Chapter 5: We're Witches!

As the two adults continued bickering, Morg leaned over the table and tapped Xisa on the forearm, grinning goofily.

“Psst! Hey, did you turn someone into a frog, too?” she whispered, delighted at the prospect of finding a comrade in her troubles. Scrunching up her nose, Xisa hid Yuzan under her shirt and moved her arms out of reach. Morg didn’t seem particularly perturbed at having been ignored, offering Xisa another friendly smile before sitting back in her chair and sniffing curiously at her tea. She took a sip. Overwhelming bitterness and a strange flavor she couldn’t place immediately invaded her taste buds, causing Morg to reflexively dribble the tea back into her cup.

Feeling a little embarrassed at her unladylike behavior, Morg stole glances at the others sitting around the table. The two adults were far too immersed in their conversation to have noticed but when Morg’s eyes met Xisa’s, she couldn’t help but flinch a little. The girl had clearly been staring at her the whole time. Morg felt her cheeks grow hot.

After some time of patiently listening to the two adults prattle on about witches and twin souls and whatnot, Morg finally noticed Maisha and Songbai sink into silence, simmering in their own thoughts. With a lull in the conversation, the young girl took the opportunity to speak up.

“So… I’m not really sure what’s going on exactly, but… can you… can you please help me with my parents?!”

With that last sentence, Morg thrust the frog-filled jar in front of her, clutching it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She looked nervously between the two women in front of her. Sōngbǎi looked at the frogs, then back at Maisha, her expression turning troubled, Maisha’s pensive. Morg’s palms started sweating nervously at the change in demeanor. She set her precious jar down on the table and wiped her clammy hands on her dress.

The parents of witches tended to react one of two ways upon learning about the truth of their children; they would either continue to love them- whether out of fear, denial, or simple true affection could be hard to say- or they would utterly shun them as harbingers of misfortune, wicked mischief-makers, cursed demons, plagues, etc. etc…

Maisha and Songbai had witnessed this pattern time and time again. But of course Morg was unaware of these concerns, knowing only that her parents had turned into frogs and that she loved them, that she wanted to feel their embrace again. She wanted to return to their cozy house on Mulberry Avenue and sit by the fire drinking hot cocoa while her mother read a book and her father smoked his pipe. She wanted this more than anything else.

So as Morg watched the two adults fidget awkwardly in silence, frustration welled up in her chest. Neither of them were even looking at her! Morg’s brow darkened, a scowl settling on her face. She glared at Maisha. Hadn’t Henry promised that she would help? That she had the power? That she was a good witch? A kind witch? What had she come here for otherwise?! Morg clutched her dress in tiny fistfulls, trying to be patient, but she had been patient all night and the wetness gathering in her eyes simply couldn’t be helped.

“Of course,” Maisha suddenly said with a weary smile, “But before that, let me ask you a question.”

Morg’s head shot up hopefully, though a slight frown remained stubbornly on her lips.

“What question…?” the young girl queried in a small voice.

“What do you plan on doing after your parents are human again?”

Now Morg looked utterly confused. The answer was obvious.

“Of course I’ll return back home with them…”

“And what about when you turn them into frogs again? Or worse?”

“I… I won’t turn them into frogs ever again.” Morg replied resolutely, though in her heart, she couldn’t help but doubt herself. Songbai scoffed.

“If you don’t learn how to control your mana, there’s no telling what will happen to the people close to you. Turning them into frogs is a best-case scenario.”

Maisha nodded solemnly in agreement as Morg looked back and forth between the two adults, a restless anxiety building in her chest.

“Th-then how do I learn to control it…?”

As if having been waiting for this question, Maisha clasped her hands together and gleefully responded, “Well, you stay here for a while and train with the two of us, of course!”

“Oh…” Morg stared blankly at the elder witch.

Songbai’s expression twitched at the phrase “the two of us.”

“Well what about my parents? Why did you have to ask me that before turning them human again? They’re my parents! Shouldn’t I hear what they have to say…?”

