Chapter 1 #2
I paused at that. The sickness had been all too common of late, and often fatal. “Her lungs rattle with her breaths?”
“They do.” The boy looked up, but the fog was so thick by now that he couldn’t very well have seen a foot in front of him. His eyes were round with terror, and I couldn’t help but feel a little pity stirring for the boy, especially with a sick mother.
I set down my bag and threw a hood over my head so that my face was deep in shadow. In a moment, I was at the boy’s side, and I clasped him firmly on the shoulder. The boy stiffened under my grip, his trembling all the more apparent now.
“I … I will pay you for your service.” The boy’s voice came out so disjointed it was hard to make out the words. Poor boy. “I saved some coin. It’s not much, but … it’s all we have.”
“Coin,” I scoffed. “What use have I for coin?” I chuckled. “No, dear boy, coin is not all you have. In fact, you have something much more valuable to me on you at this very moment.”
The boy swallowed hard, and I watched him struggle with his fear. If he truly wanted to help his mother, he would pay the price. “I’ll … I’ll pay whatever you want,” he finally agreed, getting to his feet.
I couldn’t help the smile that crawled across my face. “Very good.” I stepped around him and he got his first good view of me: tall and imposing, wrapped in my maroon cloak, face hidden in darkness. At least this child hadn’t wet himself.
I reached out and placed one finger under his chin, lifting his face to meet my eyes, which surely glowed menacingly from the potion I’d ingested. “I’ll take just one little tooth.”
His eyes widened and he took a step back. “A … a tooth?”
I crossed my arms. “That’s the price.”
He seemed to be at war with himself, but he composed his face bravely and lifted his chin. “Do it.”
I was impressed. I took a step closer and he didn’t waver, but rather opened his mouth, an invitation.
I reached inside and drummed a finger over one tooth, then another, savoring the moment as the boy’s hands trembled at his side.
I decided on a molar. It was a baby tooth, ready to fall out on its own within a week’s time without my intervention.
I reached back and pinched it firmly between my fingers.
“This might hurt,” I said with a low chuckle, yanking the tooth out with practiced ease before I’d even finished the warning.
The boy yelped and leapt back, hands immediately going to his right cheek. I could see the skin push outward in his cheek as he explored the area of the missing tooth with his tongue. He had tears gathered in his eyes as he gulped air. That was all I needed, for him to start bawling.
“Don’t be so dramatic. It’ll grow back,” I scoffed, dropping a bottle at the boy’s feet. “You’ve earned your mother’s life. Be proud of that. One swallow in the morning and one in the evening, for six days. Do you understand?”
The boy nodded stiffly, and I withdrew into the fog with my prize.
I watched for a moment as the boy picked up the bottle carefully and stared around him in wonder. I rolled my eyes and snapped a twig underfoot that sent the boy skittering into the fog like a startled deer.
Smirking, I pushed my hood back and gathered my bag once more. The pod around my neck was still mostly full, as such small shows of magic required little energy.
I stared in the direction the boy had gone, listening to the sounds of his hurried footfalls through the bog. I hoped my little display would dissuade them from coming to see me often. I couldn’t have the townsfolk seeking me out for every little inconvenience, as much as I wanted their teeth.
I held up the boy’s tooth and watched residual blood collect at what remained of the root and drip to the mossy ground. I couldn’t hold back a delighted squeal that spilled from my lips. It was a fine-looking tooth, healthy and a crisp white. It looked utterly delectable.
I popped it into my mouth. My eyes closed in ecstasy as the enamel crunched beneath my own teeth. So damn tasty.
“A magnificent display, Mister Witch!” a girl’s voice rang out from behind me.
I whirled, then scowled at the red-haired girl, roughly seven years old, standing at the front stoop of my house. She waved eagerly at me. Therese. Lovely.
“You had him shaking in his boots!” she insisted. I walked over the pond, as if by magic, when in reality, several stones were hidden just beneath the surface by a spell that raised them and lowered them based on the water level.
“If only you would follow his example,” I said, frowning at Therese.
Therese grinned in return. I’d learned months ago that no amount of bravado would scare the girl off.
And the little spy had clearly memorized the way across the pond from watching me and came and went as she pleased now, like unwanted vermin.
It was my youthful appearance, I was sure.
