Hara and the Witch

Chapter 9: Circumventing Strangers

It was a beautiful town, the cobblestones old and worn by hundreds of years, the air filled with comfortable chatter and a myriad of smalls; the houses encircling it were made from brick, red and golden and blue, their windows thrown open to let in the fresh warm air, some occupants leaning on the sills to talk with neighbours or friends.

There were glimpses of enclosed roof gardens, a stray piece of golden ivy or a sunflower peeking from behind a chimney giving their secret away. There were small potted fruit trees or troughs of strawberries outside each door, lemons and peaches and even a persimmon, tended carefully and all covered in greenery and blossom.

Families milled around the square, nymphs and elves and goblins and humans, mother cats taking their kittens for a morning stroll, young children with younger siblings, the role of protector making their chests swell and eyes gleam with pride.

It was a merry town, but Hara and Plim struggled to see beyond the story Marigold had told them; amidst the happily talking townsfolk they saw potions broken on the cobblestones, amidst the children they saw how she was left to the heroes, among-

'It's beautiful, isn't it?' Marigold asked gazing around, smile not entirely convincing.

'It...'

'Is,' Plim finished helpfully, knowing Hara's thoughts as if they were her own.

'I've got to sell these,' Marigold continued, opening her bag and starting to unload countless jars of honey onto a small table, 'then we can buy some supplies.'

'We'll help,' Hara said, looking around as if to dare these people to resist Marigold's honey.

'Good - thank you. The pub on the corner-' she pointed at a building a way off, its windows dark and lifeless '-always takes a dozen. Merka will pay twenty gonya for it.'

'Is that all?' Hara piled the jars into her arms, balancing them on top of each other and noticing the bag refill itself once the last was lifted by Plim.

'I don't set the prices.' Marigold shrugged. 'See you in a bit.'

'I like Marigold,' Plim twittered as they marched/flew over to the pub. 'Do you think she'd let me call her Mari?'

'I doubt it,' Hara said thoughtfully, twisting and turning as a flock of young goblins careened across the square and nearly tripped her up. 'But you could try.'

'You try first, then if she doesn't hex you I'll know its safe,' Plim decided. 'Do you mind, Hara?'

'What, getting hexed?' She thought about it. 'Not particularly. I'll do it for you.'

'Watch out, Jasling!' a flock of pixies flew past and crashed mid air, books spilling across the ground. The one who had yelled the warning managed to stay upright, circling back to her friends with an expression of pride and worry mixed.

'You did it! You definitely beat the record that time! A score for Chulie!' another pixie said, getting to her feet and kicking a fallen book with a laugh. 'That's the fastest yet!'

'Woah,' the third said, struggling to extricate herself from the books burying her. 'Woah.' She shook her head dazedly, then broke into a smile. 'That's what light speed feels like, huh? Mushroom, give me a hand!' The pixie called Mushroom stopped kicking the book and as Hara and Plim watched the three laughingly began to pick up their wares.

'Marigold, I mean,' Plim corrected, shaking her head in amusement and quickly swerving to avoid a rampaging child.

'Plim? I don't know what you're talking about.' Hara paused, waiting for a slow moving elf couple to walk past, although they seemed oblivious to anyone else in the world. As they finally moved, Hara stepped forward only to have a fairy fly straight into her; as she juggled her jars, swearing and swaying, the fairy hissed and flew off. Panting, Hara adjusted her precarious grip, looked around to ensure Marigold hadn't seen, and nodded for them to walk on.