No sooner had she gotten into the clouds than it was time to land the witch’s cap house in a lovely little town with rows of shops. There were dress shops, a butcher, an open-air market that sold all sorts of produce and herbs, and a baker who baked breads and made sweets in the shapes of animals. He had two large windows in the front of his bakery: one that featured his edible menagerie and one where he would show off his talents to the passersby likely curious about how he made his confections.
Lucinda loved the idea of Gothel’s walking the cobblestone paths, awestruck by the shops. She almost felt guilty for doing the shopping for her, taking that pleasure away from her, but she knew Gothel would be exhausted when she arrived at her new home, and Lucinda wanted her to be comfortable in her new surroundings.
Lucinda’s first stop was the dressmaker and notions shop. It was called Fripperies, which she found amusing. She noticed in the window of the shop there were little cards offering and requesting various services.
When Lucinda walked into the store, the brass bell overhead rang, getting the attention of the proprietress, who was busy behind the counter, putting away spools of ribbon. “Hello, may I help you with something?” asked the woman, eyeing Lucinda, who was suddenly thankful she had been thoughtful enough to wear something nondescript. She was wearing a simple dress the color of eggplants, trimmed in delicate black lace, and none of her normal ornamentation in her hair. She always found it was best to be as plain as possible when traveling in those small towns, and the last thing she wanted to do was draw unwanted attention to herself or Gothel.
“Hello, yes. Good afternoon,” said Lucinda. “I noticed the advertisements in your window. I’m setting up a household for my dear sister, who will be arriving at her new home just one town over. I’m looking for a cook who is also willing to do the shopping, and perhaps a girl who can care for the house. May I fill out a card for your window?”
The woman behind the counter smiled at Lucinda, putting down her ribbon. She seemed to be considering something. “Well, I do have someone I think would be perfect for the position. She has good references. She’s an older woman, mind you, but very hardworking. If it’s a small home, she could probably manage everything.”
Lucinda smiled at the woman. “As long as you don’t think it would be too much for her. My sister would happily pay her more for the extra duties. When can you arrange to send her over?”
The woman handed Lucinda a number of handwritten references and a card with the woman’s name printed on it. “Everything seems to be in order. I assume you’ve checked her references?”
“Oh yes.”
Lucinda laughed. “I’m so sorry, I’ve completely neglected to introduce myself. My name is Lucinda White.”
“A pleasure to meet you, my lady. And my name is Ms. Lovelace. This is my establishment. Has been for the past six years.”
“A pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. Lovelace. I appreciate your help, and I admire your name. I assume I can count on you to contact this Mrs. Tiddlebottom and inform her we would be happy to have her fill our post?” asked Lucinda as she passed Ms. Lovelace a card with Gothel’s address. And then she added, “And please do send along a young girl with good qualifications who can do the cleaning if Mrs. Tiddlebottom has any objections whatsoever with the amount of work that will be required.”
Ms. Lovelace laughed. “Mrs. Tiddlebottom can always be counted upon to make her feelings known. I’ll be sure to let her know that is an option. Don’t you worry.”
“Good, and we will provide a carriage to pick up her and her things when she is ready.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Nothing at the moment, but I thank you,” said Lucinda, handing Ms. Lovelace a small pouch of coins. “That is for your services, Ms. Lovelace. Thank you and have a lovely day.”
“Thank you, my lady! Come again!”
The brass bell rang as Lucinda exited. She often laughed to herself when she saw the looks on people’s faces when she told them her last name. Ms. Lovelace’s only admission to knowing Lucinda was one of the King’s relations was when she referred to her as “lady.”
So, her cousin’s name had traveled even to that great distance. Never mind all that, she told herself. There is still much to do.
She spent most of the afternoon wandering the various shops and placing orders to be delivered to Gothel’s new home. By the time Lucinda was done shopping, she had arranged the entire stocking of Gothel’s larder and acquired bedding and various other things Gothel might need. Jacob had fortunately arranged the delivery of furniture when he’d bought the home some years ago, and he’d thoughtfully had it covered in white cloth to keep it from getting dusty until his little witch arrived. Hopefully Ruby and Martha think to remove the cloths before Gothel arrives, Lucinda thought.
