A Witch Come True

by James Nicol

  Miss Delafield laughed again. ‘Sounds like it, dear. Certainly the Director has retracted the previous posting, along with several other daft decisions that were signed off by the High Elder.’ She looked thoughtful for a few moments. ‘How were we all so easily fooled?’ As they carried on inside she continued, ‘Who knows, dear, I might take a well-earned holiday whilst I’m waiting to hear what they want to do with me.’

  They passed through the doors of the C.W.A. and into the reception area which was packed full of witches all in their identical navy uniforms. Some were rushing here and there while others stood in small groups talking quickly and quietly. A few glanced across as Arianwyn and Miss Delafield entered.

  ‘Is every witch in the kingdom here?’ Miss Delafield asked.

  They’d only gone a few metres when Colin and Miss Newam came rushing forwards from the crowds. They both waved and Colin called, ‘Wyn!’

  ‘Hi, Colin, Miss Newam,’ Arianwyn said as they all came together amongst the waiting witches.

  ‘Miss Gribble,’ Miss Newam said. Her voice was lighter than usual, but she still wore her usual ill-fitting black suit, thick spectacles and a slightly sour expression. ‘And Miss Delafield, back from . . . where was it that you were re-stationed?’

  ‘Don’t ask!’ Miss Delafield said quickly. ‘So, what’s going on, any news?’

  Colin raised an eyebrow and motioned to a small alcove in the far corner of the reception hall, tucked out of the way of the other witches. When they were all assembled he said, ‘Director Coot has been in the council chamber all day with the remaining members of the council who didn’t resign after the news of the High Elder’s . . .’ He hesitated, searching for the correct word.

  ‘Treachery!’ Miss Newam spat.

  ‘Yes,’ Colin agreed. ‘So, they’ve been in there all morning nominating and voting new members of the council.’

  ‘But there has been a lot of disagreement, I can tell you,’ Miss Newam added. She looked rather pleased about this.

  ‘My grandmother sent word for me to come,’ Arianwyn explained.

  ‘Yes, she wants to see you in a while, but first of all . . .’ He paused and glanced at Miss Newam. His cheeks bore two bright spots. He shifted from foot to foot.

  ‘Miss Alverston has asked to see you,’ Miss Newam said in her matter-of-fact way.

  ‘A lot,’ Colin added.

  ‘Oh. Gimma,’ Arianwyn breathed.

  A few minutes later they all stood in a corridor looking through long glass doors into a small courtyard garden. Bright purple and yellow crocuses prodded up through the earth. A man and woman sat on a bench talking with a young girl with the palest of pale blonde hair that looked like high clouds at sunrise.

  She was chatting happily with the two witches as they drank from mugs. Her skin, though washed-out, was no longer grey and the black film was gone from her eyes.

  Arianwyn felt a surge of relief, flooding her like warm sunlight. ‘It’s the seam of magic, isn’t it?’ Arianwyn asked, looking at Colin and Miss Newam. ‘It really worked!’

  Colin nodded and smiled.

  ‘Your theory was correct, Arianwyn,’ Miss Newam said softly. ‘The seam of wild magic does purge the hex from living matter.’

  ‘We tested it a lot before trying it with Gimma,’ Colin explained quietly.

  ‘Silas and Judith have been working with Gimma for the last few weeks. I’ve been carefully supervising them myself,’ Miss Newam added.

  Gimma was free of the hex at last?

  Without waiting a second longer, Arianwyn opened the doors and stepped into the courtyard.

  ‘Gimma . . .’ Arianwyn said quietly.

  Gimma glanced up at Arianwyn, the two girls’ eyes locking on to each other. The black film of the hex no longer present, Gimma’s bright blue eyes shone back again.

  ‘Arianwyn!’

  ‘Hi, Gimma.’

  Gimma looked at Judith and Silas and Miss Newam, who had followed Arianwyn into the courtyard, and said, ‘Um . . . d’you mind?’ Arianwyn smiled at this hint of the old, superior Gimma.

  ‘Colin said you’d been asking for me,’ Arianwyn said, once they had left.

  Gimma looked like she was considering her words carefully before she spoke. Eventually she said, ‘I wanted to say . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘Thank you.’

  Arianwyn felt her cheeks warm. ‘You don’t have to thank me, Gimma.’

