Curses and Cream Puffs

Lena was a witch who lived on the edge of the forest. People from the small village thought she was a bit odd, a young woman living alone by the woods, but she had gained a reputation in her village and in many of the others scattered beyond it to the west for her baking skills. It allowed her to get by since she had been on her own since she lost her family. Witches were feared and distrusted throughout the kingdoms of the Privarian Empire. So Lena kept mostly to herself, harvesting her little garden and selling baked goods to the villagers.

Most people thought that witches were nearly extinct now, driven out of the land or killed by witch hunters. There were fewer than there used to be, but many of them just kept their magic secret and blended into society. No covens, no magical celebrations, no offers to read futures in tea leaves.

Sometimes Lena would infuse a bit of magic into her pastries; a spell to lift your spirits after a bad day, one to boost your courage so you can talk to that pretty girl you like, one to help you get over that cold. Some witches bound their magic so that they couldn’t access it again unless the bind was lifted, but Lena couldn’t suppress hers. She had tried not using any for a while and it made her feel sick and shriveled up inside. So she’d found a way to help people without announcing herself as a witch.

She dumped out the little basket of flowers she’d picked from the wildflower patch in the woods. She liked to use edible flowers in her baking sometimes. Lena tied her raven curls back with a ribbon and sat down at the table. She sorted out the flowers and began dusting them with colored sugar to make them sparkle. Then she set to work whipping up some dough for a cherry pie. She was about to roll out the dough when there was a knock at her door. Curious about who would be visiting her this late, she wiped her hands on her apron and opened the door.

“Oh!” she said. “Hello again.” It was the man who’d warned her that she should go home; something about it being dangerous at night. She wondered if he’d heard something; maybe there was a manticore that had wandered down from the White Mountains. He seemed confused to see her.

“I...you live here?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

Lena eyed him warily. “Look, if you’re some kind of pervert that wanders around looking for single women to harass, I should warn you that-“

“No, no. No. It’s nothing like that. I need to find someone and I thought they lived here...I must have been given bad directions.”

“Oh. Well, why don’t you come in and have something to drink?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense. It’s no trouble. I always have plenty of tea and snacks on hand.”

He reluctantly followed her inside and sat down at her little table, glancing at the candied flowers.

“I’m a baker,” Lena explained, bustling around preparing the tea. She filled two teacups and handed one to him. It looked delicate and silly in his hand but he politely sipped the tea. Lena returned to her pie, using her elbow to try and wipe a spot of flour off her cheek.

“So who are you looking for? This is a small village, I probably know them.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

“Are you sure? I’ve lived here for a long time, I know everyone.” She sprinkled some more flour over her dough and picked up her rolling pin, beginning to flatten it out. The man finished his tea and set down the tiny cup.

“I don’t want to frighten you, but there’s been word that there’s a witch hiding in this village.”

Lena froze, her blood turning to ice. “A witch?” she asked, raising her head to look at him. She looked at him more carefully this time and as her gaze flicked over him she spotted the emblem on his shirt. A wolf with a serpent in its jaws. He was a witch hunter. Lena leaped forward, shoving the table toward him so that he toppled out of his chair with a startled yell.

“Hey! What the-“

Lena bolted for the door but he was back on his feet in no time and grabbed her arm just before she could flee.

“Let go of me!” Lena still had the rolling pin in her hand and she smacked his fingers with it. He jerked his hand away, looking at once annoyed and bewildered.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded. Lena fumbled the door open and backed up, brandishing the rolling pin like a sword.

“You hunters are getting creative,” she said. “Normally you just break down the door but here you come along, pretending to be some nice traveler, and waltz right in and drink my tea. Trying to gain my trust before you chop my head off? Do you get some kind of sick thrill out of that?”

“What in the hell are you talking about? I’m not here for you, I’m looking for the witch.” He tried to reach for her arm again but she smacked him the face with the rolling pin.

“Ow! Would you please stop that?”

“If you think I’m going quietly, you better think again, hunter scum.” She jabbed him in the gut with the end of the rolling pin. He managed to yank it out of her hands.

“Would you stop hitting me with this thing and explain why you’re so-“

Lena kicked him in the shin and ran. She darted into the woods and began scrambling up a tree.

“Come down from there.” The hunter was standing at the base of the tree, rubbing his shin.

“Sure, let me just shimmy down real quick so you can kill me,” Lena panted, climbing higher.

“I told you, I’m just here looking for the-“ he paused. “Are you...you’re the witch?” he asked, incredulous. “That’s not possible.”

“Of course it’s possible, you moron.” Lena clung to a thick branch, glaring daggers at him. “Don’t play innocent, like you didn’t know who I was when you came to my home. How did you find out about me?”

