I nodded eagerly. Animals were much more appealing than a root. Homily, Father’s barn owl familiar, was always watching me and screeched whenever I got too close to him when my parents weren’t around, but he let me pet him sometimes around Father. He scared me, but I understood that I scared him too. I preferred Mother’s snake, Chester. He liked to wrap around me while I napped. “I want a skunk.”
“A skunk!” Mother barked. “Why, whatever for?”
“They’re cute.”
“Well, we’ll see. Although I would recommend a cat before a skunk.”
I shrugged, disappointed. “I suppose that would be nice too.”
A boom from the direction of the kitchen drew our attention and I hurried after Mother as she sprinted to the back door of our house, purple smoke pouring out. I wrinkled my nose at the sugary-sweet scent as we approached, which turned into that of burned popcorn a moment later.
“Darling!” Mother called out as she waved a hand before her face and lingered on the threshold, gazing inside. “Are you all right?”
“All right?” Father appeared inside, beaming. “Am I all right? Of course I’m all right!” He held up a glass vial containing a pink liquid with triumph. “I did it!”
“Oh, darling.” Mother clasped her hands together. “That’s wonderful news. I’m so proud of you.”
“What is it?” I asked excitedly as I peered at the vial.
“A potion that completely and utterly wipes out all traces of earwax.”
I blinked, then glanced at Mother uncertainly. The smile on her face suddenly appeared false.
“Earwax?” she repeated, as if she hadn’t heard right. Perhaps she needed some of the potion.
Father snorted at her look. “Of course! Earwax can be terribly debilitating. Did you know that I saw a man in Sussex who thought he’d gone deaf, and when I tried a spell to regrow his eardrum, I realized that both of his ears were stuffed with wax?”
“You don’t say.” Mother nodded along, with less enthusiasm. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, we can’t find ways for people to bleed acid every week, can we, dear?”
My eyes widened. “You can make people bleed acid?”
Mother bent over and ruffled my hair. “Don’t you worry about that now. Apparently that’s nothing when compared to ridding us of invasive earwax.”
I nodded seriously. “The sirens will be glad for Dad’s potion.”
Mother blinked. “The sirens will …” She threw back her head and laughed, the sort of deep witch laugh that sent human children scurrying. I grinned at the hearty sound as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Do you hear that, darling?” she called back to Father. “You’ve done the sirens quite a service today.”
I awoke with a start, but smiling as the memories that had populated my dreams lingered. Even as they faded like smoke, they wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I yawned. The light in the room was already bright. I’d slept in. It was rare that I had the luxury. There were always herbs to gather or exotic plants to track down.
The sound of a hacking cough made me blink, as I realized that was what had awakened me.
I sat up quickly, blinking away sleep, to watch Narcissa cough up a black blob of fur, coated in saliva, onto the foot of the bed. “Narcissa,” I groaned, pushing the comforter aside. “Are you feeling …” I took in the four other balls of black fur.
Therese croaked from my nightstand. “Good morning, Mr. Witch,” she said brightly. “I’m sorry to say that Narcissa seems rather under the weather right now. But I think it’s my fault. I wouldn’t feel well if I licked me either.”
Eyes narrowed, I stood and loomed over Narcissa. “You were contemplating eating Therese, were you?” I gestured to the furballs. “Multiple times?”
Narcissa slumped as she finished spitting up the latest ball of fur. “It’s hardly my fault. It’s past noon and I haven’t had my breakfast. You’re all trying to starve me!”
“Are you all right, Therese?”
Therese hopped onto my lap. “She wasn’t really going to eat me, Mr. Witch. She was teasing. Like a game.”
I grunted, not believing her framing of events in the slightest. If Narcissa hadn’t thought about eating Therese, there would be no furballs. I pointed a finger at Narcissa. “Bad kitty. You’re getting what you deserve. We do not eat friends.”
“Friends?” Therese squealed. “Are we all friends? I’ve never had a proper friend before.”
“You don’t say. I can’t imagine why.”
