The purple twilight sky was starting to darken to the color of eggplants, and there was the stillness in the air that always told Gothel it was about to snow. She could feel the chill kissing her cheeks, likely turning them a rosy color like her sisters’. She could see their breath. To Gothel they all seemed like dragon witches, breathing smoke as they waited.
“Will it be much longer, Gothel?” asked Primrose, clearly becoming impatient.
“I’m not sure, Prim. Oh wait, look. There he is.”
In the distance, they saw Jacob making his way down from the main house. He was carrying a torch, illuminating his skull-like features.
“Good evening, young witches. So sorry to keep you waiting,” said Jacob when he finally got to the courtyard. “Since this is my ladies’ first winter solstice during their reign as queens, I wanted to make the longest night an even more special occasion.” Gothel saw Jacob eyeing their guests. She hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with him privately on the matter, and she was even more curious now what he thought about the witches.
“I present, for the very first time in our lands, the festival of lights!” Jacob raised his torch, signaling Victor, who was watching from the house, and within moments the entire house and its grounds were filled with the most magnificent light Gothel and her sisters had ever seen.
“Oh, Jacob! It’s remarkable! Thank you,” said Gothel, smiling at her sisters’ happy faces.
“It’s my pleasure, my queen,” said Jacob, gesturing for all the witches to follow him. “Come, my ladies. Come out of the cold. Queen Gothel has arranged a magnificent feast for the celebration.”
“Oh, Gothel, a feast?” asked Primrose, smiling.
“The house is so beautiful, Gothel! Thank you!” said Hazel.
Gothel loved seeing her sisters so happy. “I wanted our first celebration together without Mother to be special! I wanted to make you happy! Please tell me you’re happy!” But they didn’t have to answer: within moments she was enveloped in her sisters’ embraces.
“Thank you, Gothel!” they squealed. “Thank you!”
“Yes, it’s very beautiful,” said the odd sisters, mesmerized by the lights from the house. The morning room looked especially brilliant from a distance. “That room there, it reminds us of the Lighthouse of the Gods.”
“Thank you! That was my intention.”
“Oh, you’ve been there?” asked Lucinda as they all followed Jacob through the vestibule and up the stairs leading them to the morning room.
“No, I’ve only read about it. We’ve never left the dead woods,” said Gothel sadly as they entered the morning room. There were hundreds of skeletons quietly making their way out of the house and back to their graves. It became clear that Jacob had arranged for them all to light the candles at once. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t covered in candles. The house was entirely filled with light, the way Gothel had imagined. As they entered the morning room, she was struck by the beauty of the solstice tree placed in the center, stretching to the top of the glass dome overhead. The tree was covered in red glass hearts, birds, and glittering glass balls of various colors that sparkled in the candlelight.
At the far end of the room was an altar with the small oil paintings of their ancestors, and in the center was a portrait of their mother. There were hazelnuts, tea, oranges, various flowers, and chocolates on the table, as well as a brass bell and a pretty teacup they only brought out for that occasion. The teacup was silver with black skulls, and it had a chip with a hairline crack. There were also an emerald broach, a remarkably beautiful diamond necklace, a string of pearls, and an onyx ring—all possessions of their ancestors, all treasures their mother had kept in a wooden box in the vault and brought out for that occasion. The altar was filled with many taper candles of different heights in silver candlestick holders. Those candles seemed to burn more brightly than the others; the light was almost blinding, which had been Gothel’s intent. She didn’t want her sisters to have to see their mother’s portrait if they didn’t want to. She would have done away with the altar altogether for that celebration, but she didn’t want to anger her ancestors any more than necessary. She was already afraid they would be offended the witches were not celebrating the longest night under the cover of dark, in solemn contemplation.
Under the tree was a pile of gifts wrapped in red and silver paper, with black bows and little white tags. There were even gifts under the tree for their guests. It had all been seen to by Jacob, who wanted to be sure that no one was left out of the festivities. Gothel was astounded by Jacob’s attention to detail and had to admit she was utterly dependent upon him.
