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“I know,” I said. “For a woman to have that kind of power, she’d obviously have to be hideous.”
“You know what I think? I think they just want to believe that they’ll be able to recognize a witch when they see one, so they don’t have to be afraid they’ll inadvertently fuck one.” Glowing green droplets fly from the spoon as she gestures toward the window representing the outside world.
“Because God knows how their tadgers would shrivel at the very thought,” I added.
“Yes!” she agreed. “As if we couldn’t make them see whatever we wanted anyhow.” A sly smile lifts one corner of her mouth. “How old would you guess I am?”
I squinted my eyes at her, pretending to assess her features. “Not a day over twenty-and-three, I’d say.”
By the beatific beam that lit her jade green eyes, I could see the number pleased her.
“Try sixty-and-seven.”
“You’re never.” I shook my head emphatically. “That canna be so.”
“It is sure enough.”
“How’s that possible?” I ask, dialing up the incredulity.
Her wooden spoon swung back toward the cauldron. “That’s me beauty secret right there.”
“But I’ve never seen a potion that can push back the very hands of time. You must be a powerful witch indeed if ye can brew a draught that can do that.”
With her red hair and pointy nose, she looks as sly as a fox. “It’s down to the secret ingredient.” She nudged her chin toward the wall beside Mark’s cage.
Within the gloomy shadow outside the fire’s glow, I couldn’t tell quite what I was looking at until a flare and the crackling fire through a warm glow over the wall.
“Are those—” I fought a gag “foreskins?”
Hanna pulled a face. “Of course not.” She returned to her cauldron and resumed her stirring. “Those are belly buttons. I keep the foreskins in that drawer over there, she said, cutting her eyes toward an old wooden wardrobe covered with herb bundles.
I glanced at my brother, sleeping the sleep of the innocent.
Oh, to assume the world will always be exactly as you left it when you next lifted your eyelids.
The bitter words I’d spoken to Sal echoed in my head and heart.
It’s a family thing. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.
But my brother hadn’t either. Else we’d not be here.
And here had some unique advantages.
I looked from her to the cauldron, window, and door. Then, slowly, an idea began to unfold in my mind.
“Could I try some, do you think?” I asked.
“You?” she asked. “But you’ve nary a wrinkle.”
“You’re off your nut. What do you call this?” I pointed next to my eye.
She leaned in to look, and I made my move.
Grabbing her cloak, I hauled her against the bars and grabbed the knife from her pocket. Our struggle was quiet and quick. She was surprisingly wiry but still susceptible to the persuasive powers of sharp steel. I managed to turn her around, the point of her blade at her throat as the cage swayed.
“Wake him up,” I ordered.
Hanna booted the cage with the heel of her bare foot, and it crashed against the wall.
