Double, Double

Double, Double

by Hannah Blume (as Alicorn)

“There’s something I have to tell you… I really should have told you before,” she said, wringing her hands. “It’s… it’s about the baby.”

“What about her?” he asked.

“Well - well, when I was a girl -”

This was backwards. Completely backwards. Forget dramatic timing. I opened the door and swept in.

“Witch!” the father exclaimed.

“…That’s not my witch,” said the mother.

“You had a witch, too? I had to promise her -” he said, pointing at me, “the baby - darling, I didn’t realize she’d collect, I didn’t think she could possibly really want the baby, I thought she was trying to frighten me -”

“But - but I had a witch - a different witch -”

“Oh, both of you shut up,” I growled. “Yes, I’m actually collecting, what would I have let you get away with my singing roses for if you had nothing I wanted? I could have kept you for a pet or a statue, and instead I’m taking the child. The other witch has apparently declined to appear -”

“I most certainly have not!” exclaimed a fourth voice behind me. “Goodness, this is a mess, isn’t it? D’you suppose that you could just relinquish your claim - after all, surely the mother’s right is stronger than the father’s, what with the three quarters of a year involved in the baby-making and such - I’ll trade you a singing rosebush if that’s what your business is about? I haven’t got one but I know a -”

“Oh, nightshade,” I hissed. “I don’t want another rosebush, I have enough rosebushes at this time, the man stole a few cuttings years ago. I want the baby.”

“Well, so do I, and I’ve been promised it just the same if not better. Is it a boy or a girl, dear?” the newcomer asked the mother.

“…Girl,” whimpered the mother.

“Well, the little munchkin is clearly not staying here, whatever she’s doing,” the other witch said. She was younger than me, by at least a few years, no gray in her dark gold hair, dressed scarcely more like a witch than a milkmaid in dusty rose, no hat, no robes over the dress. She made a preposterous figure and I would have said she was no witch at all if the mother of the child didn’t seem to recognize her. “We’ll go figure this out somewhere besides your front hall, shall we? And you can get on with having another one without quite such a mess of owings on it.”

“If you’d settle for the secondborn,” I suggested.

“No, no, it’d never work,” said the other witch. “Letting alone the possibility that they never want to repeat the process! You’re more than welcome to wait -”

“Look here, I made my deal when the boy was twelve, I certainly have prior claim, she’s got to be five years younger than he is -”

“And she’s the one who carried the babe, isn’t she, it’s hardly my fault that this boy paid more than ten minutes’ attention to her and you were able to track them down!”