never gratified.
And so a few days turned into weeks. Weeks became months. The soldiers finished their fort, and the civilians' tents transformed into more permanent constructions. And the camp became a respectable settlement.
I kept my tent and told myself (and Newt) that we would start back on our road to vengeance soon. But we lingered, living as part, yet apart, from the mortals. And the days came and went.
I KNEW OF SUNRISE the prostitute. Everyone did. She was the most beautiful woman in the settlement, the Captain's favorite whore. She'd been the only one to know I was a witch without being told, and she'd discovered my secret very quickly.
She first visited me soon after my arrival to request treatment for a rash of the Captain's. He didn't want to be seen coming to me himself I mixed together a salve while she waited.
'Why do you hide it?' she'd finally asked on her third visit.
'I beg your pardon.'
'Your beauty. Why do you hide it?'
I checked myself, but I looked as lumpy and dirty as I always did.
'You can't really disguise it,' Sunrise said. 'You can rub that grime on your face and hobble about and bury yourself beneath a mountain of soiled gowns and tattered frocks, but it's still there to see. Not that many would. Most only see what they expect.'
'You won't tell, will you?'
'Why would I? I do very well as the prettiest here.'
'I'm a witch, not a prostitute.'
'And believe me, I'm grateful. I'm not used to competition.'
I finished mixing the salve and sent her on her way. Newt, who sat sullenly in the corner, spoke.
'You should kill her.'
My broom disagreed and stopped sweeping the dirt long enough to twirl, its equivalent to an enthusiastic shake of the head.
'She promised not to tell,' I replied.
'You can't trust people. Safer to just kill her. I can make it look like an accident, if that's what you're worried about.'
My broom smacked him on the bottom. He snapped at it. They whirled about. Newt muttered curses. The broom shook and hopped.
'Enough of that.'
He grumbled. 'He started it.'
The broom jumped in a minor tantrum. It had decided early into its animation that it was a 'she.' I grabbed her by her handle and began to sweep. It always calmed her and after a few seconds, she kept at it all by herself.
'You should kill her, mistress.'
'Perhaps, but I don't think I will.'
Newt went back to the corner to sulk. My broom swept with jaunty joy.
Thus began my friendship with Sunrise the prostitute. She would come by my tent every three days or so. At first, to collect the Captain's salve, then simply to chat. She reminded me of Ghastly Edna in many ways. She was observant, quietly wise, gifted with a view of the world neither sanguine nor cynical but somewhere between. I liked her very much. As did my broom. And Gwurm. And Newt as well, though he would never cease moping long enough to admit it. He even started speaking in front of her, and one crisp evening, he found himself in a familiar argument.
'And how many miles do you reckon an active volcano to be worth?' she posed.
'It's not a technical subject. It's not as if Fate itself is keeping a tally. Not an exact one anyway.'
'Of course not. But you must have a general figure in mind.'
'That's not my point.'
'Seventy miles?'
Newt threw up his wings. 'Why do I even bother?'
'Why indeed,' I replied, taking a seat on the bench beside Sunrise.
He strolled back into the tent. I handed Sunrise a cup of hot tea brewed especially for her. I didn't drink tea. It disagreed with my digestion.
'You shouldn't tease him like that,' I said.
'Why shouldn't I? Gwurm gets to. You get to. Even your broom gets to. It's only fair I take my turn.'
'True.'
She sipped her tea. 'Have you given any thought to your name?'
'Yes. I've decided I don't need one.'
We'd had this disagreement several times. My parents had neglected to name their accursed daughter, and to Ghastly Edna, I had always been 'dear,' or 'child,' or 'girl.' The people of Fort Stalwart managed 'hag' or 'crone.' There never was any confusion, and I rather liked not having a proper name. It seemed very witchful.
'Everyone needs a name.'
'Not everyone.'
'Your duck has a name. Your troll has a name.'
'My broom doesn't.'
'Yes, she does. Isn't that right, Penelope?' My broom floated over and leaned against Sunrise's shoulder. 'I know it isn't a very good name for a witch's broom, but she picked it.'
I had no objection to naming my broom as this too seemed very witchful.
Two soldiers approached my tent. I knew from the sheepish glint in the younger one's eyes why they were here. My inner ghoul found little appetizing about the old man, but of the youth it whispered, 'Not quite ripe yet, but in another year or two, a savory feast.'
The older soldier pushed his charge toward Sunrise. The boy couldn't look her in the eyes. He stared at his boots and stammered.
Sunrise smiled in that patient, knowing way of hers. The way Ghastly Edna would have smiled had she been a prostitute.
The older soldier chuckled. 'Vertis was wondering if maybe he might have the pleasure of your company, miss.'
'Is that so, Vertis?'
The youth nodded.
'He's been saving for two months, miss. All the other men said he should find a cheaper woman, but he's got his mind set.'
'Such a compliment from a fine, strapping lad. I'm flattered.'
Sunrise willed a soft blush. She could will herself to glow too in a way that I might duplicate with magic. Only hers was nothing so mundane as magic, but natural talent and practice.
Vertis giggled like a child.
She took his money and told him to meet her in her cabin in ten minutes. The older soldier thanked her, and they left.
Sunrise jangled the coins in her hands.
'What is it like?' I asked, surprising even myself. I'd been pondering the question for some time.
'That all depends. When it's done right, it's difficult to describe. You could always find out for yourself. Any man in that camp would hack off a limb to lay with you if you took off that outfit.'
'I can't do that.'
'Why not?'
I began, 'A good witch ...'
'Not that again. I don't believe it. I would think carnal impulses were allowed under your code.'
'I'm afraid of what I might do,' I admitted.
'The curse? I suppose that's justified. Although I think you could find a man willing to take the risk for a
