bright blue eyes greeted them, reaching out a flour-covered hand to gesture them inside. Her name was Oculura and she carried a large wooden batter-filled bowl. She was stirring her wooden spoon with so much energy that the batter sloshed over the sides, splattering her clothes, the walls, and the floor. “Come in, come in and make yourselves comfortable,” said Oculura. “Dyspepsia, clear off that bench so our guests can sit down.”
“Don’t you tell me what to do!” said an even older white-haired woman as she swept a pile of clean clothes off the bench and into her arms. Scowling at her sister, she stomped across the room and kicked the wall. The fireplace slid back, making a grinding sound and revealing another room beyond it.
“But that’s an outside wall,” Audun murmured into Millie’s ear. “That’s not possible.”
The room they were standing in seemed bigger than she remembered it, and she thought the way the fireplace moved was definitely new. “They’re witches,” whispered Millie. “Anything is possible for them, which is why we came.” In a louder voice, she said to Dyspepsia, “We need to talk to you.”
“I’m busy,” said the old woman. “Talk to Miss Bossy over there.” Grumbling to herself, Dyspepsia flung the clothes through the doorway and kicked the wall again. “I’ll deal with them later,” she said as the fireplace swung back. Millie had to jump out of the way when the witch grabbed a broom and began to beat the floor with it, sending up thick clouds of dust.
“We need your help,” Millie said, crossing the room to where Oculura was dumping batter into a pan.
“Dyspepsia, mind that dust!” shouted Oculura. “If you keep that up, there will be more dust than flour in this cake!”
“That would be an improvement,” Dyspepsia replied.
“I can’t talk to you now,” Oculura told Millie. She scuttled across the room, moving a pan of cooling tarts from a table to the windowsill. “We couldn’t sleep last night, what with that storm booming and banging, so I tried something new and made us all cups of sleep-tight tea. It worked very well because we slept like logs—”
“We slept like the dead,” said Dyspepsia. “The house could have collapsed around our ears and we wouldn’t have noticed. I told her this morning that that wasn’t a good thing, but does she ever listen to me?”
“There’s only one problem with sleep-tight tea,” Oculura continued. “When you finally do wake up—”
“We slept hours past our usual get-up time,” declared Dyspepsia, emphasizing each word with a thwack of the broom at whatever object was closest. Audun hopped out of the way when she turned in his direction.
“When you finally do wake up,” Oculura repeated, “you have so much energy that you can’t sit still. Azuria went outside to catch blue butterflies for a potion she invented, and I decided to cook. Dyspepsia said she’s going to clean, but all she’s done is make a bigger mess than before.”
“That’s not true!” snapped her sister. “This place hasn’t looked this good in years!”
“The extra energy isn’t supposed to last long,” said Oculura. “No more than an hour or two.”
“Don’t listen to her. It’s been two hours and forty-seven minutes since I woke up.” Dyspepsia jabbed the broom at an hourglass filled with sand, knocking it onto the floor so that it shattered, spilling sand across Millie’s shoes.
Oculura began to crack eggs into a bowl. “Normally, I’d use magic for this, but I have to use all this energy somehow. You’ll have to stay for supper. I’ve already made too much food for just the three of us.”
“Actually,” said Millie as she tried to get out of Dyspepsia’s way when the old woman began to attack the spilled sand with a broom. “We’re in a hurry, so—”
The door behind her creaked open and Azuria shuffled in carrying a woven basket with a wooden lid. She dragged her feet as she crossed the
“Don’t you tell me what to do!” said an even older white-haired woman as she swept a pile of clean clothes off the bench and into her arms. Scowling at her sister, she stomped across the room and kicked the wall. The fireplace slid back, making a grinding sound and revealing another room beyond it.
“But that’s an outside wall,” Audun murmured into Millie’s ear. “That’s not possible.”
The room they were standing in seemed bigger than she remembered it, and she thought the way the fireplace moved was definitely new. “They’re witches,” whispered Millie. “Anything is possible for them, which is why we came.” In a louder voice, she said to Dyspepsia, “We need to talk to you.”
“I’m busy,” said the old woman. “Talk to Miss Bossy over there.” Grumbling to herself, Dyspepsia flung the clothes through the doorway and kicked the wall again. “I’ll deal with them later,” she said as the fireplace swung back. Millie had to jump out of the way when the witch grabbed a broom and began to beat the floor with it, sending up thick clouds of dust.
“We need your help,” Millie said, crossing the room to where Oculura was dumping batter into a pan.
“Dyspepsia, mind that dust!” shouted Oculura. “If you keep that up, there will be more dust than flour in this cake!”
“That would be an improvement,” Dyspepsia replied.
“I can’t talk to you now,” Oculura told Millie. She scuttled across the room, moving a pan of cooling tarts from a table to the windowsill. “We couldn’t sleep last night, what with that storm booming and banging, so I tried something new and made us all cups of sleep-tight tea. It worked very well because we slept like logs—”
“We slept like the dead,” said Dyspepsia. “The house could have collapsed around our ears and we wouldn’t have noticed. I told her this morning that that wasn’t a good thing, but does she ever listen to me?”
“There’s only one problem with sleep-tight tea,” Oculura continued. “When you finally do wake up—”
“We slept hours past our usual get-up time,” declared Dyspepsia, emphasizing each word with a thwack of the broom at whatever object was closest. Audun hopped out of the way when she turned in his direction.
“When you finally do wake up,” Oculura repeated, “you have so much energy that you can’t sit still. Azuria went outside to catch blue butterflies for a potion she invented, and I decided to cook. Dyspepsia said she’s going to clean, but all she’s done is make a bigger mess than before.”
“That’s not true!” snapped her sister. “This place hasn’t looked this good in years!”
“The extra energy isn’t supposed to last long,” said Oculura. “No more than an hour or two.”
“Don’t listen to her. It’s been two hours and forty-seven minutes since I woke up.” Dyspepsia jabbed the broom at an hourglass filled with sand, knocking it onto the floor so that it shattered, spilling sand across Millie’s shoes.
Oculura began to crack eggs into a bowl. “Normally, I’d use magic for this, but I have to use all this energy somehow. You’ll have to stay for supper. I’ve already made too much food for just the three of us.”
“Actually,” said Millie as she tried to get out of Dyspepsia’s way when the old woman began to attack the spilled sand with a broom. “We’re in a hurry, so—”
The door behind her creaked open and Azuria shuffled in carrying a woven basket with a wooden lid. She dragged her feet as she crossed the
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