Lavender-Green Magic (17 page)

As Holly sat down on the bench, Hagar pulled up a stool to sit across the table from her. She raised her hands and made a sign in the air over both the bread broken in two on their plates and the liquid in their tankards.

Holly reached for the bread. She was not hungry, she did not want to break off a bite the way Hagar was doing and put it into her mouth. But with Hagar watching her so closely, she felt that it would be very impolite, or even mean, if she did not.

Unlike Tamar's bread, this had a dry feel on her tongue and very little taste. She had to drink quickly in order to swallow it at all. And the stuff in the tankard did not have the flavor the cider had had either, but left a tart stinging in her mouth.

“I'm not very hungry,” she said, somehow unable to take any more of the bread, or drink that which left her mouth still burning inside.

“Nay? But I thought it was a kind of hunger which brought thee here, my poppet. Wert thou not a-hungering for that to confound thy enemies and bring thy own will to pass?” Hagar's eyes caught and held Holly's with that same searching as she had earlier used with Seth.

It was almost like looking into those mirror eyes which the strange brush animal in the maze had shown. Holly thought she could see herself in the green ones Hagar turned upon her, and as she did, her uneasiness vanished. Of
course, Hagar was right! She wanted to learn the witch wishes, to be able to stand up for herself, to make them all sorry—She had not quite sorted out yet the “them” she wished to use her wishes against. But she would know, when the time came, she would know!

“Aye, poppet, thou shalt know.” Hagar nodded. “But such knowledge comes not all in one moment or the next, mind thee. It grows as does a seed placed in soil which pleases it best.”

“Are you really Tamar's sister?” Holly was not quite sure why she asked that question, or why Hagar's answer had importance. She only felt that it did.

“Thou hast doubts? Why? Because she be so plain of face and I be the comely one?” Hagar raised her hand to fluff the curls on her forehead. “Because she be older, and I young? But it be so—we be of one blood. Of one learning also—with powers. But now I tell to thee a small secret, poppet.” She was smiling, her green eyes sparkling as if they were not eyes at all but glittering stones. “Aye, a secret, do and undo—she be not as wise or strong as she hopes, my dear sister. What she may do—that can I undo, as easily as I so snap this.” She had picked up a long twig from the table top. Between her fingers it broke with a crack that somehow sounded very loud in the room. “What she would build, that shall I also bring to naught. Nay, rather thou and I together, poppet.”

“Tamar—she was kind—” Again Holly did not know why she said that. But the words awoke in her a memory. Tamar—she had come here to warn Tamar of Sexton Dims
dale's plan! But if those men came to burn the witch house, they would also be enemies of Hagar.

“Listen—” Holly leaned forward against the table. Now that she remembered, she was doubly eager to give her warning. “Back there, where I—we—come from, they said that on Halloween Master Dimsdale and some other men, they came to burn down this house—kill Tamar—you—”

Hagar had not been mentioned in Grandma's story, but she was in just as much danger if she lived here.

“Back there, from whence thou comest—” said Hagar slowly. She either did not believe Holly, or else some other thought was more important to her now. “From whence dost thou come, poppet? . . . Aye, through the dream maze did I find thee. But I knew not the place in which thou wert, only that thou hadst worked the charm to open the gate between us. Now—tell me of thy world!”

She once more fixed Holly with her eyes—she might be seeing straight into Holly's mind, so direct and searching was that stare.

“It—it's different in time—I think.” Holly added those last two words because she was honestly not sure. “It's nineteen-seventy in my world.”

“Nineteen-seventy,” repeated Hagar. She pushed aside the plate before her, dipped her fingertip in the liquid still in her tankard, and began to draw lines on the wooden table top, her head bent a little as she studied them with the same searching as that she had used when she had asked the answer from Holly. “So be it!” she said at last. “A different time. But tell me more—much more!”

