Hours later, Katja straightened from where she'd been bent over her table and stretched her arms overhead before rolling her shoulders a few times.
She'd finished repairing the candelabra and had moved on to fixing the clasp of a bracelet. She was purposefully avoiding repairing the silver trimming of a mirror that had fallen and suffered damage, saving anything requiring her to look at her reflection until she had absolutely nothing else to do.
Her rumbling stomach told her it was time for lunch, and since she wanted to visit Tante Hedda, the best course of action seemed to be grabbing something and eating on the way. Thinking about returning to the kitchen and the pitying eyes of her aunts made her cringe, but so did the thought of going into the Essen Hall.
After a moment of deliberation, Katja decided that while more people would see her in the Essen Hall, she was less likely to have anyone actually speak to her there. She reached up and touched the wolf pendant, wishing for a moment she could be as intimidating and brave as the animals who roamed the Schwarzwald.
After washing her hands, Katja made her way to the Essen Hall, taking the less traveled passageways to avoid running into others. While the communal dining room was crowded, crowds could also provide anonymity, and if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was avoid drawing attention to herself.
Katja carefully wound her way between the long plank tables with their equally long benches, edges worn smooth by frequent use. She kept her head down, letting her hair cover as much of her face as possible, looking just far enough ahead to avoid running into anyone.
Katja was hoping the meal would be something she could grab and easily take with her, but unfortunately, it turned out to be potato dumplings, which were better eaten sitting down. She accepted a steaming bowl of the dumplings, grabbed a spoon, then raised her head just enough to look around the room; perhaps there was an empty corner of a table she could sit at to quickly consume the meal.
"It's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?" came a voice behind her, causing her to startle and spin around.
A boy stood there, a few years older than her, dressed in the garb of a traveler.
Seeing her reaction, the boy grinned.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just saw you looking around and wanted to reassure you. I remember my first time visiting, and it's a lot to take in."
Katja blinked at him. "You think...I'm visiting?"
The boy blushed. "Well, I assumed you were here for, you know..." he traced a finger down one side of his face, "...healing. The witches are said to be powerful healers, although I've never used those services myself. I'm here with my father, seeking information about a possible business venture."
Katja closed her eyes and wished she could sink down through the floorboards, or better yet, disappear entirely.
Of course that's why someone would think she was here—she certainly wouldn't be mistaken for a member of the Hexen, but rather some poor, disfigured girl who simply wanted to look normal. Tears burned behind her eyelids, and she tried to blink them away as she opened her eyes.
"Excuse me," she said softly, before heading towards the nearest doorway, leaving the boy behind.
Hurrying to her bedroom, which was closer than her workspace, Katja rushed inside and let the door slam shut as the tears she'd been holding back began to fall. Placing the dumplings on her nightstand, she sat down on her bed and cradled her face in her hands, tears streaming through her fingers.
It wasn't fair!
She hadn't asked to be different. She'd thought at some point she might stop being so bothered by the way others reacted to her, especially when they were being merely insensitive as opposed to purposefully cruel. She'd expected to eventually develop some sort of carapace, like a locust, only her outer shell would be invisible and made of numbness, shielding her from feeling things so deeply.
Unfortunately, her longed-for armored shell had never materialized, and she continued to be surprised at just how much she could be hurt.
After a few moments, Katja brushed away the remnants of her tears, wiped her face, and finished her lunch in silence, barely even tasting the dumplings that were usually one of her favorite foods. When she finished, she shrugged on a heavy outer coat and wrapped a scarf around her neck. She also left the bowl and spoon outside her door, where one of the Helferin would retrieve it and return it to the kitchen before making her way outside.
Tante Hedda's shop was in the old gamekeeper's cabin, located near a few other buildings separate from the castle but still within the boundary of the tall stone wall surrounding it. The snow crunched cheerfully beneath her boots, and the wall blocked any gusts of wind, making the short walk a pleasant one.
Using the boot scraper in front of Tante Hedda's store, Katja cleaned the snow from her shoes before stepping into the shop, causing the bells hanging from the door to clang merrily. Tante Hedda was standing behind one of the counters and grinned.
"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," the shopkeeper said, pushing her rounded, wire-rimmed glasses further up her nose. "I didn't expect to see you for a while...figured you'd be locked up working with the jewelry I sent over this morning."
"That's actually why I stopped by," Katja said, unwrapping her scarf and undoing the upper part of her jacket enough to fish out the wolf pendant. "Do you remember who you got this from?"
Tante Hedda was quite tall, so she dipped her head and leaned closer, studying the necklace until her face lit with recognition.
"Oh, yes, that one. Beautiful, isn't it? It's so well-done, for a moment, I thought it might be one of your creations."
Katja felt her face flush at such praise, and she hoped the shopkeeper was too busy gazing at the necklace to notice.
