A Thief In The Garden

A Thief In The Garden
The wind moved through the twisted, gnarled boughs overhead, bringing to life a haunting melody of errant creaks and sighing moans. It was the song of the Forest, heard only here where the branches knotted and woven amongst each other, bare of any leaves, but so overgrown that only the watery light of the low harvest moon ever filtered through. The shadows they cast looked like grasping claws and hideous beasts, but the music of the wind through them was considered one of the draws of the Spooky Forest. Frightening, yes, but beautiful at the same time. And if that beauty held a bit of fear, well, all the better for those who visited at the turning of the season.

On the ground, the wind stirred a much less dramatic patch of anise. It was this, and not the music of the wild branches above, that held Jamie's attention. The plant stood tall and straight in the forest of twisted plants. The green leaves and white flowers reflected in broken glass behind it, doubling the image back and taunting her, a reminder that she needed only a few more sprigs.

Honestly, Jamie didn't even like anise. The licorice scent was cloying to her and the flowers weren't even all that pretty. But a strange horse had given her a recipe for a potion that called for an atrocious amount of the stuff. Not that Jamie much liked the horse either, with its hungry look and haunting voice, but the potion definitely interested her, with its promises of curing all kinds of problems and giving a handsome boost in energy as well. If she didn't use it herself, she could certainly make a tidy sum selling it. Provided she could get the last few sprigs of anise, of course.

The wind hit the plant again, making ruffly green leaves tremble and the little white flowers shaking from side to side, as if to say no, no, don't come closer. She was tempted to listen, because she would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, this was the only place where the weed still bloomed this time of year.

Jamie licked her lips and glanced at the green black darkness beyond the glass. She swore she had seen someone in there, when she last crept near the building to take a different plant. That was ridiculous, of course, she scolded herself. Nobody lived in an abandoned greenhouse in the Spooky Forest, there were so many better places to live. But people said that a witch lived in the greenhouse and Jamie had to admit, the garden was awfully well tended to be completely wild...

"Don't be ridiculous," she hissed to herself. The anise was just a weed growing wild in the middle of a tourist trap. There was nothing to fear in the Spooky Forest. At least that's what she's always heard. The prickling on the back of her neck told herself something else.

Her instincts told her to wait, to go dig in the fallen leaves for a few pumpkins and come back later. The plant would still be there. It wasn't like it could grow legs and walk away.

But Jamie was tired of waiting. She wanted the potion, right now.

She broke cover and darted for the greenhouse, pelting across the open stretch of carefully tended grass. Nothing leaped out at her. The anise didn't go anywhere. In fact, nothing happened except she ran out of breath and the wind kept moaning in the trees above.

Jamie straightened, feeling quite silly about the whole affair. She even let herself laugh a little. "Just a stupid plant," she said out loud, reaching for the anise.

"Actually," a voice dry and brittle as the fallen autumn leaves said, "Anise is a very useful plant. It's good for the stomach, better for the breath, and can help open the inner eye when its closed. Not that it did you much use, I'm afraid."

She should have shrieked. Jumped and spun. Bolted for the woods. Or at least blinked. But Jamie found that she could not move at all, not even an eyelash. She was frozen, her hand still extended towards the tall, green plant.

An old woman came shuffling out of the darkened building. She moved slowly, stepping carefully over broken glass and avoiding stepping on young plants that grew at her feet. Her hair was a tangle that put the branches overhead to shame and she wore a half dozen lacy shawls in three or four colors. And, as if there was any doubt at all, she held a broom in one hand.

The witch stopped in front of Jamie and looked her up and down. Her eyes glinted coldly in the dim light of the forest, but the witch seemed to see everything about Jamie with no trouble at all. "Getting greedy, are we? Thought you'd strip my poor garden down to the bones, did you?"

Jamie tried, desperately, to protest that she was doing no such thing, that this was surely a huge mistake and that she would even pay the witch for what she'd taken, if that would help. But she could not move, no matter how hard she tried.

"Well, that's alright," the witch said with a final nod. Jamie felt her heart lift. "We need more plants for next year, after all."

The words made no sense to Jamie, still she couldn't move. The witch turned away from her and began to shuffle back inside. Desperately, Jamie tried to reach her, but the witch seemed to be moving away very fast and growing taller as she did. Or maybe, Jamie realized, she was the one who was the one shrinking, dwindling, not the witch. She glimpsed her outstretched hand, now looking like it was reaching after the witch instead of towards the plant beside her. But there was something wrong with her fingers. They were becoming thin and green. Her head felt light, her hair soft like tiny flower petals on her skin. She felt earth around her feet. Or were they feet at all?

And then even that awareness faded, until there was only water and earth and the faint sun that filtered in.

A pair of anise stood, green and ruffly, by the jagged edges of the broken greenhouse. The wind blew overhead, making the branches creak and sigh, before dipping down to make the white flowers shake back and forth as if to say 'no no no.'

And that is why you don't steal from witches.