  ‘But you stopped the High Elder. And worked out about the hex and the seam of magic.’

  ‘Not on my own,’ Arianwyn said, smiling. ‘And you pulled me from the river before I drowned. I should be thanking you too.’

  Gimma fixed her eyes on her again. ‘You didn’t give up on me, though. You tried to be my friend . . . despite everything.’

  ‘I’m a bit stubborn like that.’ Arianwyn smiled.

  ‘In a strange way, I think you’re the only friend I’ve ever really had, Arianwyn Gribble,’ Gimma said quietly, glancing down at her hands. Scars from the hex were still visible, but the heavy blackness was gone. Now the swirls and twists were pale under her skin, which was flushed pink once more.

  Perhaps she would always bear the scars.

  ‘You can always make more friends. It’s not as hard as you might think,’ Arianwyn said gently. Gimma seemed to consider this for a while in silence, until Arianwyn asked, ‘What will you do once they finish treating you?’ deciding it was better to look forward than dwell on the past. ‘Will you ask for a new assignment somewhere?’

  Gimma shook her head. ‘I have no idea.’ She studied the crocuses in the patch of garden. ‘I’m not sure I can go back to being a witch and working for the C.W.A. – not after . . . everything. Besides, I never really wanted to be a witch anyway.’

  ‘It’s all I ever wanted to be,’ Arianwyn said, trying to think of what her life would have been like if she hadn’t been born a witch like her grandmother and mother. What would she be doing now?

  ‘I know. And you’re the best witch there is. And it’s not just me that thinks that, you know.’ Gimma lifted her head towards the glass doors, where everyone else was waiting.

  ‘She’s right!’ Miss Delafield said and blushed.

  ‘Absolutely right,’ Colin agreed.

  ‘Possibly the finest witch of her generation,’ Miss Newam added quietly.

  Arianwyn could feel her cheeks flushing.

  ‘But I do need to try and make up for what I’ve done, somehow,’ Gimma continued.

  ‘Gimma, that wasn’t your fault, it was the hex,’ Arianwyn said.

  Gimma gave a small laugh. ‘No, well, not just that. But from before the hex. I’ve not been a good person, Wyn, you know that and . . . well, I can’t blame that all on the hex, can I?’ The courtyard was quiet again for a moment and then Gimma said, ‘I have to be different now.’

  ‘You can be whatever you want to be, Gimma. But whatever it is, I hope we can be friends now?’

  Gimma nodded and then smiled shyly, reaching out her own hand and taking hold of Arianwyn’s. The two new friends sat quietly in the courtyard, bathed in bright spring sunshine.

  Chapter 37

  The NEW COUNCIL

  en minutes later Arianwyn and Miss Delafield walked through the huge double doors of the council chamber. The room was flooded with light from the long windows that filled the far wall. A cluster of witches stood in the middle of the room in quiet conversation. ‘Only twelve of them so far, dear,’ Miss Delafield said quietly. ‘They’ve not selected a full council yet – or a new High Elder, it would seem.’

  The witches were surrounded by administrative staff from the C.W.A. Director Coot stood slightly to one side, talking intently to Grandma.

  The chatter in the room fell to a hush as Arianwyn and Miss Delafield approached them.

  Arianwyn had no idea what was going on, but she assumed she was about to be quizzed over her various encounters with the High Elder. ‘Ah, Miss Gribble,’ Director Coot called. ‘So good to see you agai
n.’ He shook Arianwyn’s hand. His felt rather sweaty. He leant in closely and said quietly, ‘You’ve come a long way since your evaluation and the last time we met, haven’t you? Quite the rising star in our midst, it would seem.’ He smiled and looked at Grandma. ‘You must be remarkably proud of her, Elder Stronelli.’

  Grandma smiled broadly. ‘I always have been.’

  ‘Now then,’ Director Coot said, clapping his hands, ‘if I can have everyone’s attention, please.’

  The chatter in the room died down again and all the assembled witches and C.W.A. staff turned to look at Director Coot. ‘Miss Delafield, if you could come forward please?’ He pointed to a patch of floor just in front of him.

  A small thrill passed through Arianwyn. She glanced at Grandma, who smiled and winked. Was Miss Delafield about to be asked to join the Council of Elders? One of the elders stepped forward and bowed her head for a moment. Miss Delafield shot Arianwyn a look of wide-eyed excitement. What was happening?

