Mnou didn't get much sleep that night. One reason was the storm angrily battering the stone walls of the cottage. But that wasn't the main reason. Her mind was restlessly churning with the events of the past few days. It seemed almost absurd to her that she was much more nervous about confronting Esme—whom she planned to visit first thing in the morning—than about the goddess who had tried to steal her body. The human mind is truly a strange thing, she thought as thunder rumbled nearby. She felt utterly exhausted yet sleep still wouldn't come. She rolled onto her left side and tried to clear her mind, hoping to get at least a little rest. It took a while, but finally she felt herself slowly slipping into that bottomless realm of dreams and sleep.
Someone knocked urgently on the door.
The witch sat up abruptly. She watched the darkness-filled room alertly and listened. Was it thunder, or had someone really knocked? Who could it possibly be at this hour? Could it... could it be the goddess again?
The banging on the oak door came again.
This time Mnou didn't hesitate. She quickly jumped out from under the covers and grabbed the staff leaning beside the bed. She pressed herself close to the door, trying to decide how to react. In the end, she chose to simply ask.
"Who's there?!"
Instead of a reply, another knock came right by the witch's ear. She flinched. Did they ignore me on purpose, or just not hear me over all the noise outside? She couldn't wait any longer. Firmly gripping her staff, she turned the key and cracked the door open.
But the night visitor had been leaning on the door, and it swung open wide as they collapsed into Mnou's arms. Startled and drenched, Mnou carefully leaned them against the doorframe. It was still dark out, so she couldn't tell who the strange visitor was. Then she noticed something black, crumpled, and soaking wet lying on the threshold. She grabbed it and immediately realized what she was holding. A witch's hat.
She hastily brushed the limp hair from the seated figure's face to be sure, because she could hardly believe her eyes.
"Esme? Esme! What on earth are you doing here?" Mnou exclaimed in shock, unable to take her eyes off the girl.
"Master," a shy smile played on Esme's lips, "I wanted to see you. I couldn't sleep at all. So, I set out before dawn. And then this terrible downpour started on the way."
"You scared me half to death! And Ruth must be worried sick too," the witch said breathlessly, but she couldn't think about anything except how happy she was to see her again.
"I'm sorry. I'm causing trouble again, aren't I?"
Only now did Mnou realize how weak Esme's voice was and how she was shaking all over. She placed a hand gently on her forehead. She felt a pulsing heat on the back of her hand. Horrified, she gasped and touched both her cheeks to make sure. The room was starting to brighten with the first rays of the new day. Tears almost welled up in Mnou's eyes as she looked at the miserable little girl emerging from the veil of night.
She was soaked from head to toe. Her hair and clothes clung to her uncomfortably. Her face was pale, except for her cheeks, which were flushed like ripe rosehips. Beneath her glassy eyes were dark smudges from lack of sleep.
"Esme, you're burning up! Why did you come here if you were feeling this sick!?" Mnou fretted, scooping the girl into her arms and hurrying to the bed. The wet body soaked her nightgown, but she didn't care. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest.
The girl simply nestled closer to her mistress's cool body and murmured, "I felt so awful precisely because I couldn't be here with you."
Mnou carefully laid her on the cold bed. Bit by bit, she eased her out of her blouse and pieces of clothing. It took time. Esme was so lethargic that she could hardly help. Once she was finally undressed, Mnou had to dry her off from the icy water that still clung to her. By then, the morning sun was shining brightly as Esme lay down under the thick blanket and buried her feverish head into the pillow. It took only a moment for her to drift into restless slumber.
Mnou stood over her, watching her toss and frown in her sleep. She didn't seem to be having nice dreams. The witch couldn't even enjoy their unexpected reunion— she was frantic with worry.
The little girl slept fitfully through the whole morning. Meanwhile, Mnou constantly brewed teas and tinctures. She kept changing the cool compresses, though it seemed they weren't helping at all. Every few minutes she checked the fever, but it felt as high as ever—if not worse. When she couldn't think of anything else to do, she sat at the edge of the bed and watched over the dozing child with concern.
