Page 67 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)

THE LITTLE WITCHY HOUSE

T he air in the South was clearly warmer and most of the trees there still remained leafy and green as if shrouded in magic.

No sign of the winter or the late fall, no snow or frost on the grass and windows.

The weather felt like early spring – a light soft breeze.

The forest attracted with its vividness and denseness, such a contrast compared to the Forest of Somber Eyes with its eerie stifling air and ominous fog.

Instead of silence it was filled with rustling leaves, natural sounds of animals and crickets’ songs.

It looked so welcoming and cozy, that even the North Forest felt completely hostile in comparison.

Layers of different scents intermingled in the air, creating a fresh earthy smell.

Slightly damp ground had been covered in green grass, moss and twigs.

Warm light from a little town near was slipping through the tree trunks as Violette and Dante were making their way out of the woods.

Their steps led them to a small house covered in moss. Violette abruptly stopped looking at the house, more struck than curious.

“What? Never saw a witch's house?” Dante tossed her a look over the shoulder.

He was indeed right, she'd never seen such a house before, only read about it in the tales. A small house in the corner of a small town .

The roof was covered with green moss, a swirl of pink smoke emitting in the air from the chimney. A stone path overgrown with grass was leading to the house, white anemone hung above the wooden door.

There was a little garden decorated with pumpkins and blue fly agaric mushrooms with a well maintained pond nearby. A warm inviting light was pouring from the round window, beckoning the travelers to come closer.

Violette’s eyes slid over a dark brown sign dug into the ground with the name 'Blue Pot', following with a list of what it was selling.

The old door creaked, letting little silver bells with orange ribbons above announce their arrival.

Inside, the house was no less mysterious and truly magical; Smoke coming from the many bottles was tracing the air.

A boiling whistle was heard somewhere from the second floor.

Jars glowed in different colors – pink, green, blue, iridescent in the light.

Various herbs hung from the ceiling on thin ropes, swaying from side to side as if enchanted with silent music.

A black cat was resting at the window, waving its tail. Something white and furry was snoring below, but it hardly resembled an animal, rather something from a magical forest.

Vibrant colors filled this place – it looked chaotic but at the same time unbelievably enchanting and cozy. The sight took Violette's breath away, leaving her completely speechless.

In the corner stood several brooms with crooked trunks, tied with silk ribbons.

Next to them, several shabby dark robes.

A large purple witch's hat hung on the hook – Violette wondered if it was part of the store's design or if it was what a real witch's house looked like.

Not like her, not wizardling but exactly a witch who had been living near a forest like in old fairytales, and brewing potions from herbs.

Witches were not as common as wizards or sorcerers where she grew up.

She had only met a few of them who frequented her shop, but they looked like any other wizardlings at first glance.

She assumed it was part of their adaptation to the world they now had been living in, however before this moment she'd thought all the witches looked this way.

A little further in the room she observed a small counter with a huge open book in a thick binding upon its surface, next to it resided a bird stand. Two yellow eyes flashed from that place. The gray owl squinted at those who entered, but didn't make a sound, only traced a sight.

There was no one behind the counter, but the house didn't look like it was empty, quite the opposite.

Dante sailed further and tapped the cauldron several times with his palms, playing a spontaneous rhythm.

“One moment!” A woman's voice came from the distance, outside of the room.

Beyond the counter were several bookcases, but instead of books, some shelves were heaped with various dried plants and glass bottles of different shapes.

Dante’s fingers ran over the green ribbons and colorful stones hanging from the ceiling on his way to a small table.

“Dante!” an astonished voice sounded from behind the counter as the vampire leaned on the table with his back.

Violette turned her head in the direction the sound came from. The light of the lamp brightened the woman's face. The warm colors sparkled in her expressive brown eyes. Her thick brows raised and an impish grin curled her lips.

“Long time no see. I thought you forgot about me,” she let out.

“If only,” Dante said flatly.

“Cad.” She waved hand before her gaze shifted to Violette, standing beside him. “Hello. Are you with him?”

“It's Violette. We have business,” Dante said dryly, without elaborating on what exactly connected both of them.

“Hi,” Violette hadn't had time to say anything else as the woman exclaimed.

