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Description

    Yulisa paced down the hall for what felt like the thousandth time. She eyed the door, but passed it again. She reached the end of the hall and turned back around, the skirt of her dress flowing around her legs. She needed to go into the study. It was the right thing to do.
    Word had passed throughout the castle that a tiny person--a borrower--had been caught stealing food the night before. One of the nicer kitchen boys, Zell, was eager to pass Yulisa the whole story. The little thing moved fast, he said, but they caught him. He was wounded from his escape attempt, but not fatally. Borrowers hadn’t been spotted on castle grounds for years, though there were plenty in the wild beyond the walls. At least, that was what Yulisa was told. She rarely left castle grounds and had no experience of it herself.
    What she knew was that the little person was to be sold in some land where borrowers were rarer and considered unusual trinkets rather than vermin. She couldn’t decide which was worse. She certainly wouldn’t put it past Lord Wichink to sell the borrower. His children wouldn’t put up a fuss either, not when their household would become a little bit richer after the borrower was sold.
    Instead of thinking hard about what she needed to do, Yulisa finally came to a stop in front of the door and pushed it open. It was unlocked, she realized with relief. Only a fool would cross the lord of the castle. Yulisa knew she was especially viewed as a meek, obedient fool of a witch girl, though she was well into her seventeenth year. No one would suspect her of freeing the little borrower, not even with the lord and lady gone for the day.
    Holding her breath, she crept inside and closed the door behind her. The room wasn’t very big, but there were plenty of spaces to imprison a tiny person. A couple of bookshelves and a line of desks stood against the walls, and an empty table surrounded by chairs stood at the center.
    “Hello?” Yulisa called out tentatively.
    There was no answer.
    She was uncertain of how reliable Zell’s information was, but he claimed the borrower had been taken into the study in the north tower. Even if he was wrong, she hadn’t the slightest idea of where else to look. After a glance around the room, she found that the most obvious place the borrower could be hidden was in one of the desks. Taking slow steps towards the nearest, she tried calling against softly.
    “Hello? If you’re there, you can tell me. I don’t mean any harm. Please. I only want to help you.”
    Again, there was no answer.
    Yulisa’s heart sank to her feet. Either the kitchen boy was wrong, or the borrower simply didn’t want to say anything. Although she felt horribly selfish for thinking it, she had been very much looking forward to seeing a borrower for the first time. Her days were dull. She may have lived in the castle, but she wasn’t part of the family. She was an outsider, a freak. But at least she had a roof over her head, three meals a day, and wasn’t about to sold.
    The thought of leaving the tiny person to it’s fate spurred her to try one last time, a little louder but no less earnest.
    “You’re probably frightened. I understand, but I can free you. Please--”
    She stopped short and bit back a gasp, listening intently. A voice. She was sure there was a tiny voice coming from one of the desks. Hurrying over with quiet footsteps, she listened closely. The voice was too small and muddled to make out any specific words, and it fell silent as quickly as it had reached her ears.
    Eager to see if she was right, Yulisa pulled out the top drawer of the desk, sliding it with a careful hand. She didn’t want to jostle the poor thing if he really was injured. “Are you in here? Keep talking, please.”
    There was no answer this time. The drawer was cluttered with quills and half-empty bottles of ink. In the corner, however, Yulisa spied a small wooden box with a latched lid. It seemed out of place. Frowning, she leaned down and closed both hands around the box to slide it better into view, pushing aside quills and bottled. Her heart just about leaped to her throat when she felt something move within the box.
    Her fingers trembled slightly as she grabbed the latch and flipped it up. The movement in the box ceased. She held her breath and opened the lid. A gasp rushed through her before she could stop it, effectively startling the tiny person huddled in the corner of the box. Yulisa pulled her face away, eyes never leaving the borrower. He was young, but easily had at least two years on her.
    “H-Hello...” Yulisa’s voice was so soft, she scarcely heard it herself.
    The tiny golden-haired borrower didn’t speak, didn’t move. He stayed huddled where he was, wide eyes pointed right up her. Yulisa felt a chill run through her. She accustomed to that kind of stare from most people in the castle, like she was a monster preparing to strike. For the first time, she could understand why someone would look at her like that. He was so tiny, she couldn’t blame him for being terrified.