  ‘Jucasta Delafield,’ the other witch said calmly. ‘For your loyal service and ability. Your hard work and dedication to honouring the magic within the Kingdom of Hylund, we’ – she gestured to the assembled witches who had closed in around her, forming a horseshoe shape – ‘proudly invite you to join our Council of Elders.’

  There was a loud clatter of applause from everyone. Arianwyn felt warm tears of joy on her cheeks and gave a loud whooping cry that rang out through the council chamber.

  Miss Delafield had brought her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide.

  The witch who had spoken then opened her palm, and in it rested the silver-and-gold star badge of the council. ‘Do you accept this position of service and devotion?’

  ‘I accept it willingly, dear,’ Miss Delafield said, her voice shaking a little.

  There was more applause as the council closed in to surround their thirteenth member. Arianwyn saw a flash of silver and gold as the badge was pinned to Miss Delafield’s jacket. Then Grandma moved forward and handed her a folded talma of bright silver cloth. Miss Delafield wiped at her eyes and then turned to beam at Arianwyn, who was wiping away her own tears again.

  After several minutes of excited chatter in the room, Arianwyn suddenly found herself standing facing the horseshoe of council witches. She felt paralysed, frozen to the spot. So now came the interrogation!

  She glanced at her grandmother who didn’t look worried at all, just excited and proud: always the look of pride shining in her eyes.

  A witch stepped out of the group and approached Arianwyn slowly. ‘Arianwyn Gribble, after much discussion and in light of what you have done for the kingdom, the new council has decided to extend to you the opportunity to join us.’

  Arianwyn wasn’t sure she had heard correctly; surely there had been some sort of mistake? She hadn’t just said what Arianwyn thought she had said.

  Had she?

  Arianwyn glanced across at her grandmother who smiled. At Miss Delafield, who stood open-mouthed. Colin gave her a double thumbs-up as the elder witch continued formally, ‘Arianwyn Gribble, for your loyal service, for your skill and bravery, your dedication to upholding the magic of the Kingdom of Hylund and for your kindness, we, the new Council of Elders, invite you to join us.’ She reached out her hand, and there nestled in her palm was a badge, a silver five-pointed star brooch, larger than the one she wore now and edged with gold.

  The badge of the council. Just like the one her grandmother wore, just like the one Miss Delafield now wore as well.

  ‘I . . . I don’t know what to say,’ Arianwyn said, her words hushed and whispery, her throat dry with nerves. She stared down at the badge again, the lights from above blinking off it.

  ‘You would be the first witch in recorded history to be made an elder at such a young age,’ Director Coot said proudly. ‘But we feel that your skills at this time would be an advantage to the new council as it forges ahead, putting the recent past behind itself.’

  What should she do? And what did this mean? Arianwyn let her eyes rove around the room, falling on the faces of the rest of the council, the other thirteen witches, including Miss Delafield and her grandmother. Some looked expectant, excited. Others looked uncertain, nervous. No doubt this had been a difficult decision for the council to make; she felt sure she was certainly not everyone’s first choice.

  ‘Perhaps we should allow Miss Gribble some time to think this over,’ Miss Newam said from behind her, where she had been standing all this time like a sentry.

  Arianwyn felt suddenly terribly grateful for her. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly as the council filed out, leaving her alone with Grandmother, Colin and Miss Delafield in the chamber.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Grandmother asked, pulling her into a tight embrace.

  ‘I don’t know. Why do they want me?’ Arianwyn asked. She looked up into her grandmother’s pale eyes, suddenly nervous that she had pulled some strings, just as she had once before to secure Arianwyn’s original posting in Lull.

  ‘There are many reasons to have you join the council and many reasons not to. The council feels that your knowledge of the quiet glyphs is important for our future, for the protection of the Four Kingdoms, not just Hylund,’ Grandmother said.

  ‘It is a huge honour to be asked to join at such a young age,’ Colin said.

  ‘An honour that you deserve,’ Miss Delafield added.

