by I.D. Blind
~ * ~
Midnight struck. Everyone in the blue castle was asleep except for Electra, who writhed in bed, dozed for half an hour, then woke up and continued to think about the wrong spell. She sat up in bed for a whole hour, then got out and went to the library. Now that she knew what they had evoked, she took every book about dark creatures and hastily thumbed through them, looking for anything helpful.
Among the dozens of books there was one, telling that sharp objects became blunt and mirrors cracked when a dark force appeared; another one warned about transformations, and a small pamphlet described the herbs that could keep the evoked dark creatures away for some time. Electra grabbed the small book and flounced to the pantry, looking for hemlock, roots of sour grass, and fruits of mistletoe. Grinded together, packed in small bags, and hung over an old oak, they might keep the Ghost away until the new moon. She prepared nearly a dozen bags with the plants, put them inside a wicker basket and at dawn, when everyone was still asleep, left the castle.
Electra walked out onto the road, which led her up the hill and thence to a clearing. It had been a while since she had left the house so early; she had managed to forget how beautiful Hollow was in an early autumn morning. Walking through the glade, Electra squinted at the horizon pierced with the rays of the sun. She saw houses already bathed in the first rays, and those to whom the light hadn’t yet reached.
When she came upon the highest oak at the edge of the forest, Electra began tying the bags on its curved branches. Make him disappear for a while, she pleaded. Then they would banish that creature, and would never ever step back into the pantry. And would never again disobey their aunt. And would also never conjure. A life without witchcraft would be boring, but a boring life was better than so much trouble.
Electra stepped back and looked at the tall oak with the bags hanging down the branches. She lay down on the ground where, surrounded by yellow grass and fallen leaves, she felt protected and hidden from everyone. The place was silent; only the leaves, when shaken by the gentle breeze, swished and rustled. Electra smiled faintly when the morning air caressed her weary eyes. She would happily remain there, would bury herself in the long autumn grass and take a nap at last. She looked up at the sky through the branches of the trees. Endless white clouds were glistening in the sun. Feeling calmer and overtaken by fatigue, Electra lowered her eyelids and fell asleep.
16. The Maiden and the Minstrel Knight
Eric’s day started the same way: helping Uncle Albert around the house, feeding the horse, painting the fence, and sharpening the sickle and knives. After completing his chores, he picked up his guitar and walked to a meadow on the West Bank. He had been going there for the last few days, sitting under a willow tree and practicing music. He was comfortable playing there; he could sit in the meadow for hours, strum the guitar and not worry about tiring his relatives.
Passing under the maple’s branches, Eric spotted a green speck upon the grass. Without taking his eyes off the ground, he paced to the big oak, and to his surprise, the green stain turned out to be a dress. Eric stared at the girl lying on the grass. Her eyes were closed, her fiery hair scattered over the grass, mingled with the yellow leaves.
Eric bowed down over her, fearing that something had happened to the girl. He reached for her hand, but catching the movement of her eyelids, pulled his hand back. She was sleeping, and he decided not to wake her up. Eric recognized one of the witches, and wondered why someone would be afraid of her. With the softness of the clear morning on her face, she seemed benign, delicate, and harmless. Her face was calm, eyelids were adorned with the longest lashes, and the rosy lips were so expressive that he had to force himself to stop looking at the lovely creature lying before him.
He couldn’t play the guitar because it might wake her up, but he also couldn’t go away and leave her, fearing something might happen to her while she was asleep and completely helpless. Was she not afraid to sleep in the middle of the clearing? What if instead of him, someone less friendly passed there? Eric sat under the tree some steps away from the soundly sleeping girl.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he continued to sit there and guard the red-haired witch’s sleep. He was afraid to leave her. They were not far from the river bank; the wooden bridge was near, and anyone from the East Bank could pass by.
Finally, Electra stirred. She rubbed her eyes and neck, spread her arms to the sides, and took a deep breath. Eric was afraid to startle the girl who didn’t seem to notice anything around. He stirred slightly, and the dead leaves rustled under his feet. Electra raised her head and gaped at him.
“Forgive me, please,” Eric hastened to say. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
She stared at him, seeming startled, even scared.
“I really didn’t mean to scare you.” Eric stood up and walked over to her. “If you mind me being here, I shall leave.”
“I don’t mind,” she whispered.
Eric picked up the guitar from the ground, sat on the grass, and ran his fingers over the strings.
“Do you like music?”
She nodded.
Eric couldn’t take his eyes off his unexpected companion. He looked at the fiery waves of her hair, at the silver sparkle in her grey eyes, at her delicate hands, considering her to be a forest nymph.
