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 on each side of the door. 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.
