The bunny twitched his nose again and cocked an ear. To the left. Her eyes followed, but she knew to what even before her eyes rested on the object.
Nope, not that. Things would have to get much worse before Harriet resorted to that.
The bunny's ears sagged.
She looked around the old kitchen again, searching for inspiration. Resources might be low, but she still had her talent, and there had to be something here. Then she saw it. The mouse hole in the mop board! A summoning charm for a tomte, or maybe a hob. It would ruin her last copper pot, but if it went well she could certainly afford a new one. Charms to summon the little folk fetched a pretty penny these days.
Tomte ~hob~tomte~hob. A hob, she supposed, if she had what she needed. Tomtes had easier dispositions, being eager to please, but hobs were more powerful and weren't bound within the house they were summoned to serve. They were worth more.
She went to the store cupboard with the book. Milk thistle, a bit of cat's claw, penny royal, salt from the dead sea, a blue candle (it was a birthday candle but it would work) and stones from the crop of a dentulous fowl. By Hecate's good graces she found all the necessary materials - she could still pull this off.
The bunny wrinkled his nose.
Tragic Magic III