    She saw blood coating his shoulder and upper arm and seeping through the fabric of his sleeve. It looked dry, but her insides still squirmed in fear. She needed to help him. Pulling her hands away from the sides of the box, she hesitated. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. The expression on his face was so vivid, just like any other normal person: fear of her, uncertainty about what was going to happen to him, regret for calling out.
    How could she possibly hope to get her hands on the borrower without throwing him into a panic? She thought about taking the box altogether, but if it was missing from the desk, Lord Wichink would noticed immediately. Her best chance was to leave the empty box there and make him think the borrower was still trapped within for as long as possible. Which meant she had to pick up the borrower, one way or another.
    “I-It’s alright,” Yulisa said softly, holding her hand out for the borrower to climb on. He only flinched away and threw his arms up in defense, finally turning his terrified gaze away
    Rather than reach in a scoop him out, she grabbed the side of the box and lifted it closer. The little borrower swayed, almost falling away from his corner, but he firmly scooted himself back. She could see his chest moving with shallow breaths. Feeling positively awful, Yulisa held her free hand out and tilted the box toward it. The borrower struggled to hold his spot valiantly, but no amount of scrambling away could stop him from falling directly onto her palm.
    Terror ran through her all at once. She was holding a person. She felt like even the slightest movement could hurt him. Pursing her lips, she busied herself by putting the box back into the corner of the drawer and latching it shut. Her fingers curled a bit around the trembling little person in her hand as she slid the drawer back into its proper place.
    Praying there would be plenty of time before the borrower’s absence was noticed, Yulisa looked down at him in her palm. He had his head down, tiny fingers clutching his blond hair as he sat there motionlessly. His wound seemed redder than ever out of the shadow of the desk.
    Cupping her other hand close to hide him, Yulisa left the study.
    The walk back to the southeast tower felt miles and miles longer than it really was. Yulisa wanted to return to her quarters as soon as possible, but she took the longer route so that it wouldn’t appear she came from the direction of the north tower. Anyone would be quick to blame her once the the borrower was discovered missing if they were even the tiniest bit suspicious that she had been near the north tower.
    Although she tried to look passive and keep an eye out for anyone watching her, Yulisa couldn’t focus all of her attention from the tiny person hidden away in the pouch at her belt. She kept a smooth gait to not jostle him, but she couldn’t help but touch the outside of the pouch every minute or so to reassure him. The borrower was trembling at the bottom, but he had made no attempt to climb out. She felt awful for the poor thing, and it gave her all the more reason to get to her greenhouse swiftly.
    After what felt like an eternity, the southeast tower was well within her path with her greenhouse just beyond it. She brushed the outside of her pouch gently. There was no change.
    Movement appeared in the corner of her eye, a figure standing near the stables. “Witch bitch!”
    The voice alone made Yulisa stop in her tracks. She turned her head, already knowing who she would see. Gregor was perhaps her least favorite guard. Certainly the most openly hostile towards her. She swallowed hard and tried to move on towards the tower before he could bother her further, but his voice cut through the air like a sword again.
    “Don’t you know it’s impolite to ignore someone who’s talking to you?”
    Yulisa paused again, but didn’t turn. She could hear his heavy footsteps drawings towards her. Her fingers clutched at the sides of her dress skirt and she kept her eyes down. Gregor was unpredictable. Sometimes answering was best, and sometimes it was rewarded with a shove to the ground. Before she could decide what sort of response he wanted, he was at her side.
    “Tell me, what’s the little witch doing outside of her swamp?”
    She felt her throat close up, but she turned and glanced at him, over a head taller than her. “Breakfast, sir.”
    He scoffed. “A bit early for you. You only slink in there once everybody’s gone.” He stepped closer and leaned down to look her in the face.
    It took everything she had not to place a protective hand over the pouch. She could feel the borrower trembling without even needing her fingers on the outside of the fabric, and she was nearing the point of quaking as well. She should have come up with a better excuse, but it was too late. It wasn’t as if she left her greenhouse for much more than meals.
    “I have much work to do today, sir,” she said in a quavering voice. “The hyssop needs to be picked and dried, and the nettle is ready to be boiled for--”
    “One of these days you’ll poison us all, won’t you?” he interrupted with a sneer, stepping back. “Why my lord keeps you around, I’ll never understand. Not every castle needs a resident witch bitch conjuring up demons and cursing the place.”
