Chapter 4: Yuzan you stupid frog!

Xīsà crouched in a corner amidst the shadowy rafters of the hut, squeezing her body into its most compact shape. Bits of straw from the thatched ceiling snagged strands of her inky black hair and cool drafts of night air leaked through seams in the walls. She watched the strange woman from above. Everything about this woman spoke wildness, from her chaotic curling afro to the air of unrestrained confidence she exuded.

When that woman had returned to the house earlier to find Xisa missing, she had simply smirked, not in the least perturbed. Such a reaction gave Xisa chills- it felt as if she knew Xisa was still there, or knew that Xisa had no way of escaping, nowhere else to go. Xisa watched the woman light her little stove for a kettle of water. The sun had long since set and the only light in the hut came from the flickering candles strewn about.

It had been several days since this strange woman had brought Xīsà here for who knows why, and Xīsà still wasn’t sure if she should think of it as kidnapping or rescuing. Xīsà wavered slightly on her perch, quickly grabbing the wall beside her to steady herself until the wave of dizziness passed. She looked at her wrists, shrunken to half the size they ought to be. Her stomach growled. She supposed she should be thankful to this lady, even if it was a kidnapping.

Still… Xīsà couldn’t bring herself to trust the woman completely.

At the same time, while Xīsà now had enough strength to move about on her own, she was still horrendously weak and her brain remained in a dazed state, thoughts shrouded in a layer of cobwebs. This added to the fact that Xīsà knew neither where she was nor what this woman’s intentions were, Xīsà decided to hide and observe rather than run off into the dark and mysterious woods surrounding the place.

The woman cleared off the little table by the kitchen area and placed out four teacups, then sat down, her head resting on one hand and her eyes glazed over as if deep in thought. The fingers of her other hand mindlessly traced the patterns of the wood grain on the table.

Xīsà started at the slimy feeling of an amphibian moving against her skin, but she quickly relaxed when she realized it was only Yùzān. Thinking he might want to watch too, Xīsà reached her hand into her shirt and pulled out the pale green frog that had been clinging soundlessly to the side of her ribcage and gingerly placed him on her shoulder. Since the moment Xisa found him, the little tree frog had refused to leave her side, no matter how much Xīsà coaxed him. Her family always looked on in disgust at the creature that obediently hopped behind her. It was a miracle that they had never managed to catch the little guy- likely her parents would have cooked him into a stew.

A deep frown manifested on the young girl’s lips. Before Xīsà could contemplate her family any further, however, a pair of strangers burst into the room; a woman and a child.

“Maisha.” The tall woman called out in a low voice as she stepped inside.

Right, that woman had said she was called ‘Maisha,’ Xisa recalled.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of the door, some slithering, green thing shot out of a sleeve of the child’s dress and maneuvered itself onto Maisha’s shoulders. A look of surprise flashed over Maisha’s face, but she quickly reclaimed her unruffled look and gracefully flitted over, taking the other woman’s hands in her own.

“Sister! I’m so glad you’re he-”

“Sister?! Who’s your sister?!” The stranger scolded, her originally soft voice shifting into something harsh, “After a stunt like this, you’re gonna stand here and call me sister?! When was the last time we even spoke? 50 some years?”

50 years!? Xisa wondered skeptically, my parents are younger than 50 and these two look much younger than them… Xisa shook her head. Perhaps she had heard it wrong?

“And instead of saying a word to me, you trick me into coming?” the stranger continued, “Don’t say this was just coincidence, not when you’ve got all those fate magics up your sleeve! Why are you involving me in things I’d rather keep my nose out of! Do you know the sort of ruckus your stunt caused back at WūChéng?!”

Xisa’s attention focused on the woman who continued to rebuke Maisha. Whereas Maisha had dark skin and kinky hair, this woman looked more similar to the people of Xisa’s hometown- before the famine struck, that is. With sleek black hair and golden-hued skin, the woman walked with an upright posture, her movements graceful and her brows laced with pride. A long green dress clung tightly to her figure, pronouncing her mild curves. Embroidered on the dress with golden, white, and pine green threads was a myriad of flowers, leaves, Xīsà even thought she could make out a tiger. Unwittingly, Xisa felt herself relax at the sight of her, comforted by the slight familiarity.

“Sōngbǎi…” At this point, the stranger’s ranting had finally tapered off, leaving an opening for Maisha to get a word in,

“Sōngbǎi, I didn’t actually mean to get you involved, I’m really-”

“What?! You think I believe that?” The one called ‘Songbai’ sneered, “All-knowing, all-forseeing Maisha. Even if that’s true, how can you just act so rashly?! You could get someone killed! No plan! No forethought! Ha! How ironic!”

In one sudden motion she snatched a folding fan out of her sash and whacked Maisha on the head with it. Ua retreated into Maisha’s clothes in a desperate attempt to avoid Songbai’s wrath.

