by Andre Norton
“Just so, poppet, just so,” agreed the voice in her head.
“Let me go!” She began to struggle against Crock and Judy’s hold with all her might. She had to be free, to open that door, to meet face to face the one who had called her, to get her witch wishes so she could do what had to be done.
Holly did not quite know what she was to do, but it was very important and the time was short. If she could just get away from the twins. However, together they were more than a match for her, though she kicked out and tried to pull free. They were dragging her back—back away from the house. She must get free.
“Aye, the time for play be over.” The voice in her head sounded louder, and as if it were a little angry now also. Then Holly saw the door of the house begin to swing open; it moved slowly, as if by its own efforts and from no real push.
Now that voice sounded in her ears instead of in her head, while Crock and Judy stood as if suddenly frozen, so that Holly knew they could hear it also: “In the name of Hecate, I bid thee enter—”
HAGAR
Holly went forward confidently without even glancing around to see if the others were following. At first sight this was the same house they had visited before. But the woman standing by the hearth in much the same way—she was not Tamar!
She was smiling gently, not watching the kettle before her, though her hand still moved to stir its contents with a long-handled spoon. Where Tamar had been plain of face and of clothing, this girl (for she looked much younger than Tamar) was very pretty. She wore the same type of cap, but it was pushed farther to the back of her head. Showing around her face were small curls of hair which were almost silver-fair. The wide skirt of her dress was green and it was kilted up over a second skirt of a darker green, while her long apron and the kerchief over her bodice were both edged with narrow plaiting, also of green.
The lighter green of her dress matched the color of her eyes. In her face these seemed very large, beneath brows and behind lashes which, in spite of the fairness of her hair, were dark. There was a dimple in her cheek as her smile grew broader.
“Good morrow to thee, my poppet,” she said directly to Holly. “And to thy kin be it also a merry-a-day. Thou art prompt to the bidding, and that be in thy favor, small sister.”
Holly stood tongue-tied. This was not Tamar. Then who was it standing at Tamar’s hearth, using her kettle as if this were her home?
As if she could pick that question out of Holly’s mind, the girl in green laughed, low and sweet. “Ah, be it that I know thee and not thou me, poppet? I be Hagar—”
It was not Holly who interrupted her then, but Crock. “Where’s Tamar?” he asked. His voice sounded rough and almost too loud in the room.
Hagar’s smile vanished. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment Holly thought she looked like Tomkit when he was annoyed enough to flatten his ears to his skull and hiss a warning. But it was only for an instant that she looked so.
Then once more she smiled, and her voice was gentle and sweet: “La, young sir, my dear sister be abroad. I keep the hearthside this day, as thou seest. And thy company be most welcome, for this be a lonely place—”
“You’re Tamar’s sister?” Holly blinked. She was so unlike Tamar. But then Crock and Judy were twins and they did not look at all alike, either.
“Her sister, yes, poppet. But it be me thou hast come to see, be that not the truth?”
Slowly Holly nodded. Until this moment she had not been aware of that fact, but now she remembered a little of last night’s dreaming. It had been Hagar, not Tamar, who had spoken to her in those dreams, shown her the way to come.
“Then let us have no more of Tamar. She has her own concerns, and this day we have no part of them but pleasure ourselves otherwise.” Hagar laughed. “Ah, there be pleasures aplenty, poppets”—now she seemed to include them all as eagerly as if they were about to begin some exciting game—“which have not been known as thou shalt know them! But let me to the end of this labor and thou shalt see!”
She turned now to look into the pot, holding up the spoon and allowing the liquid to drip from it back into that seething below. The drops were a deep green color and fell slowly as if very thick. Now Hagar began to sing, softly and low, but so that Holly could catch each word:
“Queen of Heaven, Queen of hell
Send thy aid into this spell.
Horned hunter of the night
Work here thy will by magic rite.
By all the powers of land and sea
As I do say ’So mote it be.’
By all the might of moon and sun,
As I will, let it be done!”
