Historic Fantasy Short Fiction

Witches

Sylvia drew a square on a piece of parchment.  She and Lisl gazed at it by the light of the room’s one lit candle.  In a way, Lisl thought it was silly, but she wanted desperately to become a witch.  Fourteen was too old to start over.  If she failed she would have to go back to her foster family, and be a servant all her life. Her gaze grew intense.  You will see the shape change, Sylvia had said.  When it changes, tell me what you see.  She had called this a test for mind reading, though what changing…