Holly tried, but how could you tell all about the Dimsdale that was now, the world that was now? Such telling could take days—

“Dimsdale ruined, used to hold the castoffs.” Hagar laughed. “What might Master Sexton say to that now? A good ending for a pride-filled man! But this world of thine—much has changed, that I can see. Only people, within them they do not change. And with people will I deal, with thy good help, poppet. Thou hast told me of trouble to come, and for that I am in thy debt. But when that trouble comes—Hagar shall not be here! Well did I judge to summon thee.”

“But Tamar—” Holly ventured.

“Tamar?” Again Hagar laughed. “Did I not say that she also has power—of a sort. A pale shadow to the power she might hold were she of a braver heart. Let her fend for herself, as I shall do in my own behalf. I look forward to seeing with my own two eyes, poppet, this strange world of thine.”

“You mean—you'll come back with us?” Holly was surprised and again uneasy. She did not see how they were going to explain Hagar if she did choose to come. And somehow she did not want that to happen. Hagar—Tamar—they were part of something which, she suspected, should not be mixed with the real world, the safe world of the barnhouse, of Mom and Grandpa and Grandma, of school and—well, just everything Holly had always known.

“Now that I cannot yet do, poppet. There must be a gathering of power. But safe I can be here, by thy aid. And the warning thou hast brought, that was well done. But thee can
do even better: Make sure that this”—she made a sweeping gesture to include their surroundings—”be protected.”

“How can I do that?”

“Easily, poppet. I shall show thee. And in thy nature there lies that which shall aid thee.”

She arose gracefully from the stool. “Now do thou bide still while I gather that which must return with thee. And do thou listen well to all that I say. Thou comest to warn, thou wilt go surely to save.”

Hagar went directly to a cupboard at the darker end of the room and slipped its heavy latch. Holly could see, within, small jars and bags arranged on its shelves. It would seem that Hagar herself was not quite decided which she would need, for she touched this packet, that jar, sometimes took one from the shelf and weighed it in her hand as if she must make very sure she selected that which was of the utmost importance.

At length she returned with several packets, one much larger than the others, but well wrapped so that Holly could not see what it contained. As she laid them down one by one on the table she spoke a name aloud, her finger still resting on each packet so named as if she were making sure Holly would know what it was.

“Furmentory, bryony, hemp; vervain, mugwort, moonwort, mullen, and the greatest of all”—she touched last the longer packet—”root of mandrake. Planted these must be, and in such a place as they may flourish unknown for a space. Dost thou understand?”

Holly nodded. Grandma's part of the fix-it shed. But now she asked, “What are all those for?”

“For our profit, my poppet. For as they grow, so will time be tied to time. Also wilt thou begin to grow in power. Moonwort—when it be ready—that thou may dream upon. True dreams such as those that brought thee hither. And when thou dost so dream, then shall I speak to thee and tell thee what thou must do next that this danger thou hast spoken of may not come nigh. Does thee now understand?”

“Yes.” She could really understand that Hagar needed this help if she were to escape Sexton Dimsdale. And if Hagar escaped so would Tamar, too, Holly assured her uneasy conscience. Because this must be why the house and the witch were gone the next day after the men had been frightened away.

Hagar leaned forward, her arm outstretched. “Close thy eyes, poppet!” she ordered.

Confused, Holly obeyed, and felt a light touch on each eyelid.

“Now thy mouth.” Holly, her eyes still closed, set her lips tightly together.

“As I do say—so mote it be!” she heard Hagar pronounce. “Well enough, poppet. Thy eyes shall serve, thy lips keep silence—until we meet again. And now, take that which must be set to grow, and return to thine own place.”

She had put the packets into a bag of green, the green of grass or of fresh leaves, and this she handed to Holly.

“Judy—Crock—?” Holly asked uncertainly.

“They shall not remember, naught but that ye all have been lost in the maze. Lead them by the hand and they will come safely out of it. Thou shalt do very well, poppet, very well indeed.”

Holly stuffed the green bag inside her jacket. But, as she was turning away from the table, Hagar spoke again. “Thy kin, poppet—thou hast brought them here, and what they have seen and heard—that was not for them, for they will not have it so. I have said that they shall not remember, and that be so if—”

“If?” Holly stood very still; there was something in that word “if,” as Hagar said it, which chilled her.

