“No, you will not. Mama will never allow it.”
“We shall see,” Ágota says, smirking.
“I better return home,” Enede says reluctantly, eyeing the position of the sun. “My father expects me.”
“I should walk you home to make certain you are safe,” Ágota replies, and they give each other secretive smiles.
I may be a little girl, but I am not naive. Enede’s family lives close enough that we can see the smoke from her family’s hearth rising above the trees. This is yet another ploy by my beloved sister to steal kisses.
“Mama wants the water, Agy. Now.”
Ágota growls in her throat and I swear that Enede stares at her with even more adoration.
“Fine! I am getting the water!” Ágota kisses Enede’s cheek before stomping toward the well.
With a very red face, Enede darts away, her long blonde plaits bouncing against her back.
Satisfied, I twirl about and return to my mother’s side. I am pleased to see that she’
s finished her task. My doll twirls about to show off her mended skirt before dashing off.
“Agy is bringing the water. Enede brought this.” I set the basket on the table.
My mother flips back the covering to reveal a stack of unleavened bread and a slab of venison wrapped in a cloth. “Oh, how kind of her father. It seems his leg is feeling better if he is hunting again.”
“Well, you gave him a potion,” I remind her.
“Yes, but it was only honey water. He merely twisted his knee. It just needed time to heal, but he insisted on a potion.” My mother shrugs a shoulder. “If he believed it worked, that is good enough.”
The door bangs open. Ágota trudges in carrying the heavy bucket filled with water. “Can I give Erjy a tail?”
My mother raises her head, observes my sister for a moment, then bursts into laughter. “Did she interrupt your romancing?”
“You knew! You sent her out on purpose!” Ágota looks quite miffed. She staggers over to the hearth, water dangerously close to sloshing over the rim.
“How many times must I tell you to be careful, Ágota. The young women of this town will marry men and have their babies. Your future lies elsewhere.” My mother attempts to smooth Ágota’s wild hair, but my sister dodges her and sets the bucket down.
“What if I do not want to be elsewhere?” Ágota sticks out her chin defiantly, her hazel eyes aflame.
Our mother sighs, shaking her head. “Agy, you know that we can never stay in one place for more than a few years. It is too dangerous.”
“Maybe we should not have let the villagers know we are witches,” Ágota mutters.
My mother sighs. “Agy, you know that it is our nature to serve others with our magic.”
“To our detriment!”
“Can you hide who you are?” my mother asks, her gaze troubled.
Ágota fidgets, her fingers flexing at her side. “Maybe I want to remain here. Maybe I enjoy it enough not to move away. Maybe when you decide to move on I will stay here.”
My mother flicks her hand and the water from the bucket arcs into the pot over the fire. “Will you?”
Pressing her lips into a thin line, Ágota does not answer.
I am troubled by the thought of being separated from my sister.
“Will Agy get married, too, if she stays here?”