The Magician's Witch

Quadrupeds and Conversations

The first day of their journey passed uneventfully. Erik and Eilis talked nearly the entire time, jumping from topic to topic. Erik remained tight-lipped about his past but continued to ask questions of Eilis about her family, living in Connecticut, what the twenty-first century was like. Eilis answered his inquiries as thoroughly as she could.

I was not expecting him to be so chatty, Eilis mused. It's a good thing I read a lot, otherwise this conversation would be significantly shorter.

"How does a refrigerator keep items cold without ice," Erik had inquired, his curiosity keeping him talking more than usual.

Eilis had just gotten through a story about a major storm that had blown through Milford, and Brooke subsequently, when she was about thirteen, and how they'd had to take everything out of the fridge and put the most perishable items in chests filled with ice so they wouldn't go bad. That was when Aunt Nancy devised a new spell that kept their food cold regardless of electricity.

Eilis thought for a moment. "Well, there is a compressor that constricts the refrigerant vapor, which raises the temperature, changes it to a gas, and pushes it through the coils on the back of the fridge. Then when the hot gas meets the temperature of the kitchen, it cools down and condenses, and flows through the coils inside the fridge and/or freezer. The refrigerant absorbs the heat inside the fridge. Finally, the gas evaporates into gas, and flows back to the compressor, and the cycle starts all over again."

Erik was silent for a minute, absorbing her explanation. "That is a similar function to distilling a liquid to make it more concentrated. Except the liquid being produced is recycled through a closed system rather than being distilled."

"Exactly," Eilis approved.

Erik was contemplative for another minute. "But your family are witches; why would need such a device?"

Eilis smirked. "Just because we have certain capabilities doesn't mean we use those abilities for everything. And it would be rather weird if we invited non-witches over to the house and we had no fridge, yet was able to serve them a cold beverage. People would get suspicious."

Erik seemed to accept this explanation. "It is as though you are hiding in plain sight."

Eilis shrugged. "I wouldn't say we're hiding. Thereare a few people who either suspect or truly know about us. We have never madeit public knowledge, but we never squash any presumptions either."

Later that evening, they stopped to make camp. Eilis dismounted with the two men, wincing as she straightened her back. She bent forward, touching her toes, alleviating the muscles of her lower back, then straightened, bending backwards with her hands on her hips. She groaned with the movement, feeling the muscles relax.

"John Wayne made this look so effortless," she grumbled to herself.

Both her horse and Erik's horse sauntered side by side, still connected by the lead, and followed the cloaked figure to a shaded spot on the far edge of the encampment. Eilis strode next to her mount, her fingers wrapped around the bridle. She copied Erik as he tied the reins to a sturdy sapling. Erik then proceeded to unburden his horse, removing the bags and saddle. Eilis did likewise.

Two servants brought large buckets of water for the animals, dropping them down in front of each animal's head. Both horses bent forward and drunk freely.

Erik pulled two brushes out of one of the bags and handed one to Eilis.

"Thanks," she muttered, taking it.

Erik nodded and returned his attention to his horse. Eilis watched him as he began to methodically groom him, starting at the neck and working down one side. She stepped up to her own horse and imitated his movements as best she could.