Read Witch Hollow and the Fountain Riddle (Book 2) Page 9


  14. Chocolate Fair

  The next days passed by without any incident, and the only upsetting occurrence was the rainy weather. While getting ready for the fair, the witches asked for sunshine so much that their request was eventually fulfilled, and on the day of the fair, the sun was shining brightly in the cloudless sky.

  In the morning, the girls and Andromeda organized chocolate figures inside their baskets. Cassandra had made musical instruments and animals from chocolate: rabbits with caramel scarves, bears in green mittens, and camels with chests. Electra’s was a chocolate castle with towers, a drawbridge, and trees with caramel apples. While putting the figurines inside the baskets, Electra and Cassandra periodically had to take Medea’s figures away from her, as she would put two pieces into her basket and eat the third one. Thus, two of her spiders, one scorpion, and one shark disappeared without a trace.

  The territory for the fair was swarmed with motley flags, maypoles, and colorful stands with their owners organizing the chocolate sweets or handmade crafts for sale. There were also musicians, acrobats and ropewalkers, putting up the poles for their performances. The witches’ tent was standing ready, with Jack, Hector, and Eric waiting for them.

  “Here, try this one.” Electra brought one of the chocolate strawberries to Eric’s mouth.

  “Oh, sure, he can have one, but I can’t,” Medea snorted.

  “Right,” Cassandra said. “I need to save some for Raymond.” She took a few figurines, put them back into her basket, and hid it under the stand.

  Medea frowned. “You two have become so… so… I can’t even find the right word.”

  “So in love, my dear,” Andromeda finished for her.

  “So annoying,” Medea corrected her.

  “The only reason I ask you not to eat any more sweets is because you might get a stomachache.” Andromeda snatched another piece of chocolate from Medea’s hand.

  “And spoiled teeth,” Jack teased her, biting into a meringue.

  The fair was set to begin in the afternoon, and as they still had an hour, Jack suggested using the time for training. They left for the field, and first practiced shooting, then javelin throwing on horseback. Eric missed a few times, but Jack hit the center nine times out of ten. Then came Hector's turn. He took the spear and hit the spurs. The first three times he hit the target, but on the fourth time Hector lost his balance and fell off the horse.

  Jack ran to him and helped him to sit up on the grass. “You alright?”

  “I’m fine, I think.” Hector pressed his hand to his head.

  “Did you hit your head?” Eric asked.

  “I’m fine. I just lost my balance. My head spun so suddenly.”

  “Are you sick?”

  “No, I feel better now. Giddiness is almost gone. Must have been the sun. I should’ve worn a cap.”

  “I think we’re all tired and had better stop training,” Jack said. “Let’s use this day only for rest.”

  It was one o’clock when they reached the fair, which was now in full swing. The place was bustling with people, pipe music, acrobatic tricks, and trade. Eric had never seen a fair so abundant with chocolate and sweets. The place was full of tents and stands, with flags flapping in the air. Musicians were playing flutes and bodhráns. Children were spinning around the maypoles; adults were trading their crafts and chocolate sweets with the foreigners who had come to Hollow from all over the world. From every corner Eric could hear conversations in German, French, Spanish, Chinese, Hindi, and Romanian.

  “Namaste!” he overheard someone say nearby, then saw Dinah standing behind a beautiful stand. She was with Marion O’Neal, selling glass crafts. Dinah put her palms together and made a slight bow, greeting two Indian women dressed in satin saris. The women greeted her with the same gesture, then chose two glass goblets.

  “Sukriya,” they said, and left her stand.

  Dinah saw Eric and whispered something to Marion. “You seem pale, Eric O’Brian,” she said. “Could it be that the witches have put a spell on you?”

  “You have beautiful things here,” he said, ignoring her words. “I hope the trading is going well.”

  “Better than the last time. Everyone knows how great a craftsman my father is, and everyone has come from all over the world to buy his glass figurines, no matter at what price. Just a minute ago people from China were quarrelling over the vases.”

  When Dinah began singing praises about her father and his craft, Eric spontaneously yawned. Wishing her good luck, he crossed the spacious field and returned to Electra’s tent.

  “How is the trade going, my beautiful witch?” he asked, approaching her from behind and clasping his arms around her waist.

  “Great. I didn’t expect to see so many people today.”

  “Multumesc,” Cassandra said, wrapping a chocolate animal into a handkerchief and handing it to a woman in folk clothing and apron with embroidery. The woman paid for the chocolate and left the tent with her child. Cassandra passed the money to Medea to put it into their box.

  “No more room,” she said, locking the lid. “I’ll take it to Uncle and be back.” She left the stand, pressing the box with the money tightly to her chest.

