Outside of the cave, a doe, a prairie dog, and a hawk awaited the pentuple. The animals went eagerly to the different women. Coseph tapped Josarl’s shoulder with concern, but Josarl was fixated on the interaction. The doe nuzzled the leader while the prairie dog did circles around the feet of one woman and the hawk sat on the gloved right hand of the left handed woman. He understood enough to realize there was a connection, clearly one that included affection, however that was all his observations could reveal at the time. Finally, he acknowledged Coseph’s persistent nudging by turning to him.
Coseph appeared to be rather distraught. He jerked his head at the women, then held his hands out while keeping his arms close to his body. Josarl didn’t understand the meaning in full. Wheels turned until he remembered what the priests of Lukoro said about witches. He shook his head. At that point his attention was once again drawn by the women. They had left brooms by the cave entrance. These they mounted as they would horses and began levitating slightly above ground. Even if it was another world, they seemed to match the description closely.
“I hope y’all are up for a hike. These brooms ain’t built for two.”
“We can manage,” said Josarl.
The lead witch nodded. She signaled with two fingers and the other witches assumed positions on either side of and slightly behind the pair. Josarl stumbled forward a step as the doe rubbed up against him. He gave her a friendly rub as the group set off.
The coven controlled a plot of nd so rge it took them three hours to reach the ranch on foot. Their captors and hosts floated on their brooms along side them at a leisurely pace while the men walked. Before they even arrived at the main complex, they could see the central house. A four story turret stood on each corner oriented, according to the lead witch, towards the ordinal directions. A fifth, taller turret jutted out of the middle and the main roof flowed down from it like a tent made of shale. Josarl noticed a few other buildings, like the pair of barns, but not any rge amount of movement on the premises.
“That’s a rather rge building, even for a ranch,” said Josarl as they neared. “How many live here?”
“The whole coven,” said the lead witch.
Their approach concluded with their arrival on a rge porch that appeared to run most of the way around the house. Many empty rocking chairs sat in static vigil over the open ndscape.
“I’m not sure about this,” said Coseph
Josarl ignored the comment as he followed the witches inside. The ground floor was a high ceilinged floor divided into a main hall, which went straight through the building along a north-south axis, a feasting hall and a hybrid lounge and audience hall. It was to this lounge that they were led.
“They’re going to get us,” whispered Coseph.
“Rex,” whispered Josarl. “The old rules do not apply here. Give them a chance.”
Despite his words, Josarl’s own comfort was being stretched by an old woman off to their left who wore nothing under her robe and said robe was open all the way. She had a leg propped up on the chair’s arm and the other leg sprawled away, dispying everything. Looking around, he noted that just about everyone in the room was an older woman. Their robes were varied, seemingly used as an expression of their personalities more than a mark of rank or trend of fashion. A variety of animals lounged around ranging from the familiar house cat to unfamiliar creatures that clearly came from an entirely different biome. Josarl wondered if there was a detail he was missing that created a pattern, but his attention was drawn by spoken words.
“We found them in one of the bluff caves, Matriarch. We have concretely determined that they have come through the Liminal Void.”
“I do decre, this here is a most fascinating turn of events!” The speaker was not quite the eldest, at least by Josarl’s estimation, but she was the most revered and potentially powerful. She sat on a throne elevated on a dais. He could perceive no further details because the entire thing was covered in bnkets. She was just a head poking out of a bnket cocoon. “Now what are ya’ll doing on this here range of ours?”
Josarl could feel Coseph attaching to his arm, however he maintained eye contact as much as the helmet would allow with the matriarch. “We came with the aim of testing our transportation. Nothing further.”
“Too vague! And take that helmet off! It’s rude to keep one’s hat on indoors.”
Josarl was slow to acquiesce. Instead he said, “It is the custom of our nd to make the guest as comfortable as possible. Perhaps you could give my- associate here some assurance that you are not like the witches from our world.”
