A Witch’s Kitchen Read online

  “So that’s why you’re obsessed with arithmancy,” Max said.

  Sagara nodded. “I want to do the same thing for all the Realms. I want all the knowledge there is to be freely available to everyone.”

  “I don’t know,” Petunia said. “Will that change the Realms? What if they all turn into this? It’s fascinating and wonderful but also strange and terrible. I wouldn’t want the Enchanted Forest to be cut down.”

  “I’m hoping that we can adapt the best things from this Realm to our own and leave the worst things behind. My mother can explain it better.” Sagara looked up from her map and squinted down the street. “All right. We’re here, and my mother’s office is here, which is actually pretty close. I don’t think we need the bus. We go that way.”

  They walked over the smooth, hard, strangely uniform stone of the city, houses and businesses squeezed tightly together on either side. Petunia darted from window to window, oohing and aahing. They passed many shops selling witches’ hats and magic supplies. Some offered herbs and incense, others tarot and palm readings. They passed an obviously fake haunted house and a pirate museum with dummy pirates dangling from the walls. Clothing vendors sold items that said puzzling things like, “Keep Calm and Carry a Wand” and “My other car is a broomstick.”

  Petunia stared at these for a while, and then she started laughing. “They’re jokes! I don’t understand all of them, but I’m sure of it. Can we go get a joke book in one of these stores?”

  “Um, I don’t think I have enough money papers,” Sagara told her.

  For every shop that was vaguely familiar, there were several others Millie couldn’t figure out at all. What was an ATM? What did pharmacy mean? What was a comic book? And there were so many places to eat, with enticing and strange aromas. Many of the foods were completely new to her.

  She stopped in front of a store window. There was her Coven dress, all black and artfully tattered. Next to it was the long, wine-colored velvet gown that Bogdana wore frequently. Suddenly, the bottom fell out of Millie’s stomach. “My mother has been here,” she whispered.

  “Hey!” Max said. “I know that sign. It’s on the boxes of Thai food my father brings home.”

  Sagara smirked. “See? I told you.”

  Millie felt hot and overwhelmed. “Are we nearly there?”

  “Just down this way,” Sagara said confidently. “I recognize this cobblestone street.”

  They walked down a road wide enough for cars but apparently intended only for people. At one tall building squashed between several others, next to a shop offering something called “cappuccino,” Sagara stopped. “This is it. Look.”

  The sign on the door read, “Arela Software (upstairs).”

  “At last,” said Max. “Let’s go see your mother.”

  They trooped up the stairs to a bright, open room where many humans sat in odd, cloth-covered boxes, poking panels of buttons with their fingers. A woman sitting at a desk looked up as they entered. “May I help you?” she asked.

  “I am here to see Lillian Arela,” Sagara said formally.

  “Sagara?” came a shocked voice behind them.

  Millie turned around. The woman standing there staring at them might have been an elf once. She was tall and thin and graceful as an elf, but her hair was brown and wildly curly, hiding her ears. And she was dressed like other humans, like Sagara herself in fact, in those snug blue trousers and a pale green shirt that left her arms bare. But Sagara had no doubts. “Mom!” she cried, and flew into the woman’s arms.

  Lillian hugged her daughter close, laughing. “What a pleasant surprise, dear girl,” she said in Canto. “I can’t imagine how you managed it. Your grandmother will have absolute fits.”

  Sagara giggled. “Don’t worry, she has no idea I’m here.”

  Lillian peered over her daughter’s head. “And who are your friends?” she asked.

  “Oh, sorry,” Sagara said. “This is my friend Millie, her brother Max, and my friend Petunia.”

  Millie curtsied. “Pleased to meet you.” Beside her, Max bowed in his wizard robes and said, in clear English, “We come in peace. Take us to your leader.”

  Petunia nodded. “May the force be with you.”

  The woman at the desk giggled. “They’re adorable, Lillian,” she said. “I didn’t know your daughter was visiting.”

  Lillian flashed her an embarrassed smile. “Neither did I, Anna. This is an unexpected surprise.”