  The room was quiet for several long minutes. Arianwyn walked slowly across the room, not really paying attention to where she was going or what she was looking at. Thoughts drifted in and out of her mind. Mainly about her mother who had died too young to become an elder witch. She slipped out the photograph Salle had given her for Yule. It was a little crumpled now; she really should get it framed soon. Her mother smiled up at her. She would have loved to serve on the council, she was sure of that. But did that mean that Arianwyn had to do the same?

  Her mind drifted back to Lull and the Great Wood, to Estar and the feylings. They still needed her help as much as the rest of the kingdom, didn’t they?

  ‘I can’t accept,’ Arianwyn said, breaking the silence at last.

  ‘What?’ Miss Delafield looked up.

  Arianwyn heard her grandmother sigh but didn’t know if it was a good sigh or a bad sigh. She looked at Colin who smiled at her.

  ‘It is a great honour to have been asked. And I know other witches would give their broomsticks to have this chance. But I never wanted to be on the council. And I don’t think I’d make a very good council member either. I want to go back to Lull. To carry on helping there. The hex still threatens the Great Wood, the feylings need help establishing their new home. I want to understand more about natural magic and how it combats the hex. I don’t want to be in meetings, cooped up here all the time. I want to be in Lull.’

  She saw her friends smiling at her. She had not made the wrong decision, she was sure.

  ‘And that is precisely why the council needs someone like you,’ Grandmother said a little sadly. ‘I support your decision, of course. Though I’d have rather loved to have my granddaughter on the council beside me.’

  ‘And perhaps one day you will,’ Miss Delafield said. ‘Arianwyn will have her chance again. Of that you can be certain!’

  Grandmother smiled. ‘But of course.’

  Chapter 38

  A STRANGE SPELL

  hank you, Miss Gribble.’ Mrs Myddleton smiled as she packed away a parcel of charms and ushered her collection of children towards the Spellorium door.

  ‘Bye, Miss Witch,’ Cyril called cheerfully as they stepped out into Kettle Lane, already busy with people coming and going.

  A warm spring breeze stirred the door charm, the red ribbons fluttering, the six silver bells singing gently. Arianwyn turned back to the newspaper that lay open on the counter top. At the top of the page was the article she had been reading before Mrs Myddleton had appeared to collect her order:

  COUNCIL OF ELDER WITCHES SELECTS NEW LEADER

  Nearl
y three months since the Hylund Council of Elder Witches declared their previous leader, Constance Braithwaite, missing presumed dead, they have now elected a new High Elder from within their ranks.

  During a secret ballot and after three days of talks, interviews and discussion, Eloise McGiven, an elder witch from Occlestree, was selected by eighty-five per cent of the witches’ council, which was itself dramatically reconstructed following revelations of corruption led by Elder Braithwaite . . .

  Arianwyn looked up as a sudden clatter of footsteps sounded by the doorway and Mayor Belcher burst through, panting, his cheeks shiny and bright red. ‘Oh, Miss Gribble!’ he wheezed. ‘There you are!’

  ‘Ssssh!’ Arianwyn said quickly, casting a glance back to the counter. In a small wicker basket tucked to one side Bob was sleeping. ‘The kits are fast asleep!’ she hushed the mayor.

  Bob had returned quite unexpectedly just a few days before, but what was more remarkable was that Bob had returned with two tiny moon hare kits.

  ‘Oh, I am sorry!’ Mayor Belcher’s voice fell into a slightly too-loud whisper.

  ‘Is she there?’ A sharp voice cut through and a woman emerged from behind Mayor Belcher. She wore sunshine-yellow trousers and a jumper covered in a busy pattern, almost as bright as the spring day outside.

  It took Arianwyn more than a few seconds to recognize her. ‘Miss Newam?’ she said a little uncertainly. She looked quite different free of her ill-fitting dark suits!

  ‘Arianwyn!’ Miss Newam called.

  ‘Hush, my dear – the baby moon hares!’ Mayor Belcher said, pointing to the basket and placing an arm around Miss Newam’s shoulders, his eyes wide and full of wonder as he peered into the basket.

  Bob stretched a little and set about washing the babies for a few moments and then yawned and went back to sleep.

  ‘Yes, quite sweet I suppose, if you like that sort of thing.’ Miss Newam sniffed, but Arianwyn noticed that she gazed just a little longer at the moon hares curled around each other inside the basket, the smallest of smiles on her lips.