Xisa sniffed disdainfully. Why would anyone want to hear what their parents have to say?

“Morg…” Songbai started, “Your parents… might not understand. Many witches are misunderstood simply because they are witches. People tend to see our abilities as… unnatural.”

“Then I’ll help them to understand. They’re my parents,” Morg insisted.

“I think what Songbai is trying to say,” Maisha added, “is that your parents might not… might not react to the fact that you turned them into frogs in the way you expect them to.”

How did she expect them to react? Morg hadn’t considered this. She was bound to be in so much trouble! Would she be grounded for a week? Two weeks?! But that didn’t matter. They were her parents! As long as she could get them back…

“That’s okay,” Morg replied honestly, “They’re my parents. Things will go back to normal after a while!” Just as things had always gone back to normal after Morg had gotten into trouble. But the adults’ complicated expressions suggested otherwise. Even Xisa’s face seemed to have taken on an unnatural pallor. Or maybe she had always been that sallow looking… Morg wiped her palms on her dress again, her heart pounding.

“They’re my parents… of course they’ll still love me… even if I turned them into frogs…” Of course they could never hate her, right? But that feeling materialized in her heart again. The feeling of being unwanted. Morg began to doubt herself. Began to doubt that her parents had ever loved her.

Morg fell silent and brought a lock of her golden hair to her mouth, her eyes taking on a distant look as she began to chew on the strands. Xisa watched a quietness descend upon the hut and sipped her tea. Bitterness settled on her tongue, making her want to spit it out like Morg had earlier, but she instead took another sip, feeling parched. Was this kid stupid? Of course her parents wouldn’t love her after she turned them into frogs. Xisa snuck the teacup under her shirt in case Yuzan wanted to try it.

After a moment of stillness, Maisha stood and crossed to the other side of the hut, drawing the eyes of the other three witches seated at the table. When she returned, she set down a pile of blankets and clothes and turned to Morg with an eerie grin.

“Alright!” the wild witch exclaimed, snatching the frog jar off the table. Morg stared up at her, wide-eyed and with strands of hair still caught in her mouth.

“Alright…? Alright what?!”

“Alright it's time to turn your parents back into humans!” Maisha exclaimed, reaching out a hand to gently pat Morg’s shoulder. Morg’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure she wanted this after all! Actually she was certain she couldn’t face them just yet. But… she couldn’t let them stay as frogs either, could she?!

“No, wait!”

“Wait?” Maisha turned to Morg with her eyebrows raised. She stared down at Morg, conflicting emotions spread plainly across the young girl’s face.

“We could just… leave them as frogs for now,” Maisha said softly. Morg’s breath snagged at her words.

“No, no no… we should… turn them back now…”

Maisha nodded curtly, as if she had been expecting such a response.

As Morg attempted to sort out her chaotic thoughts, Maisha opened the jar up, tossing the lid on the table and setting the glass container on the floor. Morg watched, frozen, with wide-eyed anticipation as Maisha stared intently at the slimy amphibians. A draft swept through the hut, making the candles flicker ominously. But after several moments of nothing happening, Maisha turned to Sōngbǎi with a sheepish grin,

“I’ve spent most of my energy on the translation spell, so…”

Sōngbǎi had half a mind to whack Maisha in the head again- the translation spell took a lot of energy, but not enough to render someone helpless, the woman hadn’t tried at all, not even having spoken any incantations, how could she be so shameless! Maisha returned to her seat by Xīsà, looking as if she were about to watch an entertaining show. In the end, Sōngbǎi merely sighed and, positioning herself in front of the jar, flicked her wrist into some strange movements and muttered some strange sounds under her breath. Morg watched attentively as the air filled with dark grey smoke, just as it had before when they turned into frogs.

Despite the chaos in her mind, Morg still adored her parents. So perhaps the last thing she wanted to see when the smoke cleared would be the two frogs remaining as frogs. At least, Morg didn’t see the last thing she wanted to see. However, she certainly did see the second-to-last thing she wanted to see… When the fog cleared, her parents were completely naked!!! Nearly choking on the shock of it, Morg quickly turned away to peer instead at the faces of the table around her. Obviously Maisha and Sōngbǎi were expecting this, but even Xīsà knew to look away!