"I acquired that just yesterday, as a matter of fact," Tante Hedda continued. "From one of the foresters working on cataloging trees. Said he found it while out with his crew, deep inside the Schwarzwald."
Katja shivered, although she wasn't sure if it was from disbelief that some people were still willing to enter the forest, or jealousy, knowing she would never be one of them.
Stories she'd heard her entire life rushed into her mind—stories of ravines so dark, the creatures who lived there had eyes made only for seeing at night; stories of trees who ensnared travelers in their roots and strangled them to death before consuming the bodies; and stories of frightening creatures who lured travelers from the road into cold, glacial lakes, only to drown them and inhabit their bodies.
And that didn't even include the Schwarzwald's most dangerous occupant—the Waldkonig, or Forest King.
Tante Hedda spoke again, pulling Katja's attention back inside the warm and bright shop.
"The forester said he found it in on the ground after moving aside a fallen tree. He wasn't interested in wearing it himself and said it wasn't his wife's taste, which was why he wanted to trade it for that rose gold locket you made a few weeks ago."
"And you believe his story?" Katja asked.
Tante Hedda tilted her head to one side. "He told no lie, of that I'm certain."
Katja nodded; Hedda would have known if the man had been lying about how he'd discovered the necklace. But the fact that it had been laying on the ground in the forest for who knew how long made its sparkling condition even more odd.
"Why do you ask?" Hedda prompted. "Is there something wrong with the necklace?"
"I'm not sure," Katja admitted. "As you said, it's some of the best metalworking I've ever seen, but, when I touch the metal, there's no music. I can't connect with it."
"Really?" Tante Hedda's eyebrows rose upwards behind her glasses. "Does that happen often?"
Katja shook her head. "This is the first time."
Tante Hedda's gaze became concerned as she turned her eyes back to the necklace.
"Of course," Katja added, "it might be all the spells somehow keeping the metal quiet. Did you notice them when you touched it?"
"Spells?" repeated Tante Hedda. "What do you mean, spells?"
Katja explained what she'd felt and seen when touching the wolf, and Tante Hedda waved her closer.
"May I?" she asked, and Katja nodded, standing still as the shopkeeper reached out and touched the wolf. Katja waited for her to gasp and mutter over how she could have missed something so obvious, but her frown only deepened and after a few breaths, she shook her head and dropped her hand.
"I can't sense any spells," she said. "Not a one. I don't doubt you," she assured Katja. "No one knows metal better than you, so if you say it's covered in spells, I believe you. But I'm astounded I sold an enchanted object without realizing it—what if the spells had been of a more diabolical nature?" She sighed as if disappointed with herself. "Hopefully it hasn't happened before."
"I've never felt any spells on the other jewelry you've sent me," Katja assured her, and the older woman appeared relieved, then gestured towards the necklace with her chin.
"Seems to me the best thing to do is destroy it entirely," she said. "I'm surprised to see you wearing it; after all, you don't even wear your own creations."
Katja fingered the necklace, unsure how to explain something she didn't truly understand herself, although she knew one thing for certain.
"I can't connect with metal unless I hear its song," she explained. "And since the spells are keeping the meteorite silent, I have to remove them before I can use my affinity and turn it into something else."
"That makes sense," Tante Hedda nodded approvingly; as a businesswoman, she liked nothing more than a display of good sense. A mischievous light suddenly filled her eyes, causing them to sparkle like chips of aquamarine stones. "Will you tell me if you manage to uncover anything exciting?"
"Of course," Katja replied.
Tante Hedda was one of the few witches she interacted regularly with, along with Tante Bettina, Tante Olwyn, and Tante Winola in the library. She'd always enjoyed being around the older witches, and when she'd been younger, she'd hoped their relationships might progress from purely professional to something akin to friendship.
She'd even dared to imagine being invited over for tea or perhaps dinner, but alas, such an invitation had never materialized, likely because the elder witches had friends and loved ones of their own and assumed she did, as well.
She'd eventually learned to content herself with the relationships as they were, rather than dwelling on how she wished them to be, and while they weren't perfect, they were nice additions to the time she spent socializing with the sanctuary animals.
"I'm going to start with figuring out the spells," Katja added, "which will probably take me a while, but it seems like the best place to start."
Tante Hedda chuckled, her grin turning almost impish. "Never thought I'd be involved in a mystery at my age," she said, her previous concern over the necklace quickly vanishing.
Thanking the shopkeeper, Katja rewound her scarf and buttoned up her coat, then made her way outside.
"Back to work, little wolf," she said, patting her chest where the necklace hung behind her scarf. "But tonight we'll go to the library and see what we can learn about the spells on you. It's odd Tante Hedda couldn't sense them."
The spells had been applied for a reason, of that she was certain—you didn't go to so much trouble unless you were convinced it was necessary.
But that brought her back to the same question without providing any better of an answer...what could a necklace possibly contain that would be important enough for someone to bury it beneath layers of spells?
(Artwork by GoranH from Pixabay)