  “El, why don’t you go for a walk with Eric?” Cassandra asked.

  “I’d love to, but let’s wait until Medea comes back. I’m not sure you can handle the trading all alone.” Electra leaned her head against Eric's shoulder, who was still hugging her and now and then biting into the chocolate she would bring to his mouth.

  “Sure I can. Go, have some fun. You don’t have to stay here all day long. This is Eric’s first fair. Take him for a walk.”

  “Thank you, Cassie,” Eric said, and holding hands, he and Electra left the stand and went for a walk through the fair, passing near the pole-walkers that were juggling on the ropes, meeting acrobats performing tricks with hoops, and fire-blowers that were breathing out flames into the air. Eric saw one of the fire-blowers wave at Electra. She waved back, smiling.

  “Do you know him?”

  “Yes, that’s Adrian, one of the vagrant artists. They always come to Hollow during the fairs.”

  “Why does he keep staring at you?”

  “He doesn’t. He’s doing his work—cheering up people.”

  “And staring at you.”

  Electra laughed. “Are you jealous?”

  “Should I be?”

  She shook her head. “Never.”

  “And who are those guys?” Eric pointed to a group of men in kilts, with auburn hair and sober faces.

  “The McAlister clan. They are great fellows.”

  “They have that don’t-mess-with-me look.”

  “Oh, no, not at all. That’s just their appearance. They are sweet and fun. They have come to watch the tournament.”

  “Are they going to take part in it?”

  “Not as far as I know. They always sit with the audience.”

  That was consoling. The last thing Eric wanted was to face those mighty fellows on the tournament’s arena.

  Orion appeared at their feet and licked Electra’s hand. She bent down and stroked the dog’s snout.

  “Jack must be somewhere here,” Eric said, looking around. Jack was with Ariadne, standing near a chocolate fountain and dipping pieces of fruits into the chocolate.

  “Whoa, that’s one great fountain!” Eric exclaimed.

  “Let’s go have fruits with chocolate,” Electra said, but right then Eric spotted Eleanora nearby. She seemed upset, and telling Electra to wait for him near the fountain, Eric approached his cousin.

  “Nora, has anything happened?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just looking around, waiting for something interesting to happen.”

  “Where’s Henry? He’d love this place.”

  “Oh, he does. He’s with mom and dad. They went to buy ice cream and pastries.”

  Eleanora seemed uninterested and bored. Eric followed her eyes, and at first thought she was staring at
the organ grinder, but then he noticed that Eleanora was looking at Jack and Ariadne by the chocolate fountain. He suggested to approach the fountain, but she flatly refused his offer. Eric laughed under his breath at his own silliness. Eleanora would never approach Jack while he was with another girl. He had just started thinking up a plan on how to help his cousin when Mayor Kynaston Daley and an old man with a cane passed along the way. Seeing Eric and Eleanora, Kynaston Daley exclaimed, “Ahh, the young O’Brians! Are you having fun, children?”

  Eric didn’t like the mayor, his big belly, the auburn curls, and the insincere grin.

  “That’s the young O’Brian I’ve been telling you about,” the mayor told the old man. He examined Eric from head to feet, but his long face stayed expressionless.

  “Who’s that?” Eric whispered to Eleanora.

  “Judge Alistair,” she whispered back.

  Eric stared at the judge, feeling goose bumps covering his skin. He had to clasp his fingers into fists to hide their shaking. He was standing just two feet away from the man who had caused so much suffering, the man who had forced young women to walk on burning coals and eat poisoned food.

  Eric hated Judge Alistair. Hated him with all his heart. He thought of his friend Hector; how hard it must be for him to tolerate this man’s presence when they knew that Judge Alistair had killed Hector’s mother. After reading the diary, Eric talked to Hector about his mother and the judge. He feared that Hector might try to take a revenge on Judge Alistair, but Hector said that the time hadn’t come yet. There was pain in his voice, hidden anguish and suppressed anger. Eric wondered what he’d do if his mother’s murderer lived in the same town with him, and shuddered from the thought.

  Eric’s long stare seemed to annoy the grave-faced judge. He leaned on his silver cane, tried to straighten his hunched back, and beckoned the mayor to follow him.

  “Strange man, isn’t he?” Eleanora’s voice brought Eric back from the thoughts about the judge and the witches.

  “Cruel man.”

  “I have heard that he’s cruel but righteous.”

  “Cruelty and righteousness have nothing in common.”

  “Are you angry?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Your voice says the opposite. Do you have anything against Judge Alistair?”

  “Lots of things,” Eric muttered under his breath.

  “You don’t even know him. Dinah says he’s a fair man, impartial and just.”

