Birch Manor - Fiona & Martine

"They say on the internet that we'll have sunshine all day tomorrow," Susan said over the evening coffee. The living room they sat in was almost cleared of things. The shelves were empty, the chairs stood in small groups, and the piano was empty too. No lamp, no bust of Chopin or the other small souvenirs usually placed there. On the other hand, moving boxes stood in stacks on the entire floor. "Books A-E" in Susan's clear handwriting could be read on the bottom box.
"Yes?" said Knud questioning, "Where do you want to go with that?"
"It will be so good when we're unpacking at Birch Manor," Susan said. "This moving chaos looks so sad, so sad."
Knud could see into the kitchen from where he sat at the table. There too everything was packed away in crates. On the kitchen table stood only what they had used for dinner, and a flock of glasses, waiting for moving day, when the kids would come and help carry out everything.
"You're right. I'm also looking forward to getting in order, and to explore the surroundings."
"Yes, but tomorrow ..." Susan hesitated. "Shouldn't we take another day off and go to Hundested, to Fiona's place or to Funen and look for Martine?"
"If you whip up a batch of cakes, while I clear the table and do the dishes  ... Well, no everything is put into crates already. We should be able to buy some cakes along the way. Let's go to Funen. Even with sunshine, it is not warm enough for a stroll along the harbour in Hundested yet. Fiona must wait," Knud said.

***

Next morning, Susan and Knud boarded the very first bus through their village. They sat together in the train and read. "What if she do not recognize us at all?" Susan asked with a worried frown. "You will only be taken care of in a nursing home if you are completely demented."
"Or if you have no one to take care of you," Knud countered. "According to me, she should be around 80 and that does not necessarily imply dementia."
"I hope you're right," Susan said sincerely.

When they got off the train, Knud realized that Susan had taken her old, brown suitcase along. "Oh, you're carrying that one along! Are you going to dress Martine in your old skirt or what?"
"Perhaps," Susna replied. "In fact, it is probably mostly because I don't want to leave all the wizarding things at home. Everything is in here. Our wands, yes, yours too, the handbook with Cantrippes for everyday use, remember that one? Newspaper cuttings, my skirt and your pants, they were Helge's pants, I think, so we have proof that they also work on a wizard who is not the owner."
"You are smart, Susan," said Knud with praise in his voice. "Look there is a baker."
They bought some cakes and a good smelling, still warm spelt-flour bread, which they carefully put into Knud's backpack.
"The nursing home should be at the end of the main street, facing the water" Knud said after consulting the map.
"There is it! What a beautiful, old building," Susan said surprised. "Most nursing homes are modern horrors, this looks like people actually live inside."

Inside, at the front desk a young girl was lolligagging. She looked amazed when Susan and Knud entered. "Does the bell not work again?" she asked confused.
"I suppose not," Susan replied, "no one answered."
"Well, OK," she shook her head in confusion. "You can't help it. Who are you here to visit?"
"Martine Haugen," Knud answered.
"Oh how wonderful," the young girl replied. "She never gets visitors, we feel sorry for her. Are you family?"
"No," Susan replied. "She is our old teacher, we thought she had went home to Norway, and we only recently found out that she was still in Denmark."
"Then I'd like to warn you," said the young girl who now no longer looked bored or sleepy. "She was in a terrible accident many years ago." She is lame from the chest down. But her head is in fine working order. I'll get someone to take you there." She rang a bell.
"Thank you for the warning," Susan said and smiled at the girl. "We knew her as a physically very active lady, so it must have been hard for her."