Around noon, Ruth arrived—beside herself with worry, nearly crying her eyes out. She was immensely relieved when she learned what had happened. Laughing, she promised she'd have to scold the girl properly once she woke up. She didn't stay long. Just before leaving, Mnou handed her a bottle of medicine she had forgotten to give her the day before.
"Master?" came a faint voice from under the covers shortly after Ruth had left. Mnou sprang from the table, where she'd been dozing restlessly, and rushed to the bedside.
"I'm all sweaty. Could I change into something dry?" the girl asked in a trembling voice.
"Of course, I'll find something right away!" The witch rummaged through the clothes chest and worriedly realized she didn't have any spare clothes. In the end, she had to resort to her own nightgown, even though Esme looked like a ghost in it. Normally, they would have both found it hilarious, but now Esme just wanted to crawl back under the covers. That alone told Mnou how sick she really must be. Mnou herself didn't feel well at all—she was tense and rigid. She helped Esme drink some herbal tea, but it was still too hot, and the girl jerked back, burning her tongue.
Mnou almost desperately realized how incompetent she was in such situations. She had never cared for a sick child. If only Ruth was here right now, she thought miserably, while Esme fortunately slipped back into sleep's embrace.
The rest of the day passed in the same regime. Mnou had far too much time on her hands and couldn't go out for fresh air, so she let herself be swept away by wandering thoughts. Most of them revolved around the sick girl—ideas of what might still help her, and now and then a terrifying thought snuck in about what might happen if the worst came to pass, and the girl didn't recover. It wouldn't be the first time something like that happened, and Mnou felt the fever was still rising. These dreadful thoughts almost drove her to madness. She felt utterly helpless. Fatigue and worry wrapped around her like a black raincloud. She didn't even realize it, but her body and mind gave in, and she began to doze.
She was awakened by screams. They crashed into her dreaming like uninvited guests. But she recovered quickly. Her first instinct was to look for an intruder. Yet the only one in the room was Esme. Mnou rushed over and realized it must have been the girl who had cried out. She was thrashing in bed, kicking and tossing her head from side to side. Between ragged, agonized gasps, she screamed:
"Yelwa! Yelwa, don't leave me here! Please. I don't want to be a witch; I want to be with you!" Her eyes darted madly beneath closed lids.
Mnou stood over her, unsure what to do. Should I wake her? She hesitated for a moment longer but couldn't bear to watch the girl suffer. She sat down beside her and gently shook her by the shoulder. No response. She tried again, a bit more firmly.
"Esme!" she called. "Esme, wake up!"
The final shout rang through the room, and the girl jolted awake from her nightmare. She panted heavily and stared at her mistress. Only then did Mnou notice the shimmering streaks of tears on her flushed cheeks.
"Are you alright?" Mnou asked, realizing in the next moment how foolish the question was.
"Y-yes, I'm fine," Esme whispered, her body still tense and cramped.
"It looked like you had an awful nightmare. If you… if you want to talk about it, I'm here."
The little witch turned her head toward the cold stone wall and wiped her tears with sniffling breaths.
"I'll make you some calming tea," Mnou said, getting up to do just that. But suddenly a hot, sweaty little hand caught her by the wrist.
"I was screaming in sleep, wasn't I?"
"Yes," Mnou confirmed, sitting back on the edge of the bed.
"I've been having that same dream again and again lately. When I was with Ruth, I woke up like this almost every night."
Mnou didn't know what to say, so she just squeezed her hand more tightly.
"Yelwa… Yelwa is the soul that resides in my staff…" Esme trailed off. She turned back to her master and tried to smile weakly. "Someday I'll tell you the whole story, but right now I just… don't feel up to it."
"Alright. And I'll tell you mine," Mnou said with a small smile of her own. She made to rise again, but the girl still held onto her.
"Master, may I ask you something?" Only her eyes peeked out from under the blanket.
"Of course. Anything," Mnou assured her.
"Could you stay here and hold my hand until I fall asleep?" Esme whispered the request and burrowed even deeper under the covers.
Mnou looked at her in surprise at first, but then she sat back down and nodded gently. She stroked the girl's damp hair.
"Of course. I'll stay as long as you need me."