The Witch of Northester

Tides of Glass

Nightmares. Bloody hell. I'm losing more sleep now than I ever did when I was young.

Carefully, I sat up against the pillow. I'm covered in sweat. Beads of perspiration glisten over my neck and collarbone. I can feel drops of it trickle down between my breasts. My nightgown is nearly transparent.

My head is pounding. I reach up to rub my temples, dark hair flying about my head like a halo. It must have been a restless sleep, too.

Swinging my legs over the edge of my bed, I threw off the covers and planted both feet on the cold floor. The smell of morning frost crept in through the shutters, much like the chill that accompanies it. Soon it will be winter.

I stretch my arms above me as my toes claw at the floor. Once I feel my joints loosen, I rise from bed and make my way into the kitchen.

Coffee. I need coffee.

The fire still has embers in it, and I catch it quickly with the kindling, setting up a couple of logs in the fireplace for warmth. I rub my hands together vigorously before starting to the iron stove, piling enough kindling around a dried log to get it started. After filling the coffee filter with grounds, I slide it into the pot to let the water boil.

A crow caws outside my front door and I pause. Lifting my head, I stare, waiting. The more the crow caws, the stronger the chill gets. Goosebumps rise along both arms and I feel my spine stiffening. In a matter of seconds I'm shaking.

Ridiculous.

Shaking it off, I rush over to the door, throw open the latch, and push it open.

There is the flutter of wings, and I notice the crow settle with a cluster of others in the trees surrounding the cottage. Their small black bodies rest against the backdrop of the sunrise, heads turning quietly to face me.

I let go of the breath I was holding, hating myself for feeling relieved. I can see the sun starting to peak. Shafts of light move over each other through the trees, casting a shadow over the lawn. A fog accompanied the frost, lifting somewhat from the warmth of new light.

Another new day.

Closing the door, I move around the cottage to open every window. The fires have stoked, now, and I feel a nice balance between morning cold and cottage warmth. There was only so much time for breakfast before I went to work.

"Yoohoo! Zelda!"

I didn't bother returning to the front door, knowing she would burst in at any moment, whether I was awake or not. "I'm dressing!" I called from the bedroom, fixing my stays tightly.

Sure enough, the front door opened and closed and I hear the rustle of skirts accompany a familiar voice. "Zelda, I thought you'd be read by now! You said you'd accompany me to market!"

"I am. I am." I slipped into a brown wool dress, doing the buttons up the front. "I slept in a little, that's all."

Pause. Then, "Nightmares again?"

I didn't answer. There's no need if she already knows.

"What about that new tonic? The one from Asia?"

"I ran out." And Sesbania sesban is hard to come by. "My source hasn't gotten back to me, yet. I sold the last bottle I had to a little girl suffering from the same ailment. Nightmares."

"Heart of gold, you are." Her boots clomp around outside my bedroom. I hear her stoke the fire, then remove the coffeepot from its place on the stove. The smell of it is wonderful.

After brushing a comb through my hair, I step out of my bedroom and smile. "Good morning, Fresca."

She turned to face me, giving a semi-crooked smile. Her auburn hair was pulled back tightly into a long braid that draped over her right shoulder. She had on a going-to-town frock, yellow with blue cornflower print. Small ruffles of lace protruded from either end of semi-low sleeve at each elbow, along with a bit of lace curving out from her scooped collar. She had even stained her lips, the autumn having already blessed her with rosy cheeks beneath a scattering of freckles. One canine protruded longer than the other, a small overbite when she smiled that made all the boys in town drool when they weren't eyeing her figure.