    Yulisa felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. “I-I would never--”
    “Go. I suppose you think you can get me into trouble by distracting me from my duties, don’t you, girl?”
    She opened her mouth to protest, but the opportunity to leave was far sweeter than starting an argument. After all, it would be a lie to say that she never once thought about poisoning a guard or two to make her life a little easier. If she were to be truthful, the only thing that held her back was the knowledge that rumors spread about her if anyone in the castle so much as fell ill. A poisoned cup of wine would be traced right back to her.
    Gregor said no more as she continued her walk toward the greenhouse. She reached it without further incident, pushing the door open. Herbs lined rows of tables and hung from the ceiling. It was a sight she was proud of. Asking Lord Wichink for the proper books and seeds had been a harder task than growing them. The plants thrived under her care. Her only worry was not having enough room for everything she wanted.
    For once, Yulisa didn’t pause to check on any of the plants. Instead, she made a beeline for the trap door at the other end of the greenhouse. She pulled it open and descended into the dark stairwell, the confrontation with the guard already far from her mind.
    The stairs winded straight downwards in a spiral. She closed the trapdoor overhead, but the path wasn’t bathed in the darkness. Vines winded along the stair rails, glowing ethereal green and casting sufficient light all the way down. Yulisa descended carefully, mindful of the passenger in her pouch. She supposed she could let him out and hold him the rest of the way, but she held back. He had trembled more in her grasp than in the pouch.
    A short tunnel greeted her at the bottom of the wooden stairs. The glowing vines snaked along the walls and ceiling, leading off into two other pathways. Finding herself more at ease in her cool, earth-packed surroundings, she took took a left turn into her work room.
    The vines in the room bunched into bundles on the ceiling, hanging like earthen chandeliers, providing brighter light for her to work under. Three tables cluttered with books and notes and equipment stood against the walls, along with shelves overflowing with glass bottles, jars, and more books. The bottles and jars were stuffed with dried herbs and failed attempts at potions she still tinkered with for improvement.
    At least putting together a simple remedy for external wounds wasn’t tough, and she had done just that the night before while she was contemplating a plan to rescue the borrower from the study.
    Making her way to the least cluttered table and clearing a larger spot, she hesitantly reached for the flap of the pouch. “I’m… I’m going to get you out now,” she announced.
    Sliding one hand into the leather fabric, she gingerly felt around for the borrower. It didn’t surprise her when he forced himself to the far side, pushing back like he wanted to disappear right through the other side. Guilt tore at her heart as she wedged her fingers behind him to pry him away. Her empty stomach churned when she closed her fingers. The borrower wriggled around for a second before going completely still. She worried for a moment that he had fainted, but as she brought him into the light, she found he was very much awake.
    “It’s alright.” Yulisa’s murmur did no good. Even when she cupped both hands around him instead of holding him in a fist, he shook and kept his arms over his golden-haired head.
    Without another word, she lowered the little borrower onto the spot she had cleared on the wooden table. Everything--the books, the bottles, the heating and freezing stands--dwarfed him. He finally lifted his gaze from where he sat, locking eyes with her for only a second before hurriedly looking back down. She couldn’t blame him. He didn’t need to look at her like that to make her feel like a lumbering giant. Every movement around him felt like it would only strike more fear.
    Moving as softly as possible, Yulisa stepped over to an adjacent table. A curved stone smaller than her hand was positioned above a freezing flame, a miniscule amount of thick orange substance pooled at the bottom of the curve. The stone chilled her fingers when she pulled it off the blue flame, like she held a block of ice. Hopefully human remedies worked just as well on borrowers. After all, he didn’t look so different other than the size.
    When Yulisa looked back to the table, the borrower wasn’t seated at the spot she’d left him. He was on his knees near the extreme edge of the table, looking down like he contemplated the height to the floor. Alarmed, she lunged for the table, setting the stone down in a swift motion and cupping her hands a few inches below the edge of the table. Her sudden motion elicited a shout of surprise from the borrower and a desperate scrambled backwards. With nowhere else to run, he stopped with his pack pressed against a rounded bottle of dried alcea.
    “I’m sorry.” Yulisa dropped her hands, still shaken. “I-I thought you were going to jump. I’m sorry for scaring you, really--I’m only trying to help you. I have some salve for your shoulder--”
    “I don’t want y-your help!” the borrower snapped in a quavering voice. “You’re a witch, aren’t you?”
