by A. Evermore
‘We are not looking for men, we are looking for that dark-haired girl. When we find her, men will be the reward,’ the other black-haired one said and with a swipe of her wing hit the blonde one on the head.
The other black-haired one hit her on the head in return, ‘Don’t smack her. It was your fault for coming here anyway!’
‘I smelt something funny, like magic and human, didn’t I!’ said the first black-haired one.
Edarna couldn’t quite make out what was said next as the harpies descended into a screeching wing bashing argument. Eventually the three sisters calmed down and stood there with ruffled feathers.
‘Dereever will pull our tails out if she sees us fighting again,’ the blonde one said indignantly. The others shuffled their feet and looked at the ground.
‘Our Queen said the Shadow Stone has been delivered. We must not kill the High Priestess,’ the second black-haired one said.
‘Pfft, well, accidents happen!’ said the blonde.
‘Your execution won’t be an accident though will it?’ said the first black-haired one.
Edarna sighed and stuffed her hands in her ears as the harpies began their screeching argument once more. The High Priestess? A Shadow Stone delivered? She knew the blood red stones the Dromoorai wore were called Shadow Stones and that they were powerful, linked to Baelthrom somehow. Why would the harpies be talking about a Shadow Stone and delivered to where exactly?
Something foul is afoot. Harpies spread foulness wherever they are found!
‘The Immortal Lord has sent his ships and his finest Commander. The battle will be an easy win, so our Queen says. They don’t even suspect we are coming! Then we can all fill our nests and our bellies with men,’ said the second black-haired one. They all cackled excitedly at that.
A loud screeching overhead nearly made Edarna fall off her rock. Luckily the birds didn’t notice the strange moving rock and instead stared up into the sky.
‘Come on, fools, the ships will be there before we are!’ an airborne harpy screeched down at the three sisters.
The three sisters scowled at each other then launched into the air to join the other harpy.
Edarna sighed a long low sigh of relief. Luckily she did not drop her invisible shawl too soon as more harpies now filled the air. They were flying to the south. She lost count of how many there were after thirty.
Going south, to Celene! Why are they going there? It is too dangerous for them.
After half an hour her concealing magic was wearing thin but she daren’t drop her shawl just yet, even though the skies had been empty for at least a half that time. Mr Dubbins the blue cat was purring softly under the rock.
‘I bet you slept right through all of that!’ she rasped, but the cat didn’t so much as twitch.
Edarna chewed her lip as she sat in thought. After another quarter hour her spell had mostly worn off and she let her shawl drop. Still, she sat there quietly thinking next to the sleeping cat.
The Isles of Kammy were Maphraxie now and they were a long long way from Maphrax. I’m likely the only person that knows about it! I must warn everyone. Were the harpies speaking of the High Priestess of Celene? Why would they care about a High Priestess? And what about the ships they mentioned, where are they heading?
‘The harpies are for certain working for Baelthrom,’ Edarna said aloud. Mr Dubbins poked his head out from under the rock and meowed. ‘You cannot be hungry already!’ Edarna scowled at him. He began purring, letting her know she was correct. But instead she fell back to her thoughts.
What did they want with a High Priestess? Edarna had no love for The Temple but it seemed unlikely they were in league with the Maphraxies. The Oracle was soon to be replaced, or at least that was what the score was ten years ago. Somehow the woman clung to life even though her head was half in this world half in the next, the way she babbled on about her dreams and visions. Who knows, maybe she had already been replaced.
A personal trip to the main temple on Frayon would be a magnanimous gesture. The haughty priestesses should always be reminded to respect witches and their wisdom. They would want to know if a High Priestess has sparked interest in the Maphraxies. Perhaps it was their plan to infiltrate the Order from within. Maphraxies were good at infiltrating bodies with their Life Seekers. The Temple should know the danger they might be in.
The thought of helping the Temple left a bitter taste in Edarna’s mouth. It was the Order of The Great Goddess that had disbanded the Witches Coven over fifty years ago when Edarna was a young witch. And all because of the actions of one witch who delved into black magic. She had probably been infected by a Life Seeker anyway.
