The Stargazers Read Free Page A

Oleander’s jade eyes turned on Aster and a familiar pit of dread yawned open in the younger girl's belly.
    “There she is. Miss Prettyface, my next favorite idiot in the entire world. Late as usual.” She tossed Aster a bag of blue gentiana flowers to grind into a paste, which would eventually be added to a potion to treat skin fungal ailments. “You think family is exempt from having to show up to work on time, do you?” In a whirl of black cloak, Oleander turned toward the row of cauldrons that lined the back wall, and Aster trudged toward her usual station, tossing the bag of flowers beside the old stone mortar. Her shoulders were already aching just thinking about the task ahead.
    “I was at the market getting your chocolate. I don’t see that I’m late, Aunt.”
    The witch continued as if Aster hadn’t spoken. “Or maybe it's because you're leaving tomorrow, and you deserve special treatment. Your problem is you think you’re too good for hard work, like the rest of this useless family. But you and I are only ones with straight backs, at least for now. You have no excuse for sloth.”
    “Yes, Aunt.” Aster hoped the words had come out bathed with a satisfactory amount of syrup.
    “Or I suppose you’d rather be flitting around in bubbles, gifting ruby red slippers to lost little girls, like they do in that silly story they love so much over in that other world.”
    “I don't know this story you speak of, Aunt.” She did, of course. Ellemire even had its own satire of the story called the Warlock of Nodd. But it was just bait Aster refused to take.
    “Well, I have fifty orders of fungal tonic to fill this morning, and even daft twits such as you should know we have no time to waste.” 
    Aster said nothing and set about her work. Oleander would only get worse if they ate up even more of her precious time by arguing. Every witch had one special ability, but Oleander had two: making potions and making misery. Aster decided she was only going to focus on the potions. It was her last day in Ellemire and she'd already had one breakdown. Time to make the best of what was left.
    “I’m so excited about your party tonight,” Oleander said. She vigorously stirred something that smelled like rotting feces. “Maybe after you’re gone, I’ll hire a girl who can hold more than a single thought in her airy head. Or crush those bloody flowers a little faster. Get a move on.”
    Aster focused on her mortar in silence as she imagined grinding her aunt’s face into the purple muck.
     

- 2 -
    After the day’s potion making, Aster trudged back to the house with purple hands and an aching jaw from gritting her teeth. Nanny Lily was in the kitchen making preparations for tomorrow's feast, or rather, she was directing Dahlia and Holly to perform the duties she no longer could. A mixture of delicious smells, from herbs and celery to baking bread, swirled about the room, and Aster spied an enormous cake being assembled on the counter by the window. She didn't think she'd have the appetite to eat, but her stomach grumbled.
    “Can I help with anything?” she asked.
    Nanny Lily shooed her away. “Nay, child! Tis enough you went to the market. You have plenty of your own work to do upstairs, I wager.”
    Ah yes. Packing and sorting. She would carry but a small bag through the Door. The rest was set to burn on the bonfire. “I suppose I do.”
    “ No suppose about it, Missy. It must be done.” Nanny Lily's voice was brittle and low, but it carried far in the close quarters.
    “I will be up in a bit to help you,” Dahlia called.
    “Yes, Mother.” Aster thought of all the stuffed animals still lying on her bed. They had been her only friends in life, and the thought of rendering them to ash put a lump in her throat as she made her way up the narrow stairs to her room.
    She had two piles going on her bed: things to take and things to burn. The burn pile was much bigger. She was contemplating a suitable hiding place