    Yulisa felt her insides crumple. “A mystic,” she corrected softly, not daring to budge an inch while his horrified gaze was focused on her. “W-Witch is a terribly rude thing to call--”
    “I don’t care what you’re called!” His tone was surprisingly vicious, not unlike others who looked upon her scornfully. His shoulders rose and fell, but she could see his injured one moving more twitchily. He grabbed it and looked down, helplessness written all over his tiny face. “I-I won’t be your... experiment, or plaything for magic. I won’t!”
    She inched forward tentatively, but he didn’t look up. “Your shoulder is bleeding again, isn’t it?” The only answer she received was a searing glance. “I’m not going to experiment on you! I only brought you here to help. You’re not my prisoner, please believe me.”
    The borrower didn’t look up. Yulisa cautiously closed the distance between herself and the table, pulling a chair around the side and seating herself before him. She felt a shiver run down her spine. He was so small, made even smaller by the way he was cowering and pushing himself away. She never took her eyes off him as she reached aside to grab the cold stone.
    “This salve only works while it’s still fresh from the chill,” she told him gently. “You’ll recover faster than you can imagine, and the pain will go away almost immediately. It’s the best I have. Wasting it would be foolish.”
    “No,” he said simply, finally turning his eyes back up towards her, though they flicked to her hands ever other second, as if they were going to lunge at him.
    “I’ve used it on myself before.” She gave him an earnest look, her fingertips haltingly inching towards the thick substance atop the stone.
    “Where are we? I’ve never seen this room before.”
    Yulisa blinked, surprised by the change of subject. She supposed the earthen walls and glowing vines would be a curious sight to just about anyone. “Under the greenhouse,” she answered. “Still on castle grounds, but no one comes here except me.”
    He clenched his jaw. “Why is that?”
    “Well, it’s… These are my quarters,” she explained. “I may be the resident witch of the castle, but that doesn’t mean I get very many visitors. I’m sure most think that I have the places rigged with curses.” She noticed how the tiny man paled a few shades. “But I don’t, I assure you.”
    “And that,” he said, jutting his chin towards the cold stone. “How do I know that isn’t a curse, or… or some sort of experimental substance that you’ve been waiting to test on someone you wouldn’t get in trouble for hurting.”
    Yulisa sat back in her chair, releasing a sigh of exasperation. She thought long and hard about how to prove her trustworthiness. It seemed hopeless, with the way the little person was cowering away from her, still staring like she was a monstrous giant who meant him harm. She considered simply grabbing him and rubbing the salve onto his injury. It wasn’t as if he would be able to do anything about it. And in the end, his injury would be healed and he would believe her. As she flexed her fingers on her lap, she felt sick to her stomach.
    Leaning forward, she elicited a gasp of fright from the borrower. He stood completely still as she lifted her hand from her lap, but she didn’t make a grab for him. She reached past him and took a scalpel she used for slicing plants. Pursing her lips, she pulled the blade against her index fingertip, drawing a bead of blood. She winced and set the scalpel aside.
    “Wh-What are you doing?” the borrower demanded, looking more confused than ever.
    She offered him a small smile. “Proving it.”
    With her uncut hand, Yulisa took a smear of the salve from the stone and rubbed it onto her fingertip. She held it out for the tiny person to see, but she wasn’t surprised when he pushed himself harder against the flask. A curious frown was on his face, however, instead of intense fear. Right before his eyes, the salve melted into her skin and healed the cut, hardly leaving a trace that skin had been broken at all.
    After she pulled her hand away, she fixed him with an earnest look. “See? Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise. And once you’re healed, you’re free to go. I’ll take you back to the castle so you can return to wherever it is you live--or even outside the gates to make sure you’re not caught again, if that’s what you want.”
    The tiny man was silent, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, Yulisa was sure that he would still refuse--that there was no way he could trust a witch to heal his injury, let alone release him when it was over. Her heart sank like a stone in water when he averted his gaze from her and squeezed his eyes shut. She wasn’t sure what to do anymore. She already had proven her willingness to hurt herself for his trust.
    Yulisa stifled a gasp when the borrower moved. She thought he was making a desperate run for it, but no… He was moving closer to the edge of the table. Closer to her. He wouldn’t look at her, but that didn’t matter--a relieved smile spread across her face when he turned his injured shoulder towards her to heal.