Morg stared at the clothes folded neatly on the table and realized… how did she not take the hint?!? But then she remembered Sōngbǎi turning into a fully clothed woman before. She felt like she’d been tricked somehow! Morg clamped her hands against her eyes, too afraid to look at anything.

Morg’s confusion quickly vanished, however, replaced by an overwhelming muss of emotions. Elated that her parents were back, safe and human, terrified of what they would say to her or the harsh punishments she might receive for misbehaving… Morg forgot completely about everyone else in the room and anxiously waited for her parents to say something. And after several agonizing seconds of silence, Morg finally heard the voice of her father cut through the silence.

“What… What is the meaning of this?!”

Morg flinched at her father’s harsh tone and peeked at his stern face through her fingers, but to her surprise, the question didn’t seem to be directed at her. Seeing her parents wrapped modestly in Maisha’s clothing and blankets, Morg’s eyes bulged; she had never seen her parents so disheveled! Both of them had frantically messy hair and their faces looked haggard. She thought they even looked a bit… pitiful.

“Morgan,” her father spat out, extending an arm toward her, “come here.” After a moment of blank staring, Morg hopped out of her seat and scurried over to her parents. Morg’s father, Sean Byrne, gently pushed her behind him and scowled at Maisha, who sat with her feet propped up on the table. Morg’s mother, Margaret Byrne, shifted uneasily.

“Why have you brought us here,” Morg’s father asked, not taking his eyes off of Maisha. Maisha rolled her eyes and replied,

“I haven’t brought you anywhere. Morg came looking for me.”

“Lies,” Morg’s father hissed, contempt leaking through his voice, “And her name is Morgan. Not Morg.”

Morg furrowed her brows.

“Papa, she’s not ly-”

“Quiet!” her father berated as he continued to glare at Maisha, “This is not a conversation fit for children.”

Morg slunk back behind him and bowed her head. When she had thought of her parents returning to human form, even if they were mad at her, she had imagined herself running joyfully into their open arms. But this felt…

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“Shouldn’t it be?” Maisha suddenly asked.

“Shouldn’t it be what?” Sean Byrne responded warily.

“Shouldn’t it be a conversation fit for children? Seeing as your child-”

“You shut your mouth! Witches, the lot of you! Unclean! Unholy! Playing ghastly tricks on my family, luring us here for some sort of… ritual, I’m sure.”

“Th-that’s enough dear…” came Margeret Byrne’s shaking voice. Morg watched her mother as she rested a trembling hand on her father’s forearm, hazel eyes flitting back and forth between the other women in the room. When her eyes caught hold of Morg’s, she started. Morg rubbed her face and straightened out her hair, worried that something awry with her appearance had made her mother react strangely.

“That’s right,” Maisha hummed, her bright grin rendered eerie in the flickering candlelight. “We’re witches. Me, Songbai, this… little gargoyle,” Maisha hesitated when she gestured at Xisa, the efficacy of her rhetoric disrupted by her not knowing the child’s name. Though after only a slight pause, she recovered and the curved finger that had pointed at each witch in turn now settled on the young girl standing obediently behind her father, “And Morg.”

Morg’s mother flinched at every mention of the word ‘witch,’ and when Maisha pointed at the child beside her, Margaret Byrne let out a small cry, her lips quivering. After a moment of dead silence, Margaret’s timid voice addressed Morg.

“That’s… That’s great, Morgan! A witch in the family! I am… I am s-so proud!” Margaret tried, forcing a smile onto her thin lips. Morg stared at her mother. She wanted to feel proud, but the trembling expression of her mother only filled her with apprehension.

“What are you saying, woman?! You can’t just believe everything other people tell you! If they could turn us back into humans, they certainly could have been the ones to turn us to frogs. And just look at them- how could you trust people like this?”

