Addison walked out of the herbalist with a wide bag made out of soft cloth. Inside sat both forms of nightshade and the burlap pouch she had arrived with. The small pouch had only a fraction of the coins she had been sent with, and there was a mousy voice in the back of her mind telling her that Matilda was likely going to be miffed about that fact.

She hadn’t been able to pass up the opportunity, and nothing but her currency had seemed worthwhile to trade for the products she wanted.

Surely the item was more important than what it cost, she reasoned.

Day turned to dusk as she walked. By the time she set the herbs down on the table inside the witch’s home, the sun had retired for the night.

The table had been cleared of the heavy cauldron and other paraphernalia of the day's experiments.

“Matilda?” Addison called out.

It wasn’t exactly a great idea to startle her on an active magic day. Her last singed hair cut had taken almost a year to grow out again.

“Matilda…” she called again as she backed away from the wooden slab. Glancing around the room she didn’t spot any clues as to where she went and let out an impatient rush of breath. She was certain the old witch was playing games with her, and the day would turn from exhausting to bitter in one round.

Her feet moved hesitantly toward the back of the single-story dwelling. Behind the living room and kitchen sat two tiny bedrooms and a bathroom. She was lucky there was a private place at all for her bed and stuff since she only spent a third of her year anywhere near the human shack. She never voiced complaints, and she never touched the other room.

Standing on the warped floorboards at the back of the hallway, her eyes glanced at the doors. All three of them were closed, and even though she knew which room was which- all of them suddenly seemed ominous and off-limits. Her heart beat a little faster, a spike of anxiety making her unsure of herself and what to do next.

She had done what she had been told- she had walked to the village and gotten the herbs. She had brought back the change and come back to…silence, even though the task had been important enough to rip her from the queen in the middle of a sentence.

“Mom?” The words came out barely above a whisper.

A cackle came bursting through the walls. The sound slid around the cracks in the door and wafted in-between the wooden slats. It grew to a dull roar of dry laughter, and Addison cringed. Her shoulders lifted to her neck, and she took a step back away from the door.

Her body had finished its movement mere seconds before the door flew open, unleashing the full cacophony of the witches lingering cackle.

“Well, why didn’t you lead with that?” Matilda asked, speaking from somewhere inside the dimly lit bedroom.

“So now we are playing tricks?” Addison asked. She chose not to move any of her other muscles.

“I played no tricks, Addy.” The scratchy voice called when the laughter had finally stopped. During the silence that followed the words, two small thumps came from the room, followed by footsteps toward the door. Matilda stopped at the doorway and looked out at the hallway, making a point to look at everything else before landing on Addison. “I missed you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” With her piece spoke, Addison turned and moved back out to the living room. She waved an arm toward the table, assuming that the sounds behind her were still more footsteps. “It’s in the bag.”

“And my cha-” Matilda began to ask before she was cut off.

“The remaining coins are in there too.” Addison rushed through the words, not in the mood to deal with useless arguments. She let her arm drop down to her side, and she walked out the door.

It shut behind her with a dull thud. There was no way of telling how pissed off the witch would be, or if she would follow her out the door. She wasn’t sure it mattered. Nature was calling her, and she didn’t intend to be cooped up and made fun of while ignoring that call.

A few feet away from the door, Addison sat out in a patch of dying grass. She scooped her legs up and wrapped her arms underneath her knees. She knew she was being childish, and she knew she would pay for it any minute. She looked up at the stars, wishing she could join them just for a night.