The witches were systematically stripped of their magic and imprisoned if they used it. What was worse was the disinformation and fear spread about them through the common people. Once witches knew how to fix a broken bone, end a cold, deliver babies, but since the time when the Temple destroyed their Coven the people were afraid to come to them.
‘They were afraid of us, our disorganised ancient magic,’ Edarna nodded, ‘we were a threat to them, their authority, their control of religion. We would not join their Temples of control and so they threw us out, disbanded us! As bad as the bloody wizards are, Mr Dubbins. No, in fact they’re worse! Well look at ‘em now eh? No one believes in the goddess, not like they used to anyway. Pah!’
Wherever a green robe (the colour of the robes witches wore) was seen they were sent out of the villages and into the wilderness, sometimes they were hunted down and killed. So the witches hid their green robes away and hid themselves away too. I miss wearing my lovely green robe! Which is why Edarna lived her life alone on a remote island. Away from her sisters and keeping her earthy magic to herself. The witches were all still out there but now it was wizards and alchemists who helped the sick. All men and they do a poor job at that! It was an old wound that would never heal.
‘What is a village without a witch? What can men ever know about soothing menstrual pains or delivering babies?’ Edarna said to the cat. He just meowed louder, food was more important. ‘And all the seers seem to do is hide away on the Isles of Tirry!’ Sure the seers had taken witches in after ‘The Derobing’ as witches called it, but once a witch it was hard for them to move from the earthier magic and into the seers level of adept wizardry.
‘It’s all fractious, Mr Dubbins, we should all be working together, witch, seer, wizard, priestess, but instead the men want all wizardry to themselves and The Order of the Great Goddess want religion to themselves! None of them are right, Mr Dubbins!’
‘Issa could be a great witch, Mr Dubbins, but I think she may belong with the seers, communing as she does with the goddess n’ all. Somehow I don’t think she is going to be fulfilled just healing horses and fixing broken bones. After all, how many people actually have the sacred mound come to them? The sacred mound found her! Most of us spend a lifetime trying to find it. The wizards may have that awful Storm Holt to test their masculinity against, but I tell you finding something sacred is far more of a lesson. Finding the sacred mound has ever been the making of a witch or seer.
‘And that’s another thing! The seers should be looking for her if they weren’t so engrossed in whatever it is seers do. Which is not much as far as I can tell. Seers know all the prophecies, they bloody well created most of them, so why aren’t they looking for her? And The Temple is far too corrupt, she’ll find no wisdom there. Who’d ever of thought that religion could lose its spirituality, ehh? Hah!
‘Hmph. I think a few visits are on the agenda, Mr Dubbins, to give these people a piece of my mind!’
Mr Dubbins suddenly stopped purring and stared, golden eyes wide, at the horizon. A horrible prickling danced up Edarna’s back. She glanced out at where the cat looked.
‘Oh my!’ she breathed.
Just past the horizon were fast moving ships, their black masts splayed wide made them look like giant hideous spiders. There were several ships. She had seen them before and she
didn’t think they were coming for her and Mr Dubbins.
‘If my feelings serve me correctly, Celene is in terrible danger,’ she whispered.
Chapter 24
Shrinking Potion
EDARNA rolled off the rock and ran all the way back to her house, Mr Dubbins trailing along behind her.
‘I knew our time to leave would come,’ she said to the blue cat who sat purring and smiling up at her as she gathered some clothes into a sack, ‘I just never knew it would come quite so quick. The Immortal Lord’s noose is tightening around Frayon. First Kammy, now Celene. They have finally come to the west and now so far south… With the east gone we are totally surrounded!’
Edarna stopped to catch her breath, ‘Oh my. We must warn Celene but it’ll be too late by then! It’ll take me half a day to make that bloody potion as it is. And that’s another thing, Mr Dubbins, you’ll be coming with me this time!’ The cat meowed then hissed then ran out of her bedroom. Edarna grinned wickedly.
