“Your magic wore off. Make me bigger and stronger!” Nash snarled, baring his teeth.

Mikaela put her hands on the ogre’s arm. “Be calm, friend ogre.”

“Everyone laughs at me. I’m too small.”

“Can you offer payment?”

The ogre overturned his satchel. Twisted toadstools, a limp rabbit, bloody clumps of less identifiable animals and a few rocks skittered across the stone table.

The witch closed her eyes and let her fingers wander through the detritus, briefly touching each item. When she opened her eyes she sought out three of the rocks. “I claim these as payment. Go bathe in the part of the river touched by the light of the moon. In the morning your wish will be granted and last for as long as you believe.”

After the Ogre had left, Mikaela’s familiar padded out of the room and nodded toward the front door. “Aren’t you ever going to tell him the truth?”

The witch shook her head sadly. “He doesn’t come all the way up here for the truth. He’s here for a pretty lie. Thankfully pretty lies are my specialty.”