“Sisters, please!” Mrs. France’s assistant pleaded. Her back was to the door where Prin hid, and she sat cross legged on the floor while speaking to her phantom audience. “I called this meeting because I need urgent advice!”
“The rest of us have problems too.” A grumpy old voice proclaimed.
“The youth should wait their turn.” Another agreed.
“I have a household held captive, just for this . . .” The serving girl said. “I’m having difficulties –”
“Oh please, that’s nothing! I could do that in my sleep.” One of the old women interrupted. “I might be holding a whole village captive as we speak, you don’t know!”
A smooth voice, with quiet authority broke in over the noise of the others arguing, the cats yowling, the beginnings of a rainstorm outside. “While it’s true that Lissabet is the apprentice and should not disrespect her elders, as her elders it is our duty to hear her out and help her. Is it not?”
“I suppose.” “Harumph.” “If you say so.” “I never said it wasn’t! Poor lass.” “Where is my snake!?” “Let’s hear her out.”
The voices overlapped again in a cacophony, but seemed to be by and large in agreement.
At least now Prin knew her name. He felt that it was important somehow, to be able to name a thing, or a person, properly. There was power in it.
“Thank you.” Lissabet said. “I know my task is of the lowest order . . . something even I should be able to achieve, and I have been doing it up until now but, it has become more difficult. There is interference . . . Let me ask my sisters, who are so much older and wiser and more cunning than myself, is there ever a point where we let it run its course? Where vengeance is . . . complete? Or, complete enough.”
A collective gasp rose up through the smoke people, and they swirled together in a plume of outraged fervor. Now, they were all in agreement.
“We are never tired of revenge!” “You just want to quit when it gets difficult.” “Abandon our sister who has passed?” “Vengeance until the end of days!” “We’d do it for you, wouldn’t we?” “The curse had no ending date.” “What about our reputation?”
Once again a calm voice rose above the furies. “I think what they’re trying to say is, what can we do to help?”
The girl breathed out a low sigh. “Let me tell you, there are circumstances.”
“Go on.” “We can’t hear you.” “Speak up!”
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She cleared her throat and continued. “In the past I haven’t had any trouble getting rid of those who come to close, but the two men, just boys really, who came here recently . . . I don’t know how to do it.”
“If you can’t run them off just kill them!” “It’s the easiest thing to do.” “Why not?”
“Not like I didn’t think of that!” The apprentice witch snapped. “No. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry. It’s just . . . they reek of a nameless old magic.”
A moment of stunned silence from the peanut gallery followed.
Prin was glad he didn’t just burst in. This could be informative in ways he wouldn’t have imagined.
“Hiding themselves from you.” “Hiding their true selves.” “Witches!” “Could it be a rival coven?” “Dirty sun worshippers, maybe.”
“No. I don’t think so.” The girl said. “Perhaps not entirely human. But I’m not sure how much they even know it themselves. It’s like contamination. And they seem awfully taken in by the blind boy.” She said that as though she couldn’t even speak Valor’s name without gagging, and so had to take pains to avoid it. “They may even be some kind of sleeper agents sent here to protect him without even knowing it.”
“That seems a bit far fetched, dear.” One of the voices said in a kind, if somewhat condescending tone. “Could they also be preying on that horrible family? And see you as a rival.”
“Their guards were down around me until recently. I don’t think they’re on to me.” The girl said. “I just don’t know how to get them out of my way, so that I can continue perpetuating the curse. They’re always hanging around him. And they surely will know me for my truth if this . . . dance continues much longer. Yet I’m afraid to blatantly cross them, because of the magic. I feel like it wouldn’t end well for me.”
“Afraid?” “Coward!” “They can’t be stronger than our coven!” “Stop, she’s just a young girl.” “What kind of old magic can it be, perhaps she should provoke them and find out?” “Lissabet should rather return to us for further training. She clearly wasn’t ready.” “Young fool.” “Incompetent.”
“They may have killed a fellow witch already. Although I’m not sure if she really was one, as I never got close enough to her to sniff her out.” Lissabet said. “Though perhaps not . . . they may not be the ones.”
“Dangerous then?” “How are we to know.” “What if we ask them who they are?” “The cover will be blown, dingbat!” “I know that, harumph. I meant what if it was already?” “This is all too much three months before my birthday.” “We have other things to plan and carry out.”
“Perhaps our youngest sister is right after all.” The smooth even voice, as calming as a shade tree in a meadow, said. “And it is time to end our obligation to feed the curse.”
“Do you mean it?” The girl asked. “As vile as he is, perhaps fifteen years is suffering enough.”
“Fifteen is a mere pittance.” “I have gone that long without changing my dress, it is nothing.” “But how can we end it?” “It’s not nearly long enough.” “If not a snake, then I would settle for a two headed lizard. If that might be more agreeable.”
“The boy is not the real recipient of the curse, merely the conduit.” The head witch continued. “The old man, red beard, he will never have another son.”
There was snickering, and murmurs of agreement from the smoke people. “Never.” “Never.” “He wouldn’t risk it.” “You got that right.”
“I know you were strictly instructed not to let the boy die.” The head witch said. “But I revoke my previous instructions.”
“You mean?” The apprentice asked, her voice disbelieving.
“Yes, you may end the curse, and thus your obligation to stay in a dangerous environment and nurse it along. You have paid your dues, my dear. Done a tedious chore on behalf of the coven. End the curse, kill the son.”