5. It’s Giving Hansel & Gretel
It took a minute for the weird word choice to register in my brain. I frowned at the fussy lace cloth covering a little round table nearby.
“What do you mean human?” I turned to find the woman watching me intently, hands braced on her hips.
“That is what you are, is it not?”
No, I was a Norwegian Forest Cat. Honestly, why couldn’t I find a normal person? “Well, I mean, yeah, obviously. Aren’t we all?”
My host gave me a small, sly smile. “No.”
She bustled past me, leaving a faint trace of rose scent in the air as she wove between the cluttered furniture, stopping before a shelf on the far wall. Crystals of all shapes, sizes and colours were displayed there, along with bunches of dried herbs and a few potted plants. She began to rummage through the contents of the shelf.
“When did you arrive?” She tossed the question over her shoulder, not bothering to look back.
“Yesterday, but, listen, I only need to use your phone, then I’ll be on my way—”
“Have you spoken with anyone else since your arrival?” The woman stalked to the table, placing down a matte black rock, before squeezing between a low coffee table piled with battered old books, and a faded, overstuffed couch. She knelt on the rug before an empty grate, her back to me, and busied herself with something I couldn’t see. Within seconds, flames crackled to life. “Tea?”
Something wasn’t right. I wrapped my arms around myself and edged silently towards the firmly closed door, one silent step at a time. “No, thanks. I just need to use the phone.”
“You look as though you could use a drink,” the woman said, eyeing me again, a hint of disapproval on her perfect face.
“Honestly, I’m fine.” I glimpsed a large, metal teapot suspended over the fire. Who made tea like that? Why didn’t she have a kettle? Did she even have electricity?
Frowning, I scanned the cottage again. Although it was crammed, there were no lamps, or plug sockets, or, come to think of it, not even a light fitting hanging from the low beamed ceiling. It did not look like a house with good Wi-Fi speed. I took another sideways step towards the door.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the woman said in a bored voice as she clambered onto a stool, opening a cupboard that I could have reached without so much as craning my neck. She began pulling jars and tins out, placing them on the counter. A moment later, faster than I would have believed possible, she carried a tray piled with thick slices of crusty bread, jars of jam and a slab of butter to the table. “Here. Eat.”
I eyed the food, my aching stomach growling. So, the cottage belonged to an eccentric loner. Did it mean I should refuse a half decent meal? No. No, it did not. I was starving. Sliding into a spindly chair, praying it would hold my weight, I began to spread butter, keeping one watchful eye on my host, who had returned to the fireside.
China clinked, and by the time I’d smothered my bread in a thick layer of jam and taken an enormous bite, the woman settled opposite, placing two dainty cups and saucers on the table. The delicate little vessel was a far cry from the oversized mugs I used to caffeinate myself at home, but I was gasping for a sip. My water rations hadn’t gone far. I eyed my meal. What if it was poisoned? Everybody knew not to accept food and drink from strangers. My stomach growled, louder this time. Maybe I was being overly cautious, after all, what were the chances that this tiny little woman in the middle of nowhere would have something sinister mixed in her jam? If I didn’t eat something substantial soon, there’d be no need of poison to finish me off. To Hell with it. I took a sip of my tea, groaning as I did.
“My name is Sage,” the woman offered, watching me intently.
“Aliza, with an A,” I grunted through another mouthful of food, wondering if it was wise to share such details. But, I reasoned, this was a woman as alone in the woods as I was, and barely half my height. If she tried to murder me, I was pretty sure I could put up a decent fight. “Do you live here alone?”
“For the most part, yes. I grew up with many sisters, so I enjoy the peace. I return home when I am needed.”
I didn’t have any siblings. My parents had struggled enough to conceive me, resorting to IVF in the end. They’d made the decision to stop at one and count their blessings, to avoid any further heartache. I couldn’t pretend to understand their desperation for a child, but I knew the disappearance of one, even a fully grown one, would be torture to any parent. I had to get home.