An uncannily even smile pressed the matriarch’s cheeks out of position. “Aye, we can give you that. We are the Tallgrass Coven. We live out here, away from the cities, to seek self-fulfillment and learn to have harmony both with nature and with our sisters. Any stories of skinning the unfortunate or using human components in our potions is a deception. Even Metilda’s Eyeball Stew is just red broth and white grapes. I assure you, so long as you behave respectfully, you will be safe.”
Coseph detached from Josarl, though he remained a little behind him and Josarl imagined that he was apprehensive. With his arm free, he removed his helmet. “We work for a group of natural philosophers known as the Acornial. We are currently testing new magical constructs to aid in our search for-” He gnced at Coseph, who knew less about their mission than he did. Returning his gaze to the matriarch, he tried to make a split second decision on whether she could be fooled. Josarl failed to make any sort of quick determination, so he simply tried to ride the line. “Knowledge.”
“Specific knowledge, I’d wager,” said the Mariarch assuredly. “What were you doing in the cave?”
“We were in that cave because that’s where our Compendium Gate opened a portal. We currently are working to more finely control how and where it opens.”
The Matriarch nodded. “You are keeping something back, however, I would say you’re still too free with information. Especially if you encounter any Corvians or the Longrock Coven. They would certainly want to know everythin’ about your gate. And the Longrocks would know that your armor came from the Liminal Void. No one from our world has ever pulled anything from the Liminal Void. In fact, only one has ever managed to reach it. Many ment the loss of that research, so you should keep your mission a secret here. The other covens already sense your presence. Do not worry. They are too far away to interfere for many weeks. However, anything from that void disrupts the natural flow of magical energies in an unmistakable way.”
“What is the Corvians’ interest in what you call the Liminal Void?”
“They are seekers of science and religiously opposed to any magic. If their holy book calls it magic, then they hate it. Either they would seize you for research or destroy you for bsphemy. I’m not too familiar with their ways, so I can’t tell you how they distinguish.”
“I understand,” said Josarl. “Thank you.”
“Since there ain’t a one in this world that can help you, I suppose you should be on your way. However,” the Matriarch, “I would like to extend an invitation to dinner and to staying the night. It would be interesting to learn about your world.”
“We gdly accept your invitation,” said Josarl.
“Very good. Lauren!” This st comment was directed at the witch who lead the party sent to find them. “Have a room prepared.” Lauren nodded sharply and left. The matriarch settled into her bnket cocoon. “Now,” she continued, “I have questions.”
“As long as they do not exceed the limits imposed by our superiors, we will answer.”
“How did you get here?”
“If you mean, ‘what method did we use,’ then I would answer that the learned men of our world built the Compendium Gate over the course of about two years. The gate allows us to travel between realities.”
“So y’all chose to come here? To our world specifically?”
“No, the gate opens somewhat at random. We have to work with whatever world we are presented. It is a problem that we are currently attempting to correct. Now tell us how you know of the Liminal Void in the first pce?”
The Matriarch ughed. “There have been efforts to visit worlds beyond ours before. One of them managed to reach the void, though I ain’t privy to the particurs of the endeavor. Word is it never made it past that stage and no one has ever managed to do it again, least not in my lifetime. When it did work, pretty much every single witch and warlock in the world could sense it. Nirll, even those Corvians with their telephones and their automobiles found out about it and they can’t sense shit.”
“How does that sensing work?” asked Josarl. “If we could replicate it, such a tool would be invaluable to our endeavors.”
“For us witches, we sense the flow of nature’s energy, what most folk call magic. When a way outta our world is made, unless it goes to worlds specifically connected to our own, it disrupts the flow of that energy. If that is not how things work in your world, then I’m not particurly sure we can teach you anything specially useful.”
“It would still be worth a test,” said Josarl.
“It sounds like y’all want to find more disruptions when you go to other worlds.”