“Are you Electra or Cassandra?”
“Electra,” she said with a smile.
“I’m Eric.”
He had never talked to a witch before. There were so many things he wanted to ask her, but didn’t know how to start. Would she answer him if he asked about the flying brooms? Or about witchcraft? How many witches lived in Hollow? And did they really move things without touching them?
But all he dared to ask was about the whispering garden.
“That’s Enchanted Garden,” Electra said. “The place where the reveries talk to you and call into the long-forgotten dreams.”
“It’s magical, isn’t it? That garden, and this whole town.”
Electra smiled. “After coming here, you probably have understood that this is another place.”
“What do you mean with another? Another town? Another country? Another—?”
“Place.” Electra looked up at the afternoon sun. “I have to go.”
“Can we meet again?”
She cast her eyes down. “I’m not sure.”
“Don’t say we can’t meet because we’re from different banks. Does it matter so much?”
Electra nodded.
“What if I tell you I’ll keep our meeting a secret?”
She bit her lips and looked away.
“I promise, no one on the East Bank will learn about our meeting. But please, tell me this is not the last time that we talk. Tell me we shall meet again.” He took her hand in his and she blushed till the roots of her hair.
“Alright,” she said at last.
“When? Where shall we meet?”
“Tomorrow, at two o'clock, at the bridge nearby.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
Eric watched her tread across the meadow. She had long disappeared, but he was still looking after her. He had just talked to a witch, who rides a broom and talks to animals. He chuckled. It couldn’t be real; witches didn’t exist. But she was real, and beautiful like a fairy.
When Eric returned home, he found Albert and Riona quarreling. He had no wish to interfere in a family spat and turned back to the door when Uncle Albert called after him.
“Eric, come here!”
Eric sat down at the table.
“I had warned you, right?” Uncle Albert said. “Can you explain the reason for this disobedience?”
“Leave him,” Riona intervened, but Albert didn’t pay her attention.
“You must have always behaved like this, if my poor cousin couldn’t cope with you.”
“Albert, leave the boy alone. I made him go with me.”
“Aunt Riona, don’t lie for me. She didn’t make me go with her. I w
ent there because I was curious.”
“Both of you are ungrateful and don’t respect me. This morning, one of my friends asked me why my wife was heading down the road that leads to the witch’s lair, and who was the lad with her. And I didn’t know what to answer!”
“Uncle Albert, no need to shout. What’s so terrible about taking a walk on the other side of the town?”
“Why?” Albert yelled, ignoring Eric. “Why did you go there? You went to see the witch, didn’t you? And you took with you the boy, who’s under my guidance. You have completely lost your mind, woman!”
“Albert, stop shouting. If not for Andromeda’s potion, Caitlin wouldn’t have recovered so quickly. I went there to help her—”
Albert banged his fist on the table. “Silly woman! What have you done? Do the McCormacks know you’ve met the witch?”
“They don’t. I only gave Caitlin a few drops of a soothing potion. She quickly recovered. I couldn’t help it, Albert, she needed Andromeda’s sedatives.”
“Silly woman!”
“Uncle Albert, stop insulting her. She did it to help your neighbor.”
“Boy, what do you know about the witches to talk to me in that tone? You’re in my house, you live at my expense, you eat my bread, you must obey me.”
“Albert, could you stoop any lower?”
“I’ll go pack my things,” Eric said, and went to his room upstairs.
“How could you?” Riona reproached her husband. “You should be ashamed. First you yelled at me, then you insulted the child. I don’t recognize you.”
“I got heated, yes, I went too far.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Riona, you know I don’t want to deal with those witches. Is it really so hard to stay away from them? They are nothing but trouble. You know well that the McCormacks own the farm that feeds us. What a strange child; why is he constantly defending those damned creatures?”
“You call them damned creatures, and yet that witch saved your life. When you were sick two years ago, when you were dying, and the doctor told me to prepare for your funeral, and the notary inquired why you hadn’t written a will, who do you think saved you? Who, if not Andromeda? Whose potion did I give you in secret? Don’t judge people only by rumors, Albert. And now go to Eric and apologize to him.”
Eric was packing his suitcase when Albert knocked at the door. He had come to apologize and didn’t allow Eric to leave the town. He needed him to be around, to help him with the household chores. After all, little Henry was still too young to paint the fence, repair the furniture, or feed the horse.
“But you have to promise me you’ll stay away from the witches,” he said in the end.
Eric couldn’t give him that promise. He wanted to learn more about Electra and her family.
“I’ll try to stay out of trouble,” he said. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t meet Electra; it only meant he’d try to keep his meetings a secret.