Lucinda had only one basket to take with her on her trip back to Gothel’s new home: the provisions for that evening’s dinner. She wasn’t sure how soon the deliveries would arrive and thought it best to take dinner home herself.
As Lucinda flew overhead, she could see Gothel’s carriage and many wagons lined up outside her new home. They must be inside, she thought as she landed the house in the nearby field filled with beautiful yellow wildflowers. She saw her sisters run to the windows so they could see her land, excited to share the news that Gothel and Pflanze had finally arrived.
“Lucinda! Lucinda! They’re here!” screeched Ruby and Martha.
Lucinda laughed. “Yes, I see that. How is our little witch?”
“Oh, she’s exhausted!” said Martha.
“She’s in torment!” said Ruby.
“All to be expected,” said Lucinda. “And how’s Pflanze?”
“Oh, she’s thriving!” said Ruby.
“She’s upstairs with Gothel now!” said Martha.
“Shall we stay and take care of our little witch, then, Sisters? She needs us now that she has no one else to care for her. At least until we can see her cook, Mrs. Tiddlebottom, settled in.”
Ruby and Martha exchanged amused glances at the cook’s name.
“Mrs. Tiddlebottom?” The three sisters laughed.
“Yes, her name is Mrs. Tiddlebottom. Contain yourselves.”
“We won’t stay too long, will we, Lucinda?” asked Ruby. “We still have the matter of Circe.”
“Don’t worry, Sisters. We won’t stay long, I promise. I just want to see that Gothel is in good hands. Shall we leave Pflanze here to keep an eye on things?”
Martha looked around to see if anyone was listening, as if Gothel would pop out from behind a curtain. “Do you think Gothel will share the flower with us, Lucinda? Have you seen it anywhere? I’ve searched everywhere.”
“Shhh. I didn’t sense it from overheard, either. Let’s not bother Gothel with that right now. Let’s go upstairs. I assume Gothel is resting?”
“She is! She’s upstairs with Pflanze. Oh, Lucinda, she is in terrible shape. The long sleep has exhausted her,” said Ruby.
“She lost her home, and her companion Jacob,” said Lucinda.
“Not to mention her sisters,” said Martha.
“We will do what we can to help her. We know all too well what it is like to lose a sister,” said Lucinda.
“But we will get Circe back, won’t we, Lucinda?”
“Yes, my dear, one way or another we will get her back.”
“The flowers!” Gothel sat up in bed, panicked. “The flowers? Where are the flowers?”
Lucinda flew into the room. “We’ve found only one flower, Gothel. Only one. Likely the one Jacob had planted here years ago. It seems they did not flourish as Jacob hoped they might, but these are disenchanted lands.”
“But what about my sisters? Where are they?” asked Gothel.
“Jacob thought to put enchanted soil from the city of the dead in their coffins, just enough to keep them preserved. But I’m sorry to say all the flowers that were placed with them in
their coffins have died.”
“How am I going to save my sisters?”
“I’m not sure, my little one. Our main concern has been your health.”
Gothel was still befuddled from her long sleep. She was having a hard time clearing her head and a very hard time communicating. All she could manage was panicked rapid-fire questions as they popped into her head.
“The blood! Where is it? How long have we been here? Who did the unpacking?”
“We did, Gothel. We didn’t want Mrs. Tiddlebottom to come across something that may frighten or confuse her.”
“Who is Mrs. Tiddlebottom?”
“Your new cook, dear. She’s completely trustworthy. We’ve made sure of that.”
“Should I even ask?”
Lucinda laughed. “No, nothing like that. No magical interference, I promise.”
“But what about the chests from the vault, where are they?”
“We put the gold in the cellar, along with your sisters. You have the only key, Gothel. It’s in your bedside table drawer. Mrs. Tiddlebottom has the keys to the rest of the house, of course.”