“Do you think I could use the phone now? My parents will be crawling the walls.”
Perfectly arched, pale eyebrows rumpled into a frown. “How would they do that?”
“It’s just a figure of speech,” I sighed. It was one thing to enjoy the solitude, but I couldn’t understand why Sage wanted to be so secluded, so out of touch with the world. “It means they’re worried.”
“They are concerned about your quest?”
I laughed into my tea, splashing it over my nose. “I guess you could say that, yeah. I need to let them know I’m safe.”
Sage smiled again, a tiny flicker at the corners of her mouth, as though she was unused to such showy gestures as smiles. “I am sorry to say, there is no way to contact the human world.”
There she was again with the human thing. What harm would it do to play along? Maybe it would make her more sympathetic towards me if I went along with her delusions. Maybe we could send out a carrier pigeon or something. Isobel would love her.
“If you’re not human, what are you?”
“Me? I am a witch.”
Okay. Definitely crazy, but at least that explained the crystals. I forced myself to smile. “Nice. Can you, like, do magic and stuff?”
“Of course.”
“Are you going to do something with that?” I poked the dull black rock. It seemed to absorb all the light. There were no shadows or reflections interrupting its smooth surface, only flat, empty blackness. Like a void.
“That is a warp crystal. It will open a portal back to my ancestral home, but I thought it wise to talk first.”
“Oh, yeah, okay.” I took another gloriously sweet bite of my bread and wracked my brain for a polite way out of this situation. My new witch friend seemed harmless enough, but I had no time to waste, and if she wouldn’t help me, I’d have to thank her for her hospitality and move along.
Sage lifted her cup, taking a tiny sip. “Have you encountered anyone else since you arrived in our world?”
Why with the weird interest in my speaking to other people? Was I going to be held hostage as the new super-best-friend-forever? Was speaking to other people a crime?
“I met a man last night,” I admitted. If anyone would accept my stories of hallucinations, it was the crazy lady opposite me. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to let her know that, if she did lock me in her cellar, someone nearby had seen me. Would remember me. The police would come sniffing… eventually.
Sage frowned, her green eyes burning. “What sort of a man?”
What sort of a question was that? “I don’t know, just a man type, I guess.” I certainly wasn’t about to reveal that I wasn’t convinced he was, well, human. Not with his cold body and strange eyes.
“Of what did he speak?”
“Not much. He was a bit weird, to be honest. He wanted to know my name.” I gave Sage a ‘crazy, right?’ look, but the self-proclaimed witch was far from amused. “Said that it wasn’t safe at night. Oh, and to go south.”
“That is all?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“He did not… do anything?”
“Just gave me his jacket.” I plucked at the sleeve, fastened around my belly. Sage glared at the leather as though it had deeply offended her ancestors.
“Very well,” she muttered. “If you came south, and arrived yesterday, I assume you came through the mountain rift?”
I stared blankly. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I came south. I followed the river.”
“Where were you before you arrived?”
“In a cave. I slipped and fell, and woke up on a riverbank, just a few hours from here.”
Something flickered over her pretty face. “You slipped? Do you mean to tell me you did not come here purposely?”
I laughed again. My full stomach had improved my mood to no end. “Definitely not.”
“Then you do not know why you are here?”
“I’m here because I need to use the phone.” Not that I had any hope of finding one in this museum of a cottage.
“No, girl.” Sage shook her head. “That is not why you are here at all. It was no mere chance that saw you take a tumble in those caves. You are supposed to be here. You have come to break the curse. You are here to save us all.”
Crazy. Absolutely batshit crazy. Perfect. Exactly what I needed. Not.
My bland smile had become quite fixed. I was definitely going to end up bubbling in a cauldron full of stew before the day was out. Typical. It served me right for going camping.
