Witch, Wolf, Woods

CHAPTER 9: THE NECKLACE

Katja's workroom was an odd little room that jutted out at the back of the castle, appearing to have been added as an afterthought, and built so it was only connected to the castle on one side, standing on tall stilts that were, thankfully, sturdier than they looked.

The room boasted two large windows opposite from one another, and while they were a luxury, to be sure, they also created a cross breeze, which was necessary when working with things that smoked or smelled foul after being heated.

In fact, Katja still suspected the real reason she'd been given the workroom was less about the generosity of the elder witches and more about the complaints of those who lived near her, unhappy with the smells emanating from her bedroom or the occasional smelter that caught fire and filled the hallway with eye-watering black smoke.

Reaching her workroom, Katja pressed her palm against the heavy wooden door, feeling the warmth of the spells she kept there sweeping over her skin. If she closed her eyes, she could see the individual marks that, when pieced together, created the spells for locking and privacy.

While she didn't think most witches would purposefully intrude into her workspace, she also wouldn't put it past some of the crueler girls to attempt to ruin anything they knew she cared about. Plus, many of the materials inside were dangerous, capable of burning someone or starting a fire or possibly even causing an explosion. It didn't hurt to be cautious.

The door flickered ever so slightly, acknowledging her right to enter, and she opened it with a loud creak and slipped inside, closing it firmly behind her and letting out the breath she was almost always holding unless she was alone. Here, as in her bedroom, she could be herself without fear of judgement, and she gazed around with quiet pride at her cherished space.

The far back wall featured a built-in counter running the entire length of the room. A sink that more accurately resembled a feeding trough took up part of the counter, and the space above was fitted with rows of large, open shelves, some so high they required Katja to use a stepladder to reach them.

The right side of the room featured a window and one of Katja's most prized possessions—an apothecary cabinet almost as tall as she was featuring row after row of tiny, individual drawers, useful for holding all the various small odds and ends necessary for jewelry-making.

Next to that, a wardrobe stood in the right corner, holding an extra sweater for the days when the weather was especially chilly, as well as Katja's metal-working gloves. The gloves had been fashioned specially by the Hexen seamstresses, imbued with spells for protecting her hands from the heat required for melting different metals, and while she didn't completely understand how they worked, she was grateful for them, nonetheless.

The left-hand side of the room featured the second window, as well as an array of hooks Katja used to hang her completed or in-progress creations on. There was also a small, free-standing fireplace in the left corner, nice for heating the room in winter, but also providing the necessary source of heat for melting the smaller amounts of metal used in creating jewelry.

Opening the cloth napkin and pairing chunks of bread with the thick cheese, Katja listened to the sound of snow creaking outside as birds called to one another and laughter drifted upwards from somewhere nearby, probably the orchard.

While most of the other Hexen became disenchanted with the cold after the first or second snowfall, Katja loved winter. She loved the feel of snow beneath her boots and how gusts of wind whipped her hair across her face, trying to steal her breath. She loved the serenity to be found during a snowfall, when nothing moved except the flakes drifting down from the low-hanging clouds, making everything they touched glisten with a pristine frostiness.