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I am suspicious of her boast but hold my tongue. I have seen my mother floating like a feather upon the wind, so perhaps Ágota can as well.
“Was the prince handsome?” I ask.
“Oh, no! Drago? was dreadful. He had a thick mustache and very black hair. His face was like this,” Ágota scrunches up her face, lowering her eyebrows into a straight line “and he always talked like he was shouting. But when he saw our mother, he loved her.”
“She is very beautiful,” I say, my tiny fingers drawing a nut from the depths of the basket. I crack it open against the tree trunk.
“Drago? loved her. He gave her a fancy house next to the river. There were even servants! Mama wore the finest dresses and her hair was piled on top of her head. Every day we ate the best food! It was all very nice. But when Drago? visited, it was very grand. I even had to dress up and wear my hair up! Even though I thought Drago? was very loud, I liked him. He made Mama laugh and gave her many presents. Sometimes,” she says leaning toward me with a wink, “he brought me presents, too. Like this!”
I admire the simple gold bracelet around her wrist and this pleases her.
“Mama had lots of pretty jewelry, but she had to leave it all behind when we had to run away in the middle of the night!”
Ágota smiles with satisfaction as I gasp.
“When Drago? died in battle, his son came to find Mama and me. To kill us!”
My eyes widen with horror.
With a shrug of one shoulder she says, “Of course, he failed because we are still alive.”
“Where was I?”
“In Mama’s belly. That was why his son and his men came to our house. If you were a boy, then you could cause problems.”
“How?”
In the memory, I cannot grasp what she means, but my adult mind fully understands. If I had been a boy, I would have been a threat. A potential usurper to Drago?’ throne.
Ágota shrugs. “That’s what Mama said when she grabbed me and flew away. They chased us! Even fired arrows at us! But they could not touch us because we were up so high in the sky!”
My mouth forms an “O,” and I wish to see Mama fly that high again. She only flies around when the moon is dark and no one can see. And never higher than the treetops.
“Soon, she had to land, because her powers were waning. For days we were alone. One day, we encountered a caravan. Mama paid them with the jewelry she was wearing for one of the wagons, but she let me keep my bracelet. She had me hide it under my sleeve and never reveal it. We rode with them for a long time. Through the Carpathian Mountains and into the world beyond! Mama would tell fortunes and sometimes make potions to pay our way. I know she was sad, but I liked playing with the other children living in the caravan. And her tummy got bigger and bigger because of you. But none of the men cared. They would knock on our wagon door in the middle of the night and she would send them away. But sometimes they gave us food and other gifts.”
“Because Mama was so beautiful,” I say.
Ágota laughs and threads long strands of grass between her toes. “Oh, yes. But then one night we had to run away again. One of the men got mad at her because she did not want his kisses. She grabbed me and we flew away again. This time we did not find a caravan. We were alone. When I was scared, Mama called wolves to walk with us through their territory. At night they would protect us and keep us warm. Ravens would bring us food. Deer would guide us to water.”
“I like ravens,” I say, smiling.
“Probably because they took such good care of us. And then, one night, Mama could not walk anymore because you wanted to be born. So we made a fire and we waited. You were born during the New Moon when the night is dark and full of stars. Our mother was very weak afterward, and it was I who named you. As I cradled you in my arms close to our campfire, I peered into your golden eyes and saw your name written in their depths. Mama, weakened by your birth, was pleased with my very first portent, and your name was set in the stars.” Ágota leans toward me, grinning. “And that is when I knew I was a witch, too.”
“Am I a witch?” I dig around in the basket, looking for more to eat.
“We do not know yet. We have to wait and see. You might be. If not, I will take care of you.” Ágota hands me a pear from her basket.
Pears are my favorite.
I take it, staring at her curiously. I cannot imagine where she found it. I bite into it and my mouth is filled with sweet fruit. As I eat, Ágota makes a little girl out of twigs. She gives her hair made of grass and a dress made of leaves. I giggle as Ágota brings her to life, making her twirl about on the forest floor. The little twig girl dances around until a strong wind comes and she scatters into pieces.
Disappointed, I start to cry.
Ágota attempts to soothe me, but I am saddened by the demise of the little twig girl.
“Make another, Agy,” I sob.
“I do not have enough magic to make another,” she says. “In a little bit the magic will return to my hands and I will make you a new one.”
