A Day with Doti, part 2
6:33 pm, Sowenmoon 24th, 456 NE Madame Fem’s, Haver Street, Naurlinz, Southern Wisana
Navigating Haver Street at this time of day, especially for the wee Flirnii women, is an entertaining, confusing and occasionally threatening (but rarely mortally so) pursuit. The famous, or rather infamous, street runs along the north side of the colourful Uleoin quarter. During the day it is a thoroughfare that humps up in the middle at Harlots’ Hill connecting Lakefront to Riverfront. By night; casinos, brothels and saloons are stuffed with eager pleasure seekers. Buskers perform in the streets and Naurlinz’s distinct jaunty Treole music carries out from the saloons. Street vendors with a myriad of goods, legal and suspect, half of which are food carts all crowd the wide boulevard. Crier’s for all sorts of goods and services bellow their grift. The occasional lay philosopher or evangelist shouts over it all from whatever elevations they can gain like a soap box. Every clade and class of people can be found; rich, poor, Gensii, Nander, Sovanii, Xape, Flirnii and Treole all with a tendency to hedonism, opportunity and liberal ideas.
Madame Fem’s is up a stair in a courtyard reached from an alleyway off of Haver Street. The brightly painted archway is adorned with sigils. Charms and oddities; bright and new, faded and ancient hang like curtains of tree moss. The shadows within seem to shift independent of any light source. There is a clowder of cats that occupies the area and there are 12-30 there at any given time. Locals feed them with near reverence. This is where Emmy and Doti arrived at sunset, stuffed after gorging themselves on corndogs, battered sweetbreads, honey wings and peach bourbon pie at the street stands. They were alone except for the cats and an old raggedy man above them who was lighting the lanterns hung from the mezzanine. This illuminated the courtyard casting long low shadows about the space cluttered with looming patinated wooden totems and large pots holding exotic plants. The totems’ sea shell teeth and eyes seemed to have sinister intent. Shells yellowed by age gave a pall of hepatic eyes and tobacco stained teeth. Unwholesome. Yet the atmosphere had that soothing feeling after sunset on a hot day. The buzzing of cicadas came and went.
Emmy had a sense of dread. Perhaps it was just a clash of this with her bright and carefree day.
Doti’s exuberant voice broke her mounting inward tension. “She is said to be the best soothsayer in all Naurlinz. It is said she is from the lands of the Cloud People in the heart of Gemt. I don’t think the bad rumours are true.” with her voice lowering on the latter words. She stared into the mysterious archway.
“What bad rumours Dot?” Emmy’s dread began to resurface. Simultaneously, she tried to keep her hat on as she tried to control Pan. He was likely having anxiety about the 23 cats. As the marten scurried about her neck, head and arms she eyed the cats with suspicion.
The cats sat in a circle around them. They calmly gave slow blinks as they nodded at each other.
“Oh, supposedly she takes a small part of your soul with each reading and that The Church cannot do a thing about her because she has pieces of the Bishop’s soul. Her cats are spies and assassins too. Also, she has supposedly had five husbands she has outlived. She has a goose that lays golden eggs. Things like that.”
“What is bad about golden eggs?”
“It prolly isn’t true, is all.”
A small elderly tortoise shell calico, with an air of being the matron of this clowder, sauntered up to them with tail high and slowly waving. Purring as it wove its way around their legs a few times. Doti gave the molly the cock’s heart she had been told to bring. After the cat ate the heart, Doti gave her the small cloth pouch that held the quid of tobacco and a lump of salt that was a customary offering with any wise one. The cat took the pouch and scuttled into the charm cloaked stairwell. The two women followed.
At the top a bright blue door had a skull with flaming eyes at its center. At the bottom was another door set in it. It was small, orange and perhaps two-foot tall. Bunches of feathers and fresh herbs and flowers surrounded the door with their aroma mixing with the faint smoke of a strange and not unpleasant incense leaking from the room beyond. They heard what sounded like someone hustling about rapidly closing cupboards on the other side. Then it stopped. Silence. Then, a jingle. Long silence. The cat sat calmly in front of the small door. The long silence continued. “What’s taking so long.” Doti whispered as she reached for Emmy’s hand.
“I don’t know but maybe this isn’t such a great idea right now. I’m pretty tired.” Emmylou whispered back. The dread was increasing. She wasn’t really that tired. She was nervous.
BRAAAMP!!
“Aaaah!” they both screamed simultaniously. Emmylou, quick as a cricket, ducked to the side and onto the stairs for cover. Unconsciously reached for her small pepperbox pistol and prepared to summon magic. Pan was alert with his back erect. He peered over the rise of the top step. Doti was frozen in place. The old cat was nonplussed.
