Page 18 of The Noldrin Witch

She didn’t even need to go to the nearby well to fetch water. Morgaine said the dwarf who had built the house had also created a system for water to run through pipes for both the house and the garden. This had been, to Elise, the most fascinating discovery since her arrival. The more she understood about the hidden magic of the world, the less inclined she felt to return to the life she had known. Mysterious and dangerous as the magical world appeared, it had so far shown itself no worse than finding lodging in Metz.

Just as Elise was drying her bowl and setting it on the cabinet with the others, a strong gust of wind blew the door open. She knew at once it had not been a good day for Morgaine.

The witch’s foul moods showed themselves in brief conversation and hurried meals. On such days, Morgaine preferred the company of her potions to that of Elise, but Elise had learned to draw her back with a well-timed indulgence. Today, she had prepared a pie with fruit from the stunt apple tree behind the house.

She needed only to keep Morgaine content through supper, then entice her to follow her to the Tailor’s Room, where Elise was certain the witch’s mood would improve at once.

“I have a surprise for you, Morgaine,” Elise said, unable to contain a hint of excitement, just as Morgaine was finishing half the pie.

“Another dress suited for royalty?” Morgaine said with a faint smile.

Elise shook her head. “This one is meant for you. I call it A Night Out.”

“Ha,” the witch laughed. “That I have to see.”

With Morgaine’s spirits already improved by Elise’s enthusiasm, Elise led her to the room where the audacious dress stood on a padded mannequin, ready to provoke a reaction.

“For the devil’s sins!” Morgaine exclaimed at the sight of the dress. “You did this with those pious hands of yours?”

Elise nodded, pleased. A sense of relief and pride settled over her. She was beginning to understand Morgaine’s sense of style, and with it the allure of so many Bromheim women. Virtue, it seemed, differed from kingdom to kingdom, beginning with clothing and ending in matters where clothing was of little use.

“Why don’t you try it,” Elise said as Morgaine ran her fingers along the hems of the bodice.

The witch turned to her with a mischievous smile and said nothing. Elise watched, curious at first, then less so as the silence lingered. The longer Morgaine inspected the dress and glanced at her from time to time, the less certain Elise felt things would go her way.

She had noticed that Morgaine liked to try new designs and, when in such high spirits, enjoyed sharing her stories with any willing ear. Elise had not discouraged this, and by now she was well acquainted with the war and a fair portion of the local lore. But now Morgaine was dangerously quiet, as if an idea were just beginning to simmer in her mind, and she suspected the witch had been kind enough to include her in it.

Morgaine finally spoke, sparing Elise from accumulating further worries about her host’s intentions.

“I need you to go to the city,” Morgaine said. “And I would like nothing better than to see you make your entrance in something more suited to the fashions of these lands.”

“What?”

“Wear the dress, dear,” Morgaine said plainly.

Elise almost blushed after one glance at the low neckline of the blouse. “But…the dress is made for you.”

Morgaine shook her head. “From what I can see, it would suit you just as well.”

“But, madam…” Elise hesitated, already imagining the walk through town in such revealing attire. After all, her morals had yet to make the journey from Noldrin.

“It will be a first test,” Morgaine added. “I’ll give you a potion to protect you.”

“My first test to become a witch?” Elise gasped.

“You don’t like to waste time, do you?” Morgaine said. “We’ll start with something simple. Then we’ll see.”

Chapter 9

Morgaine entered her Potion Room still thinking of the dress Elise had made for her. In truth, she had found the design absolutely exquisite: perfect cleavage, a most appropriate opening in the skirt, and a bodice designed to accentuate what mattered most. She had wanted to put it on at once. The garment was a classy piece no witch could ditch, particularly one with her frame.

But after the sizable dinner, she hadn’t wanted to disappoint Elise by not fitting into the delicate garment. She would wear it later, perhaps for the First Bloom. Devon was going to be there. That devil. Elise’s dress was sure to turn heads, even those that rarely looked away from their own reflection.

Morgaine kept thinking about the dress and the spectacular entrance she would surely make at the coming witches’ festival. Her beloved fellowship of witches would attend without fail. She rarely saw those old hags, and she knew that by now they would have accumulated a fair share of complaints about the war to entertain a whole year of gossip.

As she fetched one of her cauldrons and set fire to prepare a potion for Elise, she started wondering if it would be sensible to bring the girl with her. When using her Mirror of Daimor she had seen nothing that suggested the girl could bring trouble. Elise had surprised Morgaine every single day with her committed work and practiced hand. Her energy had manifested in an almost invasive presence of squirrels in her garden. The animals always appeared when a strong force was at work. And seeing this sign, Morgaine could not dismiss the possibility of Elise having potential for magic after all.

The girl had already proven to have her own kind of magic. It took one look around the Potion Room for Morgaine to see that all her glass, cauldrons, books, and herbs could use Elise’s miraculous cleaning spell. The room hadn’t been dusted in a decade, and even if Morgaine was no snob for grime, she was beginning to see the appeal.