Á Íslandi - 32

The words were:
Stupefied
Collector
Arrange
Reflections
Fashion
Slate
    and/or:
Hesitate
Adjusted
Hat
Segment
Coffeemaker
Dessert

Fifteen minutes later  Susan and Ella hand in hand jumped trough the portal from Birch Manor to Iceland. Once there Susan shook her head and sighed: "One more."
"Why do you sigh?" Ella asked.
"Because portal transfer makes me dizzy, discombobulated. It's getting better with practice, but it's still unpleasant."
"I don't feel a thing," Ella said. "You pull me through a black hole, and then we're elsewhere."
"A way to find magical persons," Susan said giggling. "And we need a way, but portals would be impractical. Some bother explaining non-magical people that they were somewhere else, had to go back, and please forget about it!"
"I see, yes," Ella snickered, "impractical for sure, only to be used when other methods are not at hand."
"I'll have to ask Martine for more useful ways later," Susan said. "Now we're off for Schiltach." She led the way down the corridor and once again they went through the portal. In the small copse near Ella's cottage, Susan sat on a stump and ate the banana she had put in her backpack.
Ella went inside and found Walther's car keys, came out again and threw them at Susan with a: "Here catch!" Which Susan did. They drove in silence, apart from Ella's directions, and parked outside a modern building.
"Now what," Susan asked suddenly becoming shy. "I'm used to the language spell."
"Nonsense." Ella said. "You have only used it for what? A bit more than a year. Your German will be fine for this. You're my guest from Denmark, let's keep as close to the truth as possible."
Ella led the way and opened the door with her card and code.
In a large room, off from the main hall, was a conference room with two big semicircular tables pushed together to form one round table, a handful of elderly ladies and a single man sat there already.
"Guten Tag," Ella said, "Darf ich vorstellen, meine Freundin, Susan Thorsen aus Dänemark."
The man rose and took off his hat with an old fashioned flourish: "Sigismund Müller," he said, "pleased to meet you."
The ladies rose, one by one and told their names. Frau Müller, Monika Schmidt, Heike Ingelmann, Heidi Müller - not a relative of the first Frau Müller, Beata Meyer and Gisela Huber.
Susan sat down and Frau Müller poured her a cup of coffee from a red thermos. "Where is Klara?" Ella asked.
"She's brewing  some tea and cutting the cake," Sigismund Müller answered, "she will be back in a short while."
And as if this had been her cue, the door in the other end of the room opened and a lady came in, carrying a tray with a teapot, bowls of cookies and plates of cake: "Good evening, everybody," she said.
Susan rose and said: "Good evening, I'm Susan from Denmark, Ella's friend. She said it was OK for me to come here tonight."
"It is fine," Klara said. "I hope you like cakes."
"I sure do!" Susan said with a slight bow, "and German cakes are the very best."
Klara poured mugs of tea for herself and some of the other. Then she took the book from the table.
While the eight ladies and Sigismund discussed the book, a recent German faction about the war, Susan watched the others and naturally mostly Klara, whom she remembered as Aamu. It was hard to see, that it was in fact the same person. Susan was sure she had dyed her hair, Aamu had been blonde, Klara was a brunette, and as she spoke German it was hard to recognize her voice too, but she had an accent which Susan, as the discussion progressed and the arguments  turned a bit more heated, categorized as a Finnish one. She had problems with the German short vowels, and a slight speech impediment when beginning a word with the letter S followed by another consonant. A thing Susan knew to not exist in Finnish. And her eyes were a characteristic, pretty green, that Susan remembered from Aamu. It had to be her.
"Do you have anything to add?" Klara asked her.
"No, I'm sorry. I did not knowing there was a book circle. I did not read more than few pages. I read slow German," Susan said with a complaining smile, "But your cakes are wonderful."
Susan's last statement brought laughter and smiles.
"Do we agree on a new book?" the younger Müller then asked. "I would like some lighter matter this time around."
 Sigismund added: "As we're nearing Summer and planting season, I agree with Heidi Müller."
They considered the matter for some time, while Susan ate one last savoury slice of cake and emptied her mug of tea. In the end they agreed upon a book. Now Susan was certain that Klara was Aamu.
The other participants took their leave, and Susan and Ella were left alone with Klara. "Are you in a hurry to go home," Klara asked. "Or do you want me to show you more than this small segment of our famous building?"
"I'd be delighted to see more," Susan answered. "Can we help you do the dishes or something?"
Together they carried everything to the tiny kitchen, dominated by a humongous coffee-maker.
"At times I think coffee is as important as books here," Klara said when she noticed what Susan was looking at.
Susan smiled, she was tired after listening to German on a taxing topic for over an hour on top of a long day. She hoped Ella was up to taking the initiative. But first the sightseeing. The library was modern, conceived by a renowned architect featuring round holes and organic elements in the otherwise square and functional building.
They ended up in the hall where Susan noticed the willow themed exhibition of books.
Ella took up Blue Willow. "I loved this book as a young one. This here girl, she fought against injustice, she showed me the true values of life: family, friendship and honesty."
"I liked it too," Susan said. "She was not afraid to show who she was. I always found her very courageous. More so than me even if she was poor."
"You come from Denmark?" Klara mused. "I spent some holidays there as a young girl."
"Most Germans have, at least that's what they always tell me," Susan said with a disarming smile. "Where did you spend those holidays?" 
"That is the funny thing. I do not remember. I have vague memories of animals, a house, and pleasant smells. I don't know why I can't remember. I was young, but not that young. I was eleven the first summer we went there," Klara's voice faltered.
"Do you remember how you arrived there. I mean train, boat, car ... or how many boats maybe?" Susan asked. She was about to burst out with her knowledge of where and why, but she felt held back by some undefined feeling.
"I am loath to answer your question," Klara said. "But all your praising of Janey's courage has made me bold. I think I arrived by magic. Like in the books. Call me crazy if you like."
Susan and Ella just looked at her with eager faces.
"I have to tell that I am not German. I did not live in Germany then, but in Finland. I and a couple of other children always played at doing magic tricks, then one day an elderly couple who lived near by came and saw us.And then this is where it gets blurred. We went with them... somewhere." Klara shook her head. "Oh bother, you must think I am crazy or something."
"No, Susan said.  "I think you are a witch, same as me. Those twins ..."
"I did not say anything about twins," Aamu interrupted.
"No, but they were," Susan interrupted back. "Tähti and Taavi Kuusisaari. I knew them too. And the children were Jouka, Nata, Marja, and Josta, and you are Aamu."
"Apart from your atrocious Finnish pronunciation, worse than your German, you are right," Aamu said.
"I can help that," Susan said and pulled her wand out: "Mál sameinast!" she said, swishing her wand just so. "Now my Finnish will be perfect," she said smiling, and repeated the names.
"But ... that's magic!" Aamu said.
Ella looked at her: "Susan told you she was a witch. What did you expect?"

... to becontinued