The small door had opened with what sounded like a blast on a tuba. Warm yellow light spilled out tinting the little blue door green. A greyish monkey wearing a red fez and vest popped out and eyed them suspiciously as he reached for the pouch from the cat. He sniffed the little bag and his suspicious demeaner waned. Putting an arm around the cat’s shoulder like a confidant he whispered in what sounded more like Treole than monkey. The cat nuzzled him and pranced off. Turning to the ladies as he deftly stashed the pouch in his fez he bowed deeply. Then stood with an air of resignation. Coming up closer, he seemed to first notice Pan. He got a mischievous grin, waved his arms to follow him, began whistling a tune and opened the larger door while closing the smaller door with his tail. A vast room was revealed. They walked in trying to take it all in. He closed the door behind them.
A small yellow lantern hung above a table covered with a white linen. A high backed plush red velvet chair sat on one side. Two three legged stools sat opposite. A low buffet and some leather cases were between. There was a haze in the air that carried that strange fragrance but there was the tarnish of a thousand scents; herbs, chymicals, musk, bourbon, menthol, kerosene, lavender, cedar, perique, metal, boudin blood sausage, lightning. The monkey ambled across to a nook in the room, hopped up onto an arm chair, picked up a book, opened it plucking the bookmark out and tucking it in his fez with his tail as he began thoughtfully reading.
A ceiling lost in shadows and dramatic lighting from sconces, braziers, candles and lamps placed in themed altars. All water, turtles, gators and mother themes to the north. Stallions, phoenixes and fire to the south. To the west, metals, lots of large cauldrons, an iron maiden, a suit of fine enameled plate armour, weapons and tools all piled haphazardly. Finally, to the east, from whence they entered, wooden objects both practical and aesthetic, as well as, plenty of raw timber, bundles of twigs and wicker baskets with lids were stacked about. Surrounding and pulling it all together were simple wooden shelves stacked with carefully labeled and evenly spaced jars, bottles, numerous skulls of many creatures, bundles of feathers, dried critters, an astrolabe, and other witchy kind of stuff.
Excepting the metal side, the place was remarkably tidy and organized. A magnificent life like carving of a woman with almond shaped eyes and dainty features was formed from a singular cherry tree with its branches her hair greeted them directly creating a bit of a foyer. There was a low wooden bench with an ornate spiralling rug in front.
Pan refused to come in. Oddly, Emmy didn’t feel fear coming from him. It was just like, this is a place I don’t go.
“Please remove your shoes. I’m just preparing some tea.” An elderly woman’s voice came from somewhere. They sat and did so. Then Emmylou saw the books. A narrow wood door was slightly open into a room. A library. A small but well-stocked library as the bookshelves went high. The door suddenly closed.
She caught the monkey looking at her shrewdly. Looking away as soon as she looked at him. He was puffing on a cigarillo held by his tail and absently twirling a snifter of brandy as he refocused on his book. She looked away. Then she quickly looked back. Again he was looking and looked away quickly. They repeated this a few times. Until the monkey just stared with a look that seemed to be pity.
She came out of somewhere with a tea set on a tray. The venerable woman with white hair moved like and had the posture of a young woman. She nodded towards the table and stools as she headed to them. They went over and sat down. Other than being old and wrinkly, she was not what Emmylou had expected. She wore a simple well-worn woolen dress and a modest pair of pearl earrings. That was it. Even her feet were bare. After setting the tray on the buffet and pouring tea for the three of them, she sat and looked at them with pale, soul searching yet detached eyes. She then focused in on Emmy, holding her gaze. Emmy knew that Madame Fem knew she was a witch and she knew that Madame Fem knew that Emmy knew that she knew. Emmy hoped she was holding as good a poker face as the fortune teller was.
“So, ladies, what will it be today?” With a long pause she gazed into their souls then spoke again, “How deep are we going?”
Something about the last question made Emmy nervous, like she wanted to crawl out of herself. Her spine tingled. She thought about the bouquet protecting her. Wait, what if Fem knew she had it in her basket? What if that set Fem off? Had she made some great offense already? “All the way down!” Doti enthusiastically stated much louder than necessary. Madame Fem seemed to not notice, whilst, from across the room, the monkey watched Doti closely in absolute stillness.
“Very well, young woman. That is an impossible journey. There is no bottom. Just as, there is no top. However, there are places and spaces with in IT ALL that can be beneficial to visit. These spaces, I may add, may be inside you, outside you, both inside and outside you or neither inside nor outside you. I know its confusing and seems a bunch marfuffle, buuutt…that’s how it works. So, a general reading then?” she gave Doti a ‘no bullshit’ look. “Okay! Then can I ask questions?” Doti chirped enthusiastically in despite being a bit horn-swaggled from the crone’s verbal twirling.
