“It’s a poor meal compared to what you are used to, I’m sure,” Lana said.
“Not at all, really. It was...er, delicious.”
She laughed. I noted that it was the first time she had done so in my presence. “There is no need to lie. I am perfectly aware of how tasteless it was.”
“The fish was fine,” I said. It was. I had eaten my portion much too quickly after discovering that it had ten times more flavor than anything else.
“That’s because I got that from the Market,” Lana said.
I was almost hesitant to ask. “The Witch Market?”
Lana nodded. “Illegal as it may be, we depend on it, especially for food. There are many shortcomings to living underground, no matter how much we make it look like the outside world.” She glanced out of the small round window near the door, an almost wistful expression overtaking her face.
“Do witches get all their food from humans?”
“No. We have land for growing crops at the perimeter of the village. It is not nearly enough to feed an entire village year-round, so we use magic to grow more and grow faster. And well...one could imagine the quality of rushed crops,” Lana said.
So that’s why I wasn’t full after eating so much. It never occurred to me that magic couldn’t accomplish everything.
Curiosity got the best of me. “When was the last time you went outside?” I asked. Lana’s face stiffened.
“Last week,” she said briskly. “To the Market.”
She went to the counter again. She had bottled up the antidote in small glass jars and began putting them in a shallow wooden crate. “Speaking of which, we are going next week. I’ll need someone to carry my wares.”
“Do you often sell at the Market?” I asked.
Lana turned, hands on her hips. “Many of us have to, unless we wish to have bland food and no supplies.”
I felt ignorant and scolded as Lana loaded her wares. I had always heard the Witch Market referred to in whispers, a place where twisted people went to purchase twisted things. But now, despite not having been there, I saw it in a different light.
I decided to speak again. “But, if it’s illegal, how do you manage to go?”
Lana’s lips pinched. “As powerful as your king is, he cannot control everything.”
Your king. Not our. I supposed it was fitting, as witches have technically been banished from the kingdom. Yet it made me wonder if witches had their own sort of leadership, and if so, who? I asked Lana just that, and she laughed again, but this time it was mirthless.
“We have no king and no leader. We are a reclusive, independent people.”
I recalled Miriam’s words. Witches were reclusive to a fault. But I sensed, for some reason or other, that Lana did not take well to the snail seller’s ideas.
