from the cave were still aching.
The rain continued to fall. Fiona discerned threads of pearls in the streams, put her palm up and was surprised to catch not hail, but real pearls.
«Throw them away at once!» Rokuela demanded. «The watermen will be furious if you do not. These pearls are only for their brides. The one who keeps them will be hauled to the bottom.»
Fiona obediently unclenched her palm, tossing the pearls away. They did not fall, but dissolved into the rain.
Unusual blue birds with luxurious tails peeked out of the waves and landed on a pile of bones.
«They’re sea-birds, morrilla,» Rokuela explained. «They usually fly only in the open sea. If they land on a kingdom, it won’t be long before it sinks.»
«I hope they fly to Sultanit!» Fiona quipped, but the proud Morillas were not going there. Their feathers were gleaming with real blue precious stones. One of those birds would be worth a chest full of jewels. Fiona opened her mouth in wonder.
«Don’t you dare catch them! The Water King will be furious!» Rokuela warned her.
«I don’t!»
«It’s not beauty that makes them so useful, it’s their strength. They ward off the spirits of rain and wind, so one of them always flies with me.»
Rokuela walked to the lodge. Bridges of skulls led to it on many sides, which made the house look like a huge spider, hanging over the sea on its own legs-bridges. On one side was a harmless bridge of shells. It was less intimidating, so Fiona chose it. But here, too, she stumbled upon a mermaid skeleton stuck like an ornament in a railing of shells.
«What’s the matter with you?» Rokuela wondered. «Have you never seen a live mermaid?»
«I’ve never even seen a dead one before,» Fiona mesmerized, running her finger over the mermaid’s bones and stabbing at the sharp incisions. There were no such notches on human ribs. She’d seen human skeletons in abandoned crypts and cemeteries. Morgen’s skeletons were very different from them. For example, the skull boxes, curled up to the shell-shaped ear area, were definitely those of a sea-dweller.
«And I like to kill them or use them for magic,» Rokuela boasted.
«Won’t the Sea King punish you for what you did to them?»
«The Sea King and I have a special arrangement! He doesn’t touch me, and I don’t touch him. But there was a time of war between me and him…»
The mermaid skeleton suddenly came to life and grinned. Fiona cried out. She had no idea that the hedge was alive. The skeletons it was made of seemed dead.
«So you enchanted the morgens and the mermaids?»
«They are only the ones who attacked me first.»
«I thought you killed them.»
«You can’t kill them completely. They’re immortal.»
«Are you?»
Rokuela looked like an immortal creature. She may have looked young, but her gray hair and the ancient wisdom in her eyes made her seem like a very old woman.
«It’s a very touchy subject,» she brushed her cheekily aside. «You know you’re not supposed to ask a woman her age or her mortality.»
Surely there are many witches who want to be immortal, and that might offend them. Take Ornella, for example. Ask her if she’s mortal and you’ll get a harsh rebuke and a tantrum. Many arrogant women would like to consider them exclusively immortal fairies.
Inside the witch’s cottage was even more intimidating. Here were prepared potions of dubious ingredients, hung bundles of black herbs, in bottles instead of models of ships were sharpened rainbow and miniature storm. It’s magic! Fiona went to the window to touch a garland of dried starfish. Immediately a flock of aggressive rain spirits ogled at her from the shroud of rain. They hovered over the bridges. Each one was no bigger than a cat, but they had the fury of a lion. One spirit tried to grab hold of Fiona’s arm and douse her in salt water.
«Close all the windows!» Rokuela’s shrill command drew the shutters shut abruptly, but they shut on her command as if the house were a living organism over which the Sea Witch could have no control.
«And don’t look out, or the rain spirits will find a way to get in and tear you to pieces!»
«But why is it?» Fiona wondered. What had she done to them?
«You’re a redhead!» She pointed to her disheveled curls as if that explained everything.
«And you’re against redheads, too, like Ornella, because all redheads are witches, etc., etc.»
You’d think rain spirits weren’t witchy creatures themselves!
«It’s not about the legend of the red-haired punisher! The strands of your hair are like real fire in color. And the rain spirits hate anything fiery and are bent on destroying it.»
That’s right! She remembered how fiercely they attacked the fire spirits, and they were afraid of them. The rain spirits do have the power to defeat fire.
«And what is the tale of the red-haired punisher? I’ve never heard of such a thing!» Fiona looked at the fireplace, somehow full of water and covered by a glass screen. Inside it, as if it were an aquarium, some horrible sea creature languished. A veritable monster! In the various vials on the shelves were also imprisoned water creatures: jellyfish, stingrays, octopuses, and many unimaginable creatures whose names Fiona did not know. In one vial were shimmering real stars, as if Rokuela had managed to pull them down from the heavens.
Fiona tried to uncork the bottle, but the mistress of the lodge stopped her.
«Don’t dare!»
«What’s inside? Are they stars?»
«Have you ever heard the stories about the people who let the genies out and paid for their curiosity!»
Fiona didn’t want to be lectured, so she obediently put the vial back.
«You can spend the night here!» Rokuela threw a blanket over the narrow thatch bunk. «I have business to run tonight, so I won’t be constrained by you. But don’t touch anything while I’m gone, or there’ll be more repercussions later than from the war. The power imprisoned in the vials is dangerous.»
«I see!» Fiona made a vow not to touch anything here again. She didn’t want to get hurt or unleash a water demon at all.
«We’ll talk a little while before the rain stops,» the landlady pointed to the chairs and table made from shells. The screen beside them was also covered in shells, like bas-reliefs.
«You could make it rain, but you couldn’t make it stop?» Fiona guessed, taking a seat on the rickety shell stool.
«You can’t do everything at once. One magic on top of another is too much,» said Rockwell admonishingly. «If you knew more about magic, you’d understand.»
«But
