“Councilor Noctmartis, I beg you to reconsider,” Pteria’s words echoed down the stairs after them.
Bogdana pulled Millie into the glade. The other students gaped at her over their lunches.
“Mother! Mother, stop! I need to get my lunch cauldron.”
“Leave it,” Bogdana said. “You won’t be needing it anymore.” Holding out her broom with one hand, she slung Millie across it with the other, straddled the broom and zoomed off.
“Mother! Slow down! I’m going to throw up!”
Bogdana cackled. “Go right ahead!”
So Millie did.
When they got home, Bogdana dragged her inside and dumped her on the parlor sofa, raising clouds of dust.
“Never again,” her mother declared, coughing. “Never again will you humiliate me in public. You never, ever discuss private business with outsiders. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? If word gets out about the binding, I could be reprimanded by the Coven. I could lose my seat on the Council!”
“You should have thought of that before you did it,” Millie pointed out.
“Don’t you dare!” Bogdana roared. “Don’t you dare blame me for this! After everything I’ve done for you, all I’ve sacrificed. You betrayed me!”
“Oh, really? What have you sacrificed, Mother? Just my talent!” Millie jumped up off the sofa. “And what did Aunt Hepsibat mean about my father? She said he’s not dead.”
Millie’s mother hesitated. “That’s none of her business,” Bogdana snapped.
“It’s my business, though,” Millie said. “Tell me about my father. You’ve never even told me his name, just that he’s dead and gone. Except I think you’re lying. I think he’s alive.”
Bogdana turned pale, and then flushed a deep, livid green all over. “This is all your father’s fault, every last bit. I told you he’s dead because he may as well be. You will never, ever see him again.”
Max was right. I do have a father. Tears began streaming down Millie’s face. “Why, Mother? Why do you keep doing this? I can’t see Max, I can’t go to school, I can’t know my own father. It’s wrong! It’s wrong, and you know it.”
Bogdana looked down at her, grinding her teeth. “It’s for your own good,” she said finally. “Hate me if you want, but I will protect you. I will make sure you achieve your full potential and rise to lead the Coven. You have a great future, Millie. You just can’t see it now.” Bogdana raised a hand. “Lukitse,” she intoned.
Millie felt the ward slam shut around the house. She was trapped again.
“When you are ready to resume your training, I’ll be in the workshop,” said Bogdana. She turned and stomped away.
Crepes and Chamomile
That afternoon, Millie heard Petunia whistle at the kitchen gate. She dashed out to find her hopping up and down on the gate and Max pacing anxiously along the Path. Max hurried over.
“I finished my detention during recess so I could come straight over after school. What happened?” he asked.
Millie began to cry. In halting sentences, she told them.
“Muck and muddle!” Petunia cried, clapping her hands to her head. “Your father’s alive, and she’s been hiding him from you? That’s awful! What are you going to do?”
Millie wiped her face with the hem of her apron. “I’ve thought about that a lot, actually, and I’ve decided that I’m going to run away.”
Petunia gasped. “How? You can’t get through the wards.”
“No, but I bet Max can.” She turned to her brother. “What do you think?”
Max frowned and scratched his head. He placed a hand out, gingerly touching the ward, and closed his eyes to concentrate.
“Even if Max can do this,” Petunia prodded, “Millie, where will you go?”
Millie frowned. “I think I’ll go to the Logical Realm with Sagara, if she’ll let me.”
“What?” Petunia screeched. “You still want to help her, after all this?”
Millie nodded. “Think about it. What’s the one thing I love to do most?”
“Cook!” Petunia looked thoughtful. “You’re going to go to the Logical Realm to be a chef?”
“I think it’s the only thing I can do. Mother won’t let me do magic the way I want, and she won’t let me go to school to learn. If I run away but stay in the Enchanted Forest, she can track me with magic. But there’s no magic in the Logical Realm. I can just disappear.”
“But you just figured out your magic,” Petunia said. “Are you really going to give that up?”
Millie thought about it, hard. “I don’t want to give up magic, but I don’t think this is any better, when Mother could bind my magic whenever she wants.”