Being perpetually seventeen had its disadvantages.
“Therese, go home.” I sighed as I walked the few steps up to the porch. “I’ve told you—it’s dangerous to be here.”
Therese followed me inside. “It’s more dangerous to be unsupervised at home when Father works in the fields all day, don’t you think? A girl could die of boredom.”
“If only.” She stooped in the doorway to greet a black cat.
That was the only reason I’d tolerated the girl’s presence.
My familiar had taken a shine to her. When I’d first stepped into my shop and discovered her, Therese had been sitting in a rocking chair with my cat sitting contentedly in her lap.
The traitorous feline had even been purring.
“Hello, Narcissa,” Therese cooed as she removed her wool shawl. “And how are you this morning?”
Narcissa blinked up at her lazily, tail twitching.
The sight of Narcissa reminded me of the orchids, and I quickly set down my bag to unpack them.
The large room at the front of the house was full of cupboards and counters, dried flowers hanging from the rafters. The bowls in the cupboards were meticulously labeled, as was each bottle, while various daggers and ceremonial cloths were displayed carefully beneath glass.
Mine was a well-respected potion shop for witches, with some rare ingredients found only here in England.
The large tree stump in the middle of the room with runes burned into its base was a portal used by my kind to reach such destinations.
If I wasn’t on hand to assist a customer myself, a golem, David, stepped into the role.
David was currently sitting in a rocking chair, a thin, reedy man made of clay with a mouth and two holes for eyes, but no nose or other unnecessary details.
Grass was growing thickly up his back currently, and a spider had taken up residence in his right eye socket.
David was inanimate until a customer arrived, however, so he wouldn’t mind.
A thin film of dust covered him at the moment, testament to how slow business had been lately. Not that I minded.
I took down two human skulls that I had painted a lovely shade of cerulean blue to use as flower pots. I quickly made my new orchids at home, setting them near the tree stump portal, where a good amount of light filtered in through a window.
“They’re very pretty,” Therese observed.
“Thank you,” I said, watching with bated breath as Narcissa approached the flowers. Her eyes flicked to them momentarily. She slunk right past them, however. I sighed. “I thought for sure she would appreciate them.”
Of course the last few flowers I’d brought home, Narcissa had merely shoved off the countertop. But orchids were different. Regal-looking. Narcissa must appreciate them, even if she didn’t show it.
“Maybe she will appreciate them more after they’ve grown a bit.”
“Perhaps,” I said, unconvinced.
Therese made her way to the basin at the back of the shop and filled a watering can.
It was my favorite, with yellow daisies painted across it.
It put a smile on my face on gloomy days.
I’d shown Therese my ritual for watering the plants around the shop in an attempt to distract her from the more fragile items around the space.
I’d also hoped doing chores would bore her.
But no, the clingy little human took a shine to it and began to sing as she climbed down to water the nightshade growing in the corner.
I brightened at the song she was singing, a folktale about mermaids pulling sailors into the water to drown them.
So fanciful and lovely. I began to hum it under my breath as well.
My favorite part was when the sailors’ limbs were entangled in the seaweed and salt water filled their lungs.
The circle of life was so inspiring. To think of all the marine life those sailors would be feeding.
“Ew. What are these?”
I looked up to find that Therese had set down the watering can to inspect an apothecary jar. She held up a bone with dried green flesh clinging to it. “Frog legs. Now, what did I say about handling the merchandise?”
Therese wrinkled her nose. “Father says that’s what people eat in Paris.”
“And do you know what witches eat?”
As I said “human children,” she mouthed the answer along with me with a mocking, wrinkled nose. I supposed I may have tried to scare her off multiple times with that line, but it wasn’t a lie either. She was lucky I had poor digestion.
An odd smell filled the air, all at once, like rotten eggs. Sulfur.
My blood froze in my veins, and I stared at Therese with wide eyes. “Therese. Get down and don’t make a sound.”
Therese must have noted the fear in my voice, for she complied at once, ducking behind the counter, in the corner where the shadows offered at least a little cover. It would have to do, for a moment later, a fire burned the floor in the shape of a pentagram.
I stepped back, my fear abating slightly. I wasn’t afraid for myself, after all. And the theatrics of demons were ridiculously over-the-top.