6. Blink Twice If You Need Help
“Is that… a human?”
“It is, indeed. Aliza with an A, she calls herself. She appeared at my doorstep not a half hour ago.”
I scrambled to my feet, sliding behind Sage, who barely came up to my collarbone, as the women drifted closer, shock replaced by eager curiosity. Sage might call them sisters, but they did not look related. They were all as short as her, but the resemblance ended there. One had hair of burning orange with skin coated in freckles. Another had tightly wound, black curls and rich dark skin. None had Sage’s blonde hair.
“Aliza with an A,” the redhead said, testing the name on her tongue as she drifted closer. “I don’t know, it’s a strange name”.
“I like it,” said another with upswept, chestnut eyes. “It is quite pretty.”
Clearly, they were all fucking insane. Where was I? Definitely not in the wood. What on earth was going on now? I glanced around, my eyes landing on a large door at the far side of the room.
Noted.
I had a way out if things got hairy, but there was no telling what fresh horrors awaited on the other side of that door. Gulping, I turned my attention back to the women. They couldn’t suspect I was primed to flee. I willed my breathing to slow.
The redhead gave Sage a swift look. The blonde witch only sighed and said, “She knows nothing. I tried to explain, but she did not believe a word of it, not even that I am a witch.”
“So you warped the poor thing here to prove a point?” The brown-skinned woman grasped my upper arms in her warm hands. “Poor girl. You look horrible.”
“She was like that when I found her,” Sage muttered.
Woah. Okay. I didn’t need a mirror to know I wasn’t looking my best, but was there any need? They’d look a little worse for wear too if they’d been through the things I’d endured.
“You did not think to tidy her up?”
“I told you, she did not believe me. Besides, she told me she spoke with a man. I needed her here quickly.”
Several gasps sounded in unison and my muscles tensed in answer.
“A man?” The hands grasping my arms tightened. “What was he?”
“She does not know. I believe she thinks us all human.”
“This man,” the brown-skinned witch pressed, peering up at me with rich, dark eyes, lined at the outer corners. “What shape were his ears?”
Half an hour ago, I might have thought it a weird question, but now, the words just rolled over me as though the witch had asked the time. “Erm, just ear shaped, I think. Like mine. I didn’t really notice.”
The witch visibly relaxed, though shot a pointed look at a nearby companion. “Fetch Granny.” She turned back to me. “My name is Hyacinth, and this is Nairsgarth Castle, house of the Western Witches. You will be perfectly safe and comfortable here.”
“Actually.” I cleared my throat, attempting to inject my voice with a little authority. “I was saying to Sage, I really need to get home to—to the human world.” It felt ridiculous even saying it, but nothing had been normal since I went into those stupid caves. “I can’t stay here.”
Hyacinth gave me a pitying look. “Have your kind truly become so unlearned?”
Reluctantly, I shook my head, glancing again to the window. Glittering ocean spanned to the horizon, revealing no hint of my location. How the tables had turned. I was supposed to be the one people came to for answers. I was supposed to figure things out and set them right. To reassure other people. There were few mysteries that could not be solved with a culture dish or a scalpel.
Not here, apparently. Here, I was unlearned. Here, I didn’t have the faintest clue of where to look for answers. I certainly wasn’t going to get them from this gang of weirdos with their cryptic superstitions and evasions.
“I tried to explain, but she would not listen,” Sage insisted.
“Oh, I wonder why,” I spat, my temper and embarrassment getting the better of me. I was beyond exhausted, and nothing made any sense. This was all bullshit. What had I done to deserve this?
“I understand your desire to return to your world,” Hyacinth said hurriedly. She took my hand in her own, clucking at the state of my fingers. “But, dear girl, there is much you do not know. Our world, beyond the wards of Nairsgarth, is a dreadfully dangerous place for a human. You cannot wander alone. It’s a blessing you made it to Sister Sage in one piece. Why don’t you rest a while, let us tidy you up, and then we will talk more, and see what we can do to help.”
The idea was not appealing. Despite the bone-aching tiredness, I didn’t want to waste time resting. I could rest when I got home, safe in my own bed, with Mum fussing and making all my favourite foods. Her coddling could be intense at times, but my chosen career wasn’t always cute puppies and kittens. Sometimes it was hard. On days like that, I was grateful for Mum and her fussing. I’d lap it up when this was over. Tears sprang to my eyes again, but I blinked them away. I had long since learnt to hold my emotions at bay. It was a necessity, really, in my line of work. I had to be the strong, steady one, while others dissolved into grief. I’d been present through countless goodbyes. I could handle this.
“My parents are looking for me,” I sniffed. “I have to go.”
Sage appeared at Hyacinth’s elbow. “You will never make it back to the human world if you charge ahead without a plan. Would your parents prefer to have you delivered safely if a little late, or not at all?”