Max blew out a long breath and opened his eyes. “I don’t think I can do this. There are several wards here now, and they’re pretty complex. I can’t deactivate them without her knowing.”
“Hmm. What do you know about the wards, Millie?” Petunia asked. “Who can go in and out?”
“Only Mother,” Millie replied. “She’s very protective of her privacy. No one gets in or out except her unless she takes down the ward.”
Max’s eyes suddenly grew wide. “Then you’ll have to be Mother,” he said excitedly. “What’s one kind of magic you know you can do?”
“Charms?” Millie asked.
“Transformations!” Petunia cried. “Millie, if you can turn Horace into a frog, you can turn yourself into your mother! Then you can just walk right out.”
Millie considered this. “Yes,” she said. “I think I can do that. I have all the ingredients. And I know how to make the cure, too. Max, did you manage to make that Remedial English potion today?”
Max grinned. “Naturally.” He pulled out two vials. “I made an extra for Sagara, just in case her English isn’t as good as she claims. But if you’re going with her, maybe you should use it.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Millie said. “I speak English pretty well.”
“What?” Petunia spluttered. “Since when do you speak English?”
Millie shrugged. “As long as I can remember. Mother speaks it, too. My favorite cookbook is in English.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “That’s just too convenient.”
“Oh, come on. She’s taught me some Elvish and Dwarvish, too. Is that weird?”
“It’s weird that she’d think English was useful,” Petunia pointed out. “No one in the Enchanted Forest speaks it.”
“Look, right now, it doesn’t matter,” Millie said firmly. “Max, can you find the location of the portal? Say, tonight?”
Max’s eyes widened. “Tonight? You want to go tomorrow?”
“It’s the perfect time,” Millie told them. “Mother will be distracted by Cretacia’s trial tomorrow night. She’ll be running all over the Forest, talking with Coven members, councilors, and the Dodonoi representative.”
Max nodded. “You’re right. My family will be distracted, too. I should have no trouble sneaking into Dad’s workroom.”
“But we’ll need Sagara,” Petunia protested. “Should Max fly over to the Sylvan Vale?”
“That might make her grandmother suspicious.” Millie blinked. “I have a better idea. Excuse me? Miss Elm? Can you hear me?” she called across the Path.
The elm tree stirred, rustling. Millie could almost hear words in the crackling of the leaves. She had the tree’s attention.
“My friend Sagara said that trees spread gossip faster than a carpet can fly. Can you do that?”
The elm tree rustled and dipped a branch in affirmation.
“Oh, good. If you don’t mind, could you please send a message to Sagara? She lives in the Arela household.” Millie stopped, twisting her hands in her apron. What should she say? “Um, please tell Sagara that she should contact Max right away.”
The elm tree bowed, just a bit, and then began furiously rustling to the oak tree next to it, which rustled to the next tree, and the next.
“Well,” Max said, “I think
that’s all we can do. We had better go prepare.”
Millie nodded. “I have a lot of work to do. Can either of you scry yet?” Max and Petunia shook their heads.
“Since none of us speaks tree, why don’t we meet back here tomorrow after school?” Max suggested. “That will give Millie plenty of time to make her potion, and it’ll give us time for last-minute preparations.”
Millie nodded. “And it won’t make anyone suspicious if you come visit your poor grounded sister after school.”
Max grinned. “This should be fun. Come on, Petunia. I’ll give you a ride home.”
Petunia clapped her hands in excitement. “See you tomorrow, Millie!”
“Tomorrow,” Millie echoed sadly, wishing she could go along with them. She’d even ride the magic carpet again. Instead, she turned and trudged back inside.
The following morning, Millie woke up early and hurried down to the kitchen. She found her lunch cauldron sitting in the sink. Mother must have brought it in, she thought.
She pulled down Simple Pleasures and opened it at the orange ribbon: crepes, her mother’s favorite breakfast. Millie stoked up the fire, buttered a cast iron griddle, and set it on the stovetop to heat. Then she swiftly whisked together the flour, powdered sugar, baking powder, salt, eggs, milk, water, and vanilla extract. With a wide ladle, she poured batter onto the now steaming griddle and pushed it into a wide, flat circle to cook.