Josarl hesitated. “Eventually.”
“Now that is of particur peculiarity,” said the Matriarch, leaning forward. “I can think of two reasons you’d be interested in finding something like that.”
“And you will have to keep guessing. I have orders not to disclose the purpose of my mission. You understand.”
“We all have…obligations. Perhaps you could tell me something else? Perhaps how closely our two worlds resemble each other.”
“I’m afraid I cannot. I am an Untempted. I go where I must, so I don’t get to travel my own world at all.”
“Sounds restrictive.”
Distant thunder turned into hoof falls as a herd of cows filed into a nearby pasture. A pair of witches dressed simirly to Lauren flew past low enough that they could be spotted from the porch but high enough to let them ignore any fence they came across. They were soon followed by a witch leading a horse.
“The others have returned,” said the Matriarch. “We will begin making dinner soon. We will resume when the meal is ready. I must discuss things with my coven now.”
Josarl and Coseph left the lounge and stepped out onto the porch. Coseph took a seat on one of the chairs while Josarl sat on the railing.
“Why did she think we were looking for more ways into their Liminal Void?” asked Coseph. Josarl said nothing. When he remained still, one could almost mistake him for decorative art. “Is there something more to this than we were told?”
“More than you were told.” Josarl’s tone made his meaning clear.
“Why? What is so bad that we need to hide the problem from the people who are trying to solve it?”
“The leadership doesn’t consider your understanding important to the endeavor. Accept it. Please.”
Coseph sensed the irritation. It was the kind one felt when you wanted to answer, had the means to answer, but were held back. “Can you at least tell me how bad it is?”
Josarl raised his head slightly, casting shadows over his visor. “When the records of our time are written, they will be in a tone that will make the fall of the Gatian Empire seem inconsequential.”
Coseph gripped the rocking chair arms with such strength that his hands must have turned white under his gloves. “Then it is to prevent panic.”
“Yes.”
“What are our odds?”
“I’ve already said too much!” hissed Josarl. “Keep what I have said to yourself. It is imperative! Know that we are on a mission whose magnitude and implications even the nobles struggle to understand and be content that you are at least a part of history.”
“Alright, but-”
The nearby door creaked open. A cat sauntered out, followed by a young witch. Josarl’s best guess pced her in the mid teens, a woman by the standards of his homend. She dressed simirly to the other witches. A rge, bck, pointy hat with a peculiar brim that curved up as it went back sat on her head at an awkward backward lean. A bck robe covered a simple red blouse. Lower down, leather leggings with leather tassels running up the sides and no crotch covering in the front or rear protected gray pants. Shin high riding boots nearly completed the attire, only falling short in one area. Josarl noticed some kind of gun sheath on her right hip with something he identified as a fire arm, but far smaller than the arquebuses of home.
“Howdy,” she said. “I’m Helena. Y’all must be the menfolk Ma mentioned.”
Coseph gnced at Josarl who had yet to move.
“Yes,” he said, his helmet rotating as if on a swivel rather than a person. “We are.”
“Is it true? Are ya really from another reality?”
“We are.” said Josarl.
“Explorers?”
“It is part of our function. Are you driving this herd somewhere specific or-?”
“I ain’t never heard that saying before.”
“It’s a common saying for rural people in my world. It’s another way of asking you to ask your question already, without the impatient edge.”
“Ah,” said Helena brightly. “Well, I’ve got to know if you have seen anywhere less...rural?”
“Our base of operation is, uh-” Josarl shifted his attention to Coseph. “Would you say the Acornial is in Falkad or next to it?”
“It’s more above it, but I think the legal limit of the city includes it.”
“Well,” resumed Josarl to Helena, “In a city enough.”
“Perhaps I can make myself clear,” she said. “Have any of the worlds you visited had machines? Not like pumps and shiiiii- stuff. I mean advanced things. Like cars! Or pnes! Or elevators!”
