The Sisters of the Woods Ch.8

It didn’t take Nic long to realize they were headed for the tower.

Not a difficult thing to work out, granted. They’d done nothing but climb stairs since leaving Geniveve’s room, enough so that the only up left would put them out on the roof. Before that could happen, Geniveve instead turned them down a short hallway, empty save for a large mirror hung on the opposite wall.

It was impressively ornate, its frame cast from polished onyx with redstone highlights, shaped into flowing filigree that almost seemed to be moving. At its top, a large, heart shaped gemstone looked down on them like an eye, Nic getting the distressing impression they were being watched. Though honestly, he was glad for the distraction. There was something unnerving about watching your own reflection walk towards you.

Geniveve seemed less unsettled, though it didn’t escape Nic’s notice that she had gone somehow even quieter. She’d barely spoken a word since they left her room and seemed to be actively trying not to make any undue noise. Even her steps were careful and deliberate.

“Everything okay?” Nic asked. Geniveve looked over at him, summoning a small smile that failed to reach her eyes.

“Fine,” she said. “This is it.”

She stopped before the mirror, Nic doing the same as they both observed their own reflections and that of the hallway behind them. Without prompting, Geniveve raised a hand and rapped her knuckles against the glass. The knocking sound was hollow, as if there was a space behind the mirror. Nic was still mulling the implications when the gemstone began to glow.

The feeling of being watched intensified threefold. He looked up at the gem, finding nothing but an unblinking red light staring back, the heart shape doing little to reduce its menace. Unthinking, he raised a hand to wave at it, though stopped when it showed no reaction to the gesture.

“Can we come in?” Geniveve asked. “I-I need a favor.”

The glow persisted a moment longer, then winked out, leaving them standing alone in the hallway. Confused, Nic glanced over at Geniveve, but she was looking forwards towards the mirror. Nic turned to look as well, only to pull a double take at what he saw.

Their reflections were still there, unchanged, but where there had been a hallway there was now a spiral staircase, reaching up and out of sight. On instinct, Nic looked over his shoulder, both relieved and confused to find they were indeed still in the hall. Whatever was happening was happening to the mirror alone.

“Come on,” Geniveve said, tugging gently on Nic’s sleeve. He watched as she stepped towards her own reflection with a normal walking stride. Against conventional logic, rather than bounce off, Geniveve passed through the glass as if it weren’t there. In a flash she was gone, replacing her reflection entirely as she began to climb the stairs. She stopped when she realized Nic wasn’t following, turning to cast him a questioning look before gesturing for him to follow.

“What, just step in?” he asked.

She said something but it didn’t come through, Nic only able to see her gesture for him to follow again. Drawing a deep breath Nic did so, reaching out a hand so it made contact first. When it did, he instantly felt a tingle on the back of his neck, the telltale spark of magic coursing over his skin. He kept going, the tingle briefly intensifying as first his arm, then his whole body passed through to the other side.

He found himself standing next to the same staircase he’d seen through the mirror. Curious, he glanced back at the portal, finding his own reflection staring back at him and the hallway they’d just come from behind. Then, with a brief shimmer, the room was gone, and the scene was as it should be, showing himself and the stairs behind them.

Though troublingly not showing Geniveve. His head whipped back around, finding the stairway completely empty save for himself.

“Geniveve?” Nic called out. “You there?”

“Up here,” came her voice down the stairs. It sounded distant, as if she’d already climbed several storeys, prompting Nic to get a move on as he began to climb.

The stairs were narrow, the corners so sharp that he could barely see more than a dozen steps ahead. A smell hung in the air, growing stronger the higher he went. Acrid and chemical but covered with the scent of sugar and roses, invading Nic’s nostrils with every breath he took. He was having to resist the urge to sneeze as he finally reached the top of the steps and emerged into the room beyond.