While the crepe cooked, Millie chopped some bacon ends into small bits and tossed them into another skillet to fry. Pausing to flip the first crepe, she scrambled some eggs with fresh tarragon, parsley, ground pepper and salt, then poured them in with the bacon to cook. Millie took the first crepe off the griddle and added a second. Then she grated some nice hard cheese to go with the eggs.
When the scrambled eggs were done, Millie pulled the last crepe off the griddle, adding it to the large stack she’d made. She took these out to the dining table, then returned with the grated cheese, several jams, and a jar of honey. As she set the table, she could hear her mother rattling about upstairs, so Millie put on the tea kettle.
When Bogdana came down to the table, Millie was standing there, head bowed. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said. “I shouldn’t have tattled on you.”
“Well,” her mother said, trying and failing to hide her delight. “Crepes. How nice.” She paused, then flicked her fingers over the food. “Hmm, no charms.”
Millie shook her head. “No charms. Just breakfast.”
Bogdana sat down, took a crepe and placed it on her plate, loaded it first with cheese, then added some still steaming scrambled eggs. She rolled it up and took a bite, closing her eyes in pleasure.
Millie set the teapot down on the table, chamomile and lemon perfuming the air. She sat down across from her mother and had a crepe with cheese and raspberry jam, eggs on the side. She served her mother tea, then returned to the kitchen with her empty plate as her mother started in on her third crepe, blueberry jam and honey.
“I’m glad to see you’ve improved your attitude,” Bogdana said, wiping crumbs from the corners of her mouth. “The trial is tonight. I’ll be very busy today, meeting with the other members of the Coven, the Enchanted Forest Council, and the Dodonoi representative, so I expect you to prepare on your own. Will you bake something for tonight?”
“I have something special in mind,” Millie said.
“And you’ll charm it?”
Millie nodded.
“Excellent,” said Bogdana. She licked the plate clean and rose from the table. “I’ll be back in time for dinner, and then we had better get to the circle early, so have everything ready.”
“Goodbye, Mother,” Millie said quietly.
“Farewell, my dear,” said Bogdana, heading out the door with her broomstick. “Happy baking.”
Horace glided out of the pantry. “You’re going to do it? You’ll charm the whole Coven?”
“Darkness! Of course not,” said Millie. “I’m going to run away from home.”
Horace’s jaw dropped. He picked it up off the floor and popped it back into place. “Running away? But where will you go? What will you do?”
“Better if you don’t know,” Millie told him. “I’ll try to send a letter once I’m settled.”
Horace began to cry, great ghostly tears falling and evaporating into mist. “Oh, Millie. I can’t say you’re wrong, but I’ll miss you. It’s going to be dreary here with just grouchy old Bogdana for company. And I’ll miss your cooking. Will you bake something for me before you go?”
Millie grinned. “Oh, yes. I intend to make my specialty.”
“Really? You mean it?” Horace did a small jingling jig of happiness.
“Promise,” Millie told him. “But right now, I have a potion to brew.”
I need something of Mother’s, Millie thought. She went up to the second floor bathroom with its ancient, creaky pipes and enormous claw-footed tub. Millie checked her mother’s broken-toothed comb. It held two crinkled black hairs. That will do.
Grimly, Millie went down to her mother’s workshop. Her mother had never forbidden Millie to use it unsupervised because Millie had never wanted to use it before. Now she pulled out all the components for a transformation potion. Carefully, she stoked the fire, set the cauldron over it, and mixed the bubbling brew. This time, she threw in her mother’s hairs as she called out, “Muutu sammakoksi.”
Once again, she felt the tingle of her magic, and then the scent of rich chocolate filled the room. Hastily, Millie filled a bottle with the potion and corked it. Then she had an idea. Pulling out a second cauldron, she hung it over the fire and began again.