‘We must try to get to Celene,’ she called after the cat. ‘Lady Eleny I think her name is,’ she vaguely remembered a kind fair-haired woman she had met briefly at the Mid Summer Celebrations many years ago. ‘I’ll not go to the Temple there, that’s for sure!’ She shuddered, remembering the other cold-hearted fair-haired woman who had been in charge of the Temple of Celene. ‘What a great person to be in control of religion!’
Edarna shook her head and went to a heavy chest draped over with cloth and securely locked with a padlock as big as her fist. No key could unlock the lock and she whispered her witch’s spell instead. The lock clicked open and she heaved up the lid.
‘Oh,’ she smiled and reached in gently, tenderly picking up her neatly folded moss green witch’s robe. She stroked it and reached into the folds, carefully drawing out her foot long hazel beam wand. She sighed forlornly and set them aside. Beside them was another smaller chest, also locked, and she pulled it out. Whispering another word the lock opened and she pushed back the lid.
It smelt musty and very bad as she peered inside and she had to lean back to get some fresh air. ‘Great Goddess! At least they’re still fresh,’ she spluttered. She peered back inside. There were several glass jars and vials ranging from no bigger than a thimble to about the size of an apple.
‘It can take a lifetime to get all of these ingredients, Mr Dubbins,’ she breathed and then coughed, ‘and a week to prepare them. Luckily I have done all the hard work already,’ Edarna smiled smugly at her own preparedness. ‘We live in uncertain times,’ she murmured picking up a vial.
‘Eye of newt,’ she peered at the small black slimy thing in the dark magenta glass. She picked up the biggest jar and a blackish-green patch of tough leathery material shimmered within, ‘Scale of dragon. Nearly cost me me life that did!’ she set it down and picked up a smaller jar.
‘Wing of bat, poor thing,’ she sighed. She set it aside and rummaged around in the case. ‘Now let’s see, what else is here.’
She rummaged around. Dried lavender, Deven Star root, cocoa leaves, dried Mavy’s kelp, red and black lintel weed. So that leaves the final ingredients that can only be used fresh. Feather of bird, it was always best using the feather of a bird you will be travelling on, which meant her usual mode of transport, a gull. Sea salt and fresh green grass. And what else, ah yes, cat’s whisker.
‘Mr Dubbins!’ she shouted out loudly but he did not appear.
In fact after an hour searching she still could not find the cat. ‘Sodding cat! Never here when you need him,’ she sighed and got on with everything else.
By the time her small cauldron was bubbling upon its stand it was already past dinner time. Despite the worry that knotted Edarna’s stomach, many years as a witch forced patience upon her. There was no rushing these things. Edarna settled down to a huge bowl of pumpkin soup, brown bread and smoked fish.
The smell of food proved irresistible to the blue cat and, as she suspected, it wasn’t long before a sheepish looking Mr Dubbins peered around the kitchen door. They eyed each other cautiously. Edarna didn’t even blink as she chewed upon the bread and swallowed. Slowly her eyes dropped to the plate of fish beside her, the cat followed her gaze and seemed to freeze.
‘That gull has more guts than you do you wimp. He even pulled the feather out himself. One of your whiskers belongs in that pot there, otherwise they’ll be no fish for you and no meal ever again when the Maphraxies land here. The cat meowed plaintively and seemed to pour himself through the door. ‘I don’t like it either, you know how sick this stuff makes me. We have no choice, the world is in terrible danger. So if you can spare a whisker we might actually survive to have another meal!’
After a plate of smoked fish and much convincing the cat suffered a whisker to be drawn from his face, but not without a lot of crying and meowing afterwards.
‘Will you quit that racket!’ Edarna squealed.
All pain and grievances were immediately forgotten as she shoved another portion of fish his way. He hungrily tucked in. Edarna dropped the whisker into the cauldron and stirred it with a thick wooden spoon. The sun had now set but the potion would not be ready until an hour or so after sunrise.
‘Their is no rushing this, Mr Dubbins,’ she sighed worriedly, ‘we may well be too late. But these are the last of my ingredients and if I mess this up there’ll be no leaving this place ever again. I hope you’ve said your goodbyes to the mice, we won’t be returning for a very long time. If ever.’
