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The flames licked at her feet. Suddenly it rained. Slanting streams began to put out the fire. The firebirds hissed in displeasure, but could not resist the downpour. They had to fly back to the castle. The wind from the sea carried the murmur of the waves. Thunder and lightning heralded inclement weather, and a woman dressed in white flashed through the crowd. She looked like a sea ghost. Gray curls framed her young face. Heavy strands were held together by combs of large seashells. Her cheekbones and forehead themselves also resembled the shape of seashells. Her eyes sparkled like two magical sapphires.
It was she who was causing the rain, Fiona determined. Unknown how, but definitely her!
The rope burst. Just in time! The hangman and the guards had just had to clear the square, which had been flooded by waves from the sea. There had never been such a flood. Though Fiona was free, she could not swim.
However, the white woman beckoned her. In the empty square she looked even more like a ghost.
«Follow her!» Voices whispered out of the rain.
Fiona gasped. In the streams came the outlines of figures. They were the ghosts of the rain, so much is said. If she saw them, there would be disaster. Only Fiona was already in trouble. She had nothing to lose.
Ornella disappeared from the balcony. Probably didn’t want to get her hair wet. The firebrands hissed discontentedly at the spirits of rain, peering out of the castle windows-boys. Here they found worthy opponents. The rain spirits were no less mischievous. They danced around the walls and spat frozen water at the fire fairies. Some of the rain ghosts clung to Fiona.
«Redhead, like fire,» they howled. «Fire must be put out.»
They threw water on her.
«Let her go!» The white woman commanded as they tried to drown Fiona in the puddles.
The spirits obeyed.
«Come on!» The stranger held out her hand. She herself did not walk, but treaded on the water that flooded the square.
It was frightening to walk with her. She is surely a sorceress! But how else could she be saved? What if they send a chase after her from the king’s castle? She must run! But where could she run? There was only one way. She could throw herself into the waves. But the waves were rolling with something that looked like a shell or a fancy rook. Fiona was pulled into it by a stranger. As it turned out, the shell was able to move.
«It was alive!» shrieked Fiona.
«Don’t worry!» The stranger reassured her. «Anything is better than a fire.»
She might have been right about that, but Fiona didn’t want to drown either, nor did she want to fall into the clutches of the sea king. But it didn’t take long to worry. The shell swam for a while, and then crawled out of the waves and raced down the rain-soaked path. It glided even faster through the puddles than it did through the waves.
Fiona didn’t even dare ask the stranger where they were going.
Sea Witch
Barely had the Sultan’s castle disappeared from view as the white-haired woman sighed in relief. It was evident that her visit to the square had been difficult. Fiona eyed her companion suspiciously. It was as if she had been carried by the sea. The wagon of the great shell slid first through the rain, then through the shore waves, leaving a swirl of foam around it.
«Thank you for bailing me out,» Fiona murmured, though she feared the stranger was leading her into another trap.
«Thank my dislike of the Sultanit’s dynasty, not myself,» the companion straightened the folds of her white garment, which rustled like sea foam, and again it seemed that the slender woman was only part of the sea, like a nymph of waves or a naiad.
«Who are you?»
«I am Rokuela.»
Isn’t that the name Condor said when he sent for someone? But if she dislikes the whole Sultanit’s dynasty, why did she answer his call? Something doesn’t make sense.
«I’m Fiona.»
«I’ve already been informed of you. You’re the girl who attracted all the Sultanit’s princes at once.»
Rockwell’s white curls fluttered in the wind and resembled a whirlwind of snow. Her face was pleasant, but her cheekbones and forehead, shaped like fluted seashells, were a little alarming. She was probably a sea fairy. Only those could have such peculiarities.
While Fiona pondered, they reached the seashell cottage, erected on a tiny island. All the many hedges, fences and gates near it were made of the bones of sea creatures: fish, fairy morgen and even mermaids. Fiona gasped!
«Don’t be so embarrassed!» Rokuela helped her out of the shell, which was left swinging by the shore like a boat.
«This is the sea witch’s house!» Fiona was frightened.
«And I am the sea witch!» Rokuela pulled her forward. «Mostly they call me a sea-teller because I can tell fortunes, but that’s a nickname.»
«I won’t go to the witch’s house!» Fiona was seized by superstitious fear.
«What else can you do? If you hold out, you’ll fall into the claws of griffins. But I’m not going to force you anyway.»
Rokuela adjusted her flowing skirts and walked gracefully forward. What else could Fiona do but follow her. And it was scary to find shelter with a witch, and there was nowhere else to go. It’s scary to even look at the sky. What if Ornella sends griffins with steel claws after her? The scratches from the cave were still aching.