  “Impartial?” Eric almost yelled. “Impartial, you say!” He turned to Eleanora, his eyes glowing with fury. “Only someone like Dinah might call him impartial and just!”

  When the judge disappeared from sight, Eric calmed down. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have become so angry.”

  Wishing her a good time, Eric joined his friends, who by now had left the fountain and were on their way to a tent where Andromeda was sitting with the most beautiful woman Eric had ever seen. Her silver hair was flowing down to her waist, her eyes had the same silver glow, and her voice had a soothing effect on Eric, although he didn’t understand a word she was saying. There was something placid, something serene about the woman. She seemed ethereal; her movements were gentle, and she spoke softly, separating each word. Eric tried to understand what that language was, but it didn’t sound familiar at all. He knew he was staring at her, but for some reason he couldn’t take his eyes away. He could stand there the whole day and just listen to the woman speak. Her voice, calm and quiet, managed to penetrate his soul and turn his inner world upside down. While listening to her, he felt an unexpected burst of rapture that lasted for some seconds before turning into sorrow. Emotions replaced each other, tormenting him, causing him elation, then grief, bliss, then sadness. Unwillingly, Eric's eyes filled with tears. The woman in the tent wasn’t looking at him, but he, standing in the corner, knew that she sensed his presence nearby; he could hear her velvety voice in his head. Then he felt a familiar scent of perfume. Electra hugged him and bowed his head on her shoulder.

  “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “It is always like that on the first encounter.”

  Her tender embrace calmed his unsteady heart. When Eric peered over her shoulder, he saw the mysterious lady pass before him. She only looked at him once, and smiled. There was so much in that smile. She told him a whole story with just a glimpse, and that faint smile told him all he needed to know. Eric nodded, and the lady left the tent.

  “Namarie,” Andromeda said, watching the elfish lady mount her stallion and hit the spurs. Then she turned to those in the tent. “Jack,” she said, “how long have you been training today?”

  “Not too long.”

  “I don’t like the way you look. You are pale. The same goes for Eric. Did he give you a hard time?”

  “We didn’t train much today. We thought we should get some rest before the tourney,” Eric said.

  Andromeda nodded. “That is the correct thing to do. Your paleness worries me. And where is Hector? Does he look as pale as you?”

  “Hector is there, at the McKennits’ stand.” Jack pointed in the direction of the stand, where Hector was standing with Japanese and Indian beauties in colorful kimonos and saris, laughing with them. “He fell off the horse earlier this afternoon, but he seems fine now, and in a good company. Just look at that blissful face.” Jack smirked.

  “Fell off the horse? He needs to be resting at home, not strolling around. I hope that after the tournament you will not exhaust yourselves this much.”

  With Andromeda’s last words, grey clouds shielded the sun, the sky took on a gloomy hue, and thunder clapped above the fair. Everyone came out the tent and glanced up.

  “Medea,” Andromeda said. “Where is she?”

  “At the stand,” Electra said.

  When they reached their stand, it was already ruined. The desk had been smashed, the sweets scattered around. After Cassandra had been left alone at the stand, Thomas Baldric, his younger brother Edward, and Tim Van Balen, with cudgels in their hands, came to the stand and began to smash it into pieces and throw its contents to the ground.

  Cassandra had to step aside to avoid the blows, holding back only due to the promise given to her Uncle and Aunt to never hurt anyone if it wasn’t in self-defense. Even though the Easterners kept insulting her, she didn’t break her promise.

  Then Medea appeared. She had a bucket full of milk she was carrying by the request of Mrs. McKennit. But the milk wasn’t destined to reach the baker. Seeing all the mess Thomas Baldric and his sidekicks had caused, Medea approached him from behind and poured the whole bucket on his head. Startled, Thomas turned and met with Medea face to face. He raised the cudgel, but his hand froze in the air.

  “Are you sure?” Medea asked.

  Thomas’s hand trembled when black smoke gathered in Medea’s eyes, turning them into bottomless voids. He lowered the cudgel, then dropped it, staring into the black holes on her face. With his mouth agape, Thomas staggered back and darted away, his sidekicks rushing after him.

  Cassandra hurried to her younger sister and began shaking her by the shoulders. “Medea, what’s wrong with you?” she cried.

  “Cowards.” Medea smirked.

  “Look at me!”

  Medea looked at Cassandra, and her eyes returned to their old self.

  “What was that? What happened to you?”

  “Nothing. Why are you so worried? I am calm, as you see. I’m not shouting, nor fighting. I am calm.”

  Cassandra was still holding Medea by her shoulders when their family reached the broken stand.

  “I will beat the hell out of them,” Jack said through clenched teeth.

  “Tomorrow,” Eric told him. “At the tournament.”