It was a dominating space, one that sort of reminded Nic of Greytower. The walls curved in a complete circle, the edges dominated by equipment and workstations, leaving the middle clear for the main workspace. The difference was that where Greytower was devoted to electronics and engineering, this space was given over entirely to alchemistry. Everywhere he looked Nic saw the tools of supernatural philosophy. Gas burners, industrial spectrometers, a collection of glassware so large that its creation must have devoured an entire beach’s worth of sand. Some were tucked away in cabinets, others lay scattered freely about any available surface, while still others were in use within the various devices.

Most contained something, a cornucopia of substances ranging from the familiar to the utterly alien and everything in between. Liquids both clear and in an entire rainbow of hues, powders much the same and just as varied in consistency. Solids both dry and preserved in amber fluids, some fresh, some so old that they were beyond recognition.

Fresher ingredients were mingled amongst their processed cousins. Bundles of herbs hung from wires across tables or sat within ovens to roast slowly over low heat. A cutting board on one bench still held the recently skinned and minced remains of a vibrant purple root that Nic didn’t recognize, a jar of salt crystals waiting nearby to begin the pickling process. It was a strangely rustic sight, especially compared to the rack of modern test tubes and pneumatic syringe sitting right next to it.

In the very center of the room sat a cauldron, shaped in what Nic had always heard referred to as the “traditional way”, but made of stainless steel rather than cast iron. It was full almost to the brim with a green liquid, bubbling lightly on a heating element built into the floor. It was clearly the source of the smell, a shimmering haze rising off its surface like a shroud. Nic almost gagged at how overwhelming it was, so thick now that he could taste it. Cotton candy, of all things.

“Geniveve?” Nic called again. “You in here?”

“Not quite.”

Nic near jumped out of his skin, whipping around to look at the speaker where they had appeared on the far side of the cauldron. A tall woman, possibly the tallest Nic had ever seen, standing on par with Master Orlin and with about the same willowy build. It was hard to see much more than that, the haze coming off the concoction distorting his view of her. Even what he could have seen was lost behind hazard gear, her face covered by a full gas mask that stared unblinking at him through the shimmer.

“I-” he began, the words catching in the phlegm that had built up from the fumes, causing him to cough raggedly before continuing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in like this.”

“Well now that’s not true, is it?” The woman asked, the goggles never once breaking eye contact with him.

“I, uh, that is-” Nic stammered. “I guess so?”

She laughed, low and very much at Nic rather than with him, before tilting her head at the cauldron.

“Would you like some?” She asked.

“I…sorry?”

“I promise it’s not poisonous.”

Nic was quite lost for words, trying not to notice how strong the taste of sweetness was getting on his tongue. The woman didn’t comment, instead retrieving a glass mug from a table and dunking it into the concoction. It made a distressing hiss at the disturbance but caused no visible damage to cup or hand.

“Please,” she said. “I insist.”

“Uh…” Nic said, eyes darting back and forth between her face and the cup. “Are you sure I…”

“Are you trying to upset me?” the woman asked in a perfectly pleasant tone.

Suitably intimidated, Nic reached for the cup, his mind racing a mile a minute as he tried to determine a way out of this. He was tempted to try magic but feared that might upset the woman. Out of options, he raised the cup to his lips, trying not to show his trembling hands. The woman said nothing, just watched him intently as he ran out of space to stall and took a sip from the glass.

“Wait,” Nic said, instantly recognizing the flavor. “Is this…?”

The woman laughed, her entire demeanor changing in a blink. She walked around the cauldron, removing her gasmask to reveal bright eyes that sparkled with amusement. Nic instantly recognized her, both from the painting and the fact that she was the spitting image of Renee, minus some years and plus quite a lot of height.

“Tea,” she said. “One of my own little blends. Do you like it?”

“I, yeah,” Nic said, taking another sip. “Cotton candy?”

“But of course.” She stopped in front of him, leaning down to be more at eye level. “Now, who are you?”

