Chapter Five
T he rest of the day was quiet. Since Rowena decided my kitchen witch duties wouldn’t officially start until the next morning, I didn’t have any baking to do.
The problem was, Rowena put me to work cleaning instead.
I fought to hide my scowl as I watched her through the kitchen window, holding a broom in one hand and a dustpan in the other. She gets to make tea, I grumbled as I raked my broom across the worn hardwood. And I have to sweep the floors.
Thankfully, it was a proper broom with strong bristles – not one of those impractical cinnamon brooms from the general store. Within twenty minutes, all the dust and debris from the little kitchen was swept into a neat pile in the corner.
Once the sweeping was done, I wiped down the counters, scrubbed the sink basin, and emptied the oven’s ash pan. When the most important tasks were out of the way, I decided to tackle the cupboards.
And they were a mess. This Rune person clearly wasn’t the cleanest witch , I grumbled as I carefully plucked measuring cups and mixing spoons from the precariously stacked piles in each cabinet.
The ones on the bottom were covered in dust from lack of use, and my wolf nose twitched every time the particles got kicked up in the air.
Once I had the first cabinet emptied, I realized how grimy it was on the inside. The bottom was discolored and stained, and the shelf liner was peeling up in the corners. I decided to pull it off entirely, wincing as I did so, until a faint squeaking sound stopped me in my tracks.
Oh gods… not mice…
The kitchen cabinets were dirty, but not that dirty. If there was a rodent infestation, we were in big trouble.
My wolfish instincts pulsed in my mind, urging me to hunt down whatever was hiding in these cabinets. I blinked a few times, allowing my vision to adjust to the darkness, and crawled into the cabinet until I was in past my shoulders.
All I could smell was the thick, choking stench of dust. I sneezed, and a small cloud of it flurried up in my face. I grimaced.
There was another squeak, louder this time.
I reached into the back corner until my fingers touched the wooden sides of the cabinet. Nothing.
Where are you, little mouse?
I sneezed again, kicking up more dust. But this time, a small, swift breeze swept past my nose, trailing over my shoulder and out into the kitchen.
A breeze.
Inside a kitchen cabinet.
I froze as the wind picked up again, dancing in odd patterns through the cabinet, kicking up dust in its wake.
It looks like… it’s running…
I gasped as the wind gathered into a little ball in front of my face, swirling and twirling and whipping like a tornado as it began to take shape.
Ears formed, then paws, then a long, thin tail.
My mouth dropped open in awe. It was an air elemental. A tiny one, in the shape of a mouse.
“Well hello there,” I greeted with a wide grin. “At least you’re not the kind of mouse I was concerned about.”
The air elemental squeaked again, its little windy nose twitching. It even had whiskers made of tiny streams of air.
It looks hungry.
But I had no idea what to feed it. Fritzi eats ice chips, Mavro eats charcoal… what does an air elemental eat? I can’t exactly hand it a pleasant autumn breeze.
I crawled out of the cabinet, nearly bumping my head as I did so, and scoured the kitchen for food.
I was familiar with the old stereotype of mice eating cheese, but the thought of crawling back through the portal and being ankle-deep in freezing snow made my skin prickle.
Even if Fritzi was an adorable little helper.
After about ten minutes, I had several offerings for the little creature.
There were fresh apples in a wicker basket on the counter, so I scraped off a tiny piece and made a mental note to eat the rest of the apple later.
I also grabbed a shelled peanut out of a bag in the pantry and clipped a sprig of rosemary from Rowena’s potted herb garden.
“Okay, little air elemental,” I said as I crawled back into the cabinet. The mouse was still waiting for me, standing up on two paws with its gossamer body moving and swirling. I set the three bits of food down in front of it. “Let’s see if you like any of these.”
The elemental dropped back down on all fours and approached the offerings. It took a big sniff of the rosemary and let out a loud squeak, backing away as it made a noise somewhere between a choke and a cough.
“Oh, oops. Okay, you don’t like rosemary.” I grabbed the tiny sprig and tossed it outside the cabinet. “How about the other two?”
The mouse was more intrigued by the apple piece, grabbing it in its paws and holding it up to its mouth.
I giggled as it took tiny nibbles out of the fruit, moving it left and right as if it were a corn cob.
But the apple piece was very small, and once the mouse made it down to the outer skin, it set the fruit aside.
