THIRTY-FIVE
Darkness had fallen by the time he arrived at the walls around the witch's garden. This had to be the place, for the rest of the mountain was covered in vineyards and these stone walls looked positively ancient. There was just one problem: the gates were closed, and no matter how loudly Lubos knocked or shouted, no one came to open them.
All his frustration and fury at losing Molina bubbled up. He'd ridden so far, willing to do anything to save her, and the witch wasn't about to let the crown prince of the realm she lived in through the gates?
To hell with that.
Lubos found a spot where the wall looked easier to climb, and started up. It had been some time since he'd climbed anything, but it was a skill, once learned, that a man never forgot. A handhold here, a toehold th
