Page 29 of The Noldrin Witch

In the week that had passed, Elise had already learned the ingredients of many potions. It took a special talent to invoke the forces of the other world and blend it all to a smooth finish, but she had already been warned about that.

A divinity of the magic world had to claim her. The price of becoming a witch, it seemed, was to detach oneself from the world of common folk. Elise found this less a sacrifice than a convenience, having no one to miss, and more regrettably, no one to miss her. At least now she had a roof secured and a trade to learn, an arrangement she found most promising.

After pulling on the thick woolen layer of her travel dress, she tucked her hair into a hood. She went to the kitchen, where Morgaine was surely waiting. Morgaine had said they would use a broom to reach their destination, and Elise’s excitement was only matched by her caution. She hoped that all the layers she had wrapped herself in would soften a bad landing or even a fall. She had even stuffed straw into her hood, which was drawn tight with a cord.

“Elise, shall we?” Morgaine called the moment Elise stepped out of the Tailor’s Room. The witch had been kind enough to move her mattress there, and it was now officially her room.

“At your word,” Elise said, her smile widening as she took in Morgaine wearing the dress she had made a week ago, the same scant design Elise herself had worn to the apothecary.

Morgaine looked absolutely stunning to Elise. If there was any truth to their resemblance, the witch wore the dress in ways she never could. Morgaine had the most striking figure Elise had ever seen, and she couldn’t help but wonder if such bold proportions were the work of magic.

“Have you brought your things?” Elise asked, glancing about and finding only a small cauldron hanging from Morgaine’s belt.

“Where we’re headed, you won’t need anything, my dear. I bring this only because every witch works better with her own cauldron. They’re finicky, much like mortals.” Morgaine patted the small cast-iron thing. “It shrinks and enlarges. Like certain things in life.”

Elise nodded. The remark of questionable refinement didn’t trouble her, and judging by how the trip was shaping, she had come to expect a steady supply of such moments.

“No need for alarm,” Morgaine said. “Wrap yourself in a blanket, if you must. It will make no difference.”

Elise wondered at Morgaine’s meaning, but being of a curious sort and not entirely averse to surprises, she held her ground and raised her chin.

“We must be going. The sun is sinking fast.”

“Ha,” Morgaine laughed. “That’s exactly what I’m waiting for. Only at night the shield from this world and the one beyond grows thin enough for my broom to awaken.”

“Is there anything else we need for the trip?” Elise asked as Morgaine sat by the fireplace.

“Pack some of those honey cakes you always keep. Those hags will wish they had a spell to fill their bellies twice over.”

*****

Elise and Morgaine had been flying for a couple of hours now. Morgaine sat fastened at the front of the broom while Elise divided her efforts between managing her skirts and staying aloft.

They had taken flight just after the last rays of sunlight. The breeze was just warm enough to take the edge off the rising winds. Morgaine had said the trip would take only a few hours, and Elise chose to believe that was not an approximation. She had never been one to complain, but between the turbulence of the journey and the uncertainty of the landing, she had already worked her way through every prayer at her disposal.

She heard Morgaine chuckle now and then whenever Elise tightened her grip on the shaft, until, out of a growing concern, she decided the more reliable hold was the witch’s waist.

The night was clear, and though the sun was long gone, the sky held enough light to trace the tops of the pines ahead.

Morgaine turned to her with a smirk. “We are almost there. I only hope your fingers are not permanently attached to my dress.”

Elise cleared her throat and loosened her grip. She lowered her gaze and soon spied a growing fire ahead. The strength of it was such that the breeze coming her way began to warm.

The broom gave a faint shriek before descending, then lurched so violently that Elise found herself in the air for a moment.

The landing, however soft, did little to trouble Morgaine. Once on the ground, the witch calmly smoothed her skirts and adjusted her bodice, as though determined not to let the lack of elegance spoil her entrance to wherever they were going.

They followed the warmth as one might follow the music into a royal ball. Elise pulled back her hood and did what she could to untangle her hair, but her efforts fell somewhat short beside Morgaine’s poise. The woman was the very picture of elegance. Had Elise not been with her during the rough journey, she might have believed the witch had been conveyed here in a carriage, with a small army of servants to set her to rights before the occasion.

Their entrance, though lacking a herald, was generously announced by the cries of a group of women.

The fire lighting the clearing was so impressive it left Elise without words. It rose as high as a three-story house and spread nearly as wide. She might have feared the whole forest would catch, but she trusted the magic of those present was keeping it in check.

Elise lowered her head as she walked behind Morgaine, prepared to pay whatever respects she could afford.

No sooner had they entered the crowded clearing than a group of women descended upon Morgaine with hugs and a cup of some steaming concoction.

“I can see what took you so long,” one woman with a patch over her eye said, grabbing Morgaine’s behind with a nod of approval. “Are these real?”