With the last word she tipped the pot, having reached behind her to the settle and from there picked up a basin. From the pot into the basin flowed sluggishly a thick trickle of the oily-looking green liquid. There did not seem to be much of it, though Hagar was careful to collect all she could, even shaking the spoon at last over the basin to coax down a few more drops which had clung to that.
There was a strange smell added now to all the others from the herbs and spices in the room. Holly could not say whether it was a good smell or a bad one. Just that it was like no other her nose had ever recorded.
Carefully holding the basin level, Hagar brought it to the long, cluttered table, setting it down beside a bottle in which was already fixed a funnel. Then with caution she began to pour the liquid from the basin into the bottle. She was so intent while she did this that Holly, without thinking, came closer to watch her.
The last drop filtered through the funnel. Quickly Hagar jerked it away and closed the bottle with a cork made of a rolled-up piece of bark tied tightly around with a green thread. She forced it into place and looked up with a smile.
“ ’Tis done, and well done! With tasks behind, then playtime comes. What be thy will, poppet?” she said directly to Holly. “Wouldst thou learn what thy will can do when thou wouldst have such—?”
“Holly!” For the first time Judy spoke up. “Don’t listen to her! Don’t you dare listen!”
Once more that quick instant of anger changed Hagar’s pretty face.
“Little one”—now she swung about a fraction to look beyond Holly—”thou hast a feckless tongue. Use it not too often lest it play thee false!”
“You stop it!” That was Crock. “You just stop frightening Judy!”
Hagar’s eyelids drooped over those very brilliant eyes. She smiled again, but there was something secret about that smile. Holly stirred uneasily. Far down inside her, fear was sharp. Then Hagar looked up again and that secret smile was open and warm.
“Nay, lad, do not fear me. I will do thee and thy sister no harm. Contrariwise, I have much to offer thee. What be the dearest wish of thy heart? Think of it with all thy mind—”
“No!”
Hagar shrugged. “So be it. I do not offer twice, lad. Thou hast thrown away more than thou can guess.”
Now she gazed at Holly as if both Crock and Judy had gone and only Holly were left. “But thou, poppet, thou hast learned well the way of the world. Take what thou wilt when thou hast the power. And thou shalt have that power—that do I promise. But also there be two sides to a bargain. I will give freely and thou shalt do freely.”
“Do what?” Holly asked as Hagar paused.
The other laughed gayly. “Oh, it be little, so very little—for thee. But to me it will mean safety from those who come a-hunting. I know a little of what may lie hid ahead of me, and that little be enough. Thee brings safety, poppet; for that thee would be very welcome, but also for thy ownself. For in thee lies fertile soil for the planting—”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Holly was puzzled. She could understand that Hagar wanted her to help in some way. But the rest of it—
“Thou shalt learn. It be in thee, and be now awake and ready. Dost thou not want to bring to others—” Hagar paused again. The tip of her tongue touched upper and lower lips. She did not add to that but smiled once more and beckoned H
olly closer.
“Look thou”—her hands spread in a wide gesture which indicated the table and the many things upon it—”this be a school in which much can be learned. But only for those in whom lies the need. And in thee I see it. Thus I shall teach, and thee shall learn, when both of us be safe. But thou must make sure of that safety, my sweetling.”
“How can—” Holly began, when they heard the singing outside, faint because the door was now shut.
“Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly!
Lavender’s green.
When I am king, dilly, dilly!
Thou shalt be Queen.”
“I shall be Queen!” Hagar caught up the stoppered bottle she had filled so carefully. “Oh, aye, I shall be Queen!”
She ran lightly around the end of the table, and was at the door. Holly turned to watch her go, and now saw Crock and Judy back against the wall, their eyes wide, and frightened looks on their faces. But they did not move, or watch Holly, as she went to the edge of the high window to look out.
She reached forward to brush aside the hanging leaves of a plant in a pot on the sill. Thus her fingers touched one of the small panes, which of itself went open on hinges, giving her a chance to hear as well as see what went on outside.