Morg felt thoroughly confused. Why did her father continue to deny the truth? Why was he angry at the people who had helped them? And…

“People… like what?”

“Like this,” her father said, gesturing at both Maisha and Songbai as if that proved his point entirely, “Like this!”

Morg squinted at the two witches who had helped and guided her throughout the evening, trying to figure out her father’s strange way of speaking.

“They might not even be witches for all we know. What credible thing have they done? They could have drugged all of us, or… or hypnotized us,” Sean continued, his voice lowered to a whisper. Margaret nodded slowly in agreement, as if his words made perfect sense. She actually looked relieved at such prospects. Morg shook her head in disbelief.

“But you were both frogs and I am the one who turned you!” Morg half-shouted in frustration. “And I think I’ve accidentally done other things before, too! I think I’m the reason the house flooded last year! I don’t think it was some sign from the heavens- I think it was me! And remember the time all the glass in the house shattered and it took months before we finally finished picking up all the pieces?”

Songbai choked on her tea. How were these three still alive?!

“Papa, Mama, I… I really didn’t mean to turn you into frogs, I promise!” Morg cried desperately as she looked up at her parents. “I-I guess I just lost control, but I promise I won’t let it happen again! The lady here said she would teach me!” Morg explained, gesturing at Maisha. Maisha grinned and waved cheekily, the action sending a shiver up Margaret Byrne’s spine. Morg continued, “What if I turn you into frogs again?! What will I do then? Or if I do something else? Please let me stay here to learn from her. I don’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”

After her earnest speech, her mother actually seemed amenable to the idea.

“Well… we had mentioned boarding school,” Margaret mused with a still trembling voice. “This could… this could be a great opportun-”

“Enough!” Sean Byrne shouted menacingly. Margaret shut up. “My daughter is not a witch!! And beyond that, I would never allow my daughter to become the student of a ni-”

At Sean Byrne’s abrupt silence, Morg looked up at her father’s shocked face, his lips tightly clasped together.

“Mmph? Mmph!? MMMPH!!!” His mouth had been sealed shut! The man could only make indiscernible angry mumbles!

After having made a short series of hand motions, Sōngbǎi folded her arms and smirked cruelly, her eyes dark. Maisha, who sat leaning back in her chair, raised an eyebrow as the man’s anger became more and more animated. Then, glancing up at Sōngbǎi’s livid demeanor, raised her other eyebrow so that her brows goofily switched positions. Being the only one to witness this, Xīsà couldn’t help but giggle. But when several pairs of eyes all fell on her, the small sound stopped abruptly. Xīsà sipped her tea, looking more like she was trying to hide behind the little cup rather than drink from it.

“It’s not up to you whether or not Morg stays here with us. It’s entirely up to her.” Sōngbǎi stated almost threateningly.

With anger boiling over, Sean Byrne made to cross the room to where Maisha and Songbai sat, looking very much like he wanted to punch the life out of both of them. But with a mere twitch of Songbai’s fingers, he stopped in his tracks, frozen in place.

Morg stared at her father. She knew that he loved her. And she loved him as well even after having faced this irritable, angry side of him many times in the past. She had figured him to be the most powerful man in the world, believing in every word he said, wanting to mimic every action he took. But after tonight, having seen him deny the truth again and again, having seen him powerless in front of these two women, she felt her worldview shift, just a touch.

Why was it that her father refused to believe the obvious? Would he love her less if she were a witch? Would he treat her as he treated Maisha and Songbai? As untrustworthy villains?

With a sigh, Morg stepped towards her mother, feeling exhausted and confused, wanting advice, wanting a hug, but her mother stepped back, a frantic look in her eyes. When it came to others’ emotions, sometimes Morg was oblivious. Sometimes those subtle social cues went right over her head.

And sometimes she knew exactly what they were feeling.

As Morg watched her mother, that feeling of being unwanted pricked her heart and she felt her eyes grow moist again. Frustration, anger, confusion all surged in her chest. Couldn’t her mother see that she was trying her best? That she hadn’t meant to do anything wrong? And as if Margaret Byrne knew exactly what she was thinking, the witch’s mother took a step forward and spread her arms wide.