Hyacinth shifted, her face the image of sympathy, but she didn’t argue my cause. “Come. Let us get you settled. Granny will want to see you, and those fingers look sore. Let us tidy you up.”
With no other immediate option open to me, I nodded. I was sore. My nails were throbbing. Probably infected. There wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t hurt. Hyacinth smiled encouragingly, leading me across the chamber, past the silently watching women. Witches, I assumed. I thought of Sage’s portal and shivered; if they could do that, there was no telling what terrible powers they might have. Did they turn people into frogs? Would I become a frog? The thought should have sent me running down the corridors, screaming for help, but I couldn’t find any resistance left in me. Was this the shock equivalent of grief’s acceptance stage? I didn’t believe any of it, but so far, not believing had gotten me nowhere. I was past caring, as long as the witches helped me get home.
“We will get you some proper clothes,” Hyacinth said, misreading my shudder. “Though you are a little tall.”
I gave a weak smile. If they thought I was wearing too-short clothes, they could think again. As a tall woman, there was little worse than a hem that missed its mark. I would make do with my shorts and T-shirt a while longer, even if they were filthy. My life was shaping up to be bad enough without the addition of awkwardly fitting clothes. Besides, I’d be home soon. I had to be. I’d have no need of their ugly garments.
I meekly followed Hyacinth through the door I’d spotted earlier, out into a wide corridor that looked like something from a fairy tale castle with its vaulted ceilings, tiled floors and candles burning in brackets. Sage stalked along at my other side, her short strides quick. We passed a cluster of women, gathered around a window, who all did double takes when they saw me, and followed my progress with wide eyes.
“Did you see that?” one hissed.
“Was that a human?”
I blocked out their words. I had no idea what time it was, but it had already been a long day. Longer even than yesterday. The last thing I wanted or needed was to be gawked at like some endangered animal at the zoo. I felt freakish enough, towering head and shoulders over my escorts, without the human obsession.
Hyacinth led us out through some open doors, into a balmy courtyard. Shaded walkways spanned the edges, but the middle was full of neat lawns and beds of plants and flowers. Benches were spaced along paths of gravel. The scent of the nearby ocean mingled with the delicate perfume of flowers.
“This is a communal area,” Hyacinth said with a bright smile. “Feel free to come here if you ever need a little air. It is open night and day.”
I didn’t like the way she spoke, as though I’d be staying long enough to make use of the facilities, but it was pointless to argue. Nobody seemed to care that I didn’t want to be here. If I was going to find my way home, I would just have to cooperate, at least until I figured out my own plan. We skirted the garden, drawing yet more whispers from the women enjoying the sunshine. Some were young, others old. I spotted a white-haired old lady leaning on a cane. There were no men. No children.
Back into the chilled shade of the building we went, up stone staircases and down long passages, while I looked about with mounting interest. Though the passages were busy, I saw only women.
“Don’t you have any wizards here?” I asked.
Hyacinth shot me a questioning look, but it was Sage who answered. “There are no males within these halls. Witches are all born female.”
I frowned. “How do you… have kids?”
Sage smirked. “When a man and a woman love one another—”
“Don’t tease,” Hyacinth snapped. “The poor girl knows nothing.”
“I know plenty,” I insisted, blushing. “I obviously know how babies are made, but what I meant was, you need men for that. Unless witches can reproduce asexually.”
“What?”
Ha. Finally. I knew something they didn’t. The little spark of triumph glowed all the brighter in such a dark nest of emotion. “Reproduce without a partner.”
Sage laughed. “No, we are not like that. We require a male. Unfortunately, we do not have any. No witches have been born in many years.”
“But if you’re all born female—”
“Humans,” Sage said simply. “Human males, brought through the rift. But you are the first of your kind to come here in a long, long time.”
“You bring human men through the rift? As studs? Do they have a choice?”
Sage gave me a wry smirk. “There were plenty of volunteers, believe me. They were well kept and enjoyed their duties. We were once able to be selective, choosing only the finest specimens to enhance our lines, but now, I fear compromises would be made should a male become available.”
That was one way of putting it.
“Anyway, here we are.” Hyacinth pushed open a large door, revealing a sunlit bedroom beyond. “Your quarters. They are comfortably equipped.”
I stepped cautiously into the room. Comfortably equipped was an understatement. It was just like a dream. A large four-poster bed stood on a dais opposite the door, draped in heavy cream curtains embroidered with pink blossoms. An elaborate wardrobe and matching table stood to my right, with a dressing table further along the wall, just past a closed door. A low table and a selection of chairs clustered around a large fireplace, and a desk was tucked under one window. The room was almost as big as my entire house.
“Wow,” I said, despite myself.