The mouse had eaten almost the entire apple piece, but its reaction to the piece of fruit paled in comparison to when it noticed the peanut. The elemental squealed with joy, making quick work of chewing away the outer shell and happily chowing down on the nuts inside.
“Okay, little elemental,” I instructed as it finished off the last of the peanut. It was gone in less than half the time it took the mouse to eat the apple. “Now that you’re nice and full, I have a task for you.”
It tossed away the empty peanut shell and looked at me, its ears perked up and nose held high. I smiled. It was eagerly awaiting my instructions.
“Can you go through these–” I crawled partway out and gestured toward the rest of the cabinets. “–and blow away the rest of the dust?”
I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping it wasn’t too big of an ask for such a tiny elemental. To my relief, the mouse squeaked enthusiastically and bounded out of the cabinet, leaving a faint breeze in its wake.
I opened all the cabinets below the countertop, and the mouse stood in front of them. It reared back, took a deep breath, and unleashed a cone-shaped wave of air that swept across the hardwood into the cabinets.
But it was no ordinary gust of air. As soon as the breeze reached the inside of the cabinets, it scurried around as if it had a life of its own, scouring every corner and leaping up the tall stacks of haphazard cooking supplies.
Within thirty seconds, the wind scoured every corner, sweeping all the grime and dirt into a thick line on the floor.
The elemental looked proud of itself. I gave the little creature a warm smile, but internally I was scolding myself for not waiting to sweep the floors until after I did this.
“Thank you little–” I froze. “–guy?”
The air elemental shook its head.
“Girl?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay, you’re a female elemental. I’ll call you… Windy? Breezy?”
The elemental cocked its head.
I grimaced. “Too on the nose?”
She nodded.
“Okay… I may have to think about this one.” I knelt down, avoiding the dust piles, and offered a finger to the little mouse. “Thank you for your help today.”
The elemental nodded enthusiastically, placing her tiny paw against my finger. Then, the gusts that made up her little body grew stronger and faster, coming apart like frayed thread, until she burst into a puff of air.
She was gone. But I knew for elementals, physical existence was relative. She’d be back later.
I sighed, smiling warmly at my encounter with the little elemental.
On Hollenboro, we had plenty of elementals, though our relationship with them was different.
They were elusive, wild beings that lived separately from us werewolves.
The only time we saw them was when we were out on hunts.
There were mossy plant elementals shaped like squirrels, chunky rock elementals shaped like frogs, and playful water elementals shaped like otters.
Once, as a child, I even saw an enormous earth elemental shaped like a bear, its paws dripping mud as it walked.
They were always a beautiful, ethereal sight.
But werewolves were a stubborn, self-reliant bunch, and they frowned upon the symbiotic relationship witches had with the elementals.
According to my father, witches took advantage of the majestic creatures, treating them like servants or pets.
Now that I was immersed in a witch village, I noticed the relationship was far more complex.
When I’d asked for help from Fritzi, Mavro, and my new unnamed mouse friend, they were more than happy to provide it.
When they helped me, they were truly in their element.
I scoffed. Now that’s a terrible pun.
Just as I finished sweeping up the dust from the cabinets, I heard a loud wooden groan, and I turned around to see Rowena walking through the kitchen door.
I immediately snapped to attention, grateful my little mouse friend was gone.
I didn’t know if I was allowed to be fraternizing with strange elementals.
Rowena was quiet at first, her eyes drifting across the floors and flicking up to the ceiling. Heat prickled the back of my neck as I realized she was inspecting my cleaning job.
“Looks good in here,” she commented, in that same flat, reserved tone. It was difficult to tell if she truly was happy with my work.
“Thanks.” I nodded, forcing a wide smile. Rowena didn’t return it, but I swore I saw the tiniest spark of admiration in her eyes.
I studied the strange witch. Her face was hard as stone, but as I continued gazing into those dark eyes, I felt flickers of her hidden emotions. Intrigue. Curiosity. A desire for connection. And of course, that fierce, mysterious protectiveness, roaring like an ever-burning flame.
As my mind gently prodded hers, attempting to fit all the little pieces together into a cohesive picture, I gained more insight into her personality.
She wasn’t reserved by her own choice – it was forced upon her.
I just couldn’t figure out why.