“Oh… Morgan, my… darling. Come here, come get a hug.”

Morg took a hopeful step forward, wanting to run to her mother’s embrace, wanting that more than ever. But her mother’s hands were trembling, her whole body flinching with each step Morg took. She had hugged her mother so many times before. So why, right now, did it feel so… different? Maybe her parents really had wanted her before. But now…

Her mother retreated another couple of steps away from Morg, perhaps without even realizing it.

A roaring sound grew in Morg’s ears and her mind went blank, filled only with static. She was really unwanted? Really and truly? She could still go home, right? She would learn to be better and good and prove to her parents that being a witch was really a good thing, that it meant she could protect them. She could do that… right?

As her mind whirled with these notions, she felt a pair of arms embrace her from behind. Without a second thought, Morg flipped her own body around and buried her face in Maisha’s shoulder, sobbing. Coarse hair tickled her face and the smell of wood smoke and patchouli made her already stuffy nose itch. Maisha lifted the snotty child and patted her back comfortingly.

“You always have a place here, Morg.”

Morg sniffled, wanting to reply, but not sure what to say. She laid her head back down on Maisha’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Surely it had all been a dream. Maybe this time, this time for sure, when she awoke… things would be… normal again.

*

Xisa looked on with envy as Maisha hugged and coaxed Morg, even going so far as to tuck the sleeping kid into the bed by the window… Xisa’s bed. If she had a dramatic outburst like Morg seemed prone to, would she also get to be hugged and comforted?

Just then, Xisa’s stomach let out a low growl. Embarrassed, she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, but no one was paying attention to her. Maisha was busy tucking in Morg and Songbai was glaring at the Byrne parents who stood stiffly in front of them, one frozen with magic and one frozen with fright.

“Couldn’t we have waited to turn them human when they were already back in their home?” Songbai suddenly asked grumpily, “Would’ve made our lives a whole hell of a lot easier.”

Maisha sauntered lazily across the room before answering.

“We could have.”

When Maisha made no indication of elaborating, Songbai rolled her eyes and whipped out her folding fan to fan herself leisurely. When she spoke, her voice held an air of mockery.

“What, some sort of fate magic? Had to act out the play here to set a stage for later?”

Maisha smiled softly but didn’t bother explaining herself. Rubbing a thumb across the tarot deck in her pocket, she instead said,

“The girl’s parents-”

“You want me to escort them back to their home? Sure. But I’m not done-”

“mmmMMPPPHH! MMMNOT BE LEAVING WITHOUT OUR DAUGHTER!!”

“C-calm down, dear, perhaps this is for the best…” Margaret Byrne reached out a hand to pat her husband, who had angrily broken his way out of the silencing spell. Sean Byrne, however, slapped her hand away, his eyes bloodshot.

“YOU-”

With the flick of her wrist, Songbai silenced the unruly man again before continuing her sentence.

“I’m not done with this conversation, Maisha. Bringing these girls here, mutual benefits or however else you want to sugar-coat it- I know you’re plotting something. ” And with that, Songbai scooped up Morg’s frightened mother and still-protesting father and left.

As soon as Sōngbǎi and the Byrne parents disappeared, Maisha exhaled a long sigh. With a wave of her hand, two bowls of rice floated over to Maisha and Xisa, who once again sat together at the table.

“Eat slowly or you’ll hurt yourself,” she said, handing Xīsà a spoon. “There’s an outhouse around back if you need to go. I’m going to stop sustaining the translation spell now, is there anything you need before I do?”

Xīsà, shoveling the rice into her mouth, remained silent.

“If there’s anything you need, just say something and I’ll figure it out. Or you can ask Songbai when she gets back,” Maisha said. She made a couple of hand motions, then smiled at Xīsà. They sat in silence for a while, Xīsà making a valiant effort to slow down her pace of eating. Maisha sat forward, resting her head in her hands and staring off into space.