When she was done, Millie baked her secret weapon. It contained chocolate, of course. Lots and lots of chocolate. She pulled it out of the oven, let it cool, and cut it into ample squares. She set one on a plate for Horace. The rest she placed in a cauldron with a lid, then sealed the lid with wax. And then she dressed in one of her best witch’s gowns and waited for school to get out.
Millie’s Secret Weapon
At long last, Millie heard a very soft whistle from outside. She retrieved her sealed cauldron and picked up a canvas satchel she’d packed earlier. On a whim, she stopped and slipped Simple Pleasures into the satchel. Millie stepped outside to the kitchen gate.
Max, Petunia, and Sagara stood outside. Sagara was dressed again in the strange blue trousers with a tight-fitting shirt. Millie nearly wilted with relief.
“Max, did you find it?” Millie called.
Max grinned. “Indubitably! It’s in the Salivary Swamp.”
“So we’re going?” Millie said.
Sagara gave her a wry grin. “If you can get out of your yard.”
Millie nodded and pulled out a vial with a black ribbon tied around the neck. “Okay. Here goes.” Without pausing to let herself get nervous, she pulled off the stopper and drank it all down.
For a moment, she didn’t feel any different. And then she felt herself growing taller, bonier. Angrier.
It wasn’t fair. It simply wasn’t fair, being the youngest daughter of the Baba and having such a minor talent as healing. She wanted power, real power, the kind her mother had. She wanted to make every one of her four sisters stop flaunting their powers and tormenting her. So what if Hepsibat could build magnificent golems? So what if Ospecia could transform water into steel? Did that give them the right to grind her nose in it? To put mud in her shoes and charm off all her warts and call her a useless healer?
Well, she wasn’t going to let that happen to her daughter. Millie would have real power, the kind she herself had never known. Ludmilla would not suffer as she had suffered. Ludmilla...
“Millie! Millie!”
Millie snapped open her eyes and found herself with her hands clenched, looking down at Max calling her from beyond the gate.
“Come on, Millie!” Max hissed at her. “Hurry up!”
A wave of sorrow passed through Millie. Poor Mother. She’d been an apprentice wi
tch once, too. Millie’d had no idea how humiliated Bogdana had felt growing up. But that didn’t excuse her mother’s actions. Millie shook the feeling off. She unlatched the gate and stepped through. For a moment, she felt the wards probe her, stretch around her. And then she passed them all. She was free.
Quickly, Millie whipped out a bit of orange peel and popped it into her mouth. Instantly, she shrank down and returned to her normal old self.
Petunia flung her arms around Millie’s ankle. “You did it!”
“Shh!” warned Max, but he hugged Millie, too.
Sagara watched them, her head cocked to one side. She held out a hand. “Nice work,” Sagara said.
Millie took her hand and solemnly shook it. “Thanks.” Then she turned to the elm tree. “And thank you, too.”
The elm tree brushed her head gently.
Sagara looked surprised. “She says you’re welcome.”
“Okay,” Max said. “Let’s get going. We haven’t got much time before Mother notices that Millie’s gone. Also, I’m coming along. I want to see for myself what Dad’s been up to in the Logical Realm.”
“I thought you might say that, so I made something extra.” Millie turned to Petunia. “I don’t think it’s fair to leave you behind. If we don’t come back, you could be blamed for our disappearance. But I think I know a way for you to join us.” She pulled out another potion, this one with a blue ribbon. “This is a simple transformation potion. It will turn you into a human.”
Petunia stared at the bottle. “Me? A human? No offense, but I like myself as I am.”
“This is just for while we’re in the Logical Realm,” Millie explained. “When you come back, you can take the antidote and be yourself again.” She held up another piece of orange peel.
“But what will I wear?” Petunia spluttered. “I can’t go in daffodil petals!”
Millie patted her satchel. “I brought you one of my gowns and a spare pair of clogs.”
“I don’t know. Can I think about it?”
“Right up until we step through the portal,” Sagara said.
Max hopped from foot to foot. “Come on, we should go. Mother could come home anytime.”
A Witch’s Kitchen Page 16
