10
A letter came for me that night as Genevieve and I were getting ready for bed.
“Here you go,” Tori said, tossing the rumpled envelope on my mattress. “Whoever sent it must’ve been in a rush.”
“Who is it from?” Genevieve asked as Tori went off yawning to her own room.
I recognized my nanny’s handwriting from the front of the envelope. “It’s from Theodora,” I said, trying to sound casual. Something told me that it wasn’t merely inquiries about the Season.
“Are you going to read it now?” my stepsister asked, stifling a yawn.
I shook my head with a tight smile. “Maybe tomorrow,” I said. I blew out the candle on our bedside table. “ Good night, Gen.”
“Good night.”
I waited until my stepsister’s breathing evened before pulling out the letter. Shifting closer to the sliver of moonlight by the window, I unfolded the parchment.
Amarante,
Rowena and I hope you are doing well. Remember, you must never reveal your secret to anybody. But do not worry. We know where the witch who can remove your magic is. Meet us at the outskirts of the city tomorrow afternoon.
Also, attached is a letter from Master Flora. I know you have been wanting to talk to him.
Best of luck,
Theodora
There was another letter inside the envelope, this time covered with Papa’s neat script.
My flower,
It pains me to write to you about this when I know I should be there in person. What Theodora and Rowena say is true. I wanted to tell you about the circumstances of your birth the moment your Mama passed, but I was afraid. And selfish. I knew revealing the truth so late would change everything between us or even worse, put you in danger. I fear I will ramble on more than necessary if I continue writing. I will head back to Delibera as soon as I handle some business matters. Until then, take care and stay safe.
Much love,
Your Papa
My throat tightened. Business matters always came first, so I wasn’t surprised. How long until I’d see him again? A month? Two months? It was much too long to wait. I stuffed the letters beneath my pillow and shut my eyes.
THE CITY OF DELIBERA normally had mild weather year-round, but as I took a horse chaise to the outskirts of the city, the sun was sweltering. Mixed with the jitters that plagued me all morning, the heat was positively nauseating by the time I arrived. Theodora and Rowena stood near the familiar cluster of buildings as I made my way toward them. Their faces were pinched.
“How are you, dear?” Theodora asked, holding me at arms-length as if she were looking for fatal wounds.
I ignored the tightness of my stomach and the sweat soaking the back of my dress. “I’m fine,” I said. “Are we going to see the witch?”
Both of them winced. “Not so loud,” Rowena said, eyes flickering to a few passersby.
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Does she live here?”
“Not really,” Rowena said. She fiddled with the loose threads on her sleeves. “It’s a lot to explain.”
“I have all the time in the world.”
Rowena sighed and took my elbow. We walked down the street, the two of them flanking me like they used to when I took walks as a child.
“The thing is, we have to go through another witch to find her,” Rowena said. “The former is a gatekeeper of sorts.”
I cocked my head. “Like a bodyguard? Do all witches have another witch guarding them?”
Theodora made a face that told me I had said something extremely foolish. “I’m sorry, dear. This must be confusing you.”
Rowena snorted. “Never mind that. Let’s hurry.”
A short minute’s walk led us to a very familiar building.
“The post office?” I asked, staring at the painted blue door.
Rowena shook her head and opened the one beside it. I exhaled. Of course. Miriam’s Terrariums.
This time, the snail lady was draped in shawls of mustard and tangerine. A gaudy turquoise turban sat on her head and wobbled when she threw out her arms to welcome us. “Hello and welcome to...oh, it’s you two again.”
“Yes, Miriam,” Theodora said, sounding almost annoyed. “We need to use the passageway.”
“Really? I thought you swore never to step foot in the village again,” Miriam lowered her arms and stared at me. “Unless it’s because of her?”
Rowena stepped forward, blocking me from view. “That’s none of your business. And we need you to take us to Lana.”
Miriam tutted. “Ah, then it is my business,” she said, throwing yet another shawl over her shoulder. Her brass bangles clinked together as she crossed her arms. “No one has passed through here for sixteen years.”
“Which is exactly why we need to pass now,” Theodora said.
The two stared at each other until Miriam broke her gaze.
“Very well,” she said with a scoff. “Come along then.” She strode through a beaded curtain and motioned for us to follow.
Behind the curtain was a small sitting area. We wove through the poufs and rugs that littered the floor, stopping in front of a poorly woven tapestry. Miriam lifted it out of the way, revealing a rectangular piece of brick wall. She pressed in five bricks in no particular order. The wall rolled back with a rumble. Before I knew it, a set of dusty stairs appeared, leading to a dark pit below.
