the limbs of the trees. Ignatius stood strong and proud in a field of his own tending. His shirtless back arched and twisted to harvest the bountiful crop of a homestead. She herself stood leaning against the threshold of a home they’d built with their bare hands watching him. Her spear lay long unused atop a mantle framing a roaring hearth. On the chill of the coming winter wind there were no sounds of war, but the fluttering of black cloaks heralding the arrival of smiling relatives bearing pumpkin bread and cheerful greetings. For that moment there was a silent serenity made of feelings she could not put into words. It was a welcome illusion she longed for. But then, just as fast as it had materialized, a songbird sang out in the distance and her dream slipped away into a dark night, taking the images of comfort with it to leave her standing guard in the wilderness. She tried to crush her eyes shut and concentrate to bring them back, but it was too late. The sweet spell of her desire was broken.

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  Deep down she wondered if such a thing could be hers after Prince Damron got his kingdom back. She hoped it could be true that a day would come when dawn didn’t come with expectations of desperate plans, swords and shouting. Could such a fantasy be hers? She deemed it possible and set her will upon it.

  “My fate will be whatever I put my hands to.” She said to herself. “I will not be denied.”

  “Those are promising words.” Said an unexpected voice to her rear. Started, Hoxley’s head spun about to find the prince stepping up from behind with his blanket about him.

  “Your highness.” She huffed with relief. “Why are you awake?”

  “To take the next watch.” He said. “Look at the moon, you’ve been up half the night.” She did look and found his words to be true. “Get your rest.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s been a long day…”

  “Just as long for you and you carried Morell. I know what you’ve taught me.” He coaxed her. “Go.”

  “I suppose I could get a little sleep.” She said rubbing one eye. “Don’t hesitate to wake me if you become suspicious of anything.”

  “I won’t.” he nodded. Hoxley placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as she passed.

  “Good night, Prince Damron.” She said.

  “Good night, Hoxley.”

  “A dreamless sleep followed, but when dawn came, Hoxley awoke to find Morell seated upon a rock next to the closest tree and watching the horizon. Others stirred, each one moving slowly and cautiously as not to wake the ones who hadn’t roused. Atticus excused himself to the tree line while Loxo snored and drooled. The cocoon expanded and retracted with the snoozings of the twins. Hoxley gathered and secured her things. She tried to give others a chance to get as much sleep as possible but once her saddlebags were in order, she woke them with gentle nudges.

  “Awake. It’s dawn. Gather your belongings.” She said before moving onto the next. Once the party was ready to go, they broke from the cover of the rocks and started out. More tedious hills and ridges awaited them. More steep inclines and treacherous downgrades that threatened to toss them end over end. By midday, the terrain eased and gave way to a long-slanted plateau. As they hesitated upon the edge of the tree line to make one last glance for the sign of scouts, Siouxsie stepped forward to scan the horizon for herself.

  “I know where we are.” She said with a growing smile. “I know where we are!”

  “Do you?” asked Hoxley.

  “I do! This is the long western field outside Oldvale. It looks different from the ground, but the old temple is in that direction.” she said, pointing her joined fingers like an arrow. Ignatius should be nearby.” She reached down her shirt and pulled out the chain with the witchle upon it before playing a simple peppy tune upon it. Everyone in the party looked to the left and right awaiting the brother to magically appear. It was Morell who saw him first.

  “There!” He pointed high in the distance. “There he is!” They looked and he was correct. A small dark speck flashed across the sky drawing closer and closer. It had all but vanished against the overhanging foliage when Ignatius appeared, dropping straight down out of the sky to stop only a foot from the ground. The torrent of wind that followed almost “whooshed” the companions from their feet. When it subsided, the witches face was a huge smile as he looked about the group to take count.

  “You’re here.” He grinned. “No trouble I take it?”

  “They managed to follow us still.” Answered Hoxley which quickly erased his enthusiasm. “Whether it was luck or good tracking or whether there is some means to track the prince, the scouts were never far behind.”

  “So, taking the crown away meant nothing?” he asked, his expression becoming one of shock and astonishment “It didn’t keep you any further from danger and I abandoned you?”

  “Don’t trouble yourself.” Hoxley offered. “There was no way to know if the plan would make sense. At the time, the logic made sense. We managed on our own and now we’re here. Where have you stayed?”

  “In the temple, as I thought I might.”

  “And you still have my crown?” asked the prince.