The aura of magic pulsed out from Morganne’s palms touched the first few rows of people gathered around her then, like the beings looking on were conductors, spread even further past them growing into the thin of the crowd toward the back. The sunbeams that cascaded down upon the scene on the Zënë street corner were caught in the magic and sent auroras shimmering in every color between the people. Several children in the crowd cried with joy and set to dancing in the little ring around the Witch Morganne; the dust that was kicked up from their frivolity seemingly turned to gold dust, shimmering in motes through the air and added to the spectacle.
Morganne’s own laugh bubbled up and her smile touched her eyes as she watched the children. She glanced back over her shoulder to look at her companion – Moriarty, who wasn’t paying attention, judging by his mouth full of alfalfa. She rolled her eyes and then wiggled her fingertips in a wave to continue the show. It continued on for several more minutes as children continued to play and then the crowd thinned and Morganne could feel the power wane.
“Thank you ladies and gentlemen,” she raised her voice and moved her fingers again in an intricate little motion, dispersing the magic and returning the energies to whence she’d summoned them. “For your time and attention, a Witch could not ask for more.”
Applause answered her and several of the children ran up to her and clutched her skirts, begging her to do it again. Morganne laughed and cradled their chins in her hands, still warm to the touch from the energies she’d channeled.
“Oh, you sweet things, the energy has gone – we need to give them some time to restore themselves, understand? There’s a limit to all things, even magic,” she explained to them, but as the disappointment washed over their little faces, her eyes darted up to their parents.
“However, I do have a little something that you could recreate it with at home,” the Witch told them and the children gasped. From the pocket of her skirt she produced several crystals, each appearing to hold the shimmering auroras within them. “Charge these in the sun for a day and it’ll give you just as long of a play time.”
The children took the crystals as new treasures and their parents approached with payment for the crystals – one gold each. She graciously accepted the money and quickly pocketed it where the crystals had been. The last of the crowd she’d gathered dispersed and she picked up the little collection basin she’d set out, filled with coppers and a stray silver. Morganne’s eyes wandered over the flyer, discarded by some passerby and that had wound out now by her basin, which had brought her here in the first place. Sense told Morganne she should start heading over to the Turf and Feather, so she did.
The Witch guided Moriarty and her wagon through Zënë, enjoying the sights around her on the bustling trading avenues as she went, until she found a place near the specified pub to leave the horse and wagon. She paid the stall fee and stroked Moriarty under the chin as she left, making him promise to behave himself with a stern little look, which he chuffed and at then buried his muzzle in the complimentary trough of hay.
Around the corner laid the Turf and Feather and it didn’t take long to find herself within. She glanced around briefly but her attention fell on the hollowed man standing at the bar with two others. Interest piqued, Morganne approached and dealt him a polite smile, but it was one that couldn’t hide her interest.
“Hello! Now, you might mind my saying, but,” Morganne brushed her red locks back off her shoulder as she cast her gaze and smile briefly and courteously to the two Duende standing with him, then focusing back on him. “You are a surprising sight to behold.”
She tucked her thumb against the side of her palm and then slid her index finger down along her thumb and opened it to create a circle, which she lifted to her eye and she peered at him through. With this, Morganne could see the magic woven around the hollowed man and she barely contained her wince.
“That, my dear, is… Well, a doozy…” Morganne commented, almost breathlessly. She pulled herself up onto a barstool and crossed one leg over the other, leaning toward him. “Though, I am up to something that may help your little…” She made a gesture at him with her fingers, “Issue.”
Morganne bobbed her foot in the air and glanced briefly at the Duende pair, “Have you seen those flyers? For Ronnie and Andy and that mission for the Lake?”