“Now, if you ladies would like to follow me to the dining room, dinner is ready,” said Jacob.
The dining room had a blazing fire in the fireplace, casting light and shadows on the harpies carved into the stone wall. The room was warm even with the windows open to reveal a spectacular view of the courtyard that had replaced the conservatory.
“It’s so lovely in here, Jacob, thank you.”
“Come to the windows. I have something to show you,” he said to all the witches.
Gothel could see just beyond the courtyard, in a small greenhouse near the carriage house, the light of the rapunzel flower, amplified by the greenhouse windows. She had almost forgotten it existed, with all the renovations and vexation about her sisters’ health. She wondered if the visiting witches knew what that one tiny light was. She started to become nervous. She hadn’t thought what it meant to have other witches in her home and on her grounds so near the flower. Did they think it was a candle for the festival of lights, or did they know the flower was their secret?
Jacob could see that Gothel was concerned, which in turn concerned him. But within moments other lights started to appear in the courtyard. That, not the flower, was the surprise he had intended to share with his witches. Each one of the formerly frolicking stone dancers near the fountain was now holding glowing candles in its stone hands, and in the center of the fountain was the Gorgon, surrounded by floating candles illuminating her gleeful grin. It was a beautiful spectacle. And then, one by one, lights started to appear throughout the woods. Thousands of candles lit up the entire forest, all held in the hands of her devoted minions. It was remarkable, not only the brilliance, but this show of power to her guests. It was like an endless sea of light that stretched out as far as they could see.
“Thank you, Jacob. Thank you for everything you have done for us this night, and every other since the passing of our mother,” said Gothel sincerely.
“It’s my pleasure, my queen.” Gothel noticed Jacob had been referring to her as his queen since the arrival of the odd witches. She was almost eager to get the evening over with so she would have the opportunity to talk with him alone. “Please, everyone, take your seats. Dinner will get cold,” said Jacob, directing the witches to their chairs.
The witches took their seats at the long wooden table, which was covered in a bounty of delicious foods and tiny votive candles in glass holders. Jacob managed to include everyone’s favorites, even those of the odd sisters, who helped themselves to large portions of baked apples spiced with brown sugar and cinnamon and served with cold cream.
“How did you know we loved cherries in brandy?” asked Ruby as she poured them over a hearty piece of walnut cake.
“Jacob is a master at anticipating our every whim,” said Gothel, smiling at her guests.
To Gothel’s surprise, Primrose and Hazel piled their plates high with their favorites, as well. Primrose was munching on cherry tarts, while Hazel was spreading chocolate hazelnut butter on thinly grilled cakes covered with a light dusting of powdered sugar. Gothel thought she would happily provide her sisters with a feast every day if it meant she would be able to get them to eat. Maybe it was the warmness of the room, but it seemed to Gothel her sisters had more color in their cheeks. The evening was everything she wanted it to be.
Between taking bites of her tart and sipping wine,
Primrose was asking the new witches a litany of questions.
“How long have you been studying magic? Where do you live? How did you find us in the dead woods? How does your magic work?” And on she went, not even giving the witches time to answer. It was nice to see Primrose so happy and so full of life. Like her old self, Gothel thought. Hazel was quiet, as was her custom. She was the contemplative sister. The observer. She let Primrose, the outgoing sister, ask all the questions and sat there listening carefully to the responses.
“Give them a chance to answer, Prim!” said Gothel, laughing.
“That’s okay, Gothel. We understand,” said Martha. “We felt the same way when we met other witches for the first time. But it must be even more overwhelming for you after being here alone for so many years.”
“It is!” said Primrose. “We’ve had no one here in the dead woods our entire lives. Imagine living your entire life not meeting a soul other than your sisters and mother. And Jacob, of course.” She looked at Jacob, standing nearby in case anyone required anything. “Jacob! Why aren’t you joining us?” she asked. If Jacob could have blushed, he would have. Gothel could tell he was touched by Primrose’s gesture.