“Of course, dear, you can always ask questions.” She paused and thought. “Actually, in your case, I am going to reserve the right to refuse.” The old woman drawled. “Palms.”
Doti put her hands onto the table. Madame Fem rummaged in a gator skin case for a few items that she placed on the table. She shook a simple shaker of white powder over Doti’s hands. Then blew it off, lifted up her hand flipped it over three times and asked Doti her birthday. “Lion’smoon 20th, I’m a Lion.”
“Yes, yes, a proud momma of a pride, a Lioness.” The old lady mumbled.
Fem extrapolated clues from Doti’s palms and her astrology. She was no nonsense, insightful and wise. She helped Doti allow herself to resolve a few things about life too petty to mention. Emmy could see it was basic archetype therapy and it was well done. By the end she was a bit jealous and eager for her turn. Emmy noticed the lady was long in the tooth, but the teeth were strong and in full attendance. This woman had at least discovered means for health into old age. Some say that a witch being barren is why they reportedly live very long lives.
“So, your cards now?” Fem asked Doti. Emmylou felt disappointed that she was not getting ‘treatment’ and was about to assert herself when Doti spoke up in reaction to her empathy with Emmylou.
“I think Emsy wants a spin.”
“Dooo Yooo?” Fem drawled with a raised eyebrow and a deadly serious look.
Emmy swallowed. “Yes, well yes, I really liked what you did. What I saw you do…”
The old lady gave a dry laugh and leaned in close whispering, “I will do you a favour little one. I will share something that might keep you alive a bit longer.” She came in closer with the faintest of a whisper. “If you are a witch, never let a witch you don’t know very, very well read your palms, touch your familiar or brush your hair. I am guessing there is much more you do not know. That, could be very dangerous in the real world.” She leaned back with one raised brow and an inquisitive look.
This made Emmylou feel tiny and foolish on top of her uneasiness. “Well…do you?” she asked again. Emmy couldn’t bring a coherent thought to words. Fem sat looking and likely had a good idea where Emmy was at in her thoughts.
“Ol’ Scratchy!” Fem barked to her side, startling the two maidens. “Take this one” she gestured with her head towards Doti. “down to the parlour for some vittles.” Without looking up from his book the monkey, Ol’ Scratchy, used his tail to slowly butt his cigarillo out then draw out the bookmark from his fez. He began to turn the page. Obviously, what he was reading was engrossing.
“Dammit, Scratch! Now!” she snapped. He huffed, sipped his brandy, mumbled something, put the book down, jumped off the stuffed arm chair and with a slouching saunter moved over to Doti. Doti and Emmy shared a brief look of support for each of the other’s fear and exhilaration. Ol’ Scratchy proffered his hand, which Doti took, and led the wee woman away.
Once they were out of the room, Madame Fem spoke as she tidied her instruments on the table.
“I see a fighter in front of me. No one gets scars like that any other way. Your stance. Your perceptiveness. One needs only look and watch you to understand this.
In case you have ideas, I don’t want another apprentice right now. Not sure if the guild would even let me. I haven’t been to the last few meetings and the way things are changing around here, who knows.
I have further advice, my dear, if you plan on working in this town you best join the guild. If you are just travelling through, which we suspect you are, don’t be working any spells or hexes either. Them kinds doing such can disappear. Old Fem, she stays outta peoples’ business, doesn’t go that route. Some of us though. Well, let’s just say you have been warned.”
After pouring the last of the jasmine tea into Emmy’s cup she got up and began putting away her tools. “If you do want to join the guild, and it is not without it perks as well as obligations, you will need to be vetted first. Then you will have to pledge to a coven, there are three in town. To join a coven, you would need a sponsor. Getting a sponsor depends on your skill, merit, personality and for some buffoons, appearance. Shall I arrange for you to be vetted?”
“I would like to think on all that, actually.” Emmy replied poker faced.
“Probably wise. While you are here, I can still do a card reading for you, if you like.” The matron looked neutral about it, like this was a consolation prize.
After what she had said earlier; was this already a test of trust or was it a test of shrewdness? Or maybe she was being honest. She seemed nice enough. Or did she want information? Worse, did she mean harm? Emmylou stopped as she was draining her tea, “Sure, why not.”
“What answers do you seek?” the crone asked pulling out a blocky wrap of purple cloth tied with a long thin braid of blond hair and unwrapped a well-used stack of thin ivory cards.”
“I seek to find my leader, Lyrick Lastat.”
“Very well a vignette for a lost person. A person I have actually met, long ago.
She has met him? This left Emmy stunned. Fem watched and drank in the impact.
“But first payment.” Fem clarified.