Josarl shook his head. “This is the second world we’ve visited and our own world was more advanced than the first. I’m not saying we won’t visit one, just that we haven’t yet.”
“Why not?”
“Portal opens where it likes. We are still trying to fine tune it.”
“So you’re saying there is a good chance we could go somewhere with real technology?”
Josarl picked up on her slip and the gleam in her eye. “We might. You will not.”
“I want to come!”
“Why would we want you? More importantly, what makes you think coming with two strangers like us will end well at all for you?”
“I’m a good shot, I can fly a broom well enough and I have technical aptitude that I want to develop! As for why I think you’re okay. Well, Ma says so.”
“Your mother thinks we’re trustworthy?”
”Yes!”
Coseph was giving Josarl an intense stare. Josarl had no idea what he was trying to communicate. “Well, she didn’t meet our superiors. They will surely want to seize your weapon, your broom and anything else of interest to study before burning you at the stake for heresy. Stopping something like that would be difficult to say the least.”
“I want to come. Here, I’ll never get my hands on anything as fascinating. With you, I think I have a real chance. I’ll stand up for myself. Please just give me a chance.”
“I was trying to e gentle by drawing your attention to the dangers,” said Josarl slowly. “The answer is no.”
“But why!”
“Because the pleading of a random girl we have only just met with no evidence that she would be as useful as she cims is not a particurly convincing argument.”
The door flew open as Lauren, hardly recognizable in simple robes instead of her outfit from the cave, stepped outside. “There you are! Get inside and help!”
“Yes, Ma.”
Lauren’s voice abruptly turned sweet. “You two should come in as well. Dinner will be served soon.”
Coseph and Josarl followed Helena inside the feasting hall. Two long tables with spines of candles ran down the length of the hall. A rge cauldron sat inside an appropriately rge firepce at the west end despite Josarl distinctly remembering that the house had no chimneys. Smaller tables and pantries cluttered up the rest of the west end while the end nearer to the entrance seemed to be decorated with an assortment of carvings, crystals, fossils, paintings, the head of an unknown predator, some masks, a waistcoat and a single squished bullet in a case.
Coseph stared at the various decorations while Josarl observed the witches preparing the meal. The witches appeared to have a well ordered system. The youngest witches, usually little girls and teens, would gather the materials. Helena joined this group. The older witches would prepare them and the elder crones would file in slowly over the course of the meals preparation. Josarl noticed that the meal appeared to primarily be pnts. While several fine cuts of meat were brought in ter in the preparation process, he guessed that there was only enough for each person to have a small amount. The rest appeared to be some kind of purple gourds with red stripes, fruits and some sad.
“Coseph,” said Josarl, but when he turned around Coseph was backed into a corner with a bear pinning him down by his p. “Do you want me to go find that familiar’s witch?”
“No, no,” said Coseph. “This is fine. We can’t show weakness, right?”
“That is a stupid reason to do anything. Either pet the bear or ask for its removal but don’t sit there petrified.”
Younger witches began to move past him with bowls of bread and sad. When he turned, he saw several others distributing portions of the meat, gourds and fruits to ptes. Behind them one, witch seemed to be swirling a fan around that appeared to be drawing in the smoke from the enclosed fire. She used her free hand to seemingly guide it into a jar that she took into the adjoining turret. A middle-aged witch approached him to kindly guide him towards a seat in the middle, where the eldest witches and the matriarch sat. Josarl looked around to see what the eating customs were, however the witches merely sat down and waited for the matriarch. She in turn waited for everyone to be seated before blurting out, “Eat!” This commenced a frenzy of eating in some corners while other witches were cutting their food into small bits and carefully skewering them on forks.
“You are our guest,” said the matriarch. “In this nd the host provides food, warmth and safety. The guest provides stories. Tell us of your home.”