“Oh sorry, I’m Nic.” He reached out to shake a hand, retreating when he realized such hadn’t been offered. “Nicholas Greytower.”

The woman’s eyebrow shot up. “Really? Well, isn’t that interesting.”

“Yes?”

The smile sharpened.

“Oh, you are fun, aren’t you?”

Nic couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or a threat. Before he could decide the woman stepped back, holding out an arm as if to present herself.

“Lovely to meet you Nicholas, my name is-”

“Lucile!”

Geniveve appeared in the door, all fluster and rage as she stomped across the room to her sister. Lucile appeared entirely unbothered, meeting the display with a statue perfect smile.

“Figured it out at last did you Veve?”

“That wasn’t funny!” Geniveve snapped.

Lucile gave a little laugh, turning to pick up another glass and filling it from the cauldron in one smooth motion.

“Oh, calm down sister, it was just a bit of fun.” She raised the full glass to her lips, pausing to add. “Besides, how else was I supposed to get to know your new boy friend here?”

Nic coughed on his own drink, having poorly timed another sip, barely managing to salvage some degree of dignity. Geniveve had no such luck, her face turning such a violent shade of red that Nic wondered if something might be legitimately wrong.

“That- he’s not- Luci!” Geniveve stammered, mixing the words heavily with stuttering noises.

“What? He’s a boy and he is your friend is he not? What did you think I meant?”

Geniveve gave no answer, simply crossing her arms in a huff. Which was apparently hilarious to the elder sister going by her refined laughter.

“Nothing against you of course,” she said, turning towards Nic. “We’ve been wondering when our little Veve might get around to this.”

“Uh…” Nic said, completely at a loss for how to navigate this conversation. He glanced at Geniveve but found no guidance there. He decided to take the safe route of changing the subject.

“We, we were just coming to ask you for help.”

That seemed to catch Lucile’s attention as she put down her tea.

“And how might that be?” she asked.

Nic turned Geniveve again, tapping her on the arm when she failed to respond. Taking a shaky breath, she raised her gaze to meet Lucile’s, though it was clearly a struggle.

“I need something from the pixies,” she said. “Are they still in their old tree?”

“Last we checked,” Lucile said, scrutinizing her sister. “Why do you need them?”

“None of your business.”

Lucile considered her a moment, her smile fading to just above neutral on her face.

“For the show?” she asked.

Geniveve said nothing but eventually nodded, small and sharp. Lucile returned much the same, turning to cross to the other side of the room.

“Well, you know the way,” she said. “Do you have anything to trade?”

“We’ll grab something on the way out.”

Lucile shook her head, walking over to a bench and pulling a paper wrapped bag out from underneath.

“Use these,” she said, tossing the packet to Geniveve, who just barely managed to catch it. “They like them better.”

Geniveve nodded, turning back towards the door before Lucile continued.

“And don’t forget your whistle again. You know what they can be like when they get worked up.”

Geniveve stopped for a moment, as if teetering on the edge of a decision, before replying in a low voice.

“I won’t.”

“Good,” Lucille said, taking up her tea again. “Now, off with the both of you, have fun on your little adventure, shoo, shoo.”

She stopped short of making an actual shooing motion, but Nic got the hint and followed Geniveve down the stairs. He briefly worried about a repeat of the mirror fiasco but thankfully it deposited them both back in the same hallway.

“She’s uh, she’s interesting.”    

“Yeah, she is,” Geniveve said.

Even Nic couldn’t miss the several tonnes of meaning sitting behind those words. He glanced over to find Geniveve still staring at the floor, arm pressed into her side like a vice.

“Hey, you alright?” Nic asked.

Geniveve let out a breath, easing her arms down and her face up.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Come on, we should get going before it gets too late.”

She was moving before Nic could say anything more. He watched her go for a handful of steps, wondering if he should try anyway, but lost his chance as she looked over her shoulder at him.

“You coming?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Nic said. “Right behind you.”

*

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