The Witch of Northester

Reaching Out

I rode with Fresca to town the next day. The wagon wobbled us back and forth, loaded down with gourds for decoration before pumpkinfest. "Where do you think she got off to?" Fresca asked.

I shook my head, still keeping my eyes peeled for Helda. "I don't know. I had her trained to go home at any sign of trouble." But if they were as far as she suspected, having had Kelan find her at the inn, then Helda could be lost for days.

"She's probably fattening up in some meadow somewhere." Fresca kicked her feet forward, leaning back against the benchframe while flicking the reigns to pick up the pace. "She'll come home when she's ready."

Helda was not a runaway. If she hadn't brought herself home by now, someone must've taken her.

Or something.

I thought about the shadow I had seen the other night. There was no way it had been a man. I thought about it being a bear, but bears just don't MOVE like that. Anything bigger would be lumbering, too slow, and thrashing through the trees like that...

It would've had to have had arms.

"What're you thinking about?" Fresca was looking at me, curious and a little concerned.

I shivered, shaking my head free of the memory. "Nothing."

We turned into time just to see a train of people coming up the road, most likely from lodgings. They were all naturally unfamiliar, having either come up from the city or farther parts of the region.

Fresca helped me open the shop. We hung up decorations, arranged a sitting table outside for random buy one get one sales, and waited.

And waited.

There were a few travellers who wandered our direction, but as soon as Fresca or I addressed them, they scattered. One look at my shop, or the sign above it, a person seemed to get the jitters.

"Well, isn't this just dandy." Fresca whipped her skirts in a huff, storming back inside. The heat of the afternoon had gotten to her cheeks, turning them a nice, rosy red.

"It's still early yet," I tried to remain hopeful.

"Then you sit out there for another hour."

I could hear a hoot as party goers gathered around the center of town, taking part in early festivities. The bonfire wouldn't be until tomorrow night, as would the fall dance.

The door opened, and we looked up hopefully. "Fresca!" An older man held out arms in a warm gesture. "Little dolly!"

Fresca, ever polite, resisted a cringe and forced a nervous smile. "Uncle Fester."

"I'm in town!" He did a little dance, mirth making his eyes light in a crazy way. He came closer, not waiting for an invitation before wrapping both arms around Fresca, pulling her up and off the floor in a bear hug. "Good to see you! It's been years."

"It has," Fresca wriggled free.

Fester looked up to me, then, smiling with surprise. "Is that you, Zelda?"

I gave a nod, working at braiding the rope for one of my charm bracelets.

"I haven't seen you since you were a tyke."

"Can I help you with anything?" I grit my teeth against requesting him not a loiter. The sooner this guy gets out of my shop, the better.

"I just wanted to say hi." He chucked under Fresca's chin, wandering back to the door. "I'll be in town for the festivities!"

"Oh, joy." I heard Fresca mutter, skirts whispering as she abruptly turned from him.

"I'm off to see your mother, Fresca." He waved, leaving.

"I wish he'd never come back," Fresca hissed, her hands gripping the back of my chair.

"He's just a lonely old man."

"More than a little lonely," she sniffed.

"Maybe if you'd reach out to him once in a while, he wouldn't feel the need to smother you every time he came to town."

"And give him a false idea?" Fresca grunted. "I want nothing to do with him."

I could understand why. The man is a creep, with little to no consideration for boundaries.

The door opened again, and to my surprise, Bren entered. I stood immediately. "Bren!"

He grunted, averting his eyes. "Word is you lost your horse?"

I nodded. "Last night. Helda got spooked."

"Dad says he's seen her."

I started around the table, approaching him in a hurry. "Where?"

"Old man Gerret's place."

That's not good. But given the area, it would make sense she would continue to wander the outskirts. Like Mrs. Potts, Gerret is an outcast. By choice. I used to think I knew him...

Then I wished I never had.

"Will you fetch her for me?" I offered, grabbing his arm when he turned to leave. "Please? I have to keep the shop open for the festival." I really don't want to go up there at night.

Bren looked at me straight, seeming to consider. Then, he suddenly shook his head. "Dad needs my help. Lots of new horses in town. We'll be busy all day and night."

"You can take my horse," Fresca started. "Go on up there in a couple of hours, get Helda. Be back in time to close."

"What about the customers?" I asked.

All three of us looked around the empty shop.

Fresca hummed, "Methinks you're stalling."

"Oh, whatever."

"I have to go." Bren turned around.

"Will I see you at the bonfire tomorrow?" I inquired.

Bren looked at me over his shoulder, but didn't answer. The tiny bell rang above the door as he left, echoing like the hollow of my heart.

"You're going to have a hard time letting him go," Fresca, always stating the obvious.

"I wish he didn't treat me like I'm invisible," I pouted. "Just because his father doesn't want us dating doesn't mean we can't be civil."

Fresca sneered, "Maybe you should reach out to him once in a while."

"That's an unlikely scenario," I scoffed. "I'd be better wasting my time reaching out to old man Gerret."

"Or Fester."

Too true.