“There’s a passageway in your shop,” I said stupidly.
Theodora patted my shoulder. “It leads to Witch Village,” she said. “There are few such passageways throughout Olderea. This one happens to be the closest. ”
“They require very complex magic to make,” Rowena continued. “Witches with great skill can materialize one on the spot and it’ll take them wherever they wish. Most, however, can only use preexisting ones like this.”
I suppose my nannies thought spouting trivia would distract me from the fear boiling in my gut and the nerves weakening my legs.
“Yes, yes. Hurry now,” Miriam said, shooing us forward.
“You’re not bringing a lamp?” I said in a small voice.
Miriam shrugged and grabbed a lamp from a low table. The light didn’t penetrate far into the dense darkness, but it was still some comfort as Theodora and Rowena led me down the stairs. The air cooled as we descended. When the stairs ended, the ground beneath was rough and uneven. Theodora and Rowena’s hands in mine were my only source of comfort.
“I can’t see a thing,” I said. Miriam’s lantern was nothing but a weak blob of light, as if the darkness was suffocating the flame.
“That’s the point,” Rowena said in a cheery voice. I knew she was speaking so for my sake. “It discourages trespassers.”
“How is anyone supposed to see where they’re going?” I muttered.
“There are no real directions,” Theodora said, squeezing my fingers. “We just have to walk forward until the passageway opens for us.”
“Oh.”
So this was magic. I couldn’t help feeling intimidated as we proceeded blindly forward.
Eventually, a rectangular outline of light appeared before us, almost like a door.
“Ah, here we are,” Miriam said. And then the darkness melted away .
A soft gust of wind swept in the scent of dew and freshly cut grass. I stumbled back into Rowena, appalled at what lay before me. Somehow, we were outside before a village on a hill. Huts and shacks spiraled up the mound, reaching the pinnacle in a chaotic crowd of straw, wood, and specks of green where trees and flora sprouted out from the crevices. It looked like a squatter village or an anthill, not quite man-made, but not quite natural either. I squinted up at the wisps of clouds floating through a cerulean sky.
“Welcome to Witch Village,” Miriam said, discarding the lamp behind her. The cave from which we came had disappeared completely, leaving only a vast expanse of green fields that extended to the horizon.
“I thought the tunnel was underground,” I said breathlessly. “We’re outside.”
She cackled, shaking her head. “Humans. I forget you grew up in ignorance.”
“She grew up protected,” Theodora said testily. “Now, show us to Lana, as you promised.”
Miriam harrumphed. “Alright, alright. Come with me.”
My nannies and I followed, traversing the field to the winding dirt path that led into the village. The path grew increasingly cramped as ramshackle structures and overgrown gardens crowded in. Laundry from clotheslines billowed gently in the breeze.
Rowena craned her neck to a short cottage behind us with a round yellow door, an unreadable look on her face.
“Want to stop for a visit?” Miriam asked without looking back.
“No,” Rowena said. Miriam grunted.
I stole a look at Rowena, but I couldn’t glean anything from her now impassive expression .
For the first time, I realized my nannies had lives outside of Papa’s manor. Lives that started here, no doubt. Why did they leave to care for me?
Perhaps they would tell me another time.
“Where is everyone?” I asked instead. Other than the overflowing flora, the five of us were the only living souls to be seen.
Miriam glanced back at me. There was a glimmer of something in her eye. “We witches are reclusive people. Not as social as humans. Not as strict, either. Your rules and regulations are frivolous to us,” she said. “But what you see here began when King Humphrey started the Non-Magic Age.”
I looked up. The history of King Humphrey had never been taught to me from a witch’s perspective.
“Two generations ago, to be precise,” Theodora said from behind me. She sounded tired, but not from the exercise. “The witch Navierre was accused of poisoning the royal family after the sudden death of Queen Heather. Not a good look for the head of the royal inspection team.”
“The trial was conducted in private. No doubt King Humphrey wanted to hide the lack of evidence.” Rowena huffed. “Lucky for him, malicious rumors were beginning to spread about magic and witches anyway, so it wasn’t difficult to condemn Navierre. And subsequently, all of witchkind.”