"You have visitors, Martine," the nurse said loudly. "I'll bring you some coffee in a little while."
Martine sat in an electric wheelchair in front of the window and looked out over the fjord. She turned around when they entered the room.
Knud closed the door after the nurse, and Susan extended her hand towards the old lady in the wheelchair. It was not easy to see that the white-haired, sad looking lady was Martine. Under the sunshine yellow spread both legs were cut off just above the knees, the arms were thin and not quite straight, and it looked as if her spine had been damaged in the accident as well. She also looked more Asian than Susan remembered, but then she remembered that someone had told her that Martine's grandmother had been Japanese.
"Good day Martine," Susan said. "My name is Susan and this is Knud. We are your old students from the Unicorn Farm. Do you remember us?"
A sad smile spread over Martine's wrinkled face: "Susan and Knud! Yes, you bet I do remember you. You were two of the most hopeless students I ever had the pleasure of teaching. But it has been long indeed. I have not been able to teach for many years! "
 The nurse came in with a coffee and three cups: "Did you bring something for the coffee?" she asked kindly. "Otherwise we may have a piece of cake left from the birthday yesterday."
"We have brought some cakes, but thanks for the offer," replied Knud.
He waited until she had gone out and closed the door after her.
"Nice people here, but they are lacking a little where good manners are concerned. She obviously never learned to knock," Knud said laughingly. "But you don't go around snaking out like a ninja either?"
"It's no laughing matter," Susan said sternly. "But frankly Martine. How many legs do you need to fly a broomstick?"
Martine looked shocked and dried away a tear. "Fly. I only do that in my dreams." She sniffled. "Do you really remember how it was at the Unicorn Farm? I thought it was only Thora and me who could. We tried to contact a couple of the old apprentices, but it was no success. Those we could find, could not Remember anything, and most were dead. It was so depressing. I actually think Thora found you two as well. You have lots of kids, don't you?"
Knud nodded, and was about to talk, but Martine interrupted him. "No, let me talk before I lose my courage. I'm not bitter, no, but I have resigned. The hope of magic died with Thora. She and I, we could talk. We could remember, remember how it was to be able to work magic. We just couldn't do any magic. It didn't work any more. The magic was gone."
Susan opened her mouth, but Knud put a hand on her arm and she remained silent.
Martine continued: "But Susan, actually you are right. I could fly with these stumps. But I can't. First of all, my hands and arms are not strong enough, the accident did that too. Secondly, the magic no longer works, as I already said. Gilvi and his Mondrian delivered as promised. They have all died, Only not me, and the magic died with them. But now you are here and Remember the Unicorn Farm. How much do you remember? I would give everything to be able to do magic again. It would be so much easier. But blast it. It's impossible. And imagine what the nice nurses here would say if I suddenly landed in the dining room on my broomstick."
Martine began to laugh, a hysterical laughter that turned in to crying.
Susan opened her brown suitcase and picked up her wand.
"Martine! Listen to me!" she said harshly. "The magic is not dead. Look at me!" She swung the wand and the sparks flew.
"What ... How ..." Martine stopped.
"We believe that the key is our old pants and skirts. Do you dare to try?"
"What do I have to lose?" Martine asked. She turned the wheelchair away from them, blowing her nose and drying her eyes.
Susan took her skirt from the suitcase and extended it. Martine slowly and shakenly advanced her crippled hand and touched the skirt. A disbelieving smile spread on her face.
"Yes, it works. I can feel the magic waking inside of me. It's amazing! But my magic wand, where has it gone?"

"Dear Martine," Susan said. "All the wands stopped working at that time, they broke, splintered or disappeared. I still have the sad remnants of my old wand in the brown suitcase. But I'm a wandsinger! Tell me what tree your wand came from, then I can sing you a new one."
"My wand was made from spruce. Norway's National Tree. Don't you remember the old inscription: 'Beech for Denmark, Birch for Sweden, Spruce for Norway, Juniper for Finland and Rowan for Iceland'," quoted Martine, and Susan remembered the old verse.

