The Witch's Market by Mingmei Yip

to turn dark. I guessed the driver had already left, if he’d even had any intention of coming back for me. Anyway, I could not pull myself away from the sight of these strange women.
    Now the four women stood in a circle, closed their eyes, and seemed to meditate. They intoned a strange song. Next they dipped twigs into jars of water and sprinkled it in the air. Then, holding hands and raising them heavenward, they began to dance. As they circled the cloth, their breasts swayed, waists twisted, and legs kicked suggestively. After a few minutes they paused, swept the ground with small brooms, and lifted the bells to resume their rhythmic dance.
    Ending their ritual, they hugged, kissed, and downed some dark liquid, either wine or some homemade concoction.
    Then, suddenly, Cecily spit fire from her mouth!
    â€œOh my!” I blurted out.
    The women all turned toward me. Instead of looking surprised at the intrusion, they smiled.
    â€œHey, señorita, welcome to the circle of witches!” Cecily said.
    I stepped away from the tree I was partially hidden behind and approached them cautiously.
    â€œYou’re the Asian witch we met at the carnival. What are you doing here?”
    As if in a trance, I told them my name and that I was Chinese, though lived in America.
    Cecily extended a long-nailed hand. “Come, Eileen, let’s dance, chant, and drink to celebrate life!”
    Before I knew what was happening, they had come up to me and swiftly pulled off my top, sneakers, and jeans. They then dragged me into their circle. Next they picked up their twigs to flick water onto me. I found myself drinking their strange concoction and joining them in dancing and chanting. Though I had no idea what the chant meant, it was pleasing to my ears. I felt myself gradually slipping into another universe....
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    When I woke up the next morning the sun was filtering through lace curtains. I shaded my forehead and looked around me. A plain, fortyish, and slightly plump woman sat by the bed, reading a newspaper. I lifted my head from the pillow.
    Before I could saying anything, she yelled, “Qué bueno!” and dashed away.
    Seconds later, she hurried back. Accompanying her was a robust, broad-shouldered, fiftyish man with a rugged face, a straight, high nose, and intense eyes. Before I could say anything he spoke to me in accented English.
    â€œSeñorita, I’m glad that you’re awake. Welcome to Heartbreak Castle.”
    Heartbreak Castle. Why would someone give his residence such an unlucky name? Anyway, wasn’t it called the Maiden Fortress?
    â€œSeñor, who are you? I don’t know where I am. Have we met?” I said in Spanish.
    I realized I’d spoken abruptly, and that I was an uninvited guest, or intruder, in this man’s place. But he looked delighted.
    â€œQué bueno, usted habla Spanish!” Good, you speak Spanish.
    I smiled and apologized for my rudeness.
    He smiled back. His teeth were neat and white, contrasting nicely with his tanned skin.
    â€œSeñorita, my housekeeper, Maria, found you some distance from my castle, by the pond. You were so drunk that you could hardly walk, so she came back to get me and I carried you here. Are you feeling okay?”
    I took stock of myself. I didn’t feel great, but everything was intact, so I replied, “I have a headache, but otherwise I’m fine, Señor. . . .”
    â€œAlfredo Alfrenso. And you are?”
    â€œEileen Chen, I’m from San Francisco.” He was being polite, but I suddenly felt embarrassed. “Señor Alfrenso, I’ve already troubled you and Maria for the whole night, so I think I should be on my way.” I tried to sit up but felt a wave of dizziness.
    I remembered that the witches had taken off my clothes before I danced with them and I was suddenly mortified. Was I still naked? I lifted the bedsheet and was relieved to see my body in a loose gown. I hoped it was Maria