“Thank you, Lady Primrose, but I should check in on the kitchen. Since you ladies seem to be favoring the sweets rather than the savory dishes, I think I will request the other desserts be brought out immediately.”
“Oh!” squealed Primrose. “That sounds lovely!”
The odd sisters laughed. “Is it always like this? So happy? We hadn’t expected to see such a happy group of witches when we decided to venture here.”
Hazel spoke. “I mean no offense, but why do you ask questions when you already know the answers?”
The witch sisters smiled at Hazel. “Ah. We thought you were the empathetic one,” said Lucinda.
“How so?” asked Hazel, speaking up more than was usual for her.
“We were hoping the three of you could read minds,” said Ruby. “It makes things so much easier when getting to know new witches if we can just read each other’s minds.”
“Wait, you can read minds?” asked Primrose.
The odd sisters laughed. “Yes,” they said.
Primrose frowned.
The odd sisters laughed again. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Primrose,” said Lucinda. “You have such a pure heart, and you are so kind, you really have nothing to hide.”
“I like these girls!” said Primrose, smiling at her own sisters. “I think we should keep them!”
“I am curious,” said Hazel, “how it was you were able to enter our woods. Our mother always told us the boundary was enchanted.”
“And so it is, but we devised a counter spell that allowed us to enter. We didn’t think you’d mind,” Lucinda said, taking Hazel’s measure.
“That’s rather audacious,” said Hazel.
“It is audacious! And I like it!” Primrose said, smiling, then laughing.
“Yes, of course you would,” said Hazel.
“I’m sorry if we overstepped, Hazel. I thought we were welcome,” said Lucinda.
“You are welcome,” said Primrose. “I think what Hazel was trying to say is that she is impressed with your magic.”
“Is that what you’re trying to say, Hazel?” Ruby asked.
“As a matter of fact, it is,” said Hazel. “You’ll have to excuse me, ladies. We’re not used to visitors here, and I’m afraid I don’t share my sister’s flair for entertaining. I’m not quite as charming as my other sisters here.” She returned her attention to her meal.
“Please, don’t apologize, Hazel. We are honored to be here,” said Lucinda, raising her glass. “To the witches of the dead woods!”
“To the witches of the dead woods!” said the other witches, laughing and clinking their glasses.
After another hour or so of chatting over dessert, the ladies moved the party into the morning room. Several more trays of desserts, tea, and coffee were on a rolling cart near one of the larger window seats, where all the ladies made themselves comfortable. Each set of sisters found themselves seated across from the others.
“Sisters,” said Gothel, talking to her own sisters, “I have told Lucinda, Ruby, and Martha they may stay as long as they wish. And depending on how you feel about this, I would like to give them access to Mother’s books. They have agreed to help us learn our magic.”
“Oh! I think that’s a lovely idea,” said Primrose. Gothel was surprised. “I know how important magic is to you, Gothel, and I’d much rather have these lovely creatures teach you than Mother.” Primrose looked at Hazel and asked, “What do you think, Hazel?”
Hazel contemplated the witches carefully before answering. “I think that is a very fine idea, but I have a feeling Gothel isn’t being entirely honest with us.”
Gothel’s heart sank. She didn’t know what Hazel was talking about. Lucinda smiled and answered for her. “You’re right, Hazel. We didn’t want to mention it and put a damper on the festivities, but we are here for another reason. We want to help you and Primrose. Gothel has been worried about you—so worried, in fact, that she unintentionally called us here. You see, we can feel magic in the world. And we felt Gothel’s when she destroyed your mother.”
“But I don’t even know how I did it! I still don’t think it was my magic,” said Gothel.
“Well, we’re here to help you figure that out,” said Martha.
“Why are you worried about me and Hazel?” asked Primrose.