Description

    Yulisa paced down the hall for what felt like the thousandth time. She eyed the door, but passed it again. She reached the end of the hall and turned back around, the skirt of her dress flowing around her legs. She needed to go into the study. It was the right thing to do.
    Word had passed throughout the castle that a tiny person--a borrower--had been caught stealing food the night before. One of the nicer kitchen boys, Zell, was eager to pass Yulisa the whole story. The little thing moved fast, he said, but they caught him. He was wounded from his escape attempt, but not fatally. Borrowers hadn’t been spotted on castle grounds for years, though there were plenty in the wild beyond the walls. At least, that was what Yulisa was told. She rarely left castle grounds and had no experience of it herself.
    What she knew was that the little person was to be sold in some land where borrowers were rarer and considered unusual trinkets rather than vermin. She couldn’t decide which was worse. She certainly wouldn’t put it past Lord Wichink to sell the borrower. His children wouldn’t put up a fuss either, not when their household would become a little bit richer after the borrower was sold.
    Instead of thinking hard about what she needed to do, Yulisa finally came to a stop in front of the door and pushed it open. It was unlocked, she realized with relief. Only a fool would cross the lord of the castle. Yulisa knew she was especially viewed as a meek, obedient fool of a witch girl, though she was well into her seventeenth year. No one would suspect her of freeing the little borrower, not even with the lord and lady gone for the day.
    Holding her breath, she crept inside and closed the door behind her. The room wasn’t very big, but there were plenty of spaces to imprison a tiny person. A couple of bookshelves and a line of desks stood against the walls, and an empty table surrounded by chairs stood at the center.
    “Hello?” Yulisa called out tentatively.
    There was no answer.
    She was uncertain of how reliable Zell’s information was, but he claimed the borrower had been taken into the study in the north tower. Even if he was wrong, she hadn’t the slightest idea of where else to look. After a glance around the room, she found that the most obvious place the borrower could be hidden was in one of the desks. Taking slow steps towards the nearest, she tried calling against softly.
    “Hello? If you’re there, you can tell me. I don’t mean any harm. Please. I only want to help you.”
    Again, there was no answer.
    Yulisa’s heart sank to her feet. Either the kitchen boy was wrong, or the borrower simply didn’t want to say anything. Although she felt horribly selfish for thinking it, she had been very much looking forward to seeing a borrower for the first time. Her days were dull. She may have lived in the castle, but she wasn’t part of the family. She was an outsider, a freak. But at least she had a roof over her head, three meals a day, and wasn’t about to sold.
    The thought of leaving the tiny person to it’s fate spurred her to try one last time, a little louder but no less earnest.
    “You’re probably frightened. I understand, but I can free you. Please--”
    She stopped short and bit back a gasp, listening intently. A voice. She was sure there was a tiny voice coming from one of the desks. Hurrying over with quiet footsteps, she listened closely. The voice was too small and muddled to make out any specific words, and it fell silent as quickly as it had reached her ears.
    Eager to see if she was right, Yulisa pulled out the top drawer of the desk, sliding it with a careful hand. She didn’t want to jostle the poor thing if he really was injured. “Are you in here? Keep talking, please.”
    There was no answer this time. The drawer was cluttered with quills and half-empty bottles of ink. In the corner, however, Yulisa spied a small wooden box with a latched lid. It seemed out of place. Frowning, she leaned down and closed both hands around the box to slide it better into view, pushing aside quills and bottled. Her heart just about leaped to her throat when she felt something move within the box.
    Her fingers trembled slightly as she grabbed the latch and flipped it up. The movement in the box ceased. She held her breath and opened the lid. A gasp rushed through her before she could stop it, effectively startling the tiny person huddled in the corner of the box. Yulisa pulled her face away, eyes never leaving the borrower. He was young, but easily had at least two years on her.
    “H-Hello...” Yulisa’s voice was so soft, she scarcely heard it herself.
    The tiny golden-haired borrower didn’t speak, didn’t move. He stayed huddled where he was, wide eyes pointed right up her. Yulisa felt a chill run through her. She accustomed to that kind of stare from most people in the castle, like she was a monster preparing to strike. For the first time, she could understand why someone would look at her like that. He was so tiny, she couldn’t blame him for being terrified.