“Oh, Dante got himself a girlfriend?” she teased with a sweet smile.

“Oh, no-no-no,” Violette nervously laughed, “I'd rather die.”

The woman burst into laughter, the sound shaking the walls. “No wonder! Dante is not the one to fall in love with.”

“Uhhh, I wouldn't agree with it,” Dante spoke. “I'm definitely much more handsome than your former lover.” He arched his back and took something small from the table, fidgeting it between his fingers .

“At least he was nice, until he decided to break my heart, of course.” The woman ironically shrugged, turning to the girl.

Violette bared her teeth in an awkward smile.

“We both know it's not entirely true,” Dante said and with it something flew in his direction that he deftly dodged.

His teeth flashed through the mask and then his regard got back to Violette.

“I think it's hard to believe but once she was young and pretty. Though it was a very long time ago, nobody actually remembers such times.”

“Oh, nobody? I am pretty sure you were there. But of course, you don't remember. How could you? A bag of sand. Having problems with memory is quite common at your age,” the witch drawled.

Dante huffed, and his face lightened up with a slight smile as he jumped on the table and dangled his legs.

Violette angled her head to better inspect the witch.

Dante was right – she wasn't young, although beauty didn't entirely leave her face.

She was definitely way older than both of them, well – if speaking of Dante – he looked young despite living centuries.

Her tanned skin was giving off a bronze tint and barely noticeable wrinkles formed on her face were imparting some charm to her appearance.

The dark hair with copper undertone pinned back was covered with a multi-colored scarf.

A few messy locks fell onto her rosy cheeks.

“I'm Lamia.” She smiled at her.

“Didn' t think Dante had a friend,” Violette remarked. Something about their interaction seemed like they'd known each other for too long and too good to be just 'partners' as he stated.

“A friend? Me befriending a vampire?” She laughed loudly before distinctly letting out “Never.”

Violette doubted it. “For someone who doesn't like vampires you're too welcoming with us.”

“The enemy of my ex-lover is automatically my ally – it's as simple as this.” Lamia's eyes flashed with amber fire.

“Well, considering Dante, he has a lot of enemies.” Violette glanced to the side.

“It's definitely true. So what do you want?” Lamia asked, changing her gaze to the vampire.

“We need some ingredients for a potion,” Dante voiced, playing with a round statue in his hands.

“Yes, we need Sideralis and Emersus powder,” Violette added.

Lamia listened very attentively, her eyes crinkled with suspicion as she switched her gaze back to Dante.

“And what are you up to?”

“Me?” Dante raised his brows.

“You want to make a rare ingredient potion, I want to know what you are up to.”

“Nothing criminal if you are worried about it.” He shrugged it off .

“Knowing you, I wouldn't trust your words. At least because you don't really separate good deeds from bad.” Her eyes narrowed.

“I'm not going to hurt anyone, the witch girl won't let me. She's very strict when it comes to torturing people.” He glanced sideways at Violette with an almost offended grimace.

Violette ignored him on purpose.

“Well, I have something from my own collection. But I need to know what you can offer me.” Lamia waved her hand.

“Offer to you?” Violette startled. “What could we possibly give you?”

“Come on, it seemed to me that you both got along so well that you could help us just like that. As your new friend.” Dante tossed the figurine in the air.

“Sorry, honey, I like you, but I don't like him,” the woman pointed out.

“Well, that's a common occurrence.” Violette rolled her eyes with a smile on the corners of her mouth. “I actually don't blame you.”

“And what do you want?” Dante asked directly.

“You know what,” the witch said, an insolent smile shining on her gloomy face.

The vampire sighed in annoyance, and then hopped off the table and rolled the sleeve of his shirt.

Lamia came out to meet him from behind the counter and handed him a large needle – unlikely for sewing .

Taking the needle from her hands he nearly hissed “You are so calculating” and thrust it into his index finger.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Blood gushed down his palm.

“I'm just looking for benefits – it's a business.” The woman smiled slyly, handing him a flask.

Dante placed it under his finger and the liquid quickly began to fill the small container.

“Why do you need his blood?” Violette fluttered her lashes. “Do you want to protect yourself from the vampire luring?”