Knud suddenly smiled a cunning smile: "I'm sure you remember Fiona." Martine nodded so energetically that she almost made the coffee spill. "In addition to being good at flying ..." continued Knud,
"And was she!" Martine said with emphasis.
"... she was great at healing magic. And today she is healer and painter in Hundested. We must find her, and then we must make her visit you. Or the other way around."
"Martine, we need you!" Susan said earnestly. "We want to create a new school. We will revive the magic once again. And you know and remember so much more than we do. Could we persuade you to move closer to us?"
"I'm totally overwhelmed," Martine said. "You have opened new opportunities and new roads for me in the years I thought was the courtyard of death. Now I have to tell you something. In a month, yes on May 17th, it  is my 80th birthday. I meant to celebrate it all alone ... And then afterwards I had fully intended to put an end to it all, but now ... How many apprentices do you think you can gather and 'awaken' or what you might call it? And can I move to Zealand. If I could do magic and be able to fly, then I could move into a house of my own." Martine was still smiling. She looked younger for every minute.
"Shouldn't we take a walk outside? Maybe we can find a spruce along the way? Just you don't let anyone discover what malarkey we've put you up to!"
"I was not born yesterday," Martine replied, with a glimpse of her old teacher's voice. Susan and Knud smiled at each other behind her back, and followed Martine's wheelchair into the park-like garden.

***

The last Saturday before moving, Susan and Knud went to Hundested. It was closer to their old home than it would be from Birch Manor.
Everything was packed and ready. Tuesday, all children and grandchildren would came and help carry the many crates and furniture into the moving lorry. Tomorrow and Monday they would take apart the last of the shelving and oversee the professional moving men who would come to move the piano. Their oldest daughter would be on duty in Birch Manor to let them in and show them where to place the piano. But today nothing demanded their attention. The sun shone from a largely cloudless sky and the warmer weather had finally arrived.
"We need some sun and to look at some water," Knud said.
"You mean we need to find Fiona and see how she is doing?" Susan teased. "I'll go fetch my small, brown suitcase. "
Almost faster said than done, they rode their faithful bikes towards the station.
Arriving in Hundested, they got off at the small, oldish station in town.
"We have to have an ice cream first," said Susan. "You can't go to Hundested without eating an ice cream."
Fortunately, Knud agreed and a little later they sauntered towards the harbour. each holding a large ice cream cone with jam and everything.
"Where does Fiona have her shop?" Susan asked.
"As far as I understood, she is together with a few others in one of the old wharf buildings further out on the large pier."
They walked slowly along the waterfront. There was enough to look at, woodturners, painters, glass blowers, various yarn and textile artists, recycling stores and other more or less artistic shops. In some the art seemed to consist mainly in selling the stuff to the tourists, and in some Susan and Knud caught a genuine spark of creativity.
"Oh, I don't hope Fiona has changed," Susan said.
"Not changed? It is inevitable. Have you not changed you since you were 15, maybe?"
"It is not what I meant," Susan answered sharply. "It's her spirit, the interior. Do you remember the broom race. How she flew and fooled everyone else to think she wasn't quite as good and then she overtook them all at the last leg of the racing track. And the Easter fire. She just wanted to jump through. Even with broken arms and leg. And she did it. That's how I hope she is still. We need such a fighter."
Susan popped the last of her ice-cream cone into her mouth. She always took tiny bites from the cone while eating the ice, so that she ended up with a teeny ice cream cone. Knud had long since eaten his, even though he had more ice than Susan. She was always slower.
Susan dried her hands in a napkin and looked for a waste paper basket. "Look at that painting," she said, sticky fingers and napkins forgotten. The paintings she looked at were held in the same dreamy hues, and the symbols  often used by alternative healers, but even so they were completely different. There was a unicorn on one of the paintings. "Look," Susan said, "it looks as if the painter has actually seen a unicorn. This is not an over sweet, harmless Pokemon-thing. It looks wild and dangerous, just like unicorns should look. Proud and free. And as I said dangerous!"
"Do you like my paintings," a youthful voice asked from the building. A slim lady stood in the door . Her hair was long, chestnut-brown and her dress was sunshine yellow with fabric printing of red tulips and blue violets all over. The printing looked unprofessional, but the cut and fit of the dress were unparalleled.
"Yes, I admire that unicorn. It looks alive. Not like those glossy pictures you usually see," Susan said. "And that dress. It is unique. Did you make it yourself?" Susan didn't know why she asked this.
"Yes and no to the dress. My youngest daughter's kids have made all the flowers with potato prints, but I have sewn the dress. I love it!" replied the lady enthusiastically and tossed her head so that the hair danced. The movement was so characteristic of Fiona that Susan was almost scared.

