Giselle shielded her eyes. “The weather witches are utterly careless these days. You’d think they’d at least get the time of day right.” She whipped out a cotton scarf and wrapped it around her head and neck. At my questioning look, she said, “I’m keeping a low profile for now,” and threw me a wink.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask why.
The awe of being surrounded by a magical simulation of outdoors didn’t quite wear off until Giselle led us past the farmlands where a few witches were scattered about. They were too far away to acknowledge us, which I was glad of. The faster we finished our business, the better.
When the fields ended, we stopped before a modest three-story building, painted a soft robin’s egg blue. Bright pink flowers bloomed on either side of a yellowish-orange door.
“Here we are,” Giselle said, opening the door and kicking off her boots at the threshold.
We passed through a neat sitting room of beige and green and entered another space. It looked like a kitchen, with a stove, wooden counters, and overhead cabinets. A bay window overlooked a patch of grass and a neat herb garden. Along the walls were shelves of pots and pans, jars of strange liquids, dusty old books, and dried plants I didn’t recognize. The fireplace was filled with chopped wood and kindling.
“Here’s the kitchen and potion-making room,” Giselle said. “Lovely little place, isn’t it?”
I nodded. There was a cozy charm to the home that the palace lacked.
Bennett jumped down from my arms and wandered about the space, the tip of his tail curling in curiosity. I watched him for a moment. A traitorous part of me thought it was almost nice having him this way. He stayed close and his thoughts were easy to decipher. Plus, hedidmake an adorable cat.
Giselle took my elbow. “Come! Let’s get you into potion-making gear.”
WE LEFT BENNETT TOexplore. Giselle led me to an even smaller room with a low ceiling. Beneath a square window with yellow curtains was a narrow bed with matching bedsheets. Sewing supplies were strewn haphazardly across the floor.
“Is this your room?” I asked as Giselle helped me out of my dressing gown.
“Temporarily,” she said with a shrug. “I try not to visit too often.”
My gown pooled to the floor. I turned and reached for the clothes Giselle laid out on the bed. A linen blouse, an apron, boots, and a pair of...
“Trousers?” I rummaged through the pile again, but there wasn’t a petticoat to be seen. “You can’t be serious. That,” I said, pointing to the garment, “will breed scandal.”
“Not any more than your nightgown,” Giselle said pointedly. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Luckily Sister Scarlett doesn’t take weekly trips to Witch Village. And us witch girls wear trousers all the time. You’ll fit right in.”
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t need to be reminded of Sister Scarlett’s articles, but I felt some relief knowing she couldn’t see me here.
Giselle waited for me outside as I dressed. A few minutes later, I managed to walk out in the ensemble. The blouse and apron were comfortable enough, but the trousers pinched at unfamiliar areas. I sorely missed the freedom of skirts.
Giselle beamed when I stiffly reentered the potion room. “Look at you, looking like a proper witch and all!”
Bennett sat on a bench, gingerly licking a paw. He paused at the sight of me.
“This proper witch would like to get started before her fiancé picks up any more feline habits,” I said flatly.
Giselle rummaged through a small shelf above the counter, pulled out a dusty handbook, and flipped it open to a bookmarked page. “Alright. Here’s what you’re making.” She slid it over to me.
I began to read aloud. “‘This antidote was passed down from my great aunt Martha who loved to quilt, but sadly passed away in the year of—’”
“Forget the backstory.” Giselle snatched the book back and turned the page. “Here.”
Animal Transformation Potion Antidote
A one hour nap is recommended after the subject ingests the following antidote.
Ingredients:
1 cup of water
4 sprigs of nixgrass
3 sheets of broadleaf gelatin