    She saw blood coating his shoulder and upper arm and seeping through the fabric of his sleeve. It looked dry, but her insides still squirmed in fear. She needed to help him. Pulling her hands away from the sides of the box, she hesitated. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. The expression on his face was so vivid, just like any other normal person: fear of her, uncertainty about what was going to happen to him, regret for calling out.
    How could she possibly hope to get her hands on the borrower without throwing him into a panic? She thought about taking the box altogether, but if it was missing from the desk, Lord Wichink would noticed immediately. Her best chance was to leave the empty box there and make him think the borrower was still trapped within for as long as possible. Which meant she had to pick up the borrower, one way or another.
    “I-It’s alright,” Yulisa said softly, holding her hand out for the borrower to climb on. He only flinched away and threw his arms up in defense, finally turning his terrified gaze away
    Rather than reach in a scoop him out, she grabbed the side of the box and lifted it closer. The little borrower swayed, almost falling away from his corner, but he firmly scooted himself back. She could see his chest moving with shallow breaths. Feeling positively awful, Yulisa held her free hand out and tilted the box toward it. The borrower struggled to hold his spot valiantly, but no amount of scrambling away could stop him from falling directly onto her palm.
    Terror ran through her all at once. She was holding a person. She felt like even the slightest movement could hurt him. Pursing her lips, she busied herself by putting the box back into the corner of the drawer and latching it shut. Her fingers curled a bit around the trembling little person in her hand as she slid the drawer back into its proper place.
    Praying there would be plenty of time before the borrower’s absence was noticed, Yulisa looked down at him in her palm. He had his head down, tiny fingers clutching his blond hair as he sat there motionlessly. His wound seemed redder than ever out of the shadow of the desk.
    Cupping her other hand close to hide him, Yulisa left the study.
    The walk back to the southeast tower felt miles and miles longer than it really was. Yulisa wanted to return to her quarters as soon as possible, but she took the longer route so that it wouldn’t appear she came from the direction of the north tower. Anyone would be quick to blame her once the the borrower was discovered missing if they were even the tiniest bit suspicious that she had been near the north tower.
    Although she tried to look passive and keep an eye out for anyone watching her, Yulisa couldn’t focus all of her attention from the tiny person hidden away in the pouch at her belt. She kept a smooth gait to not jostle him, but she couldn’t help but touch the outside of the pouch every minute or so to reassure him. The borrower was trembling at the bottom, but he had made no attempt to climb out. She felt awful for the poor thing, and it gave her all the more reason to get to her greenhouse swiftly.
    After what felt like an eternity, the southeast tower was well within her path with her greenhouse just beyond it. She brushed the outside of her pouch gently. There was no change.
    Movement appeared in the corner of her eye, a figure standing near the stables. “Witch bitch!”
    The voice alone made Yulisa stop in her tracks. She turned her head, already knowing who she would see. Gregor was perhaps her least favorite guard. Certainly the most openly hostile towards her. She swallowed hard and tried to move on towards the tower before he could bother her further, but his voice cut through the air like a sword again.
    “Don’t you know it’s impolite to ignore someone who’s talking to you?”
    Yulisa paused again, but didn’t turn. She could hear his heavy footsteps drawings towards her. Her fingers clutched at the sides of her dress skirt and she kept her eyes down. Gregor was unpredictable. Sometimes answering was best, and sometimes it was rewarded with a shove to the ground. Before she could decide what sort of response he wanted, he was at her side.
    “Tell me, what’s the little witch doing outside of her swamp?”
    She felt her throat close up, but she turned and glanced at him, over a head taller than her. “Breakfast, sir.”
    He scoffed. “A bit early for you. You only slink in there once everybody’s gone.” He stepped closer and leaned down to look her in the face.
    It took everything she had not to place a protective hand over the pouch. She could feel the borrower trembling without even needing her fingers on the outside of the fabric, and she was nearing the point of quaking as well. She should have come up with a better excuse, but it was too late. It wasn’t as if she left her greenhouse for much more than meals.
    “I have much work to do today, sir,” she said in a quavering voice. “The hyssop needs to be picked and dried, and the nettle is ready to be boiled for--”
    “One of these days you’ll poison us all, won’t you?” he interrupted with a sneer, stepping back. “Why my lord keeps you around, I’ll never understand. Not every castle needs a resident witch bitch conjuring up demons and cursing the place.”