“Where are my books?”
“In the sitting room. We’ve made it into a library for you. I promise we’ve arranged everything, while you’ve been sleeping.”
“How long has it been?” asked Gothel, looking at the floral-patterned wallpaper. It was a pleasant deep brown and dusty rose. So different from her old home.
“Just a few days, Gothel. We’ve only been here a few days,” said Lucinda.
“I feel like I’m living in an entirely different world,” Gothel said, looking out the window at the sea of wildflowers and pink blossoming trees.
“You are, my dear, but it’s a beautiful world, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” said Gothel. “Lucinda?”
“Yes, dear?”
“How long was I asleep in the dead woods?”
“A very long time, Gothel. More time than I even realized had passed until I heard from Jacob.”
“I need to go down to the cellar. I’m guessing Jacob packed my mother’s blood with the other things from the vault,” Gothel said, trying to get up but feeling faint.
“Let me. You’re still rather weak. What should I look for?” Lucinda asked.
“A glass bottle of blood with a wax-sealed cork. It should be inside a wooden chest.”
“I’ll be right back! I’ll send Mrs. Tiddlebottom up with some tea,” said Lucinda as she fished the key out of the bedside table drawer.
Gothel had woken up in a world she didn’t quite care for. It was a world without magic. Without Jacob.
A world without her sisters.
She had never imagined living in a world without them. She hardly knew what to do next. What was her life without the dead woods, without her sisters? Everything she knew had been destroyed or murdered. Even her beloved Jacob and his army were likely dust, her family home probably destroyed.
All so some ailing queen could have her precious flower.
Gothel was brought out of her musings by the sound of Mrs. Tiddlebottom’s clearing her throat at the threshold of her room.
“Hello, my lady. Your sister asked that I bring up some tea.”
“My sister?” asked Gothel. “Are my sisters here? Where are they?”
“Yes, my lady. Lady Lucinda has gone down to the cellar for something. The ladies Ruby and Martha are in the library,” said Mrs. Tiddlebottom, giving Gothel a sad smile.
“Ah, yes, of course. Thank you.”
“You poor dear. Your sister said you were still a little befogged after such a long illness. Now don’t you worry, I will stuff you with your favorite foods, and hopefully liven your spirits!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tiddlebottom,” said Gothel, taking the tea.
“Now you drink that all up, Lady Gothel.”
“Please just call me Gothel.”
“And you can just call me Mrs. T,” said Mrs. Tiddlebottom with a smile.
Lucinda walked back into the room emptyhanded. “Thank you, Mrs. T. I think we will take our midday meal in the garden, if you don’t mind. It’s such a lovely day and I would like my sister to get some air.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Lady Lucinda. I have some of her favorites in the oven now. I’d better go check on them before they’re ruined,” she said as she trotted out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Did you find it?”
Lucinda shook her head. “I didn’t, Gothel, I’m sorry.”
“It has to be somewhere!”
“If it is here, we will find it, I promise!” Lucinda sat next to Gothel on the bed and put her hand on hers. “Listen to me. Your sisters are fine where they are now. They’re safe. I know you’re eager to wake them, and I understand, I do, believe me, but right now I’m worried about you. Can we focus on getting you better first? And once you’re strong again, we can focus on your sisters. How does that sound?”
“Fine, I suppose.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Why did you tell the cook you’re my sister?”
“This is a small town, Gothel. People gossip. You’re a young woman with no family relations! I didn’t want those nosy gossips in town weaving wild stories, digging up your background, or giving you any trouble. The last thing you need is the King sending his men to find the last remaining flower.”
“That was very smart of you, thank you,” said Gothel. “Have you heard from Jacob? Do you know what became of my lands?”
“I’m afraid there is nothing left of your lands—not much, anyway,” said Lucinda with a sad look. She knew how much Gothel loved the dead woods.
“And Jacob?” asked Gothel.
