CHAPTER 253: QUAFARS II

"Diana! What the hell!"

The brat laughed in response, eyes twinkling with anticipation and mischief as she glanced around the forest.

Unfortunately, the Quafars paid her no attention. If our lookers were even the Quafars.

"I’m taking you back home now." I threatened when she opened her mouth to make another call.

"Don’t you want me to see them so that I can believe your story?"

I frowned. "You didn’t believe my story?"

She shrugged. "Do you believe it yourself?"

I let go of her hand, however hissing in exasperation the next second, when she burst out in laughter.

"Jeez, you are so easy to toy around with. Levina will have the fits."

"Levina will not have believed my tale." I said, continuing the trip.

"You never can tell. She likes you, and is a good friend." Diana pointed out, holding my hand. "Or do you think she is around you for the crowd? For the attention?"

I furrowed my brows. "I don’t think so. We were friends before things went south. She is just a bit..."

I didn’t know what words to classify my new friend with.

"Besotted to the triplets, even though she claims she is not, even though she threatens to wipe them off the surface of the earth should they disturb you again?"

I cocked my head slightly to the left. "Maybe? I don’t know. Maybe she is just enjoying her youth, as I should."

"Yes, maybe you should." Diana concurred, hopping lightly, obviously in a cheerful mood. "So, should we go to the Queen’s palace now?"

I shook my head. "That will rather drain my youth. The triplets are bent on frustrating my life. And in my not-so-good mood, I don’t want to take their frustrations; I might blow out."

"I see." Diana nodded, looking around.

So bent out of shape was she in finding a Quafar that she missed the crooked wood, pushed up, in her path.

I was in the same boat with her, sadly.

Hence we didn’t see the wood; our legs did see and hit it though, and we went tumbling down—only that we didn’t fall flat onto the ground, we fell face-first onto a bed made with hay and stacked.

"Dora..." Diana muttered after a while, nervous, her face still in the hay, possibly afraid of getting up, of taking in her surroundings.

We both knew we had just descended into some place that wasn’t the forest.

We couldn’t even perceive the scent of the trees, but rather of something spicy cooking, and livestock.

Did we fall into a stable? What was going on?

’El...’ I tried desperately, but got no response.

We were on our own.

"Are you two going to remain face-planted on the horses’ bed?"

I was right on the money! I shrieked with disgust mentally, my head, our heads—Diana, just as disgusted—coming up for much-needed fresh air; desire to flee from dirt over riding our fear.

It was only after we had dusted our bodies that we remembered that somebody had spoken to us.

A male voice.

Slowly, we turned around from the stacked hay, to see a fellow standing behind us.

Not a Quafar. Just a little boy. About six years, not much younger than Diana. That voice belonged to a six year old?

We exhaled in relief still. We could deal with a six year old.

"Where are we?" I asked, stepping closer to the boy with shaggy blond hair, who without answering us, left the pen we had found ourselves in.

We followed him immediately, not sure where we would find ourselves again.

Outside, there were more pens in the large shade.

We followed him out of the shade toward a large hut where the spicy aroma was coming from.

"Aren’t you going to speak to us?" Diana asked, coming to a halt. "I am not following you to God knows where..."

I halted too, cussing myself for being too trusting. I should be responsible—ask questions—never mind the first one had been snubbed.

But the boy ignored us again, and walked into the hut.

Diana and I exchanged nervous glances.

"Maybe you should ask El what we are supposed to do now?"

I bit my lips and looked away. What to do? Tell her that El was unavailable, out of reach? Nah, that would put Diana in panic mode.

And trust me, you don’t want to see that.

"She said it’s okay." I answered, sounding more confident than I felt, following my gut.

I don’t feel threatened here. I guessed I should trust that.

"Okay, then. Let’s go in." She started toward the hut.

I inhaled deeply and followed after her.

Inside the hut, the sight of the strange witch standing over a large cooking pot greeted us.

"You..." Diana started, eyes widening.

She looked at me, asking with her eyes if I could see what she was seeing.

I could. The witch had brought us here.

"Take a seat." She spoke, without looking at us, her focus rather on whatever was in the cooking pot.

We complied without argument, looking around the hut. It was a kitchen, if its constituents were any pointer. A big kitchen.

Did she have more of those children around? I wondered, watching as the young fellow who had led us here, walked out of the hut.

"Are you both hungry?" came the next question.

Diana and I exchanged cursory glances before shaking our heads.

"No. We are okay. Why are we here?"

The strange witch turned finally and looked at us, at me.

Unlike the previous night when she had been naked save for the paints that covered the contours of her body, she was wearing a cloak this time around.

Just a flimsy cloak that covered her breasts and buttocks regions.

Did this woman have an aversion to modern clothing?

"Why are you here?" She repeated our question, taking a seat on a short stool opposite us. "You asked to see the Quafars, and I thought to grant that request."

"And why be benevolent?" i couldn’t but ask.

Witches were rarely that. Well, strange witches like this. They usually wanted something in return.

She cackled in return.

Diana shivered.

That wasn’t the laughter of a normal human. It sounded like an animal’s—a jackass or maybe hyena. Loud and discomfiting.

"Just because I am fond of the little one and her curiosity."

I frowned.

Before now, I didn’t think she had met Diana, other than the last time we had been returning from the library in the company of the Queen’s children.

I looked at Diana. She was just as confused as me.

"You know me?" the question left her little pink lips.

"Of course. I am aware of all those the goddess has an interest in."

Diana literally glowed up. "You think!"

The witch smiled. "I know. You have an important role to play in the days to come. You and your foster sister."

A pause. "But I am afraid I am not at liberty to say what." She added, when she saw the curiosity shining on our faces.

Diana stamped her feet on the wet soil, unsatisfied with the answer. "You wouldn’t have let me know that piece of information, if you had no plans of telling me the specifics!"

The witch laughed, shaking her head. "Fiery as is needed. That’s good. But I only told you, little one, so that you won’t question the order and necessity of things when certain events start taking place."

She got up from her seat again, and peered into the big pot.

"When are the events supposed to take place?" I asked, hands folded across my chest, my ears picking up movements outside the hut.

"Soon. The same goes to you, Maya."

I sighed, and looked away from her. This woman wasn’t serious! Always speaking in parables.

If she wanted to help as she claimed, why not come clear about whatever she was saying?

No. She would rather tease our senses.

I snapped my head back to her when my nostrils tingled with the scent of the spicy whatever she was cooking, leaning back when I noticed she was walking toward us with the two bowls of whatever.

"Here, eat."

I peered into the bowl, mouth and nose twitching when I saw what was in it.

Water. Or something that looked like water.

It was colorless, but had a spicy scent. What was this again?

"It is magic food. It’s what we eat down here..."

"When you say down here..."

"Doesn’t have a name. Haven’t gotten around to giving it one. It’s just here—my abode, a place for my children and me."

I had no words to say to that.

"How did you find it then?" Diana asked. "When did you find it?"

"By a stroke of luck, some hundred years ago."

My mouth and Diana’s fell open. Hundred years?

"What are you?" I blurted out, before I could rein it in.

Witches weren’t supposed to age this well, except the royals—and even then, there were limits.

Was she a royal, all the same?

"I am a witch."

"A royal witch." Diana breathed in awe. "What are you doing here? Where is your kingdom?"

"You seem to be mistaken." The witch spoke, dropping the bowls before us, probably tired of holding out her hands.

"I am just a witch."

Of course, not royal. I had to agree, taking in her appearance once again.