“If thou dost what must be done, all will be well with them, for the fault in their memories will not then heal. But if thou choosest not to do—” Hagar shook her head slowly. “Then I cannot say what fears will haunt them. For thou, poppet, have seen things here as they are. But thy kin have not had that clear sight and they have seen what will be ill to remember, shall haunt dreams.”

Holly looked from Hagar to Judy and Crock—their set face. Yes, she could see fear there. Hagar was right. It was her fault that they had come, her fault if they would have had dreams and memories.

“I won't let it happen!” It had been partly their fault, too—this came into her mind. But she would see that all was right, she would prove that
she
had been right.

“Just so, poppet. Remember all I have told thee and do what is to be done; thus all shall be well with thee in every
way.” Once more Hagar raised her hand and made a sign in the air.

Holly blinked. Had there been a strange glow about the other's pointing finger when she moved it so? Now it was gone and she was not at all sure she had seen it. She crossed the room and took Crock's hand where it hung limply by his side. It felt cold, as if he had been holding a piece of ice, and Judy's was the same.

Before them the door began to open slowly of itself. Leading the twins, Holly walked through it. The gloom outside was darker, clouds hung heavy over their heads, and there was a wind so chill that when it struck Holly full-face, it made her gasp. Home—just let them get back to the barnhouse, where it was warm and everything was just as it should be! Crock and Judy came along, but they still stared straight ahead. Holly had heard of people walking in their sleep—was that what the twins were doing? At least they were coming and she could lead them easily.

They were through the blasted garden. Holly paused and glanced back over her shoulder, why she did not know. The door was shut again, there was not even a curl of smoke from the chimney now to show that someone did live there. But the house itself—Holly's eyes seemed to blur, and through that blur she saw the outline of something which was not like the house at all, but far more seeming to be a dark monster crouched and watching her with mirror eyes.

The impression frightened her so, that she plunged ahead directly into the gate of the maze, her heart beating faster.
Her booted feet slipped on one of the slimy paving blocks and she nearly fell. Go slow, there was nothing behind her—

Down one way, turn, down another, always leading Crock and Judy. Now she was back with the monster who had the mirror eyes—she was sure this was the one. Only there were no shining disks in its head now, just big black holes. Holly shivered as she hurried by with the twins.

It was so cold, so very cold! And dark. Down near the ground in the tangle of brush, among the monster toadstools and ghost plants, were small specks of light. Holly saw them move, watching her—eyes! Eyes of things! She wanted to see no more of them, only be out of here, away into a world she could understand.

Turn, turn, and turn again. It would be so easy to make the wrong turn, only something deep in her mind
knew
. The eyes were growing bolder, she saw the ugly outlines of heads—rats! Holly gave a sound close to a whimper. She hated rats. But as yet none of them came directly into the path.

“Holly—Holly, where are we?” Crock suddenly jerked back against her pull. “Where—”

His eyes were no longer set in that sleepwalking stare. But he turned his head from side to side and he was still afraid, she could read that in his face.

“We're in the maze,” she answered shortly.

“We've got to get out!” his voice echoed, as the terrifying eyes crept closer to the edge of the pathway ahead. Holly glanced down and then looked away again quickly. She was certain that other things besides rats were closing in upon them. But Hagar had promised—

It was as if remembering Hagar's name made the fear retreat. Crock—there was nothing for him to be afraid of, she thought with a touch of scorn. Why, he would never have come this far if she hadn't brought him. And they had nothing to be afraid of, Hagar had promised—

“Come on,” Holly said harshly. “We can get out easy.”

But Crock had turned to his twin. “Judy? What's the matter with Judy?” Now he gave Holly an accusing glance.

“She's all right! She's—she's sort of asleep. Come on!”

Crock shivered, but he moved forward, and now he had caught Judy's other hand and they drew her along between them.

“Tamar—” Judy's voice was hardly above a whisper.