Chapter 6 Mara

Mara landed without incident by the edge of the market. She disengaged her broom to stand. Instantly, her nose felt the assault of the city air. A mixture of too many people close together, smelly food, and horse dung. It made her nose wrinkle, but she maintained a straight face.

Always a pleasure. Really. Mara thought. She couldn't help but be sarcastic.

The city was her least favorite of places. It was too loud for her. Too many things were moving at once and too fast. Enough so that Mara would have a headache from trying to keep up.

And there are all these people- Mara paused.

It was something she could never grow used to. The crowds in the city were big. People lived together in one spot on top of each other. It was almost suffocating.

I miss the sand. Mara thought unexpectedly. She felt a longing for her memory. It seemed ages ago now. When she was back in Freet, amongst the solitary deserts, watching dragons fly over on their heavy wings. Seeing the Freetan woman in their colorful headscarves move about their day and feeling a smile directed toward her by one sweet girl- her once friend.

Mara stopped at the memory of her. She felt a familiar sting come up. But it was dull now. Years had graciously worn down its edge. Mara could feel the sting numb. She easily willed it away.

Like time, Freet was not a place she could return to. Ever

Mara tucked her broom between her satchel and person. Now free-handed, she took a moment to search. Her ears picked up the many conversations. It made her grit her teeth. She could feel the inside canal start throbbing. A gently warning that unless she wanted to be stretched out with another headache- she needed to be prompt about this.

Mara could feel eyes on her. Something that bothered her even more. She snapped her head just in time to catch a pair of women. A look of guilt crossed their faces. Each turned to look away. Mara frowned.

But she left it at that. Instead, she again searched. She looked for her usual vendor. But, of course, he was in today. That, at least, Mara could smile at.

The witch made a bee-line for the stall. With her step, she pulled out a list from her pants. The man knowingly held out his wrinkled hand. Mara smiled at his promptness.

"You took your time." Mr. Sanjul spoke first with his heavy accent.

"I expected you a week earlier."

Mara smiled and gave out the list. She watched him snatch it up, but not rudely. She knew him long enough to see him just being eager for business. The Freetan man was not one to dawdle.

Nor was any Freetan. Mara thought. She smiled again—just the more reason to like him.

"You buy nothing new?" Mr. Sanjul went on. Mara shook her head. She moved to pull open her satchel. Inside, she untied her coin purse to produce a single gold piece. Mr. Sanjul automatically stretched over a hand without looking. Mara dropped the coin into it.

"No. Just the basics." Mara voiced. She watched the man pull up a hemp sack. It was marked with the Elvin word for SUGAR. Mr. Sanjul opened it up to pull out a large cone of it. As he wrapped it in a waxed paper for transport, Mara again looked about her.

Across the way, she spotted a new stall. It was hosted by what looked to be a Sunder. Her hair was neatly pulled up and adored with jade and pearl beads on painted sticks. Her stall looked the part of elegance and artistry equally alongside her. Mara almost felt pity for the woman.

Something as tastefully as this is just a waste in Terra, Mara thought. And she was answered correctly by watching the stall.

People would pass the woman and her finery. Some paused to look at the effects but just as quickly scattered before the Sunder could speak. And others outright showed hostility toward the immigrant.

"Go back to Sundry- Dirty sand eater! No one wants you here!" Mara watched a man spit on one of her show dresses. He stood there a moment as if waiting for a reaction. But the Sunder only stood with a professional smile. The man seemed dissatisfied with the response. He scuffed and left. Mara watched him disappear into the crowd.

The feeling of eyes on her made Mara break away. She turned to look ahead. It was the Sunder. She smiled at Mara with a gentle nod. Mara watched her gracefully move the assaulted dress off the table. The sight of it compelled Mara to do something.

"I'll be right back to pick up everything." Mara half turned to Mr. Sanjul. The man grunted understanding, still at work gathering the list up. Mara gave a knock to the stall before pushing away. Her legs carried her steadily toward the other side of the street. The Sunder kept eyes with Mara the whole way.

"Good morning, my lady. What may I help you with?" The Sunder spoke in an accent as Mara stopped before her table. On approach, Mara smelt a pleasant aroma waft up. It was a mix of tea and something flowery. Not sweet, but it matched the woman. Behind her, Mara could spot incense burning.

"Yes, I require a dress, but…." Mara stopped to look at her wears. From what she could see, everything was of acceptable quality. The embroidered birds and flowers looked professional. The fabric was nothing less than silk and satin. Everything was tailored to the level of its price. Each was holding an even higher ticket than the last.

They're gorgeous, Mara thought, wanting to own one for herself. But Sy would destroy all of these.

"I'm afraid these won't last. I would need something sturdier." Mara confessed. She expected the woman to frown for having wasted her time. But Mara was surprised to see the Sunder only nod. A smile was still on the mysterious woman's face.

