A Witch Come True

by James Nicol

  ‘Where’s the tree gone?’ Salle asked as she ducked under a thick vine hanging between two trees.

  Arianwyn pointed to the tree ahead of them. ‘There.’

  ‘No,’ Salle laughed. ‘That can’t be it. It’s—’ She stopped, stepping forward.

  ‘Not infested any more,’ Arianwyn said, finishing her friend’s sentence, though she could barely believe what she was seeing herself.

  The tree was free of hex.

  The bark was just bark, a little scarred here and there where the hex had obviously broken through it, but the wood beneath was clear and healthy and pale, like a newly healed wound. Even the branches showed the first shoots of greenery.

  ‘How is that even possible?’ Salle asked. She let her hand brush the bark and Arianwyn didn’t stop her. She couldn’t feel any trace of hex at all within the immediate vicinity and certainly nothing was affecting the tree now.

  Her mind whirred. What had they seen? The strange seam of magic, reacting to the hex-infested tree. The hex had made the seam of magic visible to them all and had caused some flashes and pops of magic as it had passed over the tree. But had it done much more than that?

  ‘I think the seam of magic might have . . . got rid of the hex.’ A small laugh burst from Arianwyn’s mouth as she realized how ridiculous that sounded. ‘Could it?’

  She looked at Salle, who shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me, you’re the witch!’ Salle giggled.

  Arianwyn thought back to the train and the seam of magic she had encountered there, its strange behaviour and random properties that had caused all sorts of upsets on the train. The seam they had seen here the night before had had similar reactions when it got near to the tree and the hex. The more she thought about it, the more certain she became she was right.

  ‘So, let me get this right now. You really think that the natural deposits of magic can cure the hex? That a seam of magic passed over the tree and took away the hex?’ Salle asked, her head to one side as she tried to figure it out.

  Arianwyn nodded slowly, her mind bursting with what this could mean.

  They fell silent, the only sound the wind dancing through the trees, the occasional creak of a trunk or branch followed by the cascading sound of snow sliding to the ground.

  This could mean so much in terms of curing the hex in the Great Wood. If they could find a way to control or position the seams of magic . . . It might even be something that could help Gimma in time!

  The thought of Gimma brought Arianwyn back to earth with a bump. ‘We should be getting on our way,’ she said, the dread of what awaited them in Lull returning, spoiling the moment of excitement.

  They slowly walked back to where the broom lay waiting in the snow beside Arianwyn’s backpack. Within a few minutes they were whizzing away again over the snowy track, roughly following the path back to Lull and whatever was waiting for them there.

  They could see a small group of people waiting by the West Gate. Arianwyn was sure one of them was Mayor Belcher, his purple sash visible even from a distance, but everyone was so wrapped up in coats and scarves and hats that it was a little hard to tell exactly who was there.

  As the broom flew closer Arianwyn saw Mayor Belcher raise his hand. ‘We got the message. What’s happened? Is it the maudants?’ Arianwyn asked as she brought the broom to a graceful stop just before the mayor.

  Mayor Belcher shook his head. ‘No, Arianwyn, it’s not that.’

  She looked around herself, hoping for some clue as to what the problem was and what she needed to do to fix it.

  ‘It’s the High Elder,’ Mayor Belcher said. ‘You left the town unprotected when you . . . disappeared, and it was easy for the High Elder and’ – he paused and swallowed – ‘Gimma to get into town.’

  ‘What?’ Arianwyn asked, her voice dry, her throat tight. The High Elder had made her feel safe, promising that there was no urgency, that Arianwyn could decide when they would meet again. And Arianwyn had left the town unprotected. Then another thought occurred to her. ‘Is my grandmother with them?’

  The mayor nodded once.

  ‘Where are they?’ Arianwyn asked.

  Arianwyn and Salle followed the mayor through Lull. They all stayed silent. There was nothing now that anyone could say. No words of comfort. No brilliant ideas. There would be no more going for help, no more waiting for someone – or some miracle – to save them. It was quite possible that nobody would come at all now. The day had come and the choice had to be made one way or the other.