  “You came a long way,” Anna said to them. “You’re from Portugal, right?”

  Millie nodded. “We are here for school trip,” she said carefully, the cover story they’d agreed on.

  “Why don’t you all come in my office?” Lillian said hastily. “Anna, could you hold my calls, please?”

  “Sure thing, hon,” Anna said.

  Max looked puzzled. “What would you hold them in?” Hastily, Millie grabbed his hand and led him to the office.

  Lillian closed the door behind them.

  “Blessed Root, Sagara!” Lillian exploded. “That was a terribly dangerous thing to do. I’m surprised the portal guardian let you pass. And however did you get hold of pixie dust?”

  “Befriended a pixie,” said Petunia, grinning.

  Whatever her mother was expecting, it wasn’t that. “Oh,” she said shortly. “How is that possible?”

  “I transformed her into a human before we came through the portal,” Millie said proudly.

  Lillian waved that off. “Sagara, no one is supposed to know that I’m here.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom,” Sagara said. “I swore them all to secrecy. Formally.”

  Millie nodded confirmation.

  “Thank the stars,” Lillian said in relief. “But why are they here?”

  “We’re just helping a friend,” Millie said. “Also, well, I’m sort of running away from home.”

  Lillian frowned. “I’m really not comfortable with that. Your parents will come looking for you.”

  “I don’t care,” Millie said defiantly. “I’m not going back. I want to be a chef.”

  “A chef?” Lillian looked startled. “Really?”

  Petunia nodded vigorously. “Millie is the best cook in the entire Enchanted Forest.”

  “She can make elfcakes. They’re almost as good as yours,” Sagara said.

  “Wow. I’m impressed,” Lillian admitted. “But then why come here?”

  Millie pulled Simple Pleasures from her satchel. “This is my favorite cookbook. The chef has a restaurant here in Salem. I thought maybe I could study with him.”

  Lillian flipped through the book and started laughing. “This is my favorite restaurant! I can only afford to go there once a month, but I’d go every day if I could. However did you get this cookbook? And why is the dust cover missing?” She cocked her head, studying Millie’s face. “I wonder...”

  Lillian tapped at one of those button panels on her desk. The glowing painting above it changed. She turned it to Millie. “Do you recognize this man?”

  The painting said, “Savor Salem” across the top. Below it and to the right, there was a picture of a man with thin blond hair, twinkling brown eyes, and a ruddy pink complexion. He looked familiar somehow...

  “Millie,” Max whispered. “He looks like you.”

  Petunia whistled. “You’re right. He looks just like her.”

  “I told you my dad said your father wasn’t dead!” Max exclaimed. “That’s got to be him! It all makes sense! How you speak English, how you got this cookbook. That’s your dad.”

  “I think so, too,” Lillian said. “You would have seen his picture on the dust cover if you’d had it. Dean MacRae is an exceptional chef, one of the finest in the country. Of all the humans I’ve ever known, he’s the only one I’d think would have a ghost of a chance of making elfcakes.” Lillian sighed. “Oak and ash, I miss elfcakes.”

  “Dean! Didn’t I tell you my dad said his name was Dean?” Max pointed out.

  Millie felt like som
eone had punched her in the stomach. She stared at the man’s image. He did seem familiar... “Can we go there?” Millie asked. “Please?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Lillian said.

  “Come on, we have to go,” Petunia insisted.

  “Imagine, Mom,” Sagara added. “I at least remember you. And I get to visit you every once in a while. Millie has never met her father.”

  Lillian gathered Sagara to her. “You know this is not my choice. I never wanted to be separated from you.”

  “I know, Mom. I understand, I really do,” Sagara said. “I just really miss you. Grandmother’s all right, but it’s just not the same. If it weren’t for Millie’s elfcakes, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  Lillian looked at Millie, then at her daughter.

  “All right,” Lillian said. “Let me finish up a couple of things, and I’ll take you to the restaurant. It’s over at the wharf.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Millie gasped. “Thank you so much.”

  Lillian gave her a little smile. “I have a soft spot for runaways.”