“Um, alright,” said Josarl. It was hard to come up with stories that he could actually tell when he spent most of his time inside the Acornial. “We are from the city of Falkad. It is a major intellectual center in the kingdom and has developed a rather strong economy as a result. Most of the people are peasants. I’m sorry, I’m not sure what sorts of things you want me to tell you. I am a mere Untempted and hardly participate in the wider culture.”
“Then expin what an Untempted is,” said the matriarch.
“We are individuals for whom susceptibility of sexual temptation is not an issue. Lukoro blessed us so that we may focus diligently on the betterment of our society. Usually that blessing is squandered by sending us when the danger is extreme instead of one who would willingly produce offspring. We are often educated to serve as specialists for complex tasks like reinforcing poorly constructed mines or rescues in dangerous environments.”
“That’s simply ghastly!” said one of the witches.
“It is the way of Lukoro,” said Josarl.
“And how would you determine who is and isn’t an Untempted?” asked the same witch.
“There are pools of milk white which change color when living beings are dipped into them. It is our custom that all who reach the age of maturity are dipped to determine their pce in the Tree.” Most come out as expected and carry on with their lives. Sometimes people do not come out… as expected. Depending on how they come out determines how they are pced in the Tree. Sometimes the Tree is pruned. Our nobles are engrossed by ideas of order.”
“Then they best not come ‘round these parts!” shouted out one of the older witches. “’cause we’ll whoop their asses all the way home if they try that ‘order’ nonsense ‘round here!”
There was a round of whooping and hollering from the whole hall.
“You seemed fairly ordered when preparing the meal,” observed Josarl.
“We may have a role to py on the ranch, but we ain’t forced into anything by anyone!” said the middle-aged witch from earlier.
“Then why do I get in trouble for skipping potions, Lucy?” called out Helena.
“That’s different!” replied Lucy. “Young’uns need their education. And being able to brew a damn good Potion of Wakefulness is as important as learning to walk and talk for your future.”
“Just call it coffee like everyone else!” called one of the other teens and the far ends of the tables broke out in giggling.
“Would you prefer to move into the city?” said the Matriach. “Work the Corvian factories? Or perhaps you’d like to try your luck riding with Nokadol nomads? I’m sure leather tents and furs keep one quite warm while sleeping on the hard ground. Or perhaps you’d like to carry the knowledge of the coven into the future? Help maintain a bastion of independence. You’re free to choose when you come of age. At that point, we have no responsibility to care for you. Until then, we will make sure you can be the kind of witch that can achieve their hag form at the very least.”
The younger witches quieted sullenly, clearly not appreciating the threat of being thrown to the harshness of the outside, but unwilling to entirely give up advocating against their responsibilities. After a moment of quiet, Josarl spoke up.
“What is a hag form?”
“It is an unrefined expression of a witch’s personality and power,” said the Matriarch. “It grants great power, however what that power can do is not certain. Some can commune with animals of a simir temperament, command the forces of nature that best harmonize with their personality, or simply enhance their other magics.”
Heads began to perk up and look around as the sounds of horses thundered towards the house.
“Candice, please see who it is,” said the Matriarch.
One of the witches stood up and left. She momentarily returned to say, “Nokadol warriors. They’re carryin’ Dolhan’s colors.”
“Carry on with the meal!” said the Matriarch, lifting her frail frame up slowly. “Lucy, help me over to the throne. I will see them in the lounge.”
Coseph tried to give Josarl a meaningful gnce, but Josarl’s armor didn’t allow him to turn enough to see, so Coseph had to tap to get his attention. Once he’d turned the whole chair, Coseph could make his meaningful look.
“Just say what you mean,” said Josarl.
“Do you think something is happening?”
“Probably. We’ll find out soon enough. Just finish up.”
Coseph nodded and returned to his meal. Josarl’s gaze lingered on the Matriarch as she left. He felt the wheels of politics turning, but he didn’t have solid evidence of any kind to justify or contextualize it, so he returned to his food and considered what he was feeling.
