Page 12 of They Were Broom-Mates

When she was met with only silence, Amelie considered giving up and going back inside, but after waiting just a little longer, she was met with movement on the other side of the granite tomb.

“I usually am.” Delia’s cold tone rang across the empty space between them and nearly sent Amelie running back into the warmth of the cathedral, but instead she stood her ground.

“I brought breakfast.” Taking a tentative step inside, Amelie crossed the threshold, catching Delia’s gaze. “I left some dinner out for you last night, but it was still there this morning, so I figured you’d be hungry.”

Delia hummed noncommittally, but Amelie noticed how her gaze followed the scone as she moved.

“I got the vibe that you may not actually like tea that much last night, so I brought you some coffee… I wasn’t sure how you take it, so I just prepared it the way I do mine. Oh! And I brought a scone.”

Delia tilted her head in consideration before jumping down from her spot where she had been sitting and placing her hand on the windowsill. Amelie was just about to ask what she was doing when she saw Mortimer climbing down the witch’s arm before stepping off onto the granite.

A shiver wracked its way through Amelie’s body before she could stop it, but she left the smile on her face. Though, as if reading Amelie’s mind, Delia pulled her hand back from the window and walked over to meet the blonde halfway.

“I know he spooked you yesterday.” Delia was significantly shorter than Amelie, so even as she stood at her full height in her black platform boots, Amelie still found herself looking down to meet the other witch’s eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll get used to him with time.” Amelie shrugged and offered Delia the cup and scone.

The shorter witch watched Amelie for a few seconds before accepting her offerings and retreating back to her side of the mausoleum.

Amelie could tell that this was the point where Delia expected her to make her graceful exit and hurry back off to the cathedral. However, instead, Amelie sighed, looking around the mausoleum at the gorgeous stone carvings in the granite that decorated the interior.

“Whose crypt is this?”

At first, Amelie wasn’t sure if the other witch heard her, as she didn’t immediately respond, but when she tilted her head back down away from the stone edifices, she caught Delia’s eye.

“The first Cemetery Witch to be stationed here after the cathedral was built.” The silver-haired witch replied. “Before she passed away, she created this mausoleum imbued with her essence, magic, and runes as a way to continue making a difference long after she was gone.”

“Oh.” Amelie looked back up at the carvings in the pillars that held up the granite roof. They were decorated with winged figures that the kitchen witch couldn’t quite tell whether they were meant to be angels, demons, or something in between, but sure enough, interspersed among the figures themselves were twisting runes, each connected in its own particular way.

Narrowing her eyes at a particular sigil etched into the far wall, Amelie took a couple of steps closer to better observe.

“I recognize some of these sigils,” Amelie murmured, mostly to herself, but the acoustics of the stone coffin echoed her words around them both. “But a lot of them aren’t familiar to me.”

Amelie shrugged and turned back around to look at Delia. “But I suppose that’s to be expected. I mean, I’ve studied kitchen witchery for as long as I can remember. I never really delved much into necromancy.”

At the word ‘necromancy’, Delia’s eye twitched, and she turned her head to the singular window in the space.

“Yes, well,” Delia replied. “It’s not a very popular practice.”

Amelie watched in silence as Delia’s lip twitched downward ever so slightly before returning to her neutral expression.

“Anyway, thank you for the breakfast, but if you don’t mind, I have things to do.”

Amelie blinked in surprise at the sudden dismissal, but just nodded, brushing her hands off on her skirt as she started toward the door. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Delia walking back over to the windowsill and placing her hand down for Mortimer to climb back onto her arm; the shorter witch was very clearly done with their interaction. However, before she left, Amelie stopped in the doorway and turned back around one last time.

“I understand that you’re more comfortable out here,” Amelie spoke softly to Delia’s back. “But don’t forget that you need to eat… You’re more than welcome to join us inside for meals, but if you aren’t interested in that…”

Amelie paused and chewed her bottom lip, searching for the right words.

“I’ll leave your portion out on the counter for you.”

She waited another moment for any sort of response from Delia. Still, when she was met with only silence, Amelie simply nodded and started making her way back through the graveyard to the cathedral. Then with a deep breath, she stepped back inside the kitchen door, closing it gently behind her. The cold of the cemetery was instantly washed from her with the lively warmth of the hearth, and briefly Amelie wondered if that was the reason Delia didn’t like coming inside.

Her thought process, however, was disturbed as Truffle came scurrying across the floor, launching himself into her arms.

“Truffle!” Amelie exclaimed, instantly moving to catch her familiar. “What’s got you so worked up? Hm?”

Truffle squeaked excitedly, turning his head back toward the door to the Nave several times.