Upon entering the small abode and looking around at the many plants that Lore had hanging from the ceiling to dry, Minnow mouthed a silent ‘wow’ and stroked along her aja’s neck before hopping down from Pyre’s back. She left a hand on the ghostly shoulder of her companion before turning to look at Lore again. There was better lighting in the building, and yet it seemed like even fewer details could be made out when it came to the witch’s features. Almost like she was a ghost or a shadow or something. Minnow could see what the old woman was doing however, and gratefully took a seat when Lore passed her a bowl of the stew she’d been making.

“Thank you,” she said between spoonfuls, and blushed when some of the broth slipped between her lips and into her lap. “It’s delicious.”

“No, no, no! You get away from there, you!” The old woman said nothing in return to the compliment ,instead focusing on Pyre, who had begun to nibble at the closest herbs, which had tiny blue flowers sprouting from them. “They’ll make you sicker than a Rock ker at sea. If you must eat something, have some eelgrass. Over there, in the corner.” Gratefully, Pyre nodded to the woman and trotted to where she’d been pointed. Minnow was the only one confused by the analogy used. Sea?

“What would make the sea so bad for a ker? Is it so different from the…” she trailed off, realizing she was getting distracted. Certainly Birch wouldn’t mind her daughter taking some time to eat, but to have idle conversation was another matter. Minnow imagined little Ivy lying in bed sick with whatever this plague was and it put the task back in mind. “Nevermind. Can you help us? We need a cure or a treatment or something. Everything was fine with the strangers came, but now people are sick like Birch, like anyone in the village, has seen before. Do you know a way to fix it?”

“What is it that ails them, child?” Lore asked as she rooted through the cupboards that, now Minnow noticed, seemed to take up the majority of the wall space in the home. “Fever, cough, pain? Are they bleeding, vomiting, eating and drinking? Are they cold or hot, do they sleep or fit through the night?”

The questions came too quickly for Minnow to respond, and Lore pressed closer to the girl with each word. All Minnow could do was shake her head, until the need for air left a hole for the young ker to fill. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I was just sent to find you for a cure. No one told me what was happening. But they might be d-… d-…” She couldn’t finish as tears caught in her throat, and the woman, who had seemed so terrifying when Minnow had been lost patted her on the back in an attempt to comfort the weeping girl.

“Hmm. We shall have to look then,” Lore said, surprising Minnow and Pyre both. With more strength than her fragile frame would have suggested, Lore pulled the cauldron of soup closer to where Minnow sat and began to stir the food until the pieces of fish became a blur. Words that Minnow couldn’t understand and would never remember were uttered and it dawned on the girl that there was even more to set Lore apart from the other swampies than simply her preference for solitude. This was magic at work. Never had she met anyone with magical powers before, she’d heard rumors from other communities. Minnow watched the woods witch’s face as Lore stared into the pot.

Try as she might, the soup looked like swirlilng liquid to Minnow, and Pyre had returned to her meal, but every so often, Lore would mumble under her breath the name of some plant, and wordless affirmations to herself. It took no more than a minute, but to the younger girl, it seemed like an hour before it ended faster than it had begun. Startled by the sudden movement of the witch who’d been so still as she scryed, Minnow tipped over backward, spilling soup on her nets and causing her exposed skin to redden from the heat. Slight burns hardly mattered as long as Lore now knew what she was going to do to help the members of Minnow’s family group.

“How many are sick? Oh nevermind nevermind,” the hermit mumbled as she gathered a sprig of this and a sprig of that and tossed them all into a wooden bowl. So many plants, some of which Minnow had never seen before despite her upbringing, were going into the concoction that the girl lost track, but she was thankful that the older woman didn’t. In perhaps fifteen minutes, the creation was done and words were being said over them. More magic, Minnow thought though she had no proof and no one would ever believe her. Packed into clay jars, Lore sat the cure by the door but grabbed Minnow when she tried to take them and leave.

“Not so fast, my dear. It’s the middle of the night. You don’t know what might be waiting outside to gobble you up. Spend the night here with me and you may leave in the morning. Provided we’ve come to an arrangement on payment.”

Minnow stared at her and nodded slowly and sat on the floor. Only one hammock hung on the wall, which meant that she’d be spending another night on the floor. But even when the woods witch fell into a sleep so deep she began to snore, Minnow was alert. What sort of payment would Lore demand from her?

“We could just take it and run, Minn.” The skeletal face looked down at her, and swam in the flickering light of Pyre’s mane and feet. That wasn’t how things worked here. Perhaps where the refugees were from theft was a common occurrence, and deceit, but Minnow had pride enough not to cheat the woman who’d helped them. Besides, she wasn’t confident that the cure wouldn’t turn into a poison the instant it was removed from the house without the witch’s permission. Without magical experience, Minnow didn’t know the details of what was and wasn’t possible, and she wasn’t going to be caught blindsided. With a huff of hot air, the aja settled next to the ker, who’s legs were wrapped tightly by her arms, and there they remained until first light woke the sorceress.

As soon as she had sat up and stretched, Lore looked toward the jars, and then Minnow. The old woman smiled and nodded. “You may go, dear,” she said, confusing the exhausted young woman completely. Seeing the expression, Lore sighed and explained: “Your payment is your word. I asked you to wait here and go in the morning, and you respected that. Now you may go.”

The explanation wasn’t much help, but Minnow complied, stiffly rising to her feet and grabbing as many of the jars as should could carry. Pyre too, rose from the ground and followed the young girl around until they headed for the door and were stopped.

“Ah just a moment,” the witch said, looking at the aja as though she hadn’t noticed Pyre the night before. “Not part of the payment, but, my beautiful fire child, would you mind dreadfully if I take a cinder? In case the need ever arises?”

Torn between whether to be embarrassed, or unnerved, flattered or hurried, Pyre looked to Minnow for a decision. Ever willing to aid her bonded friend, Minnow shrugged helpfully, which the witch took as a yes. It took a single movement for the flame to be caught in the small glass vial that the hermit used, then the pair were on their way. When they turned back, it seemed the house had disappeared completely. Now more confused than ever, Minnow climbed carefully onto her aja’s back and they set course to head north east which Minnow figured would be the rough direction of home. Eventually she’d recognize a landmark, or they’d come to another village and she could find her way home from there. She’d be home in no time at all.