"You look for work clothes, then? This I have." The Sunder replied quickly. She turned to pull out a gobble bag from under a stall. Mara blinked after her, surprised. The Sunder, meanwhile, opened the bag and turned as if waiting.

"For you?" She asked. Mara took a second to understand the question. The translation had been lost in her accent. But Mara then understood. She was soon shaking her head.

"N-no. I need it for a girl. A four- I mean a five-year-old." Mara replied. The woman nodded. A hand shoved into her bag.

"Cloth?" The Sunder asked. Mara could hear her hand rummaging through what sounded like a stockpile of clutter. There was the unmistakable sound of glass clinking. Mara paused to think.

"I'd say cotton- hemp even, if you have it. She's rather rough on her things." Mara replied thoughtfully. The feeling of eyes on her back made Mara turn. Again she could see people looking at her. Or the Sunder. Mara couldn't be sure now. But she could see people have stopped nearby and gathered into groups to gawk.

Mara glared back. The look made some turn away. Others pick up their things and walk on. Some, though, seemed to miss her meaning and stared out. Dumbly.

Don't you have better things to do? Mara wanted to shout.

"A tom-boy, then." The Sunder spoke behind. Mara's side glanced over to the woman. She could see three dresses pulled out. They were folded neatly next to the woman. Mara watched the Sunder snap-close her bag. She stuffed it back underneath the table. The dresses were picked up with one arm, and she gracefully walked over to Mara.

"These will work." The Sunder voiced confidently. She held out the pile. Mara gingerly took each and held it out. One was soft cotton with pink dye. The other was of hemp cloth. It was dyed in earthen tones—the first a sage green with front pockets. And the latter was an espresso brown with deep side pockets.

Mara held the second two over her arm. But returned the pink. The Sunder accepted it with some curiosity. Mara shrugged with a simple laugh.

"I already know this one won't last. Trust me. But the others- just what I was looking for." Mara replied. She moved to open her flap. Her fingers deftly pulled on the coin purse strings. She pulled out a gold piece.

"Thank you." Mara held it out. The Sunder nodded and took the coin. Mara watched her place it in a pocket. Mara turned to leave, having nothing more to do. She felt the Sunder watch her go.

"Thank you, my lady." Mara could hear the Sunder speak behind her. She could feel the sincerity in it. Mara smiled. But kept walking.

At Mr. Sanjul's stall, Mara could see her food box waiting. She moved to put the dresses into it. She neatly packed them around the sugar cone and flour for further protection. Mara wanted to say thank you and looked up. But she wasn't that surprised to see Mr. Sanjul already at work with yet another customer.

Instead, she gave the stall a good knock and picked up the box. It moved to rest on the opposite side of her purse and broom. The box felt heavier than typically, but Mara threw that to be just the added weight of the dresses.

I guess I'll be going then- Mara was thinking and turned to see yet another stall. From over there, she could still make out what could only be the shine of metal in the sun. It glistened with the morning light as it was displayed across the table. Screwdrivers, hammers, saws, and other widgets, Mara could identify most of it. But the others, she was sure Sy would know.

Should I? Mara thought. A serious question for her. Though she disliked how Sy would run off to the junkyard, she couldn't deny how much joy those mechanics brought her. And it was something the child had asked for every year since she could even talk.

It would make her happy, Mara knew. She pressed the box firmer to her hip. It creaked against her weight but remained. Mara rolled her tongue over her front teeth. Her fingers drilled over the box one time.

As she looked on, her eyes caught the next venue over. That merchant was selling Gobble bags. One looked to be a backpack. It looked small enough to fit on Sy's back. Mara sighed with defeat.

"Alright, but I won't spend more than two coins- that's final," Mara vowed. But already, she was considering the whole set- otherwise, how would she know what to buy Sy? What would she need more than another?

But, of course, Mara couldn't tell this kind of stuff. She was a witch. Not a tinker.

Wherever did she get that from? Mara could not help but ponder again.

Finally, she sighed and begrudgingly made her way over to the far side of the street. Walking toward them, Mara passed two witches dressed in complete D.O.W. uniforms. Just a pair of teen witches that talked loud enough for Mara to hear everything. But she chose to ignore them.

Instead, she approached the counter. The girl, another teen, unceremoniously looked up at her. Mara stiffened her smile.

"One set of these tools, please, and a gobble bag—the one like a backpack. Thanks," Mara asked.

The teen snapped her tongue. Not saying a word of greeting but moved to gather up what was asked for. Mara made to pull open her flap. Her fingers made for the coin purse. The teen, meanwhile, dropped the items onto the table with a thud. Mara cringed at the sound. And gave a harsh glare at the teen. The girl didn't seem to notice.

"Five coins, lady." The teen was monotoned. Mara felt her jaw drop.

"FIVE- FIVE COINS!" Mara gasped, utterly shocked.