Maisha smiled sheepishly at the woman in front of her, rubbing her head almost pitfully.

“Who said my actions had no plan or forethought behind them? I didn’t mean to get you involved, really, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I made a mistake.”

In the flickering candlelight, her sheepish smile actually looked rather… creepy.

Sōngbǎi furrowed her brows and made to whack Maisha again, but Maisha anticipated her response and dodged just in time.

“Stop speaking in riddles,” Sōngbǎi reprimanded, “Tell me what’s going on. This silly child is obviously a witch, but… ” Sōngbǎi cast an odd look in the child’s direction as her words tapered off into silence.

At that moment the kettle on the stove began whistling. Maisha waved them over to the kitchen table and brought out the tea. She poured three cups but left the fourth teacup empty, then placed the teapot in the middle.

“Ey!” Maisha jumped, startled by yet another attack of the folding fan, “And what was that for?!”

Songbai shrugged.

“Morg,” Songbai called to the young girl still standing wide-eyed by the door, “Come sit down and have some tea. It's been a long night.”

The little girl silently followed the disgruntled Sōngbǎi to the table. Xīsà turned her attention to this shorter stranger. The first thing she noticed was the child’s chubbiness, which immediately made Xīsà overwhelmingly jealous. The girl had fair skin, though she was clearly somewhat tanned by the looks of the funny tanlines on her arms. Her light hair took on a bright honey hue in the candlelight, contrasting with her dark eyebrows. Xīsà could tell even from this distance that she had quite the set of penetrating green eyes. Her face was a strange mash of soft curves and hard angles, her pointed nose and piercing gaze contrasting oddly with the gentle slope of her cheekbones and jawline.

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Xīsà’s attention returned to Maisha when she began to speak;

“Around a month ago I had an… interesting vision. It led me to investigate Morgan here and I discovered that her abilities are already manifesting. Without proper training, her magic might get out of her control.”

Sōngbǎi spoke up, “Indeed… from what she’s told me, it would seem that her parents made her upset and she unintentionally turned them into… frogs.”

The conversation paused briefly as the three at the table looked at the jar in Morg’s hands. Even Xīsà couldn’t help steal a glance, wondering what sort of calamity Morg’s parents had put her through to trigger such a thing. Xīsà had been through many hardships, but she never took it out on anyone and never lost control. In fact, she prided herself in how calm she could remain, even in the midst of suffering. She never lost her temper. She never cried. But how great would it have been to turn her own parents into frogs instead…

“What’s your motive?” Songbai suddenly asked, her question cutting through the brief silence. Maisha’s grin widened and she opened her mouth to respond but Songbai held up a hand and cut her off.

“Nevermind. As if you would tell me the truth, anyways.”

Maisha shut her mouth once more, her expression faltering. The candlelight cast flickering shadows throughout the hut.

“I couldn’t just leave them there when our futures could instead intertwine into something mutually beneficial,” Maisha finally offered.

Songbai stared at Maisha stoically with her arms crossed.

“Ha! Mutual benefits. That’s believable for you. Why did you not go to the little witch yourself, then?”

“Well,” Maisha responded after a pause and a nonchalant shrug, “I left her with something that unfailingly returns to me, and most auspiciously. Just look, that card’s gotten Morg here safely and dragged in an old friend- this is already a better outcome than if I had escorted her here myself!” She turned to Morg and held out her hand, “Speaking of which, the card I left you with?”

Morg’s eyes were already the size of saucers, so stunned with the otherworldly events of the evening that her little 9-year-old mind couldn’t handle it. It took a moment of staring before Morg realized Maisha was actually talking to her. With a start, Morg began rummaging through her pockets until she found a little card- this must be what she was asking for, right?- and quickly placed it in Maisha’s open palm. The moment it touched her fingers, the card sparked, dark smoke oozing out of its face. When Maisha then held the card up with two slender fingers, it had turned black and was at least twice the size as before. If Xīsà were a little closer, she might have been able to see the striking artwork on the tarot card, an elegant woman holding a pomegranate in one hand, intricate lettering spelling out ‘The High Priestess’ across the bottom.

But from where Xīsà perched, she could only make out Maisha’s mischievous smile, the sharpness of her ivory white teeth looking almost threatening.

Sōngbǎi let out a soft “ah” at the sight of the card. After a brief moment of silence, Sōngbǎi suddenly swiped at Maisha again from across the table, the folding fan whizzing past Maisha’s nose as she hurried to dodge, cackling.

“Why did your stupid cards have to get me involved with all this anyway! I would be better off not knowing! With magic abilities this early, there’s certainly trouble to follow!” she paused, glancing at Morg’s comically large, innocent eyes. Despite being ‘better off not knowing,’ Songbai couldn’t stop her tongue from interrogating Maisha.

“And stop dancing around my questions! What was so urgent that you had to leave Morg with only a silly card?”

Maisha grinned eerily, and without skipping a beat replied, “ Little Morg has a twin soul.”