“I will see to the fire.” Sage crossed the room.
This time, I watched her closely. The witch stacked logs in the grate, but she didn’t use matches or a lighter or whatever tools they might have used in the old days. Instead, she merely whispered something and clicked her fingers. A flame sparked to life in the logs, catching quickly. I gulped.
“You will be given a guide to settle you in and help you find your way about,” Hyacinth explained as she pulled open the wardrobe, frowning at its contents. “The neophytes once tended to our needs and such when they were not in lessons. They have all long since graduated into fully fledged witches, and so we share menial duties amongst us all. That does mean we try to maintain our quarters ourselves, to make the work a little easier. I’m afraid that will apply to you, too.”
“Okay,” I said blandly, as though I intended on having an extended stay.
I drifted to the windows and peered out. The drop was dizzying, made so much worse by the sheer cliff that plunged down to the churning water, far below. There would be no escape through the window. It didn’t matter. I’d just have to find another way.
Scraping and tinkling drifted from behind me, along with the rustle of fabrics.
“Aliza, come. Sit.” Sage commanded me like a dog. I wrestled my frown into submission before turning to find the witch gesturing to a chair before the fire. “Let me see your wounds.”
Passing Hyacinth, now laying numerous dresses out on the bed, I sank into the chair. I almost moaned with relief as I settled into the plush cushions, letting my head loll back. I hadn’t realised just how much I needed a soft seat after a night of bark biting my arse. The armchair was absolute bliss. Sage knelt before me, eyeing my scabbing knee with distaste.
“This will need cleaning. It will sting.”
A sideboard to the right of the fireplace stood open, revealing more bowls and jars within. On its surface a wooden chopping board lay cluttered with diced greenery and a large, gleaming knife. Not a drop of saline to be seen. The witch laid a selection of bowls on the hearth, along with a pestle and mortar.
“A poultice,” Sage explained, following my gaze. “But that comes afterwards.”
“Go ahead.” I fluttered my fingers to my knee. I was too exhausted to care about anything, even wound hygiene. My eyelids dragged irresistibly down.
The witch fished a cloth from a bowl of liquid and pressed it to the cut, which immediately exploded with pain. I winced, sucking a breath through my clenched teeth, all thoughts of sleep abandoned, but Sage paid no heed as she proceeded to dab gently.
“You can’t just heal it with your magic?” If magic had to be real, then couldn’t it at least have the decency to patch me up?
The witch smiled wryly. “No. Witch magic does not work like that. The world has already given us all we need to heal ourselves. It is a simple matter of knowing how to use it. Witches can do a little of this and that, but if you want raw healing magic, it is the elves you need.”
Elves. Of course. How silly of me. My brain presented me with an image of a sea of tiny people in stripy tights and Santa hats. I swallowed a giggle. If the elves were as good at healing as Sage claimed, maybe I would take a few home and set them to work in my practice. First, I had to figure out a way out of this mess.
Sage laid down her cloth and turned her attention to the thick, green paste she had ground in the pestle. She smeared a layer over the smarting wound, and immediately, a cool, tingling sensation spread over the damaged skin, driving away the sting.
“How does that feel?”
“A bit better,” I admitted reluctantly. “Thanks.”
“You look tired.” The witch shot a wry glance up at me.
Nearby, Hyacinth tutted. “You will soon learn that Sister Sage is lacking in tact. What she means to say is that you have had quite an ordeal. You should rest, maybe take a nap.”
A nap. God, I wanted to relent, but Mum and Dad were undoubtedly beside themselves. The enormous bed did look inviting though.
As though Hyacinth sensed my argument, she continued, “My sisters and I will put our heads together while you sleep, and by this evening we will have a plan.”
An hour of sleep wouldn’t hurt. Perching in a tree like some ridiculous bird hadn’t been the most refreshing way to spend the night. Besides, if this world was as dangerous as everyone said it was, a plan wouldn’t go amiss.
I mulled it over as Sage finished smothering my cuts in paste. Not even the smallest of grazes was left untouched, right down to the blisters on my feet. When she’d finished, she bandaged my hands and knee. I examined her precise work, finding no cause for complaint as she packed away her things.
“We’ll leave you to get some rest,” Hyacinth offered, her voice soothing and soft.
“Don’t get the bandages wet,” Sage all but barked, “and don’t pick at them.”
If I hadn’t been exhausted, I might have rolled my eyes. What next? Would she whip out a cone of shame and collar me with it?
“I’ve left some clothes on the bench,” Hyacinth called as the witches retreated through the door. It clicked behind them.
I half expected to hear a key turn in the lock, but apparently, I wasn’t exactly a prisoner, and the door was left unbarred.
With a monumental effort, I rose from the warm embrace of the armchair and aimed for the bed. One hour. Just one hour.