The horses galloped through the desert. I knew we’d reached the half way point when the cracked, sunbaked earth changed from the dried golden brown, fleck with red dust that ran through GloryLand, into the fine, red soot-like sand for which the mountain was named. The dirt clung to everything. It was carried with the wind to our small town where it stuck to buildings and boots. But here, near the Mountain, it was a whole new creation. It was fine as fairy dust and stickier than sugar.

It was said that you could spot a witch from the soot that trailed behind her wherever she went. I didn’t believe this was true, but at the same time, if you lived in this desert, there would be no escaping the clingy dirt.  I remembered the red boot prints on my porch and the sand beneath Jon’s nails. How had I not noticed it before he’d confessed?

It is crazy what you can turn a blind eye too. Especially when it comes to people you care about. They say love is blind, and I guess that is true.

I rode in silence, as did Cheryl. But Tom never shut up. He told one story after the other, of his childhood, of his days as a teenager, and even of what he’d eaten the week. When he began to tell me a story about the terrible gas he’d been having while I was gone, I had to draw the line.

“Tom, can we have a little quiet, please?” I said. “I need to concentrate.” Why would I need to concentrate...wasn’t like I was about to do anything dangerous...Geez.

“Why sure, Sheriff...I only thought you’d want to know that you should avoid the bean pie down at Trudy’s Mess Hall.” He beat his chest with his fist. “Indigestion like no other, I tell you what.”

I shook my head and stole a glance at Cheryl, who was smirking. There was definitely something going on with those two.  I couldn’t believe she was smiling after the story to which Tom had just subjected us. Maybe love is deaf, too.

Cheryl slowed and her mare fell in step next to Tom’s. I looked over my shoulder and caught them. Their eyes were locked on each other like a couple of love sick teenagers. I was only gone a few days...when everything was over and I had Jon back safe and sound (if I didn’t end up dead or worse) then Tom and Cheryl would definitely have some explaining to do.

Thankfully Tom took my request to heart and I was left alone with my thoughts for the remainder of the journey.

We reached the path at the base of the mountain a few hours later. As the moon had risen in the sky, goose flesh danced across my skin. I told myself it was from the dipping temperature and not from fear. I wasn’t very convincing. I’d slid the dagger into the side of my boot, where it burned with a chilling coldness that could only be explained by magic.

Somewhere in the distance a coyote called to her mate, otherwise the desert was silent.

The horses whinnied as the three of us sat and looked at the path. How had Jon felt when he’d come here alone? Dread and heavy fear punctured me to my bones—and I was with two people I trusted with my life. If I were alone, I am pretty sure this is where my journey would end.

“Well. This is it,” I said. I dug my heels into Diana, but she refused to move. I tried again, this time harder, and she reared, pulling her head to the side. “Shhh. It’s okay, girl. I’m nervous, too. But we can do this.” I leaned down and whispered into her main.

Behind me, Cheryl and Tom both had trouble commanding their horses.

“I hate to say it, Alyssa, but I think this is a journey we have to make on foot.” Cheryl slid from her horse and I followed suit.

Tom hesitated. “I don’t know about this Sheriff. These are witches we are talking about. We are just going to walk up there and...what? Shoot everybody?”

“I never said I had a good plan, Tom. Only that I have to do this. If you want you can stay with horses. You both can if you want. But I am doing this.” Without another word, I started the climb up the winding path.

My friends followed me.

***

I’D HEARD THAT WITCHES danced naked in the moonlight. That they sacrificed to the devil and painted their pale skin with the blood of their victims. I’d even heard that the red, sticky dust got its color from centuries of dried blood from fools who’d made the trek to the mountain top. I was prepared for the worst.

What I wasn’t prepared for was what we saw when we reached the end of the mountain path.

We’d climbed in silence—not even Tom spoke. My heart hammered in my chest so loudly I wouldn’t have been able to hear another person’s words anyway. The path ended abruptly and what lay before was...normal.

Three houses—shacks really—made of wood. Smoke from fires burned into gray clouds. No one was outside—no witches walking around. It was eerily quiet, just as you’d expect it to be late night anywhere else.

I’d expected more....more everything. But what I now saw was a quiet, tiny village of small homes. There were no horses or cattle or even gardens. How did they eat? How did they travel?

The knife in my boot began to warm, and I pulled it free, and tucked in the waistband of my trousers, underneath my duster. My skin prickled against its heat and I tried not to think of what that meant. The blade was definitely enchanted.

“What now?” Tom whispered. I could hear relief in his voice and realized that he’d also been expecting more.

“I guess...we find Abiya.”

I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy...