The idea was not appealing. Despite the bone-aching tiredness, I didn’t want to waste time resting. I could rest when I got home, safe in my own bed, with Mum fussing and making all my favourite foods. Her coddling could be intense at times, but my chosen career wasn’t always cute puppies and kittens. Sometimes it was hard. On days like that, I was grateful for Mum and her fussing. I’d lap it up when this was over. Tears sprang to my eyes again, but I blinked them away. I had long since learnt to hold my emotions at bay. It was a necessity, really, in my line of work. I had to be the strong, steady one, while others dissolved into grief. I’d been present through countless goodbyes. I could handle this.
“My parents are looking for me,” I sniffed. “I have to go.”
Sage appeared at Hyacinth’s elbow. “You will never make it back to the human world if you charge ahead without a plan. Would your parents prefer to have you delivered safely if a little late, or not at all?”
Hyacinth shifted, her face the image of sympathy, but she didn’t argue my cause. “Come. Let us get you settled. Granny will want to see you, and those fingers look sore. Let us tidy you up.”
With no other immediate option open to me, I nodded. I was sore. My nails were throbbing. Probably infected. There wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t hurt. Hyacinth smiled encouragingly, leading me across the chamber, past the silently watching women. Witches, I assumed. I thought of Sage’s portal and shivered; if they could do that, there was no telling what terrible powers they might have. Did they turn people into frogs? Would I become a frog? The thought should have sent me running down the corridors, screaming for help, but I couldn’t find any resistance left in me. Was this the shock equivalent of grief’s acceptance stage? I didn’t believe any of it, but so far, not believing had gotten me nowhere. I was past caring, as long as the witches helped me get home.
“We will get you some proper clothes,” Hyacinth said, misreading my shudder. “Though you are a little tall.”
I gave a weak smile. If they thought I was wearing too-short clothes, they could think again. As a tall woman, there was little worse than a hem that missed its mark. I would make do with my shorts and T-shirt a while longer, even if they were filthy. My life was shaping up to be bad enough without the addition of awkwardly fitting clothes. Besides, I’d be home soon. I had to be. I’d have no need of their ugly garments.
I meekly followed Hyacinth through the door I’d spotted earlier, out into a wide corridor that looked like something from a fairy tale castle with its vaulted ceilings, tiled floors and candles burning in brackets. Sage stalked along at my other side, her short strides quick. We passed a cluster of women, gathered around a window, who all did double takes when they saw me, and followed my progress with wide eyes.
“Did you see that?” one hissed.
“Was that a human?”
I blocked out their words. I had no idea what time it was, but it had already been a long day. Longer even than yesterday. The last thing I wanted or needed was to be gawked at like some endangered animal at the zoo. I felt freakish enough, towering head and shoulders over my escorts, without the human obsession.
Hyacinth led us out through some open doors, into a balmy courtyard. Shaded walkways spanned the edges, but the middle was full of neat lawns and beds of plants and flowers. Benches were spaced along paths of gravel. The scent of the nearby ocean mingled with the delicate perfume of flowers.
“This is a communal area,” Hyacinth said with a bright smile. “Feel free to come here if you ever need a little air. It is open night and day.”
I didn’t like the way she spoke, as though I’d be staying long enough to make use of the facilities, but it was pointless to argue. Nobody seemed to care that I didn’t want to be here. If I was going to find my way home, I would just have to cooperate, at least until I figured out my own plan. We skirted the garden, drawing yet more whispers from the women enjoying the sunshine. Some were young, others old. I spotted a white-haired old lady leaning on a cane. There were no men. No children.
Back into the chilled shade of the building we went, up stone staircases and down long passages, while I looked about with mounting interest. Though the passages were busy, I saw only women.
“Don’t you have any wizards here?” I asked.
Hyacinth shot me a questioning look, but it was Sage who answered. “There are no males within these halls. Witches are all born female.”
I frowned. “How do you… have kids?”
Sage smirked. “When a man and a woman love one another—”
“Don’t tease,” Hyacinth snapped. “The poor girl knows nothing.”
“I know plenty,” I insisted, blushing. “I obviously know how babies are made, but what I meant was, you need men for that. Unless witches can reproduce asexually.”
“What?”
Ha. Finally. I knew something they didn’t. The little spark of triumph glowed all the brighter in such a dark nest of emotion. “Reproduce without a partner.”
Sage laughed. “No, we are not like that. We require a male. Unfortunately, we do not have any. No witches have been born in many years.”
“But if you’re all born female—”
“Humans,” Sage said simply. “Human males, brought through the rift. But you are the first of your kind to come here in a long, long time.”
“You bring human men through the rift? As studs? Do they have a choice?”
Sage gave me a wry smirk. “There were plenty of volunteers, believe me. They were well kept and enjoyed their duties. We were once able to be selective, choosing only the finest specimens to enhance our lines, but now, I fear compromises would be made should a male become available.”
That was one way of putting it.
“Anyway, here we are.” Hyacinth pushed open a large door, revealing a sunlit bedroom beyond. “Your quarters. They are comfortably equipped.”
I stepped cautiously into the room. Comfortably equipped was an understatement. It was just like a dream. A large four-poster bed stood on a dais opposite the door, draped in heavy cream curtains embroidered with pink blossoms. An elaborate wardrobe and matching table stood to my right, with a dressing table further along the wall, just past a closed door. A low table and a selection of chairs clustered around a large fireplace, and a desk was tucked under one window. The room was almost as big as my entire house.
“Wow,” I said, despite myself.
“I will see to the fire.” Sage crossed the room.
This time, I watched her closely. The witch stacked logs in the grate, but she didn’t use matches or a lighter or whatever tools they might have used in the old days. Instead, she merely whispered something and clicked her fingers. A flame sparked to life in the logs, catching quickly. I gulped.
“You will be given a guide to settle you in and help you find your way about,” Hyacinth explained as she pulled open the wardrobe, frowning at its contents. “The neophytes once tended to our needs and such when they were not in lessons. They have all long since graduated into fully fledged witches, and so we share menial duties amongst us all. That does mean we try to maintain our quarters ourselves, to make the work a little easier. I’m afraid that will apply to you, too.”
“Okay,” I said blandly, as though I intended on having an extended stay.
I drifted to the windows and peered out. The drop was dizzying, made so much worse by the sheer cliff that plunged down to the churning water, far below. There would be no escape through the window. It didn’t matter. I’d just have to find another way.
Scraping and tinkling drifted from behind me, along with the rustle of fabrics.
“Aliza, come. Sit.” Sage commanded me like a dog. I wrestled my frown into submission before turning to find the witch gesturing to a chair before the fire. “Let me see your wounds.”
Passing Hyacinth, now laying numerous dresses out on the bed, I sank into the chair. I almost moaned with relief as I settled into the plush cushions, letting my head loll back. I hadn’t realised just how much I needed a soft seat after a night of bark biting my arse. The armchair was absolute bliss. Sage knelt before me, eyeing my scabbing knee with distaste.
