The Witch's Patron

Chapter 20

With nowhere else to go, Noori wandered the alleys of Fernweh until the sun went down. When darkness finally fell, it took her ages to summon to emotional fortitude to find the studio without Luck's help. The day had left her feeling so broken and defeated that, when Noori finally found Keizsa's door tucked into the trunk of the cemetery's mourning tree, she couldn't even bring herself to open it. Instead, she stood before it numbly, staring without a thought for a long while. Then, with what little will she had left, Noori managed to turn the handle and slumped to her knees just inside the threshold.

Head hanging low with sadness and shame, she heard Keizsa's approach rather than saw it; bare feet slapping against the stone floor, punctuated by a gasp of alarm.

"Noori!" Keizsa cried. She took Noori's hands and helped her to her feet, pulling her further into the warmth of the studio. "What happened to you?"

Before she could even utter a single word, Noori burst into tear. She threw her arms around Keizsa's shoulders and sobbed like a child. Keizsa didn't push or pry, she simply wrapped Noori in a hug and held her while she cried. When at last Noori felt she had wept herself dry, she drew herself back, trembling.

"I didn't know where else to go," she whispered weakly. "I'm so tired."

Keizsa nodded and brushed the hair from Noori's face. "Then you should sleep. Come on, you can have my bed."

Gently, the witch led her feeble guest up the stairs. They moved slowly, Noori dragging her feet as though they were made of stones. When they reached the platform, Keizsa pulled back the covers and motioned for Noori to lay down. She tucked the blankets under Noori's chin and left a small kiss atop her head.

Within a heartbeat, Noori was asleep.

*

When Noori finally woke, she hardly knew who she was let alone where she was or how she'd gotten there. Her body was like an anchor; heavy and lifeless. The bed around her was soft and warm. She was tempted to close her eyes and drift back to sleep. Then, just as her eyes began to droop, the sound of chirps snapped her back to the present. She recognized Luck's song, and it brought everything back to her in an instant. Her exile, the conspiracy against her, the sanctuary of Keizsa's bed: the memories made her want to go back to sleep and stay that way forever.

Noori heard footsteps making their way up the stairs. She waited, too detached from herself to so much as lift her head and greet Keizsa as she stepped up onto the platform. Out of the corner of her eyes, Noori saw Keizsa balancing a small tray that held a steaming cup of tea and bowl of rich, savory-smelling soup.

"Well, hello there," the witch said softly. She lowered herself carefully to sit at Noori's side. "How are you feeling?"

Noori answered with a long, low groan.

Keizsa tutted. "I'm sorry to hear that, but you've slept the whole night and day through. It's time to get some food into your belly."

Begrudgingly Noori obliged, pulling herself up to sit with Keizsa's help. Wordlessly she dipped into the soup and let the taste and warmth coax her back to life. Keizsa waited patiently, content to let Noori come around at her own pace. When the soup was finished, Noori took a deep breath and turned to her tea. Her eyes found Keizsa's over the rim of her heavy ceramic mug, and her heart ached with gratitude.

"I'm sorry for all this," she murmured. "I didn't know where else to go."

"Don't be silly," Keizsa replied, picking absentmindedly at the quilt on Noori's lap. "To be honest, I would have been hurt if you hadn't come to me in your time of need."