    Yulisa felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. “I-I would never--”
    “Go. I suppose you think you can get me into trouble by distracting me from my duties, don’t you, girl?”
    She opened her mouth to protest, but the opportunity to leave was far sweeter than starting an argument. After all, it would be a lie to say that she never once thought about poisoning a guard or two to make her life a little easier. If she were to be truthful, the only thing that held her back was the knowledge that rumors spread about her if anyone in the castle so much as fell ill. A poisoned cup of wine would be traced right back to her.
    Gregor said no more as she continued her walk toward the greenhouse. She reached it without further incident, pushing the door open. Herbs lined rows of tables and hung from the ceiling. It was a sight she was proud of. Asking Lord Wichink for the proper books and seeds had been a harder task than growing them. The plants thrived under her care. Her only worry was not having enough room for everything she wanted.
    For once, Yulisa didn’t pause to check on any of the plants. Instead, she made a beeline for the trap door at the other end of the greenhouse. She pulled it open and descended into the dark stairwell, the confrontation with the guard already far from her mind.
    The stairs winded straight downwards in a spiral. She closed the trapdoor overhead, but the path wasn’t bathed in the darkness. Vines winded along the stair rails, glowing ethereal green and casting sufficient light all the way down. Yulisa descended carefully, mindful of the passenger in her pouch. She supposed she could let him out and hold him the rest of the way, but she held back. He had trembled more in her grasp than in the pouch.
    A short tunnel greeted her at the bottom of the wooden stairs. The glowing vines snaked along the walls and ceiling, leading off into two other pathways. Finding herself more at ease in her cool, earth-packed surroundings, she took took a left turn into her work room.
    The vines in the room bunched into bundles on the ceiling, hanging like earthen chandeliers, providing brighter light for her to work under. Three tables cluttered with books and notes and equipment stood against the walls, along with shelves overflowing with glass bottles, jars, and more books. The bottles and jars were stuffed with dried herbs and failed attempts at potions she still tinkered with for improvement.
    At least putting together a simple remedy for external wounds wasn’t tough, and she had done just that the night before while she was contemplating a plan to rescue the borrower from the study.
    Making her way to the least cluttered table and clearing a larger spot, she hesitantly reached for the flap of the pouch. “I’m… I’m going to get you out now,” she announced.
    Sliding one hand into the leather fabric, she gingerly felt around for the borrower. It didn’t surprise her when he forced himself to the far side, pushing back like he wanted to disappear right through the other side. Guilt tore at her heart as she wedged her fingers behind him to pry him away. Her empty stomach churned when she closed her fingers. The borrower wriggled around for a second before going completely still. She worried for a moment that he had fainted, but as she brought him into the light, she found he was very much awake.
    “It’s alright.” Yulisa’s murmur did no good. Even when she cupped both hands around him instead of holding him in a fist, he shook and kept his arms over his golden-haired head.
    Without another word, she lowered the little borrower onto the spot she had cleared on the wooden table. Everything--the books, the bottles, the heating and freezing stands--dwarfed him. He finally lifted his gaze from where he sat, locking eyes with her for only a second before hurriedly looking back down. She couldn’t blame him. He didn’t need to look at her like that to make her feel like a lumbering giant. Every movement around him felt like it would only strike more fear.
    Moving as softly as possible, Yulisa stepped over to an adjacent table. A curved stone smaller than her hand was positioned above a freezing flame, a miniscule amount of thick orange substance pooled at the bottom of the curve. The stone chilled her fingers when she pulled it off the blue flame, like she held a block of ice. Hopefully human remedies worked just as well on borrowers. After all, he didn’t look so different other than the size.
    When Yulisa looked back to the table, the borrower wasn’t seated at the spot she’d left him. He was on his knees near the extreme edge of the table, looking down like he contemplated the height to the floor. Alarmed, she lunged for the table, setting the stone down in a swift motion and cupping her hands a few inches below the edge of the table. Her sudden motion elicited a shout of surprise from the borrower and a desperate scrambled backwards. With nowhere else to run, he stopped with his pack pressed against a rounded bottle of dried alcea.
    “I’m sorry.” Yulisa dropped her hands, still shaken. “I-I thought you were going to jump. I’m sorry for scaring you, really--I’m only trying to help you. I have some salve for your shoulder--”
    “I don’t want y-your help!” the borrower snapped in a quavering voice. “You’re a witch, aren’t you?”
