CHAPTER VII

The old woman sat alone, sharpening her knives. Knives can never be too sharp, and she had a great many of them, but today she sharpened her largest, with a certain sense of anticipation. She was not at all surprised to hear a knock on the door.

"Come in!" She said, in the sweetest voice she was capable of, after hiding the knife. "Forgive me if I don't get up, but my joints are very sore today."

The door creaked open. There was a boy standing in the doorway, and a dreamer at that! She was reminded, in looking at him, of her hunger, and the fact that, were she to eat the whole world, still, her hunger would remain. A good thing, hunger. It lets you know that you're still alive.

"Come in!" She said again, and was not surprised to see the boy's knees shaking. Dreamers are well known for their ability to see past appearances.

But then, he sang the first of her secret names! And after that, he sang the next three, each in their proper direction and melody. And finally, he returned to the doorway, and stood there, uncertainly.

"For the third time, come in!" Said the crone, trying not to betray her emotions. "I don't know the meaning of all that stuff you just said, but I suppose it must be your taboo to do that strange song and dance whenever you visit somebody's house." She noticed he stiffened at the word "taboo", and then shuffled in, closed the door, sat down in the other chair, and began gazing about nervously.

"Have some tea and cookies!" She said sweetly. She poured him a cup of tea and produced a plate of fresh, hot, cookies, relishing the aroma that filled the air; butter, honey, mint, and lavender, but also wormwood and nightshade, just enough to be slightly unsettling, but not enough to lessen the deliciousness of the tea and cookies.

"So tell me." Said the crone, after a while. "What are you doing in this dark forest, all alone? Surely you did not come all this way just to eat an entire plate of my famous cookies."

The dreamer looked down in surprise at the empty plate, looked up at he ceiling as though he could find words there, and finally said,

"Well.... I was looking for the crone of the forest."

"I have been called that before." She said. "Though as you obviously know, I have other names as well. Surely, you must be a wise sage, or a powerful sorcerer to have learned them, for even the magician has never found them out. And now you are protected, for until I discover your secret name, I can do you no harm. And though there are ways of doing that, you could almost certainly escape the forest in the time it would take, and beyond the forest I dare not go. So relax."

The dreamer showed no surprise at any of this, and simply sat there like a frightened rabbit.

"I suppose I must keep up the conversation myself." Said the crone. "So which is it? Sage or sorcerer?"

"Neither." Replied the boy. "I was told those names by a woman who lives at the edge of the forest."

"Well, though you are clearly not powerful, at least you are wise enough to listen to the so-called peasants who live at the edge of the forest, for their knowledge is older and deeper than that which is found in books. But surely, you mustn't leave all the talking to me. Why have you come here? What do you seek?"

"A... a flower!"

"Flour? Are you making a cake?"

"No, you misheard me. The old man... the magician, I suppose, said you had a certain rare flower, which is the thing I seek above all else..."

"Well, I have many rare flowers preserved in jars, a curio, you might call it. But I don't give them away for free! You will have to do something for me first!"

"Ah, what?" Said the dreamer, nervously

"Long ago, I lost something very special to me. It is only a little spindle of thread, but without it to weave with, I have only the sharpening of my knives to occupy me in this, the long twilight of my life. And why do I sharpen my knives, except that they be sharp enough to cut thread?"

"Where is the last place you saw it?"

"I know exactly where it is. It is at the ends of time and space. I would get it myself, except that it is guarded by a daemon, the daemon that gnaws the ends of time and space. And that daemon is so terrifying that I dare not approach it. Bring me the thread, and I shall give you your flower."

"But I don't know how to get to the ends of time and space."

"Oh, don't worry about that." She said, laughing. "I'll take you there." And then she whistled, and her house jumped up into the air.