Perhaps it would be a blessing to get it over and done with rather than continuing to waste away in the sorcerer’s House. I decided to risk it, and I made my way to the door. I hadn’t opened the big slab of black since I had arrived.
When I did, it let in a mess of noise and light and colors as the daylight sliced across my eyeballs like one of Da’s best filleting knives. I blinked to clear my vision, bracing myself to see one of the sorceresses, but instead saw a weaselly little man clutching a leather purse and looking just as scared as myself. He actually jumped when I looked directly at him.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Who areyou?”he demanded, and I couldn’t blame him. I was the last person you’d expect to see in such a grand place. He seemed to collect himself and spoke more calmly. “I’m here for a charm,” he said.
“Oh yes,” said Cornelius, who had appeared from somewhere around the region of my feet. “Haven’t seen one of these in a while.”
If the man had been jumpy before, he was practically vibrating now that he had heard Cornelius speak. I held the door open a little wider. “I suppose you’d better come in,” I said.
Cornelius led the way to the throne room, as he had when I arrived. The House behaved itself, and kept everything in the same places as usual, and didn’t play any tricks with the floor. The way the visitor acted, however, you’d have thought trapdoors were popping open all around him. I’d never seen anyone so spooked, certainly not by a gloomy black corridor.
“In there,” I told him, pointing to the throne room door. The man looked like he was about to melt into a puddle on the spot.
“Aren’t you coming in with me?” he asked in a strangled voice.
I exchanged glances with Cornelius.
“All right, I suppose,” I said. I must confess, I was interested. I pushed open the door and found the sorcerer lounging in that great black chair, as usual, juggling fireballs with one hand and propping his chin up with the other.
“What?” he said ungraciously.
“Visitor,” I said.
“Where?”
I realized the man was cringing behind me. It was hard to tell how tall he actually was, what with all the shaking and cowering.
“Pull yourself together,” I said over my shoulder.
The man poked his head out and licked his dry lips. “Greetings, Your Highness,” he said.
I almost snorted.
“What?” said Sylvester again. “I’m busy.”
“I need a ... a potion, Your Highness.”
Sylvester sighed. He let the fiery juggling balls fall one by one into his open palm, and then closed his fist in a puff of smoke.
“What sort of potion?”
“Er ...” the man glanced at me. I rolled my eyes. “I’ll wait outside,” I huffed, and stomped out, closing the door behind me. Cornelius was just outside in the corridor, sitting up with his tail tucked neatly over his front feet.
It was bound to be an aphrodisiac the fellow was after, I speculated—that, or something to rid himself of an unwanted babe. I had chatted with Goodwife Tilly now and then, back in the village, and she had said that whenever someone came to the herbal shop through the back door, it was always to ask for one of those two things. She insisted she didn’t sell them, but I wasn’t too sure.
“Does this happen often?” I asked Cornelius.
“No. They’re always like that, though, when they do come.”
The door swung open behind me, sooner than I had expected, and I had to shuffle out of the way. The man emerged, wide-eyed and clutching a little velvet drawstring bag so tightly that his knuckles were bloodless.
“All done?” I asked.
He nodded, seemingly unable to speak. He stood there staring at me until I realized he meant for me to show him out.
“Oh. This way.”