“Someone reported a witch living near the woods in this village. I didn’t expect it to be you. Look, I’m tired of shouting can you just come down?”

“Are you crazy? You’re a witch hunter, why the hell would I come down there?”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Lena exclaimed. “It’s actually rather insulting.”

He removed the sword at his waist and tossed it aside. “How about now?”

“Like I don’t know that you have daggers hidden in your boots and your sleeves.” Lena rolled her eyes. He sighed, removing all his hidden daggers and tossing those aside too.

“You’re twice my size, you big oaf, you can kill me with your bare hands.”

“Please don’t make me climb up after you. It’s been a long day. I’m very tired.”

“Oh well I am so sorry to inconvenience you. Why don’t you just collect your fancy little sword, ram it up your stupid hunter butt, and then get out of my town?”

“Wow, you are a mean little thing when you get worked up.”

Lena stuck her tongue out and he sighed again. He sat down on the ground.

“Okay, I’m unarmed and I’m sitting.”

“Hunters have incredible reflexes, you could jump up in a second and grab me by the throat.” Lena scrunched down, clinging more tightly to her branch and stubbornly refusing to come down. Finally he gave in and started climbing up after her. Lena waited until he was just below her and then jumped. Her plan was to summon a little bubble of air to cushion her fall, but he tried to grab her as she went down and instead they both toppled out of the tree. She landed on his chest and he grunted in pain.

She tried to scramble off of him but he caught her around the waist and pinned her to the ground.

“Okay,” he said. “Now that you’re out of the tree, maybe we can-OW, DAMMIT!”

Lena socked him in the ear and tried to squirm away. He pulled her back and pinned her wrists.

“Please, stop hitting me. I’m just trying to talk to you.”

Lena kicked her feet and flailed, trying to get her wrists free. But the bastard was strong. “You have me pinned to the ground against my will,” she snapped. “Is this how you have all your conversations?”

“I’m only holding you down because you keep attacking me,” he said. “Will you please just explain what the hell is going on? How can you be a witch?”

“Easy, I was born one, stupid.”

“But you’re...you don’t look like a witch.”

Lena stopped her thrashing to glare. “What were you expecting, a hunched crone with claws and a snake tongue and glowing red eyes? Only witches who carve away pieces of their soul to conduct dark magic look like monsters, you know. We don’t all do that, it’s actually quite taboo.”

“Look, you can’t stay here. Someone knows or at least suspects that you’re a witch. If I just leave, more hunters will come. You’ve got to come with me.”

“Yeah right, to a jail cell and then a quick hanging.” Lena scowled.

“I won’t tell anyone you’re a witch.”

Lena narrowed her eyes at him. What sort of game was he playing here?

“I can’t fail at this assignment, okay? It’s a long story. And you can’t stay here because it’s not safe. So if you’ll please just come with me, and stop hitting me, I promise I won’t hurt you or lock you up. Okay?”

“How can I trust you?”

“I could’ve killed you by now if I wanted to.”

She supposed that was true.

“And if you’re a witch,” he added, “you could’ve killed me by now too, but you haven’t. You’ve assaulted me a lot but you didn’t use magic on me.”

Also true, and he seemed really dumbfounded by the fact. Lena could use defensive magic, but she was pretty dedicated to helping with her magic instead of harming. This would have been a reasonable exception, and if he did try to kill her, she’d protect herself. But he genuinely didn’t seem to want to kill her.

“So, can we call a truce?” he asked. “I’ll let you up, if you promise to come back with me.”

“Fine,” Lena said through gritted teeth. He slowly let go of her wrists and she scooted back, out of his reach. They stood there eyeing each other as he collected his weapons and put them back on. Lena stood there with her hair a mess, her green eyes watching his every move.

“So, what’s your name anyway?” he asked.

“Lena.”

“I’m Damien.”

“That’s nice. I didn’t ask.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s go back to the house and make it look like there was a struggle.”

They returned to her cottage and feeling a little sad, Lena waved her hand and upended furniture and threw flour everywhere. Damien looked unnerved but said nothing as she went to the kitchen and pulled a cauldron out of the cupboard.

“We can’t travel with that, it’s too big.”

Lena ignored him, waving her hand again and shrinking the cauldron so it could fit in the palm of her hand. She collected her small satchel from the bedroom, shrinking down her books and a couple articles of clothing and tucking those into the satchel as well. She rolled up her candied flowers and took those too, then picked up her rolling pin, stuffing that into the satchel too.

Then she faced Damien and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are we going, or are you going to stand there with that idiotic look on your face all night?”

He grimaced. “This is going to be a very long trip home.”