Nope. Definitely not right. The concoction in the pitted cauldron should have turned a clear blue. And no lumps.
Harriet skimmed the list of ingredients with her finger. Yep, yep, yep, all there. She reread she directions, yep, yep ... how had she missed stick of juniper in the fire?
She grabbed one and threw it into the flames, saying a silent prayer to Hecate and anyone else who might be listening.
The bunny twitched an ear, catching her attention. He pointed toward the door, and through the glass she saw an elderly man, hand up, about to knock. He was short, his round face only showing in the lower pane, a houndstooth derby in the middle one. He smiled and dropped his hand when he realized she saw him.
She opened the door just enough to stick her head out, but he pushed it right open and stepped inside with a wide smile. "Good day to you. I wonder if I might have a few moments of your time." He looked around her kitchen, his smile growing. "Just in time, I see. Excellent."
"I'm afraid now's not a good time, Mr. ..."
"Pithwick. Cecil B. Pithwick, at your service." He bowed, sweeping the derby off his head.
"Mr. Pillwick. I'm sorry, but now's not the best time-"
He sniffed. "Pithwick. Forgot the juniper branch, didn't you? Happens to the best of us," he said, shaking his head.
He walked to the cauldron, patting the bunny's head as he passed, and peered in. "Oh, fear not. This is salvageable. A bit of salt will do the trick." He chuckled, and confided, "works with stew, to." He reached into his vest pocket and sprinkled a pinch of something in. The cauldron belched blue smoke. "There. Right as rain."
Harriet's eyebrow went up and she frowned. "How did you-"
He dismissed her question with a wave. "Now. As I was saying. Just a few moments and I'll be on my way."
"If you're selling-"
He laughed, genuinely amused. "Selling! Good heavens, no. I'm from the Council of Enchanted Creatures," he paused, and looked at Harriet's bunny. "And our radar went off when you conjured ..." his voice trailed off.
"Bun Bun," Harriet supplied.
"Yes, Bun Bun." His eyebrow went up, but he continued, "the Council has need of Bun Bun's services." He paused and looked around the worn kitchen, before continuing, "you will, of course, be compensated for your efforts. Both of you."
At Harriet's confused look, Pillwick exclaimed, "Why, you have no idea, do you! Your Bun Bun, is a Cuniculus Afflatus. One of the rarest of all enchanted creatures, channeling divine knowledge. He is the proverbial Lucky Rabbit, and still has all four feet! We thought we'd have to wait years to find one, and POOF, you conjured him, just like that!"
Harriet looked at the bunny. He shrugged his ears.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked.
Tragic Magic
Tragic Magic II
Are these your words? A story you're working on publishing? This was amazing, such detail. You have an awesome voice.
ReplyDeleteI love your blog, the sign telling me to go back was hilarious. I am definitely sticking around!!!
Just here to welcome you to the A to Z blogging challenge! I'm a co-host, should you have questions don't hesitate to ask! I know we're on day 2 but you are already rockin' it out! I do hope you'll stop by and say hello! We are also having fun on twitter (I'm @jenunedited and we're at #atozchallenge)!
So nice to meet you, Jen! Thanks! Harriet is a character is my queue. I like her. I have to play around and see if I have chemistry with a character before I commit. I think Harriet and I are going to get on just fine.
ReplyDeleteI'll find you on Twitter!
Hey Paige!
ReplyDeleteThis is fantastic! I surfed over from FB after reading "I've got the perfect post for you" under Tifany's "Rabbit Rabbit" post. How long do we have to wait before we can read about Harriet in novel form? I could use a lucky rabbit.
My interest is peaked! You did a wonderful job Paige and i can't wait to read more!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Guys! Harriet is waiting very patiently (and trying to fix her potion in the meantime). :-)
ReplyDeleteYou've got me hooked.
ReplyDeleteExcellent! You'll be seeing more of Harriet.
ReplyDelete