5
W hat is the meaning of this? Bennett demanded, stalking forward.
The seamstress could hear nothing but a series of aggressive meows, but she guessed his meaning. “Don’t be too angry with me. I was working under orders,” she said, draping a swath of silk over the chaise longue.
“Under whose orders? And you’re a charmwitch how did you manage a...a feline transformation potion?”
“I bought it, obviously ,” Giselle said. “Look at you. Knowing the difference between charms and potions. Lovely work.”
I raked a hand through my hair. “How could you do this? Giselle, this is treason. ”
Giselle raised her hands. “It wasn’t my idea. Don’t throw me in prison just yet.”
Surely Giselle wasn’t conspiring with a rebel cause. The anti-witch riots had just died down a month ago, and I was certain she wouldn’t have anything to do with it since her childhood bully, Celeste Carr, had fueled the flames in the first place. Was it for an ambassador, perhaps? A threat outside of Olderea?
Bennett yowled.
“Oh, stop screaming at me,” Giselle said, bending down to shoo him away from a bolt of periwinkle chiffon. He hissed. “Just trust that I didn’t mean any harm. The person who asked me to do it will reveal themselves soon enough. After you two figure out how to turn back, of course.”
“What? You’re not going to help us?” I asked. My voice heightened in pitch once again. It was increasingly difficult to remain calm amongst this madness.
“Of course I’m going to help! We’re friends after all.”
I’m starting to question that fact , Bennett hissed.
So was I.
“See here. I’ll take you two down to Witch Village and Narcissa can whip up the antidote in no time,” Giselle said. “I’ll provide the recipe and ingredients and everything.”
I gaped. “You want me to make the antidote?”
Giselle slung her pouch over her shoulder. “Seeing as you’re the only herbwitch around here, yes. Now. Put on a dressing gown before you scandalize everyone. Let’s go!”
BENNETT SAT STIFFLY as our carriage rolled down the street, his face turned away from Giselle. She didn’t seem to mind his icy demeanor in the least.
The dressing gown I had borrowed was a plain pink affair with three-quarter sleeves and simple trimming. Although the silk was light and breathable, it was still uncomfortably warm within the confines of the carriage.
Giselle had called a groomsman to take us to Delibera’s witch market, claiming I had a wardrobe emergency that could only be solved there. I doubted the groom was convinced, but a coin from me guaranteed his silence. I was growing frustrated with her when she refused to answer my questions. I eventually gave up trying. If she was intent on being tight-lipped, so be it.
I threw Bennett another glance. He showed no signs of discomfort, though I had never seen a cat look quite so stiff in a carriage. Usually they preferred lounging rather than sitting upright.
Unable to help myself, I ran a hand down his back and tail. His ear twitched, but otherwise he did not react. I pet him again. After a few repetitions, he relaxed beneath me. I moved to scratch his ears.
My usual regimen for petting cats came as naturally as breathing. When he rested his head on my lap and purred deeply, I had nearly forgotten the little calico cat was a crown prince. I stroked his whiskered cheek.
Cissa...
That moment, the carriage rattled to a stop. A look out the window showed a secluded alley where the backs of two brick buildings met. The market was about a block away, still bright and noisy despite the late hours.
Giselle hopped off. “Here we are. The closest way to Witch Village.”
Curious, I lifted Bennett out of the carriage and let him to the ground. I had heard about the magic passageways to Witch Village, though I had yet to go through one myself.
We stood in front of an unremarkable wooden door, small with a tarnished brass knob. Giselle opened it, revealing nothing but darkness.
“We had to create more passageways since more witches are coming aboveground,” Giselle explained. “I can’t attest to the talent of the charmwitch who conjured this one, but it’s my favorite. It smells like bread.”
I looked down at Bennett. His ears were turned back.
“Do you want me to carry you?” I asked.
He meowed his affirmation.
Giselle grinned as I took him into my arms.
“What?” I said.
“I’m imagining this scene if His Highness were human,” she said with a snicker.
A blush tinged my cheeks as I let Bennett onto my shoulders. “Just show us the way, Giselle.”
And so she did. Despite the glaring streetlamps behind us, there was no path to be discerned within. The passageway was a tunnel of impenetrable darkness and would have been terrifying if there weren’t the faintest smell of baking bread in the air. The aroma provided some comfort as I held onto Giselle’s hand so I didn’t get lost, though the charmwitch told me there were no real directions. One simply had to walk forward long enough until the passageway opened for us.
It finally did. A doorway of light appeared ahead. As we walked through it, the darkness melted away with a soft whoosh of wind. Before us was a spiral of quaint buildings on a massive hill surrounded by what looked like farmland. I blinked rapidly at the bright afternoon sun on the cloudless sky.
So this was Witch Village.
Giselle shielded her eyes. “The weather witches are utterly careless these days. You’d think they’d at least get the time of day right.” She whipped out a cotton scarf and wrapped it around her head and neck. At my questioning look, she said, “I’m keeping a low profile for now,” and threw me a wink.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask why.
The awe of being surrounded by a magical simulation of outdoors didn’t quite wear off until Giselle led us past the farmlands where a few witches were scattered about. They were too far away to acknowledge us, which I was glad of. The faster we finished our business, the better.
When the fields ended, we stopped before a modest three-story building, painted a soft robin’s egg blue. Bright pink flowers bloomed on either side of a yellowish-orange door.
“Here we are,” Giselle said, opening the door and kicking off her boots at the threshold.
We passed through a neat sitting room of beige and green and entered another space. It looked like a kitchen, with a stove, wooden counters, and overhead cabinets. A bay window overlooked a patch of grass and a neat herb garden. Along the walls were shelves of pots and pans, jars of strange liquids, dusty old books, and dried plants I didn’t recognize. The fireplace was filled with chopped wood and kindling.