  Sagara slid off her mother’s lap and stood beside her chair, watching intently as Lillian rapidly danced her fingers over the little buttons marked with English letters. She peered intently at the glowing painting, which Millie realized was something like a magic mirror.

  “What do you think she’s doing?” Millie whispered to Max.

  “Technology magic,” Max whispered back. “Want to hear something interesting? Dad has one of those in his laboratory. I’ve seen him use it, but I couldn’t read it before because it was all in English.”

  After a few minutes, Lillian stopped tapping with a little flourish and sat back. “There. That will keep until tomorrow. Come on, my car’s in the basement garage.”

  They marched out of the little office, and Lillian informed Anna that she was taking the rest of the afternoon off.

  “Whatever you say, boss lady,” Anna said, winking. “Have a lovely time, all of you.”

  Millie fairly flew down the stairs after Sagara and her mother. They went down below ground level and through a door into a vast, cavernous, echoing space where dozens of cars lined up. Lillian waved some kind of wand, and a small blue car beeped and flashed its lights. Lillian turned to them. “All right, get in.”

  Sagara sat in front with her mother, Max, Millie, and Petunia sat in the back seat. Lillian showed them how to fasten their seat belts. Then she pressed a button, and the vehicle began to hum quietly.

  “This one’s different from the other carriages,” Max said. “It’s not so loud, and it doesn’t smell like smoke.”

  “It’s electric,” Lillian said. “I use a device that converts sunlight into energy, and I store that energy in the car. No burning, no smoke.”

  She drove them out of the garage and into the sunlight, pulling deftly out into the busy street. As they made their way through the city, Sagara consulted her guidebook and called out interesting sights. “Look, the home of Nathaniel Hawthorne, whoever he was. Oh, the place where they hanged people suspected of being witches. Ugh.”

  “It was all a terrible mistake,” Lillian said sadly. “When humans are angry or frightened, they don’t think very clearly. Sometimes they do awful things.”

  “Sounds like most people,” said Petunia.

  “That way is the House of the Seven Gables,” Sagara said.

  “We’ll have to go there another time,” Lillian said. “We’re at the restaurant now.”

  “Really?” Millie squealed. “Where is it?”

  Lillian pulled the car to the side of the road and turned it off. “Right there,” she said, pointing at a building right at the water’s edge. “Everybody out.”

  The children struggled briefly with their seat belts, then sprang out of the car and onto the sidewalk. Millie ran straight up to the restaurant’s door and tugged on it, but it was locked. As the others arrived, Millie began pounding on the door. After a few moments, a woman came to the door, frowning.

  “May we come in, please?” Millie asked in her best English.

  The woman shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, we don’t open until 5 o’clock.”

  “Excuse me,” said Lillian smoothly. “I’m very sorry to disturb you, but Millie here believes that her father may work here.”

  “Her father?” asked the woman, glancing again at Millie.

  Millie held up the cookbook. “Dean MacRae. I think he is my father.”

  The woman’s mouth formed a round O. “Just a moment,” she said and hurried away. A few moments later, they heard a muffled shout, and then a man flung open the door.

  As soon as she smelled him, that whiff of musk and herbs and spice, Millie remembered him. He had a bit less of his fine blond hair, and it had gone gray at his temples. His face was flushed, and his eyes were the very same soft brown as Millie’s. He was also a bit wider around the middle. Despite that, he seemed smaller somehow. He fell to his knees.

  “Daddy?” Millie whispered.

  “Yes, my darling dear, oh yes,” said Dean MacRae, holding out his arms. “Millie, my Millie, you’ve found me at last.”

  And Millie fell right into his arms and hugged him so hard she was sure she would never let go.

  A Bite of Bruschetta

  Millie could feel her father’s tears hot on her neck. Her own tears were running down her face. She heard Max snuffling behind her, and she turned to him and smiled.

  “Daddy, this is my brother Max,” she said. “And my friend Petunia, my friend Sagara, and her mother, Lillian.”

  Dean looked up. “Good heavens, Max. I never thought I’d get to meet you, laddie, though I’ve heard a great deal about you.” Still hugging Millie close, he stood up and extended a hand to Lillian. “Thank you for bringing my daughter to me, Lillian.”

