The veiled witch glanced at Nidra’s three vials as she stirred herbs into a bubbling pot over a brazier. “No, that should be sufficient.”

By the scent of clover and lilies wafting from the pot, Nidra suspected the liquid was unicorn water. With the mentha, thistle, and vervain the veiled witch had added, the brew was clearly for healing.

The veiled witch stirred Aislinn’s hair, blood, and tears into the brew then allowed it to boil for several minutes. She dropped two opals into the brew and clenched her hands above the pot, and the brew wicked into the opals.

Nidra drew a ragged breath. The veiled witch had used will to infuse the opals. No wonder she had such an impressive reputation! She must be a Rhiannon descendant.

The veiled witch murmured to Aislinn, “Close your eyes, please.”

Once the young woman complied, the veiled witch smeared honey over Aislinn’s eyelids then pressed an opal onto each honeyed lid. Holding her hands over Aislinn’s closed eyes, the veiled witch murmured a singsong chant in a language not even Nidra understood.

The opals began shining such an intense white that the veiled witch’s fingers glowed pink and light flared between them. Pressure built with a high-pitched whine until with an abrupt pop the light and sound ceased.

The veiled witch lowered her hands. “Open your eyes, please.”

The honey and opal evaporated from her eyelids, Aislinn opened her eyes and gasped. “I can see!”

Although her young neighbor was overjoyed, Nidra swallowed and eyed the veiled witch. What magical price had Aislinn paid for her sight? It must be great. And why had the veiled witch performed such powerful magic in front of a witch she didn’t know? A witch who could flaunt such power was dangerous indeed.

“Come, Aislinn, I shall take you home,” Nidra murmured. She bowed to the veiled witch then led the bounding Aislinn from the witch shop.

“I suppose I still need you to escort me. Even though I can see, I have no inkling of the way home.” Aislinn twirled her superfluous cane as they began down the street. She exclaimed over the people walking beside them, the color of the shop signs, and the other ordinary sights they passed on the way back.

Aislinn’s ebullience gradually eased Nidra’s concern over the spell. The young woman would doubtless accept the magical price. By the time they reached Aislinn’s house, Nidra was happy to accept Aislinn’s invitation inside.

Aislinn’s mother swarmed over her errant daughter as soon as Nidra and Aislinn arrived then began crying when Aislinn tossed her cane aside and explained she could now see.

As his wife wiped away her tears, Aislinn’s father sent for sparkling wine to celebrate.

While sipping her sparkling wine, Nidra noticed Aislinn eyeing her flute askance. Nidra sidled up to the young woman. “Is something wrong?”

Aislinn murmured, “Does this sparkling wine taste bland to you?”

Nidra blinked in surprise. “No…”

“Because I cannot taste it at all.” Aislinn sniffed her flute. “Or smell it.”

Suspecting she knew why, Nidra asked, “You could taste and smell earlier, correct?”

Aislinn inclined her head.

Nidra explained, “I think your sense of taste and smell might be the price you paid for your sight.”

Aislinn nodded and sipped her sparkling wine. “I suppose I shall become accustomed. Taste and smell are a small price to pay.”

After finishing her sparkling wine, Nidra returned to her shop and resumed her afternoon nap, soon forgetting about formerly blind neighbors and the cost of magical spells in the sweet embrace of sleep.