"Did you also paint those flowers?" asked Knud. "I can't read the signature in all the green."
"No, the woman answered. Birgit, one of the others here in the Glass House, is master of that picture. My signature can be seen there, a merged F and S for Fiona Sørensen. Come inside, there are more to look at," Fiona said smiling. "I can sense that you like my paintings."
"Indeed we do," Susan said and followed her into the big, sunlit room.
"It's an old mast shed, with a nice high ceiling. I have healing cabins in there, but you do not seem to need that."
"No, we're doing well," Knud said. "How about you?
"I have long thought I had found my calling as a painter and healer here at the harbour," Fiona replied. "But it's as if I'm missing something. And why do I tell you this? I don't know you at all."
"Possibly because you are the person, you are," answered Knud. "Don't you have some tea or soft drinks? It's thirsty work to look at all the art. "
Fiona studied Knud and Susan. Susan retaliated the gaze and Fiona went behind the curtains.
"It's her," Susan whispered to Knud. "I'm absolutely sure. That move of her head and hair, it's so much her."
"Fine, let's move on," whispered Knud back and add a little louder. "Here is a wonderful nature painting. It looks somewhat familiar, don't you agree?"
Susan went closer. "At least it is beautiful. I like those who don't look like tame pictures. There's too much kitch here at the harbour, but that painting, it has an edge. It's like something, not dangerous, but strong, is lurking just below the beautiful surface. I don't feel scared when I look at the picture but tense, waiting even. How is it called?"
Knud bend down and read, or attempted to read the cramped letters.
"What do you think about it? asked Fiona. "Its my latest picture. It is called 'Easter Saturday'."
"It is exciting, said Knud." As my wife constantly says, it is not as glossy as much art here at the harbour."
"Glossy. It is a good description," Fiona laughed and tossed her hair again.
They sat down at one of the small tables in the room and Fiona poured them a soda. "You seem a little nervous," Fiona said. "I'm sensitive, you know, I can feel people, mostly."
"Yes, I'm nervous," Susan said. "I have something I would like to show you. But first I have to ask you a few indiscreet questions."
"You are weird," answered Fiona, "but you are honest. OK, fire, but I don't promise to answer everything."
"Do you have many children?"
"Yes, 5 if you think it's many."
"And grandchildren?"
Yes, more, and even more on the way "
And you're married Sørensen. Was your maiden name Andersen?
"Yes, but only a few know that."
"And you had a big sister who died in 1982?"
Fiona nodded and bit her lip.
"If she was called Veronika, you are the Fiona we are looking for."
"Yes she was. But if it's something religious, like the Witnesses or Moonies or something, you have come to the wrong person."
"No, nothing religious," Susan said smiling. "I just want to show you something special. She opened the suitcase and pulled out her nicely folded skirt.
"It looks old," said Fiona, "exciting, may I touch it?"
Susan extended the skirt toward her "Pray do!"
And the moment Fiona touched the skirt, something relaxed inside her. Her facial features changed. Not much, but enough for both Susan and Knud to notice. Then without a word she fainted. Knud caught her.
"Oh bugger, we should have been more careful," Susan exclaimed
"Now let's see," said Knud. He put Fiona down on the floor, checked pulse and breathing. "There is life in her, fine life," he said.
"She's probably just sensitive, as she said herself," Susan smiled and put his hands on Fiona's head. "She did not go with Tristan and Torben, did she?"
"Tristan, is he here!" Fiona opened her eyes and looked  around terrified.
"No. He is not here. He and Torben and David died many years ago. They can't harm  you any longer."
"They were pure devils," Fiona said in a thin, shaky voice and sat up, leaning heavily against Knud. She opened and closed her eyes and shook her head " ... and it was them, they killed Veronika. Did you know? They were also out to get me. I couldn't recognize them but Veronika could. She ... but who are you? "
"Susan," she replied, "and Knud, the most hopeless flyers from the Unicorn Farm."
"Yes you were horrible," said Fiona, "how you ever passed ... But it is long ago. I'm completely confused. Where did you come from ... "
Susan filled Fiona's glass and handed her it. She emptied it in one go, and looked from Susan to Knud and back again. "Yes, now it all makes sense. I remember it all, the last night, and the time after. Now I understand why Torben and David were looking for us ... or rather no. I don't understand it anyway. They should not have not been able to remember. " Fiona sighed deeply and sat up. "It's getting late. I'll close up for today, and then you must go home with me. We have a lot to catch up."