  “Don’t thank me,” she replied. “I think my daughter engineered the whole thing.”

  Dean huffed a laugh and set Millie down. “Won’t you all come in?”

  They followed him into the restaurant. It was quite elegant, Millie decided, as her father set her down at a table. Everything was clean and sparkling, the tables covered with crisp white linen, the napkins in little fans protruding from the glasses. They could hear others working in another room nearby, and, oh, the smells! They were wondrous, delightful! Millie had never smelled anything like them. Beside her, she could see Max going nearly cross-eyed with sudden hunger.

  “That smells...” said Sagara. “That smells... amazing!”

  Dean actually blushed. “Well, thank you. Are you hungry? Timmy!” he roared. “Timmy!”

  A young man in a white coat and a poofy white hat hurried out of the kitchen. “Yes, chef?”

  “Bring us a bruschetta!”

  “Right away, chef!” He hurried off.

  Dean turned to Millie and hugged her again. She took out a handkerchief and blew her nose, which made him laugh.

  “Oh, Millie,” her father said. “I am so happy to see you. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you, my wee girl. The last time I saw your mother was when I gave her that cookbook for you. She said you were my daughter for certain, you had such a way in the kitchen. Did you like the book?”

  “It’s wonderful!” Millie told him, pulling it from her satchel. “I use it almost every day. Horace loves your brownies.” She pulled a brownie from her cauldron to demonstrate.

  Dean chuckled. “Is that old ghost still banging about your pantry, then?”

  Sagara put in, “Millie turned him into a frog.”

  Millie felt her cheeks turn red. “I turned him back!”

  “Like your mother, too, then?” Dean asked. “You certainly have her nose.” He nibbled the brownie, and his eyes widened. “This is good. Really good.”

  “I don’t have her nose,” she said. “And no, I’m not. My magic is very different than Mother’s.” And then she told him absolutely everything. The bruschetta arrived, toasted bread piled high with tomatoes, onions, basil, and a sh
arp cheese. Millie ignored it, telling him about her struggles with magic, and school, and meeting Max, and transforming Horace, and saving Thea from Cretacia, and learning about her mother’s binding. Max, Petunia, and Sagara interrrupted frequently when she forgot some detail or got events mixed up.

  When she finished, he sat back. “So you forgot about me, and she never told you otherwise.” He sounded sad. “Well, that explains a lot.”

  Lillian put down the slice of bruschetta she’d been munching and mumbled, “I think it may be more than that.”

  Millie’s father turned to her and held out his hand. “I’m sorry, I’ve been a poor host. I’m Dean MacRae.”

  “That I know,” said Lillian. “I eat here as often as I can afford to. I’ve met you twice before, but you certainly can’t be expected to remember all your customers. Lillian Arela, once known as Liliea ap Erlaria et Arela.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Elf?”

  She smiled and nodded. “But I live here in Salem now.”

  “Good gravy,” Dean said. “How many others from the Other Side are living here?”

  “Not many that I know of,” Lillian told him. “Most of us can’t live without magic, and those who can generally don’t want to. Anyway, I don’t think it’s entirely Millie’s fault. I’m guessing that her mother cast a spell of forgetfulness on her when she was very young.”

  Dean looked grim. “That makes sense.”

  “Yeah, I grok that,” said Max.

  Anger got the best of Millie, and she blurted out, “That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t right. She should have told me.”

  Dean put his head in his hands. “She was embarrassed, consorting with an ordinary human. She would never introduce me to anyone, not even her parents. I know she loved me, but she must have been powerfully conflicted. And then, when she was elected to the Council, she just stopped coming.” He looked up. “I think I would like to have a word with Bogdana.”

  “Your wish is granted,” said an icy voice behind him.

  Millie gasped. Her mother was standing in the entrance of the restaurant.

  “Ludmilla, come here,” said Bogdana. “We are going home. Now.”

  Dean stood up and faced her. “Oh, no. I haven’t seen my daughter for six years. I am not letting her go that easily.”