    Yulisa felt her insides crumple. “A mystic,” she corrected softly, not daring to budge an inch while his horrified gaze was focused on her. “W-Witch is a terribly rude thing to call--”
    “I don’t care what you’re called!” His tone was surprisingly vicious, not unlike others who looked upon her scornfully. His shoulders rose and fell, but she could see his injured one moving more twitchily. He grabbed it and looked down, helplessness written all over his tiny face. “I-I won’t be your... experiment, or plaything for magic. I won’t!”
    She inched forward tentatively, but he didn’t look up. “Your shoulder is bleeding again, isn’t it?” The only answer she received was a searing glance. “I’m not going to experiment on you! I only brought you here to help. You’re not my prisoner, please believe me.”
    The borrower didn’t look up. Yulisa cautiously closed the distance between herself and the table, pulling a chair around the side and seating herself before him. She felt a shiver run down her spine. He was so small, made even smaller by the way he was cowering and pushing himself away. She never took her eyes off him as she reached aside to grab the cold stone.
    “This salve only works while it’s still fresh from the chill,” she told him gently. “You’ll recover faster than you can imagine, and the pain will go away almost immediately. It’s the best I have. Wasting it would be foolish.”
    “No,” he said simply, finally turning his eyes back up towards her, though they flicked to her hands ever other second, as if they were going to lunge at him.
    “I’ve used it on myself before.” She gave him an earnest look, her fingertips haltingly inching towards the thick substance atop the stone.
    “Where are we? I’ve never seen this room before.”
    Yulisa blinked, surprised by the change of subject. She supposed the earthen walls and glowing vines would be a curious sight to just about anyone. “Under the greenhouse,” she answered. “Still on castle grounds, but no one comes here except me.”
    He clenched his jaw. “Why is that?”
    “Well, it’s… These are my quarters,” she explained. “I may be the resident witch of the castle, but that doesn’t mean I get very many visitors. I’m sure most think that I have the places rigged with curses.” She noticed how the tiny man paled a few shades. “But I don’t, I assure you.”
    “And that,” he said, jutting his chin towards the cold stone. “How do I know that isn’t a curse, or… or some sort of experimental substance that you’ve been waiting to test on someone you wouldn’t get in trouble for hurting.”
    Yulisa sat back in her chair, releasing a sigh of exasperation. She thought long and hard about how to prove her trustworthiness. It seemed hopeless, with the way the little person was cowering away from her, still staring like she was a monstrous giant who meant him harm. She considered simply grabbing him and rubbing the salve onto his injury. It wasn’t as if he would be able to do anything about it. And in the end, his injury would be healed and he would believe her. As she flexed her fingers on her lap, she felt sick to her stomach.
    Leaning forward, she elicited a gasp of fright from the borrower. He stood completely still as she lifted her hand from her lap, but she didn’t make a grab for him. She reached past him and took a scalpel she used for slicing plants. Pursing her lips, she pulled the blade against her index fingertip, drawing a bead of blood. She winced and set the scalpel aside.
    “Wh-What are you doing?” the borrower demanded, looking more confused than ever.
    She offered him a small smile. “Proving it.”
    With her uncut hand, Yulisa took a smear of the salve from the stone and rubbed it onto her fingertip. She held it out for the tiny person to see, but she wasn’t surprised when he pushed himself harder against the flask. A curious frown was on his face, however, instead of intense fear. Right before his eyes, the salve melted into her skin and healed the cut, hardly leaving a trace that skin had been broken at all.
    After she pulled her hand away, she fixed him with an earnest look. “See? Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise. And once you’re healed, you’re free to go. I’ll take you back to the castle so you can return to wherever it is you live--or even outside the gates to make sure you’re not caught again, if that’s what you want.”
    The tiny man was silent, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, Yulisa was sure that he would still refuse--that there was no way he could trust a witch to heal his injury, let alone release him when it was over. Her heart sank like a stone in water when he averted his gaze from her and squeezed his eyes shut. She wasn’t sure what to do anymore. She already had proven her willingness to hurt herself for his trust.
    Yulisa stifled a gasp when the borrower moved. She thought he was making a desperate run for it, but no… He was moving closer to the edge of the table. Closer to her. He wouldn’t look at her, but that didn’t matter--a relieved smile spread across her face when he turned his injured shoulder towards her to heal.