Susan and Knud helped Fiona take paintings and dresses inside, Fiona locked the door and hung the "closed for today" sign on the door. On the walk to Fiona's car, they went to the seafood place and bought four servings of today's takeaway menu. "Then there is one for my husband as well, when, he gets home. He's at a meeting in Copenhagen, he will hopefully be late so we can talk a lot."
They were silent on the relatively short ride to Fiona's house.
Susan began by telling about the moving clean-up and the brown suitcase and the clothes. Then she asked Fiona to tell about Torben, Tristan and Veronika.
She started by asking if they were totally sure that Torben and Tristan were dead.
"As sure an humanly possible," Knud answered. "We have read about their death in old newspapers, seen their obituaries, and read a little about the funerals."
"Yes, after that party ... I remembered it as a failed rabbit show and horse race in the local 4H," she smiled, "we went back home. I remember that you called us the 'Flower power girls' and we lived in a commune in Rødovre. That autumn a new family moved in, man, woman and son. The woman, I am not sure who she was, she was called Teresa. She kept to herself very much, and only rarely contributed to the community. But father and son, they were called Arne and Frederik, they said at that time, but now. Now that I remember all from the Unicorn Farm, I can see that they were Torben and David.
"I think that the Mondrian, or possibly the renunciation of all memories did not work as well on the adults, as on us," said Knud. "Martine was able to remember a lot."
"Martine, she's still alive?" interrupted Fiona.
"Yes," Susan replied. "She was the first one we found. More about her later. She had met with Thora regularly  before she died and they had been able to Remember a lot from the Unicorn Farm. But they were not able to do magic. But please continue your story? Then we can fill in with more afterwards."
"Torben and David and let me just keep on calling her Teresa, stayed in the commune. They were angry with us children. Not just Veronika and me, but also the others. They used every opportunity to harass us and destroy our things and even steal from us. It created bad vibes in the commune. And one day a guest arrived ... It was Tristan," Fiona stopped and breathed deeply. "My parents did not like him, but a few of the others were quite taken with him. He had big plans. He wanted to create a chain of water parks, and take over the market. I think he was a bit crazy actually. He always raved about dominion and power, but only over those water parks. He would become a  millionaire, and promised us all a brilliant future if we just helped him both financially and practically with the water park chain scheme of his."
"It's tragicomic," said Knud. "Instead of world dominion, or the post as prime minister, he strove to become a great man in the water park business. The king of water parks." Knud smiled.
It split up the commune," Fiona continued. "A few persons, among those David, Torben and Teresa, would go with him to somewhere. We and another family would not. So we decided to take over the commune. But then someone messed with our car. And it was Veronika who drove it on that fateful trip. No one could prove anything, but they ... he ... Torben, had done such stuff before. I think he hated people who lived a normal life and were happy. It was at least apparent that he hated us most of all." Fiona looked out through the window for a while, and Susan and Knud sat quietly and waited. "The collective dissolved, and mother, father and I moved here to Hundested, where my grandparents already lived. The rest is quickly told. I went to High School, met Mr. Sørensen. He was a painter, we married, had 5 children and later I too turned painter and healer when the kids no longer took all my time, and I didn't have to work so much." She sighed. "You met Martine?"
"Yes," Susan replied, "she is the only one of the teachers still alive. She also was the youngest, she will be 80 in a few days, and she needs your healing abilities. I assume that they now, you've got your magic back will be even better," Susan said, and Fiona smiled so broadly that it was like watching the sun break from hind a cloud. "Martine did not die in her traffic accident," Susan continued. "She had both legs amputated, her back is crooked and her arms crippled. But I'm sure you can help her. She will be of great help. Our plan is to reopen a school in magic and she will be a great help - and so will you."
"I'll need my magic wand; I wonder where it went?" Fiona said.
"All the magic wands broke that last evening," Susan replied, Fiona's smile turned off abruptly, and she looked immensely sad. "Don't lose your courage, Fiona," Susan said. "Thora taught some of us to sing wands, I'm one of them. And I can do it! I already have a little practice. Knud, Martine and I've got new wands."
"My Goodness!" exclaimed Fiona. After a short break, she looked through the window in a very meaningful way. "So, that's why I always loved that tree. There's a giant witch hazel out there in the garden. Behind the juniper. It was the first thing I planted when we moved in here. Mother thought I had become crazy, but she let me have my way. I later believed it was its healing properties that had attracted me, but it is because it is the wood my magic wand was made of."
"And your sparks are golden as sunshine?" Susan asked.
Veronika nodded: "We'd better go for a walk in the garden right away. Don't mind the weeds."
"I hate to interrupt you," said Knud, "but there is a car coming up the driveway. How do you think Mr. Sørensen will like having a wife who is a witch?"
"We'll just have to find out," Fiona said. "I'll go out and give him a loving welcome." The three magicians smiled and Susan and Knud sat back down on the sofa. Susan got up immediately after and packed her things back into the small, brown suitcase.