  The town square seemed drained of all its colour, the buildings damp and grey. People were clustered in small groups by doorways or peering through windows. Arianwyn could see her father and Aunt Grace and Uncle Mat waiting by the door of the Blue Ox. As she walked towards the town hall they followed her. The building seemed to hulk over the town like some giant, menacing and threatening. Three figures waited on the steps of the town hall: the High Elder, Gimma and Grandmother.

  Arianwyn paused on the edge of the town square.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Salle asked, squeezing Arianwyn’s hand.

  But Arianwyn didn’t know how she felt. Everything felt numb, as though this was all more of a dream than real life. As though the cold had consumed her entirely.

  She could feel the weight of her notebook in her pocket.

  But it was like a lump of lead.

  They moved on again, drawing closer to the town hall. They reached the steps at the same time as Sergeant Gribble, Aunt Grace and Uncle Mat. They all stood in a small semicircle behind Arianwyn as she faced the High Elder. Arianwyn glanced quickly at her grandmother who looked all right, but tired, her hair tangled about her face. Her coat was muddy and torn near the shoulder; her face looked a little bruised.

  Arianwyn felt herself shake with anger.

  ‘Hello, Arianwyn,’ the High Elder said. ‘I gather you’ve been on a little trip?’ Arianwyn didn’t say anything. ‘Trying to summon some help from the C.W.A? That’s rather disappointing, I must say. Though not entirely surprising,’ the High Elder said. ‘You took advantage of my generosity. I should have known you would be plotting something when you didn’t respond as soon as you got back to town.’

  Salle squeezed Arianwyn’s hand a little tighter.

  ‘The town’s been cut off. We need food and help getting the power back,’ Arianwyn replied. She turned to Mayor Belcher. ‘PC Walters promised to come to help as soon as possible,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Indeed,’ the High Elder said, but she clearly didn’t believe a word. ‘Well, Miss Gribble, perhaps now you are ready to share your discoveries with me?’ Her eyes slid across quickly to Grandmother.

  Arianwyn flashed a look at Salle. Her friend’s face was set and stony, her eyes wide. She gave Arianwyn the smallest of nods.

  Arianwyn stepped forward, her hand slipping free from Salle’s. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her notebook. It had been a gift from Salle and Colin. It was beautiful, the leather gleaming even on the grey morning. She was sad to think the High Elder would soon have it, aside from having access to the new quiet glyphs she had discovered and recorded on its pages.

  It felt as though it took a year to make the last few steps. The High Elder and Gimma towered over her. The High Elder reached out her hand towards Arianwyn, the faintest of smiles drawing across her face as she reached for the notebook. ‘You have played a part in the history of the Four Kingdoms and ensured the witches of Hylund be recognized as leaders of this country. Not servants of the King and Royal Senate.’

  ‘Constance, you are deranged,’ Grandmother said quietly.

  ‘Deranged? Far from it, Maria. The witches of Hylund dragged this country out of the dark ages and ushered in an era of culture, art and magic. We were queens once, leaders, revered and honoured. Now we wear a uniform and fill out forms or spend our days banishing snotlings and brownies from broom cupboards. We’re just servants. Slaves of the kingdom and nothing more, so don’t delude yourself, Maria.’

  ‘
And you think you’ll change all of that with the quiet glyphs and by inflicting hex upon us?’ Grandmother demanded.

  ‘The hex has made Gimma stronger than any witch in the Four Kingdoms. And with the new glyphs she will have even more power.’ The High Elder sniffed and turned away.

  ‘It’s possessed her, it’s feeding off Gimma,’ Arianwyn said.

  ‘A small sacrifice for our cause, don’t you see? Now hand over the glyphs!’

  Arianwyn passed the notebook over, her hands shaking. She locked eyes with her grandmother, her heart racing, and allowed herself a small smile at the thought that they would soon be back together; although this wouldn’t be over, at least she would have Grandmother by her side again.

  The High Elder examined the book. ‘Hmmm,’ she said, flicking through the pages. Then she looked up at Arianwyn and said flatly, ‘That’s all?’

  Arianwyn nodded. She felt a small moment of triumph. The High Elder had clearly thought there would be more. Perhaps her struggles with the glyphs hadn’t been such a bad thing, after all.