Gothel had a feeling Primrose didn’t realize how sick she likely was. “Because, Prim, you two haven’t been yourselves since Mother attacked you. We’re worried she’s caused some kind of irreparable harm.”
“We’re just tired, Gothel. I think you’re making more of this than is necessary.”
“Prim, it’s been months and you’re not getting better!” Gothel hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but she sometimes found Primrose’s Hades-may-care attitude annoying.
“I think you’re being dramatic, Gothel. As usual!”
“No, Prim, Gothel is right. There is something terribly wrong with us. I didn’t want to frighten you, but I think we should do something about it as soon as we can manage.”
“Really? Do you think it’s that bad?” asked Primrose. But before one of her own sisters could answer, Martha chimed in.
“Don’t worry, Primrose, my sisters and I will help you. I promise. Your mother lived an extraordinarily long life. Somewhere deep within one of her books will be the answer. I promise you.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” said Primrose to the odd sisters.
“We all are,” said Gothel.
“Yes, very glad indeed,” said Hazel.
“Now, shall we open our gifts before the evening takes a darker turn?” asked Gothel, trying to lighten the mood. The truth was she was very worried about her sisters—even more now that Hazel had admitted she agreed something was wrong—but she didn’t want to worry Primrose any more than needed.
She just hoped the odd sisters would be able to help her save Primrose and Hazel.
Lucinda and her sisters hadn’t come down for breakfast yet, and Gothel’s sisters were sleeping in, as they often did. Gothel told Jacob not to have them disturbed, to let them sleep as long as they wished. They had all stayed up quite late the night before, opening gifts. But Gothel had gotten up early. She wanted the opportunity to talk with Jacob alone in the quiet of early morning, when the light was still a muted blue.
She found him at the little greenhouse talking with a number of skeletal creatures about something that seemed rather important.
“Good morning, Jacob.”
“Good morning, little witch.”
“What’s going on here?” she asked, wondering if something was wrong.
“Just taking some security measures.”
“Jacob, may I speak with you privately?”
“It’s safe to talk in front of your minions, little witch.”
“I ca
n tell there is something bothering you about our guests. I’d like to know what it is.”
“Yes. I was planning to come to you after I was done here. I think it would be best if you sent those sisters away at once. Your mother foresaw the destruction of this place many years ago, and she saw it in the form of three witches.”
“That could have been me and my sisters, Jacob. I destroyed the rapunzel, and I killed our mother, almost destroying the entire dead woods in the process. I fulfilled the prophecy myself.”
“She always said it would be three witches wearing the same face.”
“Perhaps she was wrong, Jacob. Maybe she didn’t see correctly.”
“Your mother’s visions were rarely wrong. Please trust me, Gothel. I don’t trust these witches. You don’t know anything about them. Where they’re from, why they’re really here. For all you know, they are here to steal the rapunzel. They could be here to take your place as queen! You’ve never met witches before, Gothel. They are wicked, horrid creatures, envious of each other’s powers, greedy for more magic. Why did they say they came?”
“To help Primrose and Hazel.”
“And in exchange?” he asked, startling Gothel with how informal he was being with her.
“They want to know Mother’s magic. They want to learn how to raise the dead, and how Mother was able to live so long.”
“Then they do want the flower.”
Why is he worried about the flower? Gothel wondered. It wasn’t the flower that animated him—if it were, he would be fully flesh, like a living being. “Don’t worry, Jacob—you will not be harmed if the rapunzel is gone. That is another kind of magic. I spoke with Mother about it briefly. The flower—”
“I know all of this, Gothel. I am older than you are, I spent countless nights talking with your mother until the sun rose to greet us.” Jacob paused. “Listen to me, these witches are not here to help, and even if they think they are, something horrible will happen. You have two choices, Gothel: either give your sisters the blood, or let them die. But whatever you do, take the blood yourself, because you can’t truly rule here as queen until you do.”
Mother Knows Best: A Tale of the Old Witch Page 9