Third Person Press E-Sampler
Page 6
~now you have a choice of Caliches~
§
Later, after they’d all bathed, rested and eaten a meal that they cooked together, the Caliche women sat around the kitchen table and talked.
The mud-smeared card lay in the centre of the table.
“I am a fool,” Freesia said. “How could I have let him trick me?”
Ivy patted her hand.
“Stop crying,” Mother said. “I take full responsibility.”
“No! I was the one who let him wander around freely. Who actually encouraged him to go into our archives and see our magical spells and potions. He’s stolen our magic. He even knows how much we charge so he can under-cut us! We’re ruined.”
Ivy said, “He couldn’t have copied all our magic, Freesia. That would take forever. He probably just—”
Fresh wails came from Freesia, “—took all the concoction cards that we use every day. The medicine that cures 95% of the ailments we treat!”
Bryony sighed as she rose to stoke the fire. “Freesia, you really must calm down.”
“Punish me! Banish me! I deserve it!”
“Stop.” The word cut into Freesia’s hysterics like steel to butter. “Listen to me, daughters. I will tell you what we are going to do.”
Ivy handed Freesia a handkerchief.
Freesia blew her nose.
Both girls looked at their mother.
“Nothing.”
“But—” Ivy said.
“But, nothing.” Bryony sat down and took their hands in hers. “I’m the fool. I, like you, worked all my life. I put my head down and just did what I was told. When I became a woman, I had my dear Frederic as my helpmate.” She stopped for a moment, her eyes focused on nothing, a slight smile showing. She shook away the memories and looked back at Ivy and Freesia. “I knew I had to educate my daughters well. But then your dear father died and all I had was what I’d always done: the work. I didn’t take time to think about you as people. I didn’t take time to think about the future.”
“And now our future is ruined!” More tears spilled down Freesia’s face.
“No. To the contrary. Now we will have a better future.”
“How?”
“First of all, we have a competitor. What will that mean?”
“We won’t have any customers,” Freesia said.
“You think the people we’ve helped all these years will simply turn away just because someone else opens a similar business?”
Ivy said, “I don’t think so. Some will be loyal to us.”
“Exactly. And if some go to this Rihlad character initially, what will that mean?”
Freesia looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “It—it will mean fewer customers.”
“Yes. And fewer customers means...”
“Less work!” Ivy shouted.
“Is that okay with you?” Freesia asked.
Her mother squeezed her hand. “Yes. Yes.” She took Ivy’s hand again. “What you did today, taking such a strong stand against me…it shook me out of a…a lifelong spell I’ve been under. If you were naive with Mr. Caliche—if that is his name—then it’s because you’ve had no experience in the world, or with men.”
“I’m not stupid.”
Mother smiled. “Certainly not. But that’s the thing about charming men. They can weave their own kind of magic and cause us to become silly and senseless. That’s why you need more experience. I’m thinking that a little travel would be good for you both. Perhaps, we can hire an apprentice…or two.”
Freesia looked at Ivy with wide eyes. More help? Less work? Seeing the world? Dreams come true?
Mother got up and started pacing. She tapped her forehead repeatedly. “Where was my head? What was I thinking? How can we hope to continue the work here if my beautiful daughters don’t find husbands and have families of their own?”
“But what about Rihlad?” Freesia asked, suddenly miserable again. “Over time, he could take all our customers. What if he ruins us?”
Mother started laughing. It was a deep rolling, belly laugh that went on and on. Without knowing why, Ivy started laughing too. Freesia couldn’t resist, and the three of them shuddered in unfounded glee until their sides hurt and coughing spasms made them stop.
When she could finally speak, Freesia said, “What was that about?”
“In all that I’ve taught you about this—” Mother expanded her arms and hands in a wave that included their world. “Our magic, our heritage, our riches. Did I forget to teach you what is the essential and necessary ingredient that makes all the magic work?”
Freesia’s mind flickered over everything she knew. The teas and rubs, mud packs and poultices, plants and roots and tendrils. The vineyards and wild weeds of the fields, the wool of the sheep who’d eaten the hay grown on the land, the fibres, the reeds, the flowers and beneath it all, the soil, and all that it held.
“It won’t work,” she said, calm for the first time all night. “He could have stolen every spell in our library, and it wouldn’t matter.” She looked at her mother, and then her sister with clear eyes. “The magic won’t work because he doesn’t have the source of our power: the ground we live on.”
They sat in reverent silence for few moments.
Then, Ivy said, “While it’s true that the soil is the main source of magic, there is also talent.”
Mother nodded. “True.”
“What do you mean?” asked Freesia.
Ivy’s voice became more confident. “You think I depend on you because I’m lazy, and maybe I am, a little, but the real reason is because you are better than I am.”
Freesia started to scoff, but her mother cut in. “There really is no discussion, Freesia. You’re gifted at discernment and insight and empathy whereas Ivy and I are more…skilled technicians. We have magic at our disposal, but you make it come alive. We rely on you, because you make better magic than we do.”
Freesia felt overcome. Her thoughts roamed wildly with the possibilities spread out in front of her. Rest, recuperation. Travel. Perhaps a husband and even children, someday. Finally, she thought of Rihlad. “You know Mother, Ivy and I delved into old volumes in the library that we’d never seen before. I ran across a few spells that I’d love to try.”
§
Two weeks later, a small box, beautifully wrapped, appeared at #2 Towns Way. Rihlad, happy to take a break from the never ending need to make more teas and potions, answered the door and took the gift from the courier. The accompanying card read,
Dear Rihlad,
While we do not approve of your underhanded methods, we—your Caliche cousins—appreciate all that you’ve done to improve our lives and wish for you all that you deserve.
No hard feelings,
Bryony, Ivy and Freesia
Inside, in sparkly tissue paper, nestled a Mud Pie. Rihlad’s mouth watered and he immediately tucked in, consuming it in one huge bite, instead of the traditional three.
§
True Mud Pie Filling
- makes 1 tart
2 T cocoa powder
1 T boskbelle root flour
5 tsp honey
2 tsp maple syrup
½ c. spiced tea mixed with 1 T fueque powder
2 tsp chopped Caliche nuts
1 heaping c. mud from the lake bank (east side)
To taste: salt, vanilla bean curd, candied violets (crushed), cinnamon, [secret ingredient – unnecessary; it’s in the mud]
Pour filling into prepared shell; bake 9 - 12 minutes; cool before eating
Effects:
1. Temporary, though at times acute, digestive complications
2. Prolonged inability to lie
Repeat as necessary.