Chapter 2: The Hedge Witch
Chapter 2: The Hedge Witch
The streets of the city took on a different character in the pale light of dawn. Shadows lingered in alleyways, and the air held a chill that spoke of the approaching winter. Aria pulled her threadbare jacket tighter around herself as she hurried through the nearly deserted streets, her breath forming small clouds in front of her face.
The address she sought was in one of the oldest parts of the city, where narrow cobblestone streets wound between buildings that had stood for centuries. As she turned down an alley barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast, Aria couldn't shake the feeling that she was stepping into another world entirely.
At the end of the alley stood a small shop, its windows dusty and opaque. A faded sign hung above the door, the words "Madam Thorne's Curiosities" barely legible beneath years of grime. Aria hesitated, her hand hovering over the tarnished brass doorknob. Was she really going to do this? Seek out a self-proclaimed witch based on nothing more than a drunken conversation and her own growing desperation?
The memory of Melody's feverish face and the eerie glow that had surrounded her steeled Aria's resolve. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, a small bell tinkling overhead to announce her arrival.
The interior of the shop was dimly lit and cluttered, every available surface covered with an eclectic assortment of objects. Crystals gleamed dully next to old leather-bound books, while herbs hung in bunches from the low ceiling, filling the air with a pungent, earthy scent. Aria's eyes were drawn to a glass case near the back, where a collection of silver leaves, identical to the one in her pocket, lay arranged in intricate patterns.
"Well, well," a raspy voice called from the shadows. "What brings a child of two worlds to my humble shop?"
Aria spun around, her heart racing. An old woman emerged from behind a beaded curtain, her eyes sharp and knowing in a face lined with age. She leaned heavily on a gnarled wooden cane, but there was nothing frail about the way she carried herself.
"I'm not... I mean, I don't know what you're talking about," Aria stammered. "Are you Madam Thorne?"
The old woman's lips quirked in a wry smile. "I've been called that, yes. Among other things. But the real question is, who are you? And what trouble have you brought to my doorstep?"
Aria hesitated, suddenly unsure how to explain the bizarre series of events that had led her here. Finally, she reached into her pocket and withdrew the silver leaf, holding it out to Madam Thorne. "I was given this," she said. "And now my sister is sick, and strange things are happening, and I don't know what to do."
Madam Thorne's eyes widened at the sight of the leaf. She snatched it from Aria's hand with surprising speed, turning it over in her gnarled fingers. "Foolish girl," she muttered. "Don't you know better than to accept gifts from the Fair Folk?"
"The Fair Folk?" Aria repeated, confused. "You mean like... fairies?"
Madam Thorne fixed her with a withering glare. "Not the pretty little things from your childhood stories, girl. The Fae. Ancient, powerful, and dangerous beyond your imagining." She gestured to the case of silver leaves. "These are tokens of their realm. Bridges between worlds. And you've opened a door you don't know how to close."
Aria's mind reeled, struggling to process this information. Part of her wanted to laugh, to dismiss it all as the ramblings of a madwoman. But another part, the part that had seen her sister glow with unearthly light, knew that she was hearing the truth.
"What can I do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "How do I protect my sister?"
Madam Thorne studied her for a long moment, her gaze seeming to pierce right through to Aria's soul. Finally, she nodded, apparently coming to a decision. "Come," she said, turning back toward the beaded curtain. "We have much to discuss, and little time to do it."
Aria followed the old woman into a back room that was markedly different from the cluttered shop front. Here, everything was meticulously organized. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of mysterious substances and books whose titles Aria couldn't read. In the center of the room stood a large wooden table, its surface carved with intricate symbols.
Madam Thorne settled herself in a high-backed chair, gesturing for Aria to take a seat opposite her. "Now then," she said, laying the silver leaf on the table between them. "Tell me everything. Leave nothing out, no matter how strange or insignificant it might seem."
So Aria did. She spoke of the ethereal stranger who had given her the leaf, of Melody's sudden illness, and of the strange glow that had surrounded her sister as Aria played. As she talked, Madam Thorne's expression grew increasingly grave.
"You have a gift," the old woman said when Aria had finished. "A touch of the Fae in your blood, though you didn't know it. That's why you could see through the glamour, why your music has power. But it's also why you're in danger."
"Danger?" Aria repeated, a chill running down her spine. "From what?"
"From the Fae themselves," Madam Thorne replied. "They don't take kindly to humans with power. Some might seek to use you, others to destroy you. And by accepting that leaf, you've caught the attention of someone very powerful indeed."
Aria's thoughts raced, remembering the violet eyes of the stranger who had given her the leaf. "What do they want with me?"
Madam Thorne shook her head. "That, I cannot say. The motives of the Fae are often beyond mortal understanding. But I can tell you this: your sister's illness is no coincidence. The leaf is draining her life force, using it to strengthen the connection between our world and theirs."
Horror washed over Aria. "How do I stop it?"
"You can't, not entirely," Madam Thorne said. "Once a connection is forged, it can never be fully severed. But we can weaken it, protect your sister from the worst of its effects."