The hut became deadly silent.

“WHAT?!?!” Sōngbǎi jumped up so violently that her chair toppled over, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE HAS A TWIN SOUL, I DON’T WANT TO KNOW THIS ARE YOU TRYING TO GET ME KILLED?! GODDAMMIT, MAISHA?!!”

“What? You asked,” she said in a low voice, that mischievous grin still sprawled across her face. Her fingers began tracing the wood grain of the table again when she continued,

“Actually, I think this must be why fate sought you out. Her twin soul is from Northern China.”

Xīsà’s heart thumped in her chest.

Sōngbǎi was about to throw her fan at Maisha, but upon hearing this, retracted her hand and instead began tapping it against her chin.

“Twin souls,” Sōngbǎi muttered, “but there hasn’t been such a pair of twin souls like this since…”

“I know,” Maisha cut in, casting a sidelong glance at Morg, who sat stupefied and rather confused-looking beside Sōngbǎi.

Sōngbǎi sucked in a breath. “This other twin soul… I assume you plan on bringing her back here as well?”

Maisha inclined her head toward the fourth teacup in response.

But this exchange was lost on Xīsà, for at that particular point, she had shifted her gaze to stare at Morg. And Morg was staring straight back. Nearly toppling over from the shock of being found out, Xīsà hurried to steady herself on the beams. But at this really rather frightening lurch of her body, Yùzān also started. With Xisa still wavering and wobbling about, he couldn’t quite find his balance and so, in a panicked frenzy, he leapt off of Xisa’s shoulder, limbs flailing dramatically. The little frog’s departure from her side was enough to bring Xīsà to tears. In a panic, she desperately threw her hands out in the direction of the frog. However, still being slightly off balance herself, she only managed to tangle herself around her own limbs even more, leading to a particularly painful crash-landing on the floor of the hut.

Xīsà whipped her head up, her eyes flitting around the room in search of her slimy companion as she sat sprawled on the floor. Morg had watched the entire ordeal, and if she wasn’t so stupefied by the strangeness of the day, would have even found it a little funny. Having seen exactly where the clumsy frog landed, Morg rushed to secure the little guy, setting down her own frogs to cup this one in her palms.

Crossing the room to stand in front of Xīsà, who still sat on the floor, Morg knelt down and held out her cupped hands. A slimy green face wriggled its way out through the gaps between her fingers. Xīsà’s face lit up when she saw her little companion and promptly snatched him out of Morg’s grasp, trapping him in her own. Once back by Xīsà’s side, the jade green frog finally stopped squirming.

Yùzān you stupid frog…

With three pairs of eyes now attached to her, Xīsà wanted to find a new hiding place to slide into. She much preferred observing from a distance, but now it seemed she had become the focus of attention. Noticing her discomfort, Morg awkwardly scurried back to the table and sat down again. Maisha seemed completely unperturbed by the event, merely motioning for Xīsà to come sit with them.

“I see…” Sōngbǎi looked at Maisha, who was serenely pouring tea into the fourth teacup. Sōngbǎi felt like smacking her again, but restrained herself. Xīsà hesitantly sat in the fourth spot at the table, across from Morg.

“Do you speak English?” Sōngbǎi asked the newcomer kindly. Xīsà just stared at her blankly.

Maisha interjected, “I’ve cast the translation spell, so she can understand us and we can understand her.”

“Great Goddess! What a long time to sustain the translation spell! And across four people! So I take it she only speaks Mandarin? What’s her name?”

Maisha shrugged, “I’m not sure… on both counts; she hasn’t said a word in any language since I brought her here, and I never managed to catch it in any of my visions.”

Sōngbǎi reached out as if to poke at Xīsà’s gaunt face, but Maisha slapped her hand away.

“What are you, a grade schooler? Who wants their face poked?” She clicked her tongue at Sōngbǎi and grabbed a leg of Xīsà’s chair, protectively pulling the girl closer to her.

“What? Why shouldn’t I?” she retorted, “Morg likes it fine.” Sōngbǎi pinched Morg’s cheek, eliciting a “Hey!” from Morg.

“I do not, I do not like it fine, pinch your own cheek!”

Maisha chuckled at the dejected look on Sōngbǎi’s face.

“So,” Maisha started, suddenly turning serious, “Sōngbǎi, can I trouble you to keep this all a secret for now? While I train them to control their powers at least?”

Maisha’s pretty eyebrows slanted upward into the most pitifully imploring expression that Sōngbǎi could only stifle a sigh and nod once in agreement.

Feeling somewhat bewitched, Sonagbai snapped herself out of it.

“And if they refuse to train with you?”

Maisha raised her eyebrows at the notion and let out a light sigh.

“Oh… well then that would be a shame.” Although her expression looked rueful at the thought, her eyes twinkled, as if enjoying a joke only she knew the punchline to, “It is indeed a decision they’ll have to make for themselves.”