The rain continued to fall. Fiona discerned threads of pearls in the streams, put her palm up and was surprised to catch not hail, but real pearls.
«Throw them away at once!» Rokuela demanded. «The watermen will be furious if you do not. These pearls are only for their brides. The one who keeps them will be hauled to the bottom.»
Fiona obediently unclenched her palm, tossing the pearls away. They did not fall, but dissolved into the rain.
Unusual blue birds with luxurious tails peeked out of the waves and landed on a pile of bones.
«They’re sea-birds, morrilla,» Rokuela explained. «They usually fly only in the open sea. If they land on a kingdom, it won’t be long before it sinks.»
«I hope they fly to Sultanit!» Fiona quipped, but the proud Morillas were not going there. Their feathers were gleaming with real blue precious stones. One of those birds would be worth a chest full of jewels. Fiona opened her mouth in wonder.
«Don’t you dare catch them! The Water King will be furious!» Rokuela warned her.
«I don’t!»
«It’s not beauty that makes them so useful, it’s their strength. They ward off the spirits of rain and wind, so one of them always flies with me.»
Rokuela walked to the lodge. Bridges of skulls led to it on many sides, which made the house look like a huge spider, hanging over the sea on its own legs-bridges. On one side was a harmless bridge of shells. It was less intimidating, so Fiona chose it. But here, too, she stumbled upon a mermaid skeleton stuck like an ornament in a railing of shells.
«What’s the matter with you?» Rokuela wondered. «Have you never seen a live mermaid?»
«I’ve never even seen a dead one before,» Fiona mesmerized, running her finger over the mermaid’s bones and stabbing at the sharp incisions. There were no such notches on human ribs. She’d seen human skeletons in abandoned crypts and cemeteries. Morgen’s skeletons were very different from them. For example, the skull boxes, curled up to the shell-shaped ear area, were definitely those of a sea-dweller.
«And I like to kill them or use them for magic,» Rokuela boasted.
«Won’t the Sea King punish you for what you did to them?»
«The Sea King and I have a special arrangement! He doesn’t touch me, and I don’t touch him. But there was a time of war between me and him…»
The mermaid skeleton suddenly came to life and grinned. Fiona cried out. She had no idea that the hedge was alive. The skeletons it was made of seemed dead.
«So you enchanted the morgens and the mermaids?»
«They are only the ones who attacked me first.»
«I thought you killed them.»
«You can’t kill them completely. They’re immortal.»
«Are you?»
Rokuela looked like an immortal creature. She may have looked young, but her gray hair and the ancient wisdom in her eyes made her seem like a very old woman.
«It’s a very touchy subject,» she brushed her cheekily aside. «You know you’re not supposed to ask a woman her age or her mortality.»
Surely there are many witches who want to be immortal, and that might offend them. Take Ornella, for example. Ask her if she’s mortal and you’ll get a harsh rebuke and a tantrum. Many arrogant women would like to consider them exclusively immortal fairies.
Inside the witch’s cottage was even more intimidating. Here were prepared potions of dubious ingredients, hung bundles of black herbs, in bottles instead of models of ships were sharpened rainbow and miniature storm. It’s magic! Fiona went to the window to touch a garland of dried starfish. Immediately a flock of aggressive rain spirits ogled at her from the shroud of rain. They hovered over the bridges. Each one was no bigger than a cat, but they had the fury of a lion. One spirit tried to grab hold of Fiona’s arm and douse her in salt water.
«Close all the windows!» Rokuela’s shrill command drew the shutters shut abruptly, but they shut on her command as if the house were a living organism over which the Sea Witch could have no control.
«And don’t look out, or the rain spirits will find a way to get in and tear you to pieces!»
«But why is it?» Fiona wondered. What had she done to them?
«You’re a redhead!» She pointed to her disheveled curls as if that explained everything.
«And you’re against redheads, too, like Ornella, because all redheads are witches, etc., etc.»
You’d think rain spirits weren’t witchy creatures themselves!
«It’s not about the legend of the red-haired punisher! The strands of your hair are like real fire in color. And the rain spirits hate anything fiery and are bent on destroying it.»
That’s right! She remembered how fiercely they attacked the fire spirits, and they were afraid of them. The rain spirits do have the power to defeat fire.
