Spells in Silence

Chapter 20: Holiday with Hags

Hazel blinked as she stepped out the door of the hag's cabin into the bright morning sunlight. Her eyes stung and watered even as she tried her best to hide her yawn. One reason was because while the cabin was not necessarily dark, it was certainly dimmer than the outside. The other reason?

Her night had – for some reason or another – not been the most restful she ever had.

She would not have accepted an offer of a bed even had such an offer been made, but the hags had been more than willing to let her spend the night in one of the upholstered chairs from around the table. Her sleep was fitful, and even as light of a sleeper as she normally was she was especially alert. Any creak, any rustle, had her eyes opening and her mind and magic shooting to full wakefulness.

For all her worries, though, none of those late night sounds had been the hags trying to sneak up on her for a quick nibble. She saw neither hide nor hair of them until the youngest hag, Hedwig, had entered the living room still half asleep and wrapped up in a thick coat before stomping out the door into the predawn light. Not even a single glance had been made in Hazel's direction.

The other hags started waking up perhaps half an hour after Hedwig's departure, at which time Hazel gave up any further sleep as a lost dream. Quickly changing clothes, she was ready to head out into the bright sunlight in which she now stood.

The morning sunlight did more than just make her eyes water, however. It also highlighted some aspects of her 'hosts' that she had missed in the dim blue light from their strange lamps and jars. For all that the hags were just about a head taller than her, their arms were disproportionately long. If they ever let their arms actually dangle, their hands would probably come down almost to their knees, but both of the green women kept their arms bent and pulled up to the height of their waists. Looking at their arms also made her focus more on their hands and the long, grey nails coming off their fingers.

The less personable of the hag women, the one whose thoughts the previous night had been entirely focused on eating her rather than the one who held something like a conversation, noticed her evaluation and raised one hand, curling and uncurling her fingers in a clawing motion. Hazel had no doubt that if those got close to her skin, they could do all sorts of damage.

The first thought Hazel had was that the hags were planning on leading her into the forest, but instead Hedwig's mother stopped in the middle of the spread of grass between one wall of the cabin and the edge of the woods. "This will do. Brightly lit so you can see, and too far from anywhere you can run. Are you ready for your test, girl?"

'I told you last night, my name is not girl. It is Hazel,' she wrote with a small scowl. The least they could do, especially if the planned on chasing her down and trying to eat her, was to use her name in the meantime. 'You never told me your names either. Rude.'

Now it was the hag's turn to scowl. "She is a wand-waver, but she is technically in the right. It is against the Customs to be rude to a guest, and that is what we made her when we offered her a place to sleep, even for just one night. My name is Elfriede." Hazel nodded, and she smiled faintly when Elfriede pointed at the other hag. "That is my sister, Gertrud. Hedwig, you probably noticed, is my daughter."

'Nice to meet you.'

Elfriede scowled at her flippant remark, but Gertrud snickered. "Cheeky brat. Reminds me of Hedwig at that age."

They could be amused or upset if they wanted. Hazel's mind was stuck on what Elfriede had thought. What were the Customs, and what did that have to do with being rude to a guest? More importantly, Elfriede obviously did not want to give their names to her, so what power did the Customs have over the hag that she would go against her own desires?