  ‘Well, it will do, I suppose . . . at least for now.’ Constance Braithwaite closed the book. ‘Thank you, Arianwyn.’

  It felt as though everyone watching in the town square had held their breath and now they all seemed to sigh with a kind of relief.

  Grandmother made to move, away from the High Elder, down the steps. She tried to lead Gimma away as well, but something wasn’t right. Arianwyn realized that Gimma had a tight grip of Grandmother’s wrist and she wasn’t letting go. Arianwyn reached towards her instinctively and Grandmother pulled harder, trying to move Gimma.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere, Maria. I am sorry,’ the High Elder said as she tucked the book away under her long dark coat.

  Arianwyn felt her heart plummet as the realization gripped her. ‘But you promised!’ she shouted.

  The High Elder cocked her head to one side and gazed at Arianwyn. ‘You’re far more naive than I suspected. Maria is my . . . insurance. I know there will be more glyphs, Arianwyn. In time. And when they reveal themselves you will notify me before passing the knowledge to anyone else.’

  Arianwyn felt a cold dead weight in her stomach, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from the High Elder’s face.

  Grandmother tried to pull herself free now, but Gimma and the hex were too strong.

  ‘No!’ Arianwyn cried, reaching for her grandmother. But the High Elder stepped forwards and grasped Arianwyn by the shoulders with her strong hands. ‘Now, you listen to me,’ she hissed. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do nothing. Let this happen and nobody will be harmed – that’s all you want anyway, isn’t it, Arianwyn?’ the High Elder asked, her voice sour and unkind. Her eyes scanned the people in the town square, her threat clear. Arianwyn would do nothing or she could harm everyone she loved.

  The anger pulsed through her like a current. She could feel her fingertips crackle with energy, even though she had not summoned a glyph.

  Should she fight back?

  How?

  There was no witch here to help her; the High Elder had seen to that. Miss Delafield was gone. Grandmother was helpless. Gimma was under the High Elder’s spell. The High Elder could hurt Grandmother or anyone else before Arianwyn had a chance to summon a spell. She couldn’t take that risk.

  So she stepped away, her legs wobbling.

  And she did nothing.

  She felt sick.

  The High Elder pulled the hood of her coat up as rain and snow-flecked wind whipped across the town square. She beckoned to Gimma who turned to follow, dragging Grandmother along with her.

  Grandmother glanced back at Arianwyn, her face – usually so composed and sure – a mask of fear and worry. It twisted Arianwyn’s heart until she thought she might die from sadness.

  ‘Grandma!’ Arianwyn cried as the three figures moved off across the town square, everyone giving them a wide berth.

  Arianwyn felt suddenly dizzy; she stepped back and half stumbled. But Salle and her father were there, strong and loving arms holding her, supporting her, even as it felt as if the sky was tumbling down on them all.

  Chapter 34

  FAITH & FAILURE

  rianwyn wasn’t sure what happened next, but she found herself sinking to the floor, Salle and her father holding on to her as best they could. She couldn’t move. She didn’t know how to. Wouldn’t the world just end right there and then and put her out of her misery?

  ‘Wyn, please,’ Salle begged. ‘Don’t sit here in the cold . . .’

  She felt Salle tug on her arm, trying to pull her up. She glanced across the town square to see where the High Elder was leading Grandma away; they disappeared across the square and turned on to Meadow Street.

  ‘They’ve gone,’ Arianwyn said sadly. She glanced up at her father. ‘I got it wrong, I know.’ She looked away, unable to meet his grey eyes. ‘You don’t have to give me a lecture.’

  Sergeant Gribble dropped into a crouch beside Arianwyn. His hand rested on her arm. ‘I’m not going to give you a lecture,’ he said softly. ‘I’m not going to say anything unless you want me to.’

  Arianwyn sniffed and looked up at him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said quietly, a huge tear coursing down her cheek.

  ‘So am I,’ her father replied, glancing away for a moment. ‘For everything.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I should have come home more. I should have made more effort to see you and your grandmother. But I think I was running away from . . . everything. And I think what happened in the Uris has affected me more than I thought. I’m’ – he took a huge shuddering breath – ‘frightened now, and I was never frightened before.’

