|
"Come hither then my young po-et On this night you are most well met For thy words I'll e'er be in thy debt." |
"Excuse me?" queried Amanda. "A poet? Are you referencing me?"
|
"You sing like a Greek chorus Exchanging verse before us 'Though your work's not up to Horace." |
"Horace was Roman," said Amanda matter-of-factly. Who possessed this strange yet beautiful voice which dared to call out to her from the darkness, first elevating Amanda to the ranks of ancient bards and then criticizing her work in the very next breath?
|
"Right you are my child Do come in from Twilight's wild And rest thee here a while." |
As this last verse was spoken, the darkness ahead of Amanda evaporated, and Amanda found herself stepping forward into a beautiful clearing. The chill of the Twilight Tanglewood was gone from this place, which sported soft grasses, fragrant blossoms and bright beams of radiant sunlight which spread their warmth throughout the magical clearing. When Amanda looked behind her, she found that she could no longer see the dark tunnel through which she had been travelling. Had she stepped through another portal? It was impossible to tell exactly what had happened in the blackness through which she had just come.
As Amanda's eyes adjusted to the bright light of the clearing, she saw for the the first time the woman who had called out to her. Leaning back against a tall oak tree, sipping a long glass of apricot mead, sat a magnificent and imposing woman with fire-red hair. Surely the Winsome Witch.