She stood, moving to one of the shelves and selecting a small pottery jar. "This salve contains herbs from both our world and theirs," she explained, setting it on the table. "Anoint your sister's forehead, hands, and feet with it each night. It will help stabilize her energy and slow the leaf's drain."
Aria reached for the jar, but Madam Thorne's hand shot out, gripping her wrist with surprising strength. "Be warned," the old woman said, her voice low and intense. "Using this will make you more visible to the Fae. They will sense the magic, and they will come looking for its source."
"I don't care," Aria said fiercely. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect Melody."
Madam Thorne nodded, releasing her grip. "As you wish. But you must be prepared. Knowledge is your best defense against the Fair Folk. You must learn to guard your words, for they can twist any promise or agreement to their advantage. Never give them your full name, and never, ever thank them directly."
Aria's head spun with this influx of information. It all seemed so surreal, like something out of a fantasy novel. And yet, she knew instinctively that every word was true.
"What about my music?" she asked. "You said I have a gift. Can I use it to protect myself?"
A spark of approval lit Madam Thorne's eyes. "Clever girl. Yes, your music can be a powerful tool. It can soothe or agitate, reveal or conceal. But be careful. The more you use it, the stronger the connection to the Fae realm becomes. It's a double-edged sword."
Aria nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. She thought of the lullaby she had played for Melody, of the way the air had shimmered as she sang. If she could learn to control that power...
"I'll be careful," she promised. "Is there anything else I should know?"
Madam Thorne's expression turned grave once more. "Only this: the Fae are bound by ancient laws and customs. They cannot lie outright, but they are masters of deception and misdirection. Trust nothing they say or do at face value. And above all, remember that their realm operates on different rules than ours. Time moves differently there, and what seems like minutes could be days or even years in our world."
A chill ran down Aria's spine at the thought. She imagined returning home to find Melody grown old, or the city changed beyond recognition. "How do I avoid being trapped there?"
"Iron," Madam Thorne said, moving to another shelf and selecting a small pendant. "It's anathema to most Fae. Wear this at all times. It won't prevent them from taking you if they're determined enough, but it will make it more difficult, and it will help you resist the lure of their realm."
She pressed the pendant into Aria's hand. It was a simple design, a small iron disk etched with unfamiliar symbols, hung on a leather cord. As soon as Aria's fingers closed around it, she felt a subtle shift in the air around her, as if a veil she hadn't known was there had been partially lifted.
"Thank you," she began, then caught herself, remembering Madam Thorne's warning. "I mean, I appreciate your help."
The old woman's lips quirked in a small smile. "You learn quickly. That's good. You'll need every advantage in the days to come."
Aria slipped the pendant over her head, tucking it beneath her shirt. The weight of it against her skin was comforting, a tangible reminder that she wasn't entirely defenseless against the strange new world she had stumbled into.
"What do I do now?" she asked, suddenly feeling very young and very much out of her depth.
Madam Thorne's expression softened slightly. "Go home. Take care of your sister. Practice your music, but be mindful of its effects. And watch. The Fae are drawn to liminal spaces—twilight, crossroads, the edges of things. You'll start to see signs of their presence now that you know what to look for."
She fixed Aria with a piercing gaze. "But most importantly, be prepared. The one who gave you that leaf will return. They've marked you, claimed you in some way. When they come, you'll have a choice to make. Choose wisely, for the fate of more than just yourself may hang in the balance."
Aria swallowed hard, nodding. She gathered up the jar of salve and stood, suddenly eager to get back to Melody. As she turned to leave, a thought struck her. "Wait," she said, turning back to Madam Thorne. "How much do I owe you for all this?"
The old woman waved a dismissive hand. "Consider it an investment in the future. But if you insist on payment..." Her eyes glittered with a hint of mischief. "A song. Not now, but someday, when you've come into your power. I should like to hear what music sounds like when it bridges two worlds."
Aria managed a small smile. "I'd be honored," she said, and meant it.
As she made her way back through the cluttered shop, Madam Thorne's voice called out one last time. "Remember, child. Knowledge is power, but it's also a burden. The Fae realm is beautiful beyond imagining, but it's also dangerous. Don't let yourself be seduced by it."
With those ominous words ringing in her ears, Aria stepped out into the alley. The sun had fully risen now, bathing the city in a golden light that seemed to wash away some of the strangeness of the past hour. But as she hurried home, the weight of the iron pendant against her chest reminded her that nothing would ever be truly normal again.
Her mind raced with everything she had learned, with the enormity of the task that lay before her. Protect Melody, guard against the Fae, master her newfound abilities—it seemed impossible. And yet, as she clutched the jar of salve close to her heart, Aria felt a fierce determination take root within her.
Whatever came next, whatever challenges the Fae realm might throw at her, she would face them head-on. For Melody, for herself, and for the music that now sang in her veins with a power she was only beginning to understand.
The city streets seemed different now, filled with hidden dangers and potential wonders. As Aria navigated through the morning crowds, her senses were alert for any sign of the otherworldly. A flash of impossible color in a shop window, a snatch of melody that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once—the world was transforming before her eyes, revealing its secret heart.
And somewhere out there, she knew, violet eyes were watching, waiting for the moment to draw her deeper into a game whose rules she was only beginning to grasp.