Seth Elkins came swiftly along the path through the frost-blasted garden. He wore a long cloak and a hat with a broad brim and a high crown. But that did not hide his face, and he was laughing a little.
“Ah, sweetheart, come thou to me as eagerly as I hunt thee out!” He opened his arms as if to take Hagar into them. But she was laughing, too, and drew back a step or two, eluding him.
“Be not so eager, brave one,” she said. “Would thee put to naught all I have so carefully wrought for our future?”
She was holding the small bottle in both hands, and seeing it, he stopped short.
“Then thou didst do as thou threatened,” Seth Elkins said slowly. All his open happiness of a moment before was gone.
Hagar drew back another step, frowning. “Why say thou ‘threatened’? I promised that what could be set right for the twain of us, that would I labor to do. And thou did say ‘Aye’ to that. Why dost thou now use such a word to me who be thy true and only love? Or be it that thou hast come to terms with thy father and will go courting where he bids?”
“Thou knowest that be not so!” he said angrily. “Thou art indeed my true and only love. I go nowhere else a-wooing. My father’s anger dost not move me into the road he would have me follow. But—”
“But?” Hagar repeated with a sharpness Holly had not yet heard in her gentle voice. “So there be a ‘but’—explain it to me.”
“What thou hast said—it be witchery.”
“Witchery? What is witchery?” She flung up her head and stared into his eyes. “Dost thou name me ‘witch’? If that be so, say it abroad—to the Reverend Eames and his like. Send me to my death and stand to watch me hang, as thou must surely do. I have no harm in what I do here, I am a healer and one who wishes all good to others. If thou wouldst incline thy father’s mind to thee, then I can aid thee. That be what I promised; that be what I will do, if thee wills it. I mean him no harm—would I be so foolish? Already they whisper against Tamar, who be a fool, as many times I have told her. Should I add to their whispers by any deed of mine?”
As she spoke she went toward him step by step, her eyes still holding his. On the young man’s face there was a queer look now which Holly did not understand, as if he could see only Hagar in all the world, and that what she said was all he could hear.
Hagar now held the small flask in her left hand. Her right one she reached forth, pushing aside the flap of Seth’s cloak, resting it palm-flat against his chest. “Am I a fool, Seth? Am I one to give all those who have reason to wish us ill proof that their evil thoughts are the truth? Am I, Seth?”
“No!” He caught and held her tight. “No, Hagar, thou art my own dear heart and all the world to me. There be no evil in thee!”
“Remember that,” she said. “Now, if it be thy will, this I shall pour forth upon the ground right willingly. For though it would serve us to our fortune, yet I will not have thee believe I meant any ill to a living soul!”
She had freed herself from his hold and now stood apart, her right hand upon the stopper of the bottle as if she would jerk it out and then do just what she had offered.
For a moment he looked from Hagar to the bottle, then back again. “What be in it?”
“Herbs only,” she answered promptly.
“Then why should it incline my father to put aside his wishes and favor us?”
“It will soothe his ill humors, and he will be more ready to listen to thee. Look you—would I do this were I pressing upon thee some evil potion?”
Hagar did jerk the stopper from the bottle now. She held that between thumb and forefinger and plunged the little finger of her other hand into the narrow neck of the vial until its tip met the green liquid. When she withdrew it, a drop of the oily green substance clung to her flesh. Promptly she sucked that finger clean. Deliberately she replaced the stopper.
“See what I have done? Dost thou believe me now?”
“Aye.” His hand went out slowly and she put the bottle into his grasp.
“How—when do I use it?” he asked hesitatingly.
“Three drops within that posset he does take when he seeks his bed. That posset my good sister hath given him to relieve his aching of the stomach. Do it so for three nights, then wait one, and then again for three. Thee shall see, over the days between he shall warm to thee as he has not since Master Dimsdale did ask thee to wed that squint-eyed daughter who be all he has for an heir. Three plus three, even as I tell thee and we shall be man and wife!”