***

This next chapter is a macine translation of a chapter I obviously only wrote in Danish. It is a sort of missing link, but I am not in the mood for translating. I tried someting new: This chapter is translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version).

A week later, Fiona's car rolled up in front of Birkegården.
I know you didn't want visitors yet, Fiona said as they pulled up, completely bewildered to have visitors in their new home. But tomorrow is 17 May, Martine's birthday. Shouldn't we surprise her with a visit today. There was something I had to look at. And don't worry, my wand is in the glove compartment.
They spent a nice drive together in Fiona's car, refreshing old memories and banter. And making plans for the new school of magic. Fiona remembered that the brooms were bought in the Blind Work in Copenhagen.
The biggest problem was books. Susan had her copy of  Cantrippes for every day use, but that wasn't much to build a school on. "We'll probably ask for help from abroad." Susan said. I wonder if Ella couldn't help us, hopefully she's still alive. I don't think Kensuke and Teiko will be much help there. Neither of us seem to read Japanese."
"Maybe Finnbogi and Rósa have something up at that weird museum of Icelandic witchcraft and sorcery or whatever it was called?" Knud added.
"Oh, I went there once, right after they opened," Fiona said. "It was repulsive and exciting at the same time. Rósa works there. Fantastic, and Finnbogi. How many have you found so far?"
"We've checked on almost all the apprentices from the Unicorn Farm, but it's a pretty sad story," Knud said, pulling his book out of his backpack. So many of them have died, but of natural causes, we suspect. And many of David's loyal supporters were among the first to go wrong. So we don't think there's any criminal or revenge motive behind it."
"In short, you don't buy the idea that Teresa had anything to do with it?"
"No, not really, anyway. It's a bit too random who survived, and so most of them weren't hard to find."
"And one last thing," Susan said. "It just occurred to me, but the deaths stop about when David dies.  Maybe she - or they - even got off on the wrong foot around then?"
"That sounds like a thought," Knud said. "Let me check." A little later he looked up from the book again. "You're quite right. Apart from Kalle Berggren, who didn't die until eight years later, it actually stopped with David's death. I bet if we look hard we can find your Teresa's death around there too, but the question is whether we want to bother now, there's so much else to do."

