“Did I ever tell you that a crown made of gundermann is supposed to be a cure for witchcraft?” said Alisz, carefully examining the plant Lilli was holding before her. Alisz liked to sketch in nature, with the sun and wind sending their blessing. Usually Lilli enjoyed watching her work, but today was different. Somewhere through the thick growth of trees, a babbling brook was calling out to her.
“Not another foolish superstition,” said Lilli. Over the years, Alisz had told her about dozens of plants capable of curing witchcraft. Some sounded so silly that Lilli couldn’t help laughing. There was no such thing as witches. Everyone should know that. She knew that from the first day she met Alisz.
“And a sure cure at that,” added Alisz. “But such ignorance will not discourage me from adding gundermann to the book. Despite all that, it has many wonderful uses, none of which is to ward off evil. However, I will make a note of that, for interest’s sake if nothing else. Someday, someone might want to know how foolish people once were. Now, this next bit of information should cheer you—gundermann is also known as catsfoot.”
“Catsfoot is a fun name,” laughed Lilli.
“Miau! I thought you would like that,” said Alisz, smiling as she playfully clawed the air like a cat. “Now hold it steady, wiggly worm.” Alisz kneeled in closer to study the small round leaves and purple flowers quivering between Lilli’s pinched fingers.
“It is not me,” said Lilli, chasing after a stray lock of hair that was dancing across her face. “There is too much wind today.” The breeze continued to shift the herb she was holding out for Alisz to examine.
“The keeper of the winds is playing games with you,” laughed Alisz. “Come closer. You are way too high. You are sprouting up like a fireweed these days.” It was true. Not long ago, Mutter had lengthened Lilli’s tunic again.
“You hold it,” said Lilli, pushing the plant toward Alisz.
“I cannot draw and hold it at the same time, silly.”
Lilli looked over her shoulder. “The brook makes wonderful music,” she said. The sound was like laughter. She was anxious to discover which direction it flowed and if there were any creatures living along its banks. Alisz said it would be a day of discovery. The Goddess had come to her in a dream and told her so. But so far Lilli had not discovered a thing.
“I am still looking,” said Alisz. “I need to understand how the leaves and flowers grow in relation to one another. The flowers are so delicate. The sketch needs to be exact, otherwise whoever owns this book in the future will not be able to recognize gundermann from chamomile. You are just too curious to stand still. That is all.”
“The book will always belong to you,” said Lilli. Alisz often studied the pages in her book for hours when looking for a remedy. There were so many words, so many recipes and sketches. Even Alisz, with all of her wisdom and knowledge, would not be able to remember it all without help from the book.
“Life is filled with mystery, my dear Lilli. There is much for you to see, much to experience. We never know what will come our way, how circumstances could quickly put us on a different path. But we must stay open to all possibilities,” said Alisz.
Settling back onto the grass, Alisz reached for the book and turned to an empty page. Carefully dipping the quill into the ink, she touched it to the thin parchment. With a steady hand, she began making fine strokes on the page. The tip glided across the parchment. Lilli never grew tired of watching Alisz sketch. She never made mistakes. Her drawings were flawless, each curve of a leaf, every stem and vein and flowerhead shaped perfectly. She would study a plant for a long time before drawing it in her book.
Alisz looked up at Lilli and gently fanned the page, waiting for the ink to dry. “Go, inquisitive little worm. Explore to your heart’s content,” she said. Pulling the gundermann from Lilli’s fingers, she quickly ate it. Alisz never wasted the gifts the Earth Goddess provided.
“Are you sure?” said Lilli. She did not want to appear too anxious.
“I want to transcribe these things onto the page beneath my drawing, and then I will join you. Run along, but do not go far.”
Somewhere through the hardwood trees, the burbling brook called out to Lilli. She hurried through the undergrowth to explore. Stopping beside the water’s edge, she wondered what creatures lived beneath the surface. She followed the brook down to where it grew wider. Two rocks jutting out of the water would put her closer to where the water was deepest. Perhaps she could play with her reflection if she were farther away from the shaded shoreline. Pulling her dress up to her knees, she hopped out onto the rocks. Her reflection was waiting for her in the slow current, and she waved. The water gurgled and flowed. Lilli became caught up in its musical song.
“Lilli! Come away from there. You are too close!” Lilli turned at the sound of Alisz’s voice, and her foot slipped from the mossy rock. Her arms flailed outward as she struggled to keep from falling. Alisz let out a scream and raced toward the brook just as Lilli plunged into the water. She was breathing heavily when she reached Lilli, who was now climbing out onto dry land. Grabbing fast to Lilli, she pulled her close.
“You had me near frightened to death,” she said, her chest heaving.
“I am fine, Alisz. Truly. The water was not deep.” Lilli looked up into Alisz’s terrified eyes. Alisz had once told her of the dream she used to have as a child, where she was an old man out fishing on the ocean. A large and powerful wave swelled up over the boat and she was swept away. “And to this day, my fear of water runs deep,” Alisz had said. It was difficult for Lilli to picture Alisz as an old man. Such a strange story, but there were many strange things about Alisz. It was what Lilli loved most about her, and also why she must not speak of these things to Vater. He accepted Alisz’s work as a midwife and healer…but there was so much more about Alisz, things she knew Vater would not approve of.
Alisz took some cleansing breaths as she clutched fast to Lilli. When she had finally gained her composure, her expression softened. She looked down at Lilli, soaked with water.
“Oh dear. You do look a fright,” she said and suddenly burst into laughter.
Lilli moved away from Alisz. “Then you are not angry?” she said. She shouldn’t have wandered so far; Alisz had warned her not to.
“How could I be angry with you, dear, sweet lily-of-the-valley? Come, let us collect our things. It is time to go home.”