«So you enchanted the morgens and the mermaids?»
«They are only the ones who attacked me first.»
«I thought you killed them.»
«You can’t kill them completely. They’re immortal.»
«Are you?»
Rokuela looked like an immortal creature. She may have looked young, but her gray hair and the ancient wisdom in her eyes made her seem like a very old woman.
«It’s a very touchy subject,» she brushed her cheekily aside. «You know you’re not supposed to ask a woman her age or her mortality.»
Surely there are many witches who want to be immortal, and that might offend them. Take Ornella, for example. Ask her if she’s mortal and you’ll get a harsh rebuke and a tantrum. Many arrogant women would like to consider them exclusively immortal fairies.
Inside the witch’s cottage was even more intimidating. Here were prepared potions of dubious ingredients, hung bundles of black herbs, in bottles instead of models of ships were sharpened rainbow and miniature storm. It’s magic! Fiona went to the window to touch a garland of dried starfish. Immediately a flock of aggressive rain spirits ogled at her from the shroud of rain. They hovered over the bridges. Each one was no bigger than a cat, but they had the fury of a lion. One spirit tried to grab hold of Fiona’s arm and douse her in salt water.
«Close all the windows!» Rokuela’s shrill command drew the shutters shut abruptly, but they shut on her command as if the house were a living organism over which the Sea Witch could have no control.
«And don’t look out, or the rain spirits will find a way to get in and tear you to pieces!»
«But why is it?» Fiona wondered. What had she done to them?
«You’re a redhead!» She pointed to her disheveled curls as if that explained everything.
«And you’re against redheads, too, like Ornella, because all redheads are witches, etc., etc.»
You’d think rain spirits weren’t witchy creatures themselves!
«It’s not about the legend of the red-haired punisher! The strands of your hair are like real fire in color. And the rain spirits hate anything fiery and are bent on destroying it.»
That’s right! She remembered how fiercely they attacked the fire spirits, and they were afraid of them. The rain spirits do have the power to defeat fire.
«And what is the tale of the red-haired punisher? I’ve never heard of such a thing!» Fiona looked at the fireplace, somehow full of water and covered by a glass screen. Inside it, as if it were an aquarium, some horrible sea creature languished. A veritable monster! In the various vials on the shelves were also imprisoned water creatures: jellyfish, stingrays, octopuses, and many unimaginable creatures whose names Fiona did not know. In one vial were shimmering real stars, as if Rokuela had managed to pull them down from the heavens.
Fiona tried to uncork the bottle, but the mistress of the lodge stopped her.
«Don’t dare!»
«What’s inside? Are they stars?»
«Have you ever heard the stories about the people who let the genies out and paid for their curiosity!»
Fiona didn’t want to be lectured, so she obediently put the vial back.
«You can spend the night here!» Rokuela threw a blanket over the narrow thatch bunk. «I have business to run tonight, so I won’t be constrained by you. But don’t touch anything while I’m gone, or there’ll be more repercussions later than from the war. The power imprisoned in the vials is dangerous.»
«I see!» Fiona made a vow not to touch anything here again. She didn’t want to get hurt or unleash a water demon at all.
«We’ll talk a little while before the rain stops,» the landlady pointed to the chairs and table made from shells. The screen beside them was also covered in shells, like bas-reliefs.
«You could make it rain, but you couldn’t make it stop?» Fiona guessed, taking a seat on the rickety shell stool.
«You can’t do everything at once. One magic on top of another is too much,» said Rockwell admonishingly. «If you knew more about magic, you’d understand.»
«But I’m not a witch! Ornella only called me that to send me to the bonfire.»
«I’ll look into your past myself if I want to,» Rokuela barked at her and placed an elegant mirror framed in monograms and seashells on the table. «It reveals the past and present very well, but it is not always exact for the future.»
«So you cannot tell a lie,» Fiona summed up. «You know I’m just a mill girl, not a witch, not a princess to rival Ornella.»
Rokuela didn’t let her finish her sentence.
«You must have some talent!» With the intonation of a seer she proclaimed. «I can see that!»
«Well!» Fiona shrugged hesitantly. «I can do a bit of needlework and cross stitch. I make a good tasty dish from mushrooms I pick in the woods and muffin tarts. Well, and to spin good yarn, besides me, all the peasant women know how to do. So it probably doesn’t count as a talent anymore.»
«We’re talking about magical talent!» Rokuela interrupted her. «What’s that got to do with embroidery and cooking?»
«I’m sorry, but I didn’t know about magic.»
«What if you found a dusty old book in the attic of your mill, written in ancient writings, and realized that you could read them, even if you were illiterate? Such books have a habit of calling you by name or you begin to be drawn to them by some irresistible force. You just want to open them, even if they are chained.»
«It is exactly! There was one such book! Found it among old junk and sacks of flour. Probably one of the rich customers had forgotten it. I mistook it for a casket because the binding was decorated with jasper, and thin chains and a lock set around it. I never managed to open it. I exchanged it for a new dress at a box man.»
«You are silly! You’ll trade your own head for something. Do you know what treasure you’ve lost?»
«But the dress was of real silk, like a noblewoman’s. The butler gave it up for that book.»
«That book could have been your friend and advisor for all eternity. It was a big risk, though,» Rockwell said with a frown. «You can’t keep that quiet, either. As a rule, only potential students of the School of Witchcraft could get their hands on such witchcraft volumes. It’s a place like a black palace, hidden under a veil of invisibility, where spirits train young wizards. It will cost you your soul, but you’ll gain eternal youth and power. You can eventually become queen yourself by wresting someone else’s throne with the help of charms.»
«I’m not Ornella… I don’t have her ways.»
«That’s right! Ornella would not let such a valuable book out of her claws.»
«Naturally, she would be attracted to jasper. She loves sparkling stones!»
«I don’t mean the cost of the binding!» Rokuela was indignant. «Wizards are the richest people in the world, not because they hoard treasure, but because they know how to acquire it by means of charms. I’ve known magicians who lost a fortune in a night at the gambling houses, and the next morning they were rich again. It is as if the gold had grown in the palms of their hands.»
«How is that?»
«The book you sold in exchange for silk rags would have told you everything.»
«Told?! Books can’t talk.»
«Magical books do. Besides great knowledge, they hold great power. If the mistress of such a book were attacked and tried to drag her to the fire, the nearest houses and mountains would collapse, burying all but you.»
Now, that is really tempting! Unless Rokuela is lying and exaggerating, she could use a magic book. Fiona imagined Ornella telling her guards to drag her out of the mill, and the walls of the building and the windmills collapsing on the heads of the guards.