“Here’s the kitchen and potion-making room,” Giselle said. “Lovely little place, isn’t it?”
I nodded. There was a cozy charm to the home that the palace lacked.
Bennett jumped down from my arms and wandered about the space, the tip of his tail curling in curiosity. I watched him for a moment. A traitorous part of me thought it was almost nice having him this way. He stayed close and his thoughts were easy to decipher. Plus, he did make an adorable cat.
Giselle took my elbow. “Come! Let’s get you into potion-making gear.”
WE LEFT BENNETT TO explore. Giselle led me to an even smaller room with a low ceiling. Beneath a square window with yellow curtains was a narrow bed with matching bedsheets. Sewing supplies were strewn haphazardly across the floor.
“Is this your room?” I asked as Giselle helped me out of my dressing gown.
“Temporarily,” she said with a shrug. “I try not to visit too often.”
My gown pooled to the floor. I turned and reached for the clothes Giselle laid out on the bed. A linen blouse, an apron, boots, and a pair of...
“Trousers?” I rummaged through the pile again, but there wasn’t a petticoat to be seen. “You can’t be serious. That,” I said, pointing to the garment, “will breed scandal.”
“Not any more than your nightgown,” Giselle said pointedly. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Luckily Sister Scarlett doesn’t take weekly trips to Witch Village. And us witch girls wear trousers all the time. You’ll fit right in.”
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t need to be reminded of Sister Scarlett’s articles, but I felt some relief knowing she couldn’t see me here.
Giselle waited for me outside as I dressed. A few minutes later, I managed to walk out in the ensemble. The blouse and apron were comfortable enough, but the trousers pinched at unfamiliar areas. I sorely missed the freedom of skirts.
Giselle beamed when I stiffly reentered the potion room. “Look at you, looking like a proper witch and all!”
Bennett sat on a bench, gingerly licking a paw. He paused at the sight of me.
“This proper witch would like to get started before her fiancé picks up any more feline habits,” I said flatly.
Giselle rummaged through a small shelf above the counter, pulled out a dusty handbook, and flipped it open to a bookmarked page. “Alright. Here’s what you’re making.” She slid it over to me.
I began to read aloud. “‘This antidote was passed down from my great aunt Martha who loved to quilt, but sadly passed away in the year of—’”
“Forget the backstory.” Giselle snatched the book back and turned the page. “Here.”
Animal Transformation Potion Antidote
A one hour nap is recommended after the subject ingests the following antidote.
Ingredients:
1 cup of water
4 sprigs of nixgrass
3 sheets of broadleaf gelatin
1 pickled silk anolifruit
1 powdered crescent shrew tail
A hair or sample from the subject
Honey to taste
Instructions:
In a small cauldron, bring the water to a simmer. Steep the nixgrass until the water becomes fragrant and deep brown. Remove pulp and cool.
In a separate bowl, soak three broadleaf gelatin sheets with a splash of cooled nixgrass tea. Wait 10-1 minutes until the gelatin has softened.
Dice one silk anolifruit and grind the crescent shrew tail into a powder. Prepare the sample from the subject. When the water is boiling again, add in the broadleaf gelatin. Let it fully dissolve before adding the rest of the ingredients.
Stir clockwise twenty times until it has reduced to a syrupy consistency. Color may vary depending on the subject. Stir counter clockwise fifty times. Take it off the heat and let the antidote cool. Add honey to taste.
It read like a recipe. I had never tried my hand in the kitchen before, but how hard could following instructions be?
“Very well,” I said. “Let’s get started then.”
I tied my hair back with a ribbon I found in the apron pocket as Giselle pulled out a multitude of herbs and vials, mixing bowls and measuring spoons, and a small black cauldron in which she began to pump water.
Bennett hopped onto the counter, with increased nimbleness I noticed, and let me pluck a hair from his body. I set it into a mortar and pestle.
“Here you are,” Giselle said, passing over the cauldron by its thin iron handle.
The water sloshed within as I gingerly carried it over to the low cast iron stove.
“Bring the water to a simmer,” I read from the book.
Giselle nodded encouragingly.
I blushed, realizing that I hadn’t a clue how to boil water. The thought was rather humbling. I looked to the stove. “How does this work?”
Giselle pressed her lips together, a smile trembling at the edge of them. Thankfully, she didn’t laugh.
“These are the burners,” Giselle said as she removed one of the heavy metal disks and set aside. There was wood in the space beneath, which she lit with a match through a small grate at the bottom of the stove.
“And then just wait for it to heat. The front two burners are hotter than the ones in the back,” Giselle said, shrugging as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Add more kindling and keep the damper wide open if you need it hotter.” She patted the long black pipe coming out from the stove.
“Uh...very well.” I looked at the stove nervously as she replaced the burner and set the cauldron on top of it. I was starting to understand why Bennett had a fear of fire. He had opted for a perch furthest away from the stove, on top of a wooden shelf of books and other knick knacks.
Bennett gave an encouraging meow. You can do this, Cissa.
I pulled on a smile for his sake, then took a deep breath. This was all for Bennett. All would be well once he turned back.
When the water began to simmer, I dropped in four sprigs of nixgrass.
“You’re doing great,” Giselle said, peeking over my shoulder. “I’ll be back at sunset! I have another client to attend to.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?” I grabbed her sleeve. “You can’t leave me alone with a stove !”
She waved her hand in the air. “Oh, you’ll be fine. My roommates will be here soon. They’ll make sure you don’t burn the house down.”