“He’s gone, too,” said Lucinda. It seemed she had nothing but bad news for her friend that day.
“Then he is finally at rest,” said Gothel, squeezing Lucinda’s hand.
“Yes, he deserves his rest, don’t you think?” asked Lucinda.
“I do. I really do,” said Gothel, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
It had been several years since Lucinda, Ruby, and Martha had settled Gothel into her new home and then left her alone to flounder and blunder her way through her new provincial life, with the ever loyal and diligent Mrs. Tiddlebottom handling everything that might have otherwise occupied or distracted Gothel from her loneliness. They had even taken their cat, Pflanze, who, like her mistresses, was eager to see what would become of the odd sisters’ little sister, Circe. To Gothel it was a lifetime.
Gothel had felt abandoned in those first months. The sisters and Pflanze had flown off in some invisible house to attend to matters far more important than Gothel, leaving her alone and defenseless with no magic.
Before the sisters left, Gothel’s house had been thoroughly searched. Every single item that had been packed by Jacob was examined. Gothel and the odd sisters even pulled down every book to see if it had been hollowed out to hide Gothel’s mother’s blood. And after the sisters left, Gothel searched every item again just to be sure and because she had nothing else to do. She even emptied every chest of gold, not bothering to the put the coins back in their places. The blood simply wasn’t there. It was gone.
Just like everything else in her life.
She felt her life had no meaning. No purpose. Even if she could wake her sisters, she wondered if that was what they would really want. And she wondered if they would be happy in that house, with its floral wallpaper and delicate furnishings. She remembered the day she had tried to bring her sisters back with the help of the odd sisters in the dead woods. The horrible scene flashed through her mind like a jolt.
Please let us die.
No, maybe it was best to let her sisters rest. Maybe it was time Gothel rested as well.
Gothel desperately wanted to see her sisters again, even if it meant being confronted by her mother. There was nothing for her here. Nothing but endless solitude, flower-patterned wallpaper, and something close to
grief that she was not allowed to fully experience because the odd sisters had taken that from her also.
In her solitude, she began to dislike the odd sisters. They refused to come no matter how many ravens she sent, begging them to return. Her memory of them became distorted. Her loneliness started to twist her mind. The longer they were away, and the more letters they sent to say they couldn’t come to see her, the more her love for them diminished. She started to distrust them, almost hate them. The odd sisters started to come in and go out of focus in her mind, changing from the girls she had known in the dead forest, the friends and sisters she had grown to love, to these creatures she’d invented. She couldn’t tell them apart anymore. When the odd sisters did take time to write her, their letters were singularly obsessed with trying to save that sister of theirs. That Circe. And she wondered if it wasn’t all just lies. They sent endless letters about her. Endless updates. Flowery, poetic letters, full of grief, worry, and love. Over the years, the tone of the letters started to change, becoming less coherent, and more disjointed. They said they’d finally devised a way to bring their sister back. A difficult spell they’d been working on for many years. They promised they would return as soon as they could. Gothel continued to plead for them to come to her. Even in her distrust of them, she had no one else but them—and, of course, Mrs. Tiddlebottom, who did her best to make Gothel happy. But no matter how Gothel pleaded with the odd sisters to return, there was always some reason they couldn’t. First it was the matter of Circe, and then it was some nonsense about a dragon fairy-witch. It all sounded like twaddle to Gothel, like a fairy tale you told a child, and she started to wonder if Jacob had been right. She started to wonder if all this was their fault. And she wondered if her mother’s vision had been correct. After all, her sisters hadn’t become dreadfully ill until the odd sisters arrived for the solstice. It was as if they had appeared in the dead woods right out of the ether, under some pretense they were there to help, insisting they somehow knew Gothel needed them. Well, now it all sounded like rubbish. All of it. She needed the odd sisters, and they were nowhere to be found. Everything concerning them seemed suspect to her now. Now that she was old and ready to go into the mists. Now that there was nothing left for her in the world to love or care for.
Mother Knows Best: A Tale of the Old Witch Page 12