"You're right. It's probably just my fear of them being overactive. I guess I'll just have to get used to the fact that they've been dead and gone for so many years, when they're alive and well in my mind's eye," Fíona sighed. "But now for something completely different. Martine. If I can cure her ... Or rather, help her ills. And it won't be in a day, even with magic. That would probably just arouse suspicion too. So what are your plans?"
"Our plans, and hers, are to find her a handicapped-accessible home near the Birch House. We haven't looked yet, but there should be something. Maybe she can stay with us for a while, we have enough space when not all the children are visiting at once."
"Yes, with my help and especially with her magic, she should actually be able to manage on her own," Fiona said slowly. "That sounds like a good idea. And she's not going to be lonely, we need her help, too, very much! And then I have another question. How will you check if people you meet have magic abilities, i.e. are witches or wizards? I've wondered if any of my children or grandchildren were magicians, but I haven't really dared to do anything about it yet. And I don't know how to go about it."
"That's actually a really good question. We've thought about it a lot, but haven't really had time to make anything of it with all the moving," Knud said. "How did you get tested?"
"I read in a big Icelandic book one day at school - and I could actually read it," Susan told us. "And then on summer vacation I found my way to the Unicorn Farm and met Gilvi."
"I was inside with a fortune teller at a traveling carnival," Fiona told me. "She asked me if I'd like to look in the fortune-teller's ball, and I saw a building, the Unicorn Farm, of course. Then she handed me a leaflet about the local 4H and told me to give it to my parents so they could sign me up for the rabbit jumping course. I wasn't the least bit interested, but I did as she said, and my parents were very keen to get both me and Veronika there. I reckon it was suggestive paper," Fiona sighed. "At 4H I was sent down to a small gloomy room where there were some other children, Sarah, Knud and those from Northern Norway, My, Marit, Astrid and Olav, and then we were escorted out to the Unicorn Farm under Jon's leadership.

"I picked a bunch of flowers and leaves in the forest, and an old woman came and asked me if she could have it - it was Tahti," Knud replied. "The next day there was a leaflet in the post box - and from there my story follows Fiona," Kund said smiling.
"But that probably doesn't help us much," said Fiona. "I usually just do instead of thinking long and hard, but right now I'm hesitant. Maybe Martine knows something." 

***

Knud directed Fiona the last few miles to the nursing home, and just like last time, they were inside the bakery buying cakes. This time they bought a small layer cake, just the right size for four people.
It was the same girl as last time who was sitting at the reception desk and she cheered up when she saw them: "Oh, I'm so glad to see you again, Martine's been so up since you were here. She's started taking part in physiotherapy and also some arts and crafts. It's fantastic. You know the way, so just go up there."

"You must be Fiona," Martine exclaimed once the three visitors had entered. "You look like yourself, you're just older."
"Yes, I am Fiona," replied the latter. "I recognise you too."
"That's a kind way of putting it," said Martine. "I don't look like myself anymore."
"Yes," Fiona said, continuing over Martine's protests. "It's true that your body isn't whole anymore, but you, your soul, or whatever cat I should call it, there inside you, still looks like who you were." Martine looked up at Fiona. "I've gotten stronger since those two were here last," she said with a sly smile. "I've been working out. Every day, not just in physical therapy. and I've been working on a test tool. We need a way to distinguish mages from non-mages." 
"I told you!" Knud exclaimed. "Martine has the solution."
The nurse came in with a tray of coffee, cups and so on. She noticed the layer cake on the table and smiled broadly. "Well, someone's in good time. Enjoy!"
"Thank you!" The four of them replied into each other's mouths.
Fiona poured and Martine narrated while Knud cut the cake. "Well, I thought we needed to know who was going to school at Birch Manor. So I made a gizmo. You know, one of those brain teaser things made of wood and coloured strings." She paused and stuck a hand in a bag on the back of the wheelchair. Susan couldn't help but notice how much more mobile she had become and smiled appreciatively. "You can do what you want, almost," Martine said. "This one is magical. It resists being solved if you're not a magician. Leave it, and some normal ones like it, out next time the children and grandchildren come to visit. Those who stick with it long enough to solve it have the magic in them." She handed the gadget to Susan.
"You only made one?" Fiona asked?"
"Well, I can't do magic." Martine replied, and they all burst out laughing. 
"You can test your grandchildren with a painting competition, just ask them to paint animals and you'll see!"
"Great idea!" Fiona replied. "And then my kids will be exposed by their kids. That's clever!"

***