The thought made her sad. She would be homeless for a long time like she had been before. Perhaps she could seek out other witches, hidden as they were about the Known World. Maybe they could rekindle the Coven in secret.
‘Only when I have visited the Oracle and the Seers of Myrn thereafter. Maybe then I’ll have a better idea about what to do next,’ she sighed, stirring the pot absently. ‘Issa needs our help. She needs everybody’s help.’
In the next few hours before bedtime Edarna packed her few belongings into the smallest chest. A change of clothes, a bag of food enough for two meals (she was a witch, she could forage from the forest, or pretty much anywhere, better than anyone else could), her witch’s robe and wand. Lastly she stuffed in her thick spell-book. She locked the chest and with a witch’s command the wooden chest shrunk to half its original size. Now she could hold it under her arm easily.
Edarna settled down on her bed to sleep but couldn’t sleep. She thought she would grow old and die here on her tiny island, but it seemed the goddess required more of her. And if indeed it was the Goddess of the Night that required a witch’s skills and wisdom then she would not deny Her. She would miss her bed, her oven, these four walls and roof she had built with her own bare hands. Or rather witch’s magic and a little help from the gulls.
When thoughts of her home turned to thoughts of Celene she slipped into an uneasy nightmarish sleep where Dread Dragons brought fire and necromancers stole souls.
The sun rose and an exhausted Edarna rose with it. The cauldron was still warm though the fire beneath it had gone out. She poured the tan coloured liquid into a pint-sized glass and tried not to vomit at the sight of black lumps floating in it.
‘Don’t look, Mr Dubbins,’ she said. He meowed and scowled.
Edarna quickly cleaned the cauldron and with a word it shrunk small enough to fit in her pocket. ‘Right,’ she said picking up the pint of vomit-looking liquid, ‘let’s go call the gull.’ With her chest of belongings under one arm she left her house forever. She stood in the garden beside the washing line, and made a strange crying sound that sounded uncannily like a gull.
‘He better come,’ Edarna said glaring up at the sky. In the next moment a gull swooped low and landed beside her. It was a young male already as big as the cat was. Mr Dubbins did not like gulls and he hissed at it. The gull made a deafening cry as if laughing at the pathetic cat.
‘You know what we need,’ she said to the gull who stared at her unblinking with fierce eyes. ‘Safe transport to the Isle of
Celene, or any safe ground before the potion wears off.’
The gull twisted its head and peered one-eyed at the pint of awful liquid.
‘As you know I am very generous in my payments. You can now have a free nesting spot in my now unused chimney,’ Edarna said magnanimously.
The gull looked at the chimney then back at the witch then cawed loudly.
‘All right! And fish, fish when we get there, only if we get there safely! Praise the goddess, gulls strike a hard bargain,’ she grumbled.
Gulls were fickle and looked down upon the ridiculous looking humans. Humans were to be stolen from and laughed at at every opportunity, or so gulls thought.
‘That’s settled then,’ Edarna sighed and grimaced at the foul liquid.
She poured a small amount of it into Mr Dubbins’s water bowl. He looked up at her with bared teeth. ‘We’ll drink it together, all right?’ she smiled weakly. It was the worst potion she ever had to make, but possibly the most powerful as well.
‘I’m too old for this, I’m sure,’ she remembered how ill she had felt for a week after. Unable to use magic, not even to scry with, unable to even think, really. But it was drink it or watch the world die at the hands of the Maphraxies, and then watch yourself die too.
‘All right, one, two, three!’ she quickly tipped the liquid to her mouth and swallowed.
She tried to shut all else out, the foul taste, the lumps that clogged her throat, the feeling that maybe something wasn’t quite dead in it, until, blessedly, it was gone. She dropped the glass on the grass and clamped her hands to her mouth to keep it from coming back up. Mr Dubbins had done his part but refused to look at anything but the ground in front of his feet.
The gull eyed them curiously. The potion worked quickly. Suddenly the house and the garden and the gull doubled in size. There wasn’t the gradual shrinking that would have been almost enjoyable, no. There was a brief pause. Mr Dubbins was now the size of a mouse, he turned to look up at her wide-eyed in terror and meowed but his meow came out a squeak.