Noticing that Maisha hadn’t touched her bowl of rice, Xisa found herself wondering if she could eat it herself when suddenly-

THUNK!

Maisha’s head landed heavily upon the table, glancing the bowl of rice and causing the white grains to spill everywhere in the process.

Xīsà stared, momentarily stunned, then hurriedly steadied the bowl and scooped the spilled rice back in. Bits of the sticky grains decorated Maisha’s forehead.

After a pause, Xisa poked Maisha’s rosy brown cheek. No response. She shoved a handful of rice into her mouth before shaking Maisha’s shoulder. Maisha groaned a little, but instead of waking up, began sliding out of her chair! Xīsà hopped up and scurried to Maisha’s other side, pushing the witch more upright, but this only caused her to start careening the other way! This wouldn’t do at all! Xīsà scuttled around to the back of the chair and leaned it back so that it was only resting on its back two legs. Then she haphazardly dragged the chair across the room, hoping to reach the bed without Maisha toppling onto the floor- she’d fit in the bed with Morg, right? Unfortunately she didn’t quite make it, not because Maisha fell off the chair, but because Xīsà tripped, the two of them toppling to the floor in a mess of limbs. After untangling herself, Xīsà tried lifting the lady by her armpits so she wouldn’t have to stay on the cold floor, but it was no use. Even if she wasn’t in this skin-and-bones state, Xīsà was still only a little girl, whereas Maisha was a grown woman.

Xīsà frowned. She went back to the table, gingerly setting Yùzān in Maisha’s bowl, in case he wanted some rice. She wasn’t really sure what to do with herself now. She walked back to where Maisha lay crumpled on the floor and tried shaking her awake again, then walked back to the table and sat down in her chair, then got up and walked back to Maisha and sat down on the floor next to her. Yùzān hopped out of the rice bowl and settled in Xīsà’s lap. The scrawny girl absent-mindedly picked off the rice stuck to Yùzān’s sticky feet, wondering when Sōngbǎi would get back.

*

Having finally gotten rid of the troublesome Byrnes, Songbai made her way back to Maisha’s hut, intending to continue their conversation. However, when she tried opening the door to the house, the door would only open a few inches before getting stuck… Sōngbǎi pushed the creaking door open a few more inches with much difficulty, just enough for her to slip through. She was not expecting the object blocking the door to be Maisha herself! Maisha lay sprawled on her side with Xīsà leaning against her back, also passed out. On top of Xīsà’s head sat her frog familiar.

It seemed her conversation with Maisha would have to wait.

Picking up Xisa, Songbai carried the little witch to the same bed Morg still soundly slept in- the only bed in the hut- and tossed some blankets over her. Looking at the two girls side-by-side, Songbai’s expression darkened slightly. While Morg’s round face held a healthy glow, Xisa looked washed out and gaunt, her wrists and elbows overly bony, almost frail. Of course Songbai knew of the famines plaguing certain regions of Northern China. And although she found it sad, like many other witches, Songbai tended not to get involved with the affairs of humans. But seeing the effects of such a disaster up close… Songbai sighed.

Stealing a pillow off the bed, Songbai returned for Maisha. After a moment of thought, she decided to move her onto the maroon rug situated in front of the fireplace, hoping it would at least offer slightly better cushioning than the wooden floors.

The difference between a malnourished little child and a healthy, fully grown woman, however, was astounding. Although Songbai still lifted Maisha easily, her movements were somewhat clumsy as she stumbled her way over to the fireplace. Thus it was no surprise when Maisha woke up momentarily… Though Sōngbǎi did not expect her to fall back asleep almost immediately!

Upon finally settling the woman on the soft rug and placing a pillow under her head, Songbai sat herself down beside her old friend. With two fingers, she felt beneath Maisha’s jawline for her pulse, then felt her forehead with the back of her hand. Nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary. She studied the unconscious witch. Sure the translation spell took a lot of energy, but not enough to exhaust someone to this extent. She frowned. This idiot witch was hiding something.

But with no idea what that something was, or how to possibly help, Songbai stood up and left the house.