Our camp for our second, and hopefully uneventful, night in the Dark Forest was situated on a cliff overlooking the forest below. We’d walked for the remainder of the day, none of us speaking as Jared led us further and further into the forest and away from the witch’s house.
I’d looked back at it only once, noticing the toppled stones covered in moss and ivy. It was not the grand house I’d seen upon my arrival. The garden had been overgrown and littered with fallen leaves, not flowers and fruit trees.
Brandt told me I’d been bewitched, which seemed a reasonable explanation for the events that led me to the house and my stupor in the hours that followed. I could still taste the metallic remnants of whatever magic she’d used on me as the day passed in a blur of trees and darkness.