“Erm,” I croaked, clearing my tight throat. “Curse? I don’t know anything about a curse. I just really need to get home—”
Sage sighed heavily, placing down her teacup, and settling back in her chair. “I can see you do not believe a word I am saying. Do humans really forget so quickly?”
Unnerved as I was, I was rapidly losing patience with this bullshit. I didn’t have time to sit around talking about curses and witches. My parents were looking for me. They’d be beside themselves. I wanted to go home, now, or better yet, yesterday.
“Look,” I said, injecting a steely tone into my voice. One of my workplace voices. I had a few. Most were varying ratios of gentleness and coaxing, but sometimes, a vet needed to be firm. “I don’t know anything about curses, or magic, or portals. I just want to go home.”
Sage giggled, a surprisingly high, girlish sound that didn’t suit her at all. “I have met many humans, Aliza with an A, all eager and determined, all desperate for their chance at the prize. I admit, it has been a long while since I saw the last one. We had begun to believe the rifts had sealed on your end, or the humans had learnt to stay away. I never dreamt that, in only a few generations, you would have forgotten us. Forgotten what has been promised.”
“Look, I’m sorry but—”
“Enough!” Sage slapped her hand on the table. “It is clear you are ignorant. Allow me to prove who I am, and then, perhaps, you will be inclined to hear the rest.”
The witch got to her feet and snatched down a brown cloak from a peg by the door, swinging it around her shoulders as she wiggled her feet into black ballet pumps. Then she pressed her palm flat against the door, closed her eyes, and began to mutter. At first, nothing happened, but then the house gave a low groan, like an old ship at sea, and all at once, the lock on the door clanked and shutters slammed over the windows, bolts sliding across of their own accord, plunging the cottage into semi-darkness. Gasping, I skidded my chair back against the wall. The fact that I was well and truly trapped paled in the face of magic.
Sage’s shadowy silhouette approached, causing me to shrink back against the unforgiving wood of my chair. She snatched the crystal up from the table.
“Get up,” she demanded. “We will only have a moment.”
“For what?” I squeaked, rising on trembling legs. So much for being firm.
The witch, the real, actual witch, ignored me. In the dimness, I watched as she held out her hand, the black rock lying on the flat of her palm. Sage began to mutter again, her words in no language I’d ever heard. Then, she moved her hand, pulling it back to her side, but the crystal stayed where it was, suspended in mid-air.
Not real. Not fucking real.
What little light was left in the room began to bend, as though sucked into the dark pit of the crystal. I gave another shuddering gasp and pressed myself flat against the wall, as though that would help me.
The black rock began to expand rapidly, the light twisting around it, as though it was some great whirlpool of darkness, hung in the middle of the quaint little cottage. When it was large enough to swallow a person hole, Sage turned to me.
“Quickly.”
My fingertips pressed against the wall, as though I could cling to it like a gecko. “I—I don’t know what—”
“It is a portal. Jump.”
My mouth hung open as I shook my head. “I don’t think—”
A small but surprisingly strong hand closed around my wrist, tugging me away from the wall. Sage shoved my spine, pushing me headlong into the vortex. Darkness engulfed me for the second time in twenty-four hours. I screamed, or, at least, I tried to. My throat burnt, and yet, no sound came out. I drifted, floating, the darkness and silence pressing in on all sides, obliterating all else. If Sage was with me, I couldn’t see even a hint of her.
And then, quite suddenly, light and noise came rushing back.
I sprawled face down on a smooth stone floor. Not the ornate rug in the cottage. Gone was the crackle of flames, the distant twitter of birds. Instead, voices sounded all around me, exclaiming in shock.
I lifted my head.
An enormous, cavernous chamber of stone greeted me. Huge, arched windows took up one wall, beyond which gulls soared in a clear sky. Several women wearing frilly, ruffled dresses stood nearby, staring down at me.
Feet clad in black ballet pumps appeared beside my head, and I looked up to find Sage primly patting dust from her cloak. She winked at me, then turned to the assembled women.
“Sisters! I come with a gift.”