“As you know, Olderea’s Non-Magic Age meant that magic and all who associated with it were forbidden from freely roaming the lands. Plants with magical properties were uprooted. Witches were forced to leave. Most of us eventually went underground as there was no room for us in other kingdoms and no one wanted to transport witches,” Theodora said. “Still, some stayed above, either to guard our passageways or for personal duties.” She shared a look with Rowena .
“And you just let them push you out?” I said, perplexed. “Don’t you have magic?”
“Magic is not for warfare. And I told you, witches are a passive people,” Miriam said. “Passive to a fault.”
Something akin to injustice swelled in my chest. “Did no one ask King Maximus to change things when he took the throne?”
Miriam laughed heartily. “Now you’re getting some witch pride. Alas, just as magic runs in witch blood, hatred for magic runs in the royals’,” she said. “It is because witches have powers they could never possess. Fear and jealousy are only natural for humans in authority. I am afraid witches will never see the light of day for a long time.”
“But can’t they come aboveground whenever they like?” I asked. “They could disguise themselves like you.”
Miriam shook her head. “Guardians of passageways are very choosy about who they let in or out,” she said. “Letting through one wrong person could lead to chaos.”
“You would know, Miriam,” Rowena grumbled.
The snail seller scowled. “That was a special case,” she said. “And so it seems is this one.”
I waited for her to explain, but she didn’t say anything more. There was still one question that nagged me, though I was afraid to ask it.
“So, who was my mother?”
The silence suddenly felt uncomfortable.
“Her name was Seraphina,” Theodora finally said.
She didn’t continue and though a million more questions followed, I didn’t feel it right to ask.
Seraphina.
At least that much I knew about her.
We walked for some minutes, the path growing increasingly steep as we approached the top of the hill. Miriam finally stopped before a cottage with circular windows. A neat garden lined the perimeter and extended to the back. Miriam stepped aside.
“Here we are. Go ahead and knock,” she said, giving a nod to my nannies.
“Any particular reason you won’t?” Rowena asked.
Miriam frowned. “You know how Lana is with visitors. I have no wish to experience another wart jinx. It was horrible for my business and took months to wear off. People actually thought I was a witch.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake woman, just knock. Everyone knows a wart jinx can easily be fixed with fig root potion...”
Voices faded away as I stared at the door before me. It was emitting a soft aura the color of Papa’s favorite sangria. Almost unconsciously, I stepped forward and touched the brass knob. Hot and cold prickles ran up my arm. The knob turned freely in my hand.
The three women stopped bickering as the door swung open. They looked at me in surprise.
“It was unlocked,” I said.
“Oh.” Miriam pursed her lips. “I could’ve sworn she put some type of nasty enchantment on it this time. Ah well. In we go.”
I cautiously trailed behind her. It didn’t seem wise to enter a witch’s territory without permission. Especially a witch who was expected to put jinxes on her door. I shuddered, wondering who this Lana was and why, out of all the witches in Witch Village, my nannies chose her to help me.
It was considerably darker past the threshold, but bright enough to observe that the interior was circular and filled with strange knickknacks. The smell that lingered in the air was both acrid and sweet. A bubbling noise came from the closed door before us, underneath which a pale purple light shone.
The door burst open and the purple light flooded our surroundings. I staggered into Theodora, blinded.
A woman’s firm voice reverberated through the room. “Intruders! State your business or prepare to be melted.”
“Relax, Lana. So dramatic.”
“Miriam.” The name was spat out in distaste. “I thought you learned your lesson from the warts.”
The snail shop owner sniffed and stepped aside. “I’m here with guests.”
My vision recovered. Before me stood a tall, middle-aged woman, a bucket of something bright and bubbling slung over her shoulder. Her face reminded me somewhat of a strict school teacher, pinched and scowling.
“Who is this?” she asked when her gaze met mine. I froze.
“She’s half witch,” Theodora said. “She wants her magic removed.”
There was a long, drawn out silence that I longed for someone to break. I stole a glance over Miriam’s shoulder. Lana was no longer scowling, but her expression was nowhere near welcoming.
“So it’s you two. Here to cause trouble again, aren’t you? Haven’t you done enough?” the witch said bitterly.
Rowena bristled.
“If you will just listen,” she said, stepping forward. “I know we haven’t been on the best of terms, but—”
Lana barked out a sharp laugh. “That is an understatement,” she said. Swinging the bucket of liquid from her shoulder, she walked back to the room from which she came. My nannies followed, and I with them .
“I’ll wait out here,” Miriam said with a shrug.
