Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=FIRE. Read, write and come back for more SIX SENTENCE STORIES.  (Link goes active Wed night).

Months had passed since her last scry with each of the sisters, but Esme’s lungs were healing thanks to her herbal steam treatments and her sisters’ spell-casting from their various existences in time and place; she hadn’t had to ask them for help because they’d seen her drawn face and heard the shallow and extra-husky tones in her voice and acted accordingly.

Hoping her huskier voice would persist to further convince the Red King she was the perfect woman to raise his daughter and warm his bed, she worried about how she would succeed; there was a lot of Universal stability riding on this next mission.

Cat crouched on the open windowsill, growling at the newly arrived crow, who looked down his beak at him, ruffled his shiny black wings, and held out a leg banded in paper, its edge sealed with purple wax.

Gently removing the scroll, Esme noted the Peruvian Grand Wizard’s seal and unrolled what turned out to be a brief message from Scarlett.

“The liminal town and surrounding forestlands of Karinstoppe are plagued with wildfire,” wrote Scarlett, “and though Granny and Red are on the job, they need a third witch to completely extinguish the conflagration, while I focus my magic on protecting the townspeople. Please come, Esme, and help us!”

Scooping Cat into her arms, she fished a handful of grain and a shiny, many-faceted jewel out of one of her many pockets and spread it on the windowsill for the crow.

“Wait for my answer, please,” she murmured to the crow happily turning the gem over and over between beak and claw, and considered that she’d have to be tactful in her refusal to Scarlett, as the witch had a temper and the Grand Wizard hated to get caught in between.

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2026)