Short Stories by Francesca Astraea

Read part one here.

Once upon a time, when Great Britain was full of farmland, occupying Romans and bad teeth, there was a girl with an overbearing father. Once upon a time, there was a girl in love with the girl with an overbearing father.

Once upon a time, both the father and the girlfriend visited a witch.

The father had one goal: to bend his child to his will, so she would marry a suitable man, settle down and give him peace in his old age.

The girlfriend had one goal: to stop him.

When it became clear to the father that his daughter, Mariana, was less pliable than solid rock and had no intention of respecting his wishes, the father approached the village witch for supernatural help. He initially requested a simple mind-altering drug, something to make Mariana compliant. The gods had cursed him with a daughter but no sons, so he felt justified in asking for this small magical favour to make the best of what he had.

Mariana, unfortunately, was too headstrong. The potion he fed her did not take; she would not marry his choice of husband. She wanted to study medicine.

On his second visit to the witch, he demanded a more permanent solution.

After substantial haggling, the witch provided him with a spell that would turn a person into stone.

It worked.

When he realised there would be no more arguing, no more embarrassment within the community that his only child was running wild, the father wept a little and praised the gods for their help. The local witch rolled her eyes and counted her money.

The father planned to sell the statue.

When Mariana’s girlfriend, Silvia, learnt of her fate, she threw herself at the knees of the witch and begged for something to reverse the magic.

‘Grant me something,’ she pleaded. ‘Surely there’s a way to undo your enchantment.’

‘The spell will hold for two thousand years,’ the witch warned. ‘My magic can hold out for precisely that long and no longer—since my customers and any war mongering offspring they might produce will be long gone by then. You would wait two millennia to see Mariana again?’

‘I would,’ Silvia wept. ‘Give me a way to keep us close and I will stay with her until she is free.’

‘Very well,’ the witch acquiesced. She had been young once—well, younger—and remembered the pain of losing a loved one. ‘I can protect you both until she wakes up. But you must know, child, that there is a price.’

‘Name it.’

‘I’m not talking about money. Besides, that old lout paid my expenses for a decade. Once Mariana is herself again, nature will catch up with you both. You will have a week at most before you both crumble to dust.’

Silvia thought about it. ‘One week of freedom together is better than an eternity apart. I accept your terms.’

‘Careful, child,’ the witch warned. ‘I will not live long enough to know if my magic holds as I expect. You will be waiting longer than anyone should naturally live, just for one week of life in a world that Mariana will not recognise.’

‘I am prepared to wait,’ Silvia insisted. ‘Give us the means to stay together and I will ensure that when the time comes, our week will be worth the wait.’

‘In that case,’ the witch said as she reached for her spell books, ‘I would start learning some hobbies.’

Emil had to take a minute to gather his thoughts once Silvia had ended her story.

The statue, Mariana, seemed to be looking straight at him.

‘So you’ve been waiting for her to wake up for two thousand years?’

‘One thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine years and one hundred and thirty and a half days.’

‘And you want the house to be ready for when she wakes up.’

‘Exactly.’

They were silent for several minutes. Then Emil stood up. Silvia followed, a little unsteady on her feet. Well, she was getting on a bit. ‘I think, Ms. Benedict, we have a deal.’

Several months later, the Peabody & Jennings received a letter from Silvia Benedict. In it were the deeds to the lodge and a photograph of two young women, standing in the garden, laughing.