If the previous room was odd, this one was even stranger. It was about the size of a large closet, but instead of clothes, it held a red brick oven and a myriad of shelves that spiraled up and up the rounded walls.
A large cauldron filled with something thick and viscous hung above a fire. Lana poured the contents of the bucket inside and to my amazement, the solution turned clear and fluid like water.
“I know you still have your grudges,” Rowena said. “But Amarante needs your help. Just make a potion to remove her magic.”
“And what do I get in return?” Lana said, hardly sparing any of us a glance. She took a pinch of something from a ceramic jar and sprinkled it over the cauldron. Pops of blue smoke erupted from the solution and disappeared in the air.
“Redemption,” Theodora said stiffly.
Lana slammed the ceramic jar on the counter, rattling the shelves above her. “I do not take custom orders,” she said. Her green eyes flicked over me. “Especially not from humans.”
“She is half witch,” Rowena said, scowling. “You know perfectly well that she is.”
“And you are ruining my business,” Lana said. “I sell what I wish to sell at the Witch Market and even there I don’t get enough for my work.”
“Listen—”
“Move,” Lana said. “All of you. Except you, girl. Come here.”
Theodora and Rowena backed away, dissolving my protective wall. I was exposed to Lana’s scrutiny yet again.
I forced my legs to step forward.
“Can you tell me what potion this is?” Lana asked.
I glanced at the contents of the cauldron, noticing that the bubbling had stopped. The liquid was now the color of amber, shimmering and shifting in the firelight.
I shook my head.
“What about this? Do you know what this is?” She held the ceramic jar before me. It looked like tea leaves, but the smell was high and fruity. Blue flashed before my vision. Repair.
I shook my head again, my vision spinning from the scent. My mouth felt glued shut, as if I couldn’t move a muscle under her glare.
Lana sneered. “I see.” She filled a rounded glass jar with the contents of the cauldron. “Any witch would know that this is a basic antidote for mild poisoning. You, however, had no such knowledge.”
I watched the liquid swirl inside the glass, too humiliated to say anything. Rowena wrapped her arm around my shoulders.
Lana corked the bottle. “I’ve seen enough to know that this girl is not a witch,” she said. “Now get out. Do not trespass again unless you have a death wish.”
“How could you?” Rowena said. “You owe it to Sera—”
“Do not speak her name!” Lana shouted. The bottles on her shelves rattled.
Rowena fumed. I cowered behind her.
“Very well, Lana,” Theodora said, frowning. “But I daresay you’ll regret it. ”
We found ourselves once again trudging along the dirt path, this time downhill. Miriam gave a loud sigh.
“I told you she was testy,” the snail seller said.
“Typical,” Rowena growled. “I never liked her.”
Theodora shook her head. “Never mind that. What’s important is that Amarante figures out how keep her powers under control.”
“Can’t you three help me?” I asked. “Can’t you teach me how to use magic?”
They all exchanged glances. I was getting tired of not knowing what was going on.
“Are you sure you want to use it?” Rowena said, furrowing her brows. “It could be dangerous.”
“If there’s no other option, yes,” I said. “I only need to know enough to keep it hidden. Like you and Theodora.”
Theodora sighed. “No, I’m afraid we cannot teach you.” She looked to Miriam. “Tell her why.”
Miriam nodded. “Witches are split into two categories, generally speaking. Herbwitches have an affinity to the living world, to animals and plants. Charmwitches specialize in nonorganic magic, like enchantments and jinxes and protective spells,” Miriam said. “You, my girl, are an herbwitch.”
“What kind of witch are you?” I said.
“Me?” She winked. “I’m a businesswoman.”
“What Miriam is trying to say,” Theodora said irritably, “is that each witch specializes in magic from the organic world or the inorganic world. This simulation of outdoors, for example, is a blend of both kinds of magic.”
I shook my head, barely understanding. “What do herbwitches do, exactly?”
“The most common is potions and plant magic,” Rowena said. “Even then, each witch’s magic is unique and works differently. For example, some witches can talk to plants. Some can merely grow them out of thin air.”
“So you can’t tell me what the colors in my vision mean?” I said.
Rowena shook her head. “That’s for you to figure out, dear.”
When we finally reached the field at the base of the village, Miriam summoned the passageway by mumbling a few words. I figured from that she was a charmwitch.
We traversed the tunnel yet again. This time I was too overwhelmed to be afraid of the darkness. I didn’t know what to make of the stillness of Witch Village, Lana’s anger, or Seraphina, the name that seemed to cause so much trouble.