  It felt strange to hear her father talking like that. Arianwyn didn’t know what to say and then she recalled her grandmother’s words after they had once faced a night ghast: ‘Fear is with us all at some time or other. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

  Her father gave a small chuckle. ‘I remember your mum saying that to me once.’ He smiled. ‘You know you look more and more like her, every day.’

  He reached up and brushed a curl from her face. She felt an odd sensation around her heart; it was a warmth, a flutter. She couldn’t remember the last time her father had said anything like this or if he ever had. Arianwyn felt for the photograph that Salle had given her. She had kept it in her pocket since that night, hoping it might bring her luck somehow. ‘Look,’ she said, drawing it out. ‘Salle gave it to me for Yule.’

  ‘You’re more like her than you know,’ Sergeant Gribble said quietly, his fingertips resting lightly on the photograph.

  ‘I’m nothing like her,’ Arianwyn said. ‘I mean, I look like her . . . but she was so much braver and better than me.’ She couldn’t bring herself to look down at the photograph.

  ‘But don’t you see that you are, not just to look at. But your good heart, your striving to do the right thing, to help. Putting yourself in danger to help others—’ He fell suddenly silent and looked away. Arianwyn saw him bring his hand up to his eyes. He turned back, his eyes glinting with tears. ‘You haven’t let anyone down, Arianwyn. I was wrong to say that the other day. I was angry, and you’re my little girl—’

  ‘But I’m not a little girl any more, Dad,’Arianwyn said.

  ‘I know, I know. And it took me a while to see that. I’ve heard all the great and amazing things you’ve done. I’ve seen how everyone here looks to you for help. And they’re right to. You are a fine witch. Just like your mum.’

  She glanced down at the photograph at last. Her mum smiled out at her, her long curly hair tumbling about her face. Her eyes were bright, her smile wide. One hand was raised in a wave. ‘Oh, Mum,’ Arianwyn said and it made her suddenly ache for her mother in a way she hadn’t in a long time. ‘I’ve let you down,’ she whispered to the photograph.

  ‘What did she say?’ she heard Mayor Belcher ask.

  ‘She feels like she’s let her mum down,’ Salle explained quietly.

  ‘And Grandma and
everyone else,’ Arianwyn said, unable to stop the tears from coming now.

  Sergeant Gribble wrapped his arms around Arianwyn and hugged her tightly. After a few moments he sat back and smiled. ‘Now then, what do you need us to do to help? I’m at your command.’ He gave her a small salute.

  Arianwyn shook her head. ‘We can’t risk putting the town in danger. We have to hope that Colin got through to Miss Newam at the C.W.A. and that they can get help here as soon as possible.’

  ‘Or perhaps your friend Estar will return with help. He seems like a resourceful fellow,’ Sergeant Gribble added.

  ‘But you have to go after her, now,’ Salle said.

  Arianwyn glanced across the town square in the direction the High Elder and Gimma had taken Grandma. ‘But I can’t ask the town to put itself at risk like this. My job is to protect Lull not to keep putting it in danger. Who knows what the High Elder might do?’

  ‘Nonsense!’

  Arianwyn looked up; it was Mayor Belcher who had spoken. And she assumed she had misheard him.

  He knelt down in the snow at Arianwyn’s side. ‘Just you listen here, young lady,’ he said. ‘You are our witch and we are very proud of you. Lull will stand by you now, to help you bring your grandmother back safely.’ She looked up at the mayor. He smiled gently. ‘For all the times you have put yourself in danger to help us, let us help you now.’ He grasped her hands in his own. ‘Let us do this for you, Arianwyn. Please.’

  ‘But I don’t know what to do,’ Arianwyn said, her voice small and useless.

  ‘Mere details – I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ Mayor Belcher said patting her arm.

  Arianwyn looked quickly at her father and the mayor. She glanced at Salle but didn’t dare meet her eyes for fear she would burst into tears. She could feel determination spreading through her like warmth.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said; her voice sounded small, like the seeds from a dandelion that might just evaporate and disappear in a strong gust of wind. She felt small in the vast space of the town square. ‘We have to stop the High Elder!’ She shakily got to her feet and looked at her family and her friends and her friends who had become her family.