Chapter 1

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It was a beautiful morning, and a young woman walked along a path through a field with a basket in her hand. It was filled with various herbs. As she walked, a crow flew above her head, and swooped downwards.

"Sabin!" she exclaimed. The crow landed on her shoulder.

"Hello, my precious," she cooed to the bird. "I'm afraid that I've got no food for you here. Come back to the cottage with me and I'll feed you there."

The crow seemed to agree, and continued to ride on her shoulder. Soon a plain cottage came into view as she walked around the trees. There were chickens pecking along the ground in the yard and along the drive that lead away from the house. It appeared a peaceful scene.

Along the drive walked another young woman. The visitor had silky, streaming long hair down her back and a form that most women would envy. She walked cautiously, as if she were not supposed to be there. Upon seeing the guest, the crow flew up into the air and disappeared into the trees, as if to keep watch.

The woman on the drive spied the woman with the basket. With a look over her shoulder, she marched directly over, and said, "Anya?"

"Can I help you, Marjorie?" Anya asked, looking at the woman who had sought her out and drove away her crow. Marjorie was the wife of the butcher and normally she did not give Anya the slightest notice. Anya wondered what had brought the woman to the cottage.

"Yes," agreed Marjorie. Her eyes shifted around briefly; clearly concerned someone might see her talking to Anya.

Anya ignored the insult. "Why don't you come inside?" she offered kindly.

"Thank you," Marjorie said automatically. Anya had expected to be refused. She led the way inside, and offered Marjorie a chair.

"And what was it you were hoping that I could do for you?" Anya prompted.

Marjorie was fidgeting, which was a far cry from the overconfident beauty she normally was. "I think that my husband is interested in another woman," she confessed, obviously hating to admit her fears.

Anya was hardly surprised. The butcher's name was Heath. He had an attractive form and roving eyes which were a poorly hidden secret. In the village, only Marjorie normally seemed immune to the knowledge of his infidelity. Anya suddenly felt a bit sorry for her. She decided she would help, if she was able to.

Marjorie spoke at a near whisper. "Can you help me make him love me again?"

Anya was not certain that the woman's shallow husband had ever loved the beauty sitting before her for anything but her looks. "I'm afraid that I don't have the power to change someone's feelings," she said softly.

"But aren't there ways? Like... love potions? Can you make those?" Marjorie asked, with the fake pleading look she generally used to get her way.

"I can make a love potion, but it won't make him love you."

Marjorie frowned. "I'll pay for it."

Anya certainly needed the money, but she would not trick Marjorie to get it. "A love potion only inspires feelings that seem to be love for a certain amount of time, until it wears off."

"So if I had many of these potions, he would continue to love me?" Marjorie smiled at the idea.

"He would feel that he loved you while the potion remained in effect. Afterwards he might look more kindly on you if his memories of the time are positive. Or he may be furious and feel betrayed, if he realizes that you used a potion upon him," Anya cautioned.

Marjorie clearly was not interested in thinking of the cautious variety. "How much would enough of these potions to last a week cost?"

Anya sighed. The charm was simple, but finding the ingredients would likely be more trouble than Marjorie could afford. There was also a strong possibility that matters would end badly, which would likely make Anya's life more difficult. She already had enough problems, but...

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