“Hurry that day!” Seth was laughing again. He put the bottle into his pocket and then he swooped forward, caught Hagar under the arms, and swung her off her feet into the air, still laughing, while she was laughing, too. Then he kissed her.
But at length she pushed out of his hold again. “Be off with thee, bold one. Let not Tamar see thee, for she be jealous that I am courted and she be not. Trouble can she make. Also, that Patience Dimsdale does match her name: She slinks about ever watching and waiting. And until thy father’s heart be turned to us, we want no roaring of Master Dimsdale. He hast been unfriendly to me for long, and to add logs to the fire of his anger would be indeed stupid. Soon shall it be, dear one, that we shall stay together forever—”
“May that be soon!”
As Seth went, Hagar stood there smiling, and she waved her hand twice as he half turned to view her. When he had disappeared she came quickly into the house, and Holly, feeling uneasy, pulled away from the window.
“What be done be well done,” Hagar said, as if to herself. “If any question rises—ah, my dear sister then shall have the answering! Fool, thrice fool that she has been and will ever be!”
Her eyes fell on Holly and she nodded. “A new lesson to be learned well, poppet, though thou wilt not yet understand its meaning. Now let us make merry together and be as good comrades-in-arms—for such are we to be.”
As Tamar had done, Hagar cleared one end of the table, moving swiftly and surely, setting out plates, bringing tankards and brown bread and honey. But this time Holly did not feel in the least hungry. And she saw that Hagar had put out only two plates, two tankards.
Holly glanced back at Judy and Crock. To her surprise they had not moved since she had seen them last, standing there against the wall with their faces set in those looks of surprise and fear. In Holly, for the second time, that fear of her own stirred once again.
“What—what have you done to them?” she demanded shrilly.
Hagar was tearing apart the small loaf of bread, dividing it between their two plates. “Thou art afraid, poppet!” Concern sounded in her voice. “But thee must not be. Fear causes a weakening of purpose, a slowing of thought. I would harm none of thy kin-blood. But they see ill in me and would do ill in turn to thee, fo
r they have no understanding of that which lies within the two of us. Now it be as if they sleep. They shall remember naught except as a dream, very faint and without meaning. But thou shalt remember all, and also what must be done by thee. Now come, we shall eat together, for friends we be and friends share food and drink.”
Holly went to the table very slowly. Sometimes it was as if, when she blinked, she saw another room, another person: not Tamar, no—but not Hagar, either. When that happened, for a flash of a moment she was afraid. Then that vision vanished and she was all right again and knew that what Hagar said was the truth and all was going to be well.
As Holly sat down on the bench, Hagar pulled up a stool to sit across the table from her. She raised her hands and made a sign in the air over both the bread broken in two on their plates and the liquid in their tankards.
Holly reached for the bread. She was not hungry, she did not want to break off a bite the way Hagar was doing and put it into her mouth. But with Hagar watching her so closely, she felt that it would be very impolite, or even mean, if she did not.
Unlike Tamar’s bread, this had a dry feel on her tongue and very little taste. She had to drink quickly in order to swallow it at all. And the stuff in the tankard did not have the flavor the cider had had either, but left a tart stinging in her mouth.
“I’m not very hungry,” she said, somehow unable to take any more of the bread, or drink that which left her mouth still burning inside.
“Nay? But I thought it was a kind of hunger which brought thee here, my poppet. Wert thou not a-hungering for that to confound thy enemies and bring thy own will to pass?” Hagar’s eyes caught and held Holly’s with that same searching as she had earlier used with Seth.
It was almost like looking into those mirror eyes which the strange brush animal in the maze had shown. Holly thought she could see herself in the green ones Hagar turned upon her, and as she did, her uneasiness vanished. Of course, Hagar was right! She wanted to learn the witch wishes, to be able to stand up for herself, to make them all sorry—She had not quite sorted out yet the “them” she wished to use her wishes against. But she would know, when the time came, she would know!