The Witch stood at the edge of the clearing. Bare feet. Calm eyes. Black hair like night water. She looked at no one but Kael.
"You came later than I expected," she said.
Leonard's hand tightened on his saber. Guards shifted. The adventurers looked between Kael and the woman, uncertain.
Kael didn't bow. He met her gaze and kept his voice even. "You were expecting me?"
"I was expecting him," she said, glancing past him as if seeing a shadow beside his shoulder. "Your bloodline. Your path. You carry the scent of an old promise."
Leonard stepped forward a pace. "Witch of the Blackroot—"
"Stop," she said softly. Not loud. Not harsh. But the single word pressed the air down like a palm over water.
Leonard did stop. His jaw worked once. A guard to his left swallowed hard and looked at his boots.
The Witch looked at Kael again. "Come. You, and the woman with the silver collar. The rest stay here."
Seris moved without a word. Kael glanced at Leonard once.
