“Oh, I’ll do more than watch,” Sefron said, turning to face Evin and look at him with his deadly yellow gaze. “And who said that I am done with you?”

Cackling laughter rose from beneath the table, and Evin jumped back. The Swamp Witch emerged, her green robes stretched taut over her short, plump body, and she reached out at Evin with gnarled hands. Before he could react, her wrinkled lips whispered words of magic and he felt his body go stiff. He could not move.

Beyond the witch, Evin saw Sefron raise his long wand at Jorick and Bet. They, too, went still, though tears still made trails down Bet’s cheeks.

“Gather them, sweetheart,” Sefron said to the Swamp Witch as he lowered his hands behind his back. “It is still many hours before nightfall, and I have much more to do before I am prepared.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

In we go, that’s a good lad.”

The Swamp Witch pushed Evin from behind and he fell to the floor. Bet and Jorick were already inside. She had dragged their paralyzed bodies one by one up the stairs to the floor above, down the long hallway, and into this room. From where he lay on the floor, Evin could see a jagged hole in the white brick ceiling where the chimera had blasted it with his fire breath. Beyond the hole, someone moved, and there came the sound of metal scraping against metal.

“There we go.”

Angling his eyes, Evin saw the Swamp Witch filling up the doorway, hands on her expansive hips. Catching him watching her, she smiled and patted her shock of white hair.

“You know, boy,” she said as she came to his side, “I had a good bit of fun playing your guide at the beginning of the game. The Swamp Witch was my idea. I do so enjoy playing crazy. But I mustn’t have you think I am a mere hag.”

Producing a rope from within the folds of her robe, she set about binding Evin’s hands behind his back. “My true name is Hennea Vudge, and I am Sefron’s wife.” She tugged the rope tight so tight that it bit into his wrists. Putting her lips close to Evin’s ear, she hissed, “And I will have you know that I do not smell swampy.”

That done, the Swamp Witch—Hennea—bound the wrists and feet of Jorick and the still crying Bet before taking their blades and Bet’s wand and satchel. Hennea tossed all of the items in the corner, then retreated to the doorway.

“I will be back in a few hours. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves.” With a wave of her hand, Evin felt the muscles in his legs and arms relax. Then, Hennea slammed the door shut.

For a long moment, no one said anything. Above their heads, the clanking of metal machinery continued.