Celestia nodded regally. As she’s the eldest, it’s her duty to watch over us. Elise shook her head and withdrew her arm from around me. She wanted no part in the witchcraft to come. I hesitated, I admit. A part of me wanted to wait by the fireplace, to warm up, to forget. But a greater part of me wanted to know what would come to pass, even if this would cost me dearly later. I shuffled to Celestia even as Elise joined Merile.
The witch grinned at me, somehow pleased by my choice. “You watch. No more. No matter what come pass.”
I gripped Celestia’s hand before I realized what I was doing, and forced myself to loosen my hold. She laced her fingers between mine. Our hands were so very cold, even as they had company.
The witch picked up the cup with both hands and stirred the contents. She brought it up to her blue-tinted lips and exhaled from between her crooked teeth. The exhale lasted for a long time—not as if it came from the bottom of her lungs, but from the bottom of her soles. No, not even from her soles, but from under the creaking floorboards, from the very soil of the empire.
She lowered the cup to the same level as her heart. A thin wisp of golden mist coiled up from the cup. The cottage filled with the faintest scent of summer, mixed with moments before rain, blending with that of honey pastries and backstreet alleys, and then sharpening to a piercing moment of… betrayal. I don’t know why I thought of all these things, but I know I wasn’t mistaken.
I shuffled even closer to Celestia, farther away from the witch.
The witch circled the table once more, chanting under her breath. The tone was low, barely more than a growl. But I felt it vibrate under my feet. With each round the witch made, the trembling intensified. Once she started the fifth round, I glanced up, expecting to see the dried herbs and leaves rain upon us. But not a leaf shifted.
Celestia kissed the side of my head. We shouldn’t say a word, lest the spell might break. Both of us cared too deeply for Alina to risk that, and so we stood there, the thundering of our hearts the only sound we made.
The witch lowered the cup at Alina’s feet. She formed a cup of flesh with her palms and waited till the golden mist filled it to the brim. When she drifted to offer it to our sister, it seemed to me her feet no longer touched the floor.
“Part lips,” the witch whispered. “Taste now.”
And as ordered, Alina’s lips parted. She breathed through her mouth, inhaling the golden mist.
“Follow trail back to we.”
Alina’s body tensed, from the tip of her toes to the top of her head—clearly she was going to have another spasming attack! If Celestia hadn’t held on to my arm tight, I would have rushed to Alina. I had to remind myself that I’d chosen to watch. I could have chosen not to. It was too late to regret my choice. Perhaps that was a lesson of sorts to me.
“Come back,” the witch repeated.
Alina’s spine arched so steeply that a cat could have leaped between her and the table. The witch brought her hand against my sister’s heart and gently pushed her down. My sister didn’t remain still for long. Her feet and head lifted up, up till she bent like the letter U.
“Come back to sisters. Come back to world.”
With these words, Alina went limp. Then a shudder ran through the whole length of her body. Another one. Four of them altogether. She went limp again. The witch smiled.
“Open eyes.”
I held my breath, and so did Celestia. For a moment, nothing whatsoever happened, and I feared the witch had failed, that her magic had hurt our sister, that she was lost permanently in the world beyond this one.
Alina’s eyes flung open. She blinked rapidly, and then she swung up to sit on the table so that she faced Celestia and me. She said, “My eyes are open. They’ve been that way all the time.”
I rushed to her then, and so did Celestia. We embraced her together, not quite sure how to place our arms. A moment later, Elise and Merile joined the embrace. We held her, each other, kissing temples and foreheads, rejoicing at being five again, being together.
“It be done.”
The witch’s croak broke us apart. We shuffled on both sides of Alina, so that she could make her way to our sister. I didn’t exactly want to move farther away from her, but you couldn’t very well oppose a witch’s will. No matter how seeing her might frighten my sister.
But instead, Alina stared at the witch in childlike fascination. “You are cloaked in shadows.”
The witch grinned at her, offering a steaming cup. Whether it was the same she’d used before or a different one, I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t even want to guess.
Alina accepted the cup, but suspicion narrowed her deep-set eyes.
“Drink it,” the witch said. “No trick hide honey.”
Alina still hesitated. She tasted just a little. A timid smile spread across her face, and it warmed my heart to such degree I couldn’t even remember how it felt to be cold. “Tastes like summer.”
It was then that the guards grew impatient. Captain Janlav—for who else would dare—knocked on the door. The knob turned, but the door wouldn’t budge.
“Men. Always in haste.” The witch glared sideways at the door. To us she said, “Stop feeding little one potions. No shadow ever harm me.”
The door rattled as if a thunder were about to roll in. The witch tossed a loose end of her shawl over her shoulder. It was then that I realized it wasn’t made of fabric, but a shadow of a cat. Scribs, you must believe me, this is what I saw with my very own eyes.
The door flung open, and Captain Janlav stumbled in. Noticing that we all were by the table, that we couldn’t have possibly unlocked the door for him, he muttered, “So it was only stuck.”
Then he noticed Alina, sitting on the table’s edge, dangling her feet in the air. His gaze brightened and his foul mood practically leaked out of his body. “The little one is up?”
Alina set the cup down next to her. She smiled at Captain Janlav as if he were our brother, not a soldier overseeing our imprisonment. Captain Janlav strode to her and tousled her gray-brown hair. He was so glad to see her well that he didn’t notice the whispered conversation that occurred between Celestia and the witch.
Scribs, again, I wasn’t eavesdropping, but this is what they said to each other.
“You.” The witch grabbed Celestia’s arm. She pressed a small leather pouch into her hand. “Unwanted it be now. But later may be none.”
“A deal is a deal,” Celestia replied, pursing her hand against the witch’s. “Regardless of the cost.”
And Scribs, that was it. Celestia’s end of the bargain.
Coldness entered the cottage in the shape of a snowy gust. The guards peered in, one after another, but didn’t dare to enter. Captain Janlav must have told them to wait outside.
“We should return to the train now,” Captain Janlav said. He must have been afraid of the witch, to a degree at least, for he avoided addressing her.
I wanted to protest and say that we really could stay longer, but I didn’t. We had to act smart. The witch couldn’t help us. She’d said as much. Now that Alina was well, we should obey the guards meekly, so that when the time came to put Celestia’s plan into action, they wouldn’t see it coming.
“Piggyback?” Alina asked, of all things!
Captain Janlav actually laughed. Elise swayed, as if this one sound had been a key to a lock that she’d thought forever rusted shut. He turned his back to our little sister and said, “Hop on then.”
He didn’t need to urge my sisters and me out. Celestia went first, because she’s the eldest. I followed Elise. Merile came after me with her rats. Not one of us glanced back. Not even me, though I was tempted. Beard held the rear, seemingly relieved that we hadn’t attempted to flee. The witch didn’t call after us, didn’t dash out of her cottage at the last moment, nothing like that. Why would she have?