«And what is the tale of the red-haired punisher? I’ve never heard of such a thing!» Fiona looked at the fireplace, somehow full of water and covered by a glass screen. Inside it, as if it were an aquarium, some horrible sea creature languished. A veritable monster! In the various vials on the shelves were also imprisoned water creatures: jellyfish, stingrays, octopuses, and many unimaginable creatures whose names Fiona did not know. In one vial were shimmering real stars, as if Rokuela had managed to pull them down from the heavens.
Fiona tried to uncork the bottle, but the mistress of the lodge stopped her.
«Don’t dare!»
«What’s inside? Are they stars?»
«Have you ever heard the stories about the people who let the genies out and paid for their curiosity!»
Fiona didn’t want to be lectured, so she obediently put the vial back.
«You can spend the night here!» Rokuela threw a blanket over the narrow thatch bunk. «I have business to run tonight, so I won’t be constrained by you. But don’t touch anything while I’m gone, or there’ll be more repercussions later than from the war. The power imprisoned in the vials is dangerous.»
«I see!» Fiona made a vow not to touch anything here again. She didn’t want to get hurt or unleash a water demon at all.
«We’ll talk a little while before the rain stops,» the landlady pointed to the chairs and table made from shells. The screen beside them was also covered in shells, like bas-reliefs.
«You could make it rain, but you couldn’t make it stop?» Fiona guessed, taking a seat on the rickety shell stool.
«You can’t do everything at once. One magic on top of another is too much,» said Rockwell admonishingly. «If you knew more about magic, you’d understand.»
«But I’m not a witch! Ornella only called me that to send me to the bonfire.»
«I’ll look into your past myself if I want to,» Rokuela barked at her and placed an elegant mirror framed in monograms and seashells on the table. «It reveals the past and present very well, but it is not always exact for the future.»
«So you cannot tell a lie,» Fiona summed up. «You know I’m just a mill girl, not a witch, not a princess to rival Ornella.»
Rokuela didn’t let her finish her sentence.
«You must have some talent!» With the intonation of a seer she proclaimed. «I can see that!»
«Well!» Fiona shrugged hesitantly. «I can do a bit of needlework and cross stitch. I make a good tasty dish from mushrooms I pick in the woods and muffin tarts. Well, and to spin good yarn, besides me, all the peasant women know how to do. So it probably doesn’t count as a talent anymore.»
«We’re talking about magical talent!» Rokuela interrupted her. «What’s that got to do with embroidery and cooking?»
«I’m sorry, but I didn’t know about magic.»
«What if you found a dusty old book in the attic of your mill, written in ancient writings, and realized that you could read them, even if you were illiterate? Such books have a habit of calling you by name or you begin to be drawn to them by some irresistible force. You just want to open them, even if they are chained.»
«It is exactly! There was one such book! Found it among old junk and sacks of flour. Probably one of the rich customers had forgotten it. I mistook it for a casket because the binding was decorated with jasper, and thin chains and a lock set around it. I never managed to open it. I exchanged it for a new dress at a box man.»
«You are silly! You’ll trade your own head for something. Do you know what treasure you’ve lost?»
«But the dress was of real silk, like a noblewoman’s. The butler gave it up for that book.»
«That book could have been your friend and advisor for all eternity. It was a big risk, though,» Rockwell said with a frown. «You can’t keep that quiet, either. As a rule, only potential students of the School of Witchcraft could get their hands on such witchcraft volumes. It’s a place like a black palace, hidden under a veil of invisibility, where spirits train young wizards. It will cost you your soul, but you’ll gain eternal youth and power. You can eventually become queen yourself by wresting someone else’s throne with the help of charms.»
«I’m not Ornella… I don’t have her ways.»
«That’s right! Ornella would not let such a valuable book out of her claws.»
«Naturally, she would be attracted to jasper. She loves sparkling stones!»
«I don’t mean the cost of the binding!» Rokuela was indignant. «Wizards are the richest people in the world, not because they hoard treasure, but because they know how to acquire it by means of charms. I’ve known magicians who lost a fortune in a night at the gambling houses, and the next morning they were rich again. It is as if the gold had grown in the palms of their hands.»
«How is that?»
«The book you sold in exchange for silk rags would have told you everything.»
«Told?! Books can’t talk.»
«Magical books do. Besides great knowledge, they hold great power. If the mistress of such a book were attacked and tried to drag her to the fire, the nearest houses and mountains would collapse, burying all but you.»
Now, that is really tempting! Unless Rokuela is lying and exaggerating, she could use a magic book. Fiona imagined Ornella telling her guards to drag her out of the mill, and the walls of the building and the windmills collapsing on the heads of the guards.