Five coins- even if it was everything. Wasn't that just robbery? Mara stared at the teen with disbelief. The teen only shrugged at her. Another wave of defeat fell over the witch.

"Fine," Mara finally caved in. She painfully pulled five pieces out. She placed them into the teen's hand. Having the coins, the teen turned and receded to her chair. She still looked completely disinterested.

Mara gave another sharp glare at the rude girl. But did nothing by it. Instead, she gathered her purchases and threw them into the gobble back. She moved to throw the box and her purse in as well. It all fit smoothly inside the endless vortex. Mara moved to pull up the backpack when something caught her ear. It was the two witches of earlier.

"There's going to be another war soon." The first witch spoke. Mara paused. Her hand was still in the air with the strap.

"Oh? Really? But with who?" The second witch replied.

"Don't be deft- Us and Sundry, of course. The king and the prime minister of Sundry are no longer on talking terms again." The first witch spoke. Mara remained listening.

"Oh? Why for?" The second asked. The first laughed. Mara felt her stomach turn at the sound.

"Well, I didn't hear this directly- and you can't quote me, but I heard that the Prime Minister said the king was being 'garish' with his spoils of war." The first said.

"Garish- the heck is that?" The second asked.

"Tacky, I think. But can you imagine that? Her calling our king tacky?" The first implied.

"Oh gods, right- she's just jealous that they lost the war. And now we have all the money. What a sour loser." The second mocked.

"I know, right. The sheer gall of that woman! Saying stuff like that? But then again, aren't all Sunders that way? Always looking down on everyone. Like their own poop don't smell." The first mocked.

"Uh! You're right. It's like they think THEY won the war; clearly, they need some sense knocked back into them. I say another ass-kicking should put them in their place." The second voiced. Mara clenched her fists.

"Here here! Let's have a war! I'll support it!" The first witch laughed outright. She clapped her hands excitedly. The other cheered.

"Me too! I want war."

"You think wars should be fought over such petty crap as this?" Mara cut through their conversation with an icy voice. The two witches fell silent.

Mara pulled on her strap and turned to face them. She could see the look of bewilderment on their face. The first, finally, took a swallow of air, then spoke.

"We- The king and prime minister are always fighting. It's nothing new." The witch replied. Mara could see how she puffed up her chest with courage only the young could muster. A scuff escaped Mara's lips. She narrowed her eyes. The witch instantly deflated and grew pale.

"So, that's all it'll take, huh? Just a side comment and we're back at war?" Mara voiced. Her tone was getting deeper with each syllable. Inside, something knelled. Its vibration arose the hidden feelings Mara had left settled. Those terrible and violent ones.

Mara reached out to rake her fingers softly across the one girl's cheek.

"All those thousand witches who died during the last war were forced in by that damned oath- all dead and gone. Because our leaders had a hissy fit?" Mara hissed through her teeth. She felt the girl squirm. A bead of sweat began to form on the other brow.

Something told Mara to pull back. She was scaring them. But something else said to do worse.

Mara chose to listen to the first. Having pulled back her hand, Mara saw the girl immediately let out a breath of relief. She leaned into her friend, and the other wrapped her arms around her protectively. Mara was met with a look of rage from the other.

"What's wrong with you!?" The second witch barked. Tears fell from her eyes. Mara could only guess it was more from fear than relief. She turned to look ahead. Eyes were clearly on her again.

Mara chose to ignore them. Instead, she began to walk from the stall. She aimed toward the edge of the market.

"You two were just babes then. But if you want a war, why don't you fight it yourselves. So you can watch your sisters and brothers be ripped limb from limb as they scream for help. Just screaming and crying from both sides as we blindly throw inhuman spells at each other. All because of an oath to a king who doesn't care how many of us die.

Or better yet- have the king fight his battle. Then, instead of forcing us to die- have both make their death beds. And choke on it." Mara growled. Her hand reached to snatch up her broom. She pulled out from her side. She was ready to jump on and fly as soon as she was far enough.

Mara squeezed her broom. Enough so that it could break up the wood. But she managed to restrain herself.

Already, she could feel a headache form above her left eye. Mara winced. Her other hand moved to rub her brow. She had stayed too long. The city had gotten to her.

Damn it all, Mara thought. Just what she needed. A bloody headache on her birth-

"You have another one of your famous headaches, Mara?" A familiar voice whispered in Mara's ear. Horrified by the sudden closeness, Mara reeled back. She dropped her broom with a clatter to the cobblestone. She threw up her hands, ready to fight.

Blindly afraid, Mara stared blankly to see her assailant. What she saw, though, she could never have been prepared for.

The red-headed woman bent down. Her long fingers effortlessly pulled up the broom. She moved it to stand at her side. Indicating she had no intention of handing it over. Mara knew she had no plan of letting her get away either.

"It's been a while, Madame Batswitch." The woman voiced. Mara closed her eyes. It was hopeless to struggle.

"Hey… Madame Madeline." Mara replied.