by Jo Spurrier
I heard Aleida sigh. ‘It’s not that I don’t trust you, Dee, it’s just that, well, Gyssha got you once, she can do it again. I could make a ward to slow her down, but if she can’t possess you she’ll just kill you. There, you can open your eyes.’
I did, and then pursed my lips. ‘It doesn’t look any different,’ I complained.
She gave me an exasperated look. ‘Have some patience, kid, I haven’t called them up yet.’
Tucking the little pot away, she set the cauldron over the fire. ‘So, this plan,’ Aleida said. ‘There’s not all that much to it. You were right, before; all Gyssha has to do is wait for an opportunity to strike, or make an opportunity if she gets tired of waiting. So I’m going to give her one. Gyssha lived here for seventy-odd years, she has all kinds of caches and power-stores hidden around these hills. I bet she’s using them as a kind of fuel source. It’s hard for the dead to stay in our world; naked spirits are meant to go through the veil, so she’s fighting against the tide to stay here this long. If I start attacking her supply lines, she’ll be forced to take action — or she’ll just take the opportunity.’
‘In other words, you’re using yourself for bait.’
‘That’s the idea,’ she said, pouring the fresh milk into the pot over the coals.
I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, you’re still not all that strong.’ I couldn’t help but think of how, just a day or two ago, she’d drained all the energy from the fire in the kitchen, and how quickly it had been spent, like water leaking from a sprung barrel. It didn’t take much in the way of instinct to know that the power she’d raised from the sunrise was probably greater, but was it enough?
Then, before I even realised she was moving, she was right in front of me, her hands on my shoulders. ‘Listen to me, Elodie. Listen good. Don’t ever show fear. Don’t ever show weakness. The things we deal with day and night will eat us alive if they see that we fear them. If they see weakness they will hammer at it with all they have until we shatter and crumble. So make sure they only see what we choose to show them, all right? We are the eye of the storm. We are the darkness behind the stars. We are the glare of the sun, and nothing touches us unless we let it.’ She shifted her hands to my face, pressing her fingertips to my temples with a pressure that made me want to shrink away. ‘The heart of all witchcraft is here, kid. Whatever you will, will be, if only you have the resolve to bring it about. Bodies break, skin tears, but your mind is your greatest weapon and your strongest shield. Got it?’
I felt myself shaking. ‘But . . . I can’t. I can’t do this stuff. I can’t fight monsters and evil witches and demon-possessed trees and creatures from the nether realms. I can’t do any of that. All I know how to do is cook and clean and change dirty bottoms and wipe snotty noses.’
She drew herself up with a snort. ‘And is that all you want from your life, Dee?’
No. Gods no. I shook my head.
Aleida leaned close, her forehead grazing mine, her breath tickling my neck. ‘Say it,’ she said. ‘Come on, kid, say it. Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want this freedom to shape the world to your will. Say it!’
I closed my eyes and shivered. ‘It’s not that I don’t want it,’ I whispered. ‘I just . . . I don’t think I can do it.’
With a sigh she let me go, taking a step back. ‘Well, that’s where it all falls apart.’ She shook her head then, turning away, and I felt a pang deep in my chest. I wanted to take the words back, to turn back the clock and make a different choice, but what was I going to say? Yes, I want it, make me a witch, turn me loose on those monsters and warlocks and demons? I wasn’t kidding anyone. I was about as much use as the hens fossicking through the wilting garden, or the goat nibbling around the orchard. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
She gave me a narrow look that I read as disappointment. ‘If you can’t, you can’t. It’s not for me to say, and I’m not going to try and talk you into it. Some witches do, you know, they’ll back a young lass into a corner and badger her into saying yes, and nine times out of ten she’s dead within a year.
‘On the other hand, this is a baptism by fire if ever there was one, so maybe wait until it’s settled before you make the call. And, mark my words, Dee, you will have to make it, one way or another.’
‘That’s what Attwater said,’ I said, wrapping my arms around myself.
‘He knows a thing or two, old Attwater. Just don’t ever tell him I said so.’
I had to laugh at that, though inside I felt like weeping, or like gathering up all my gear and running away. The worst part was, I knew she’d let me. Hells, she’d give me some money and wish me a good trip. But where would I go? I could find work as a pot-girl or a housemaid, maybe; Aleida had offered that much the night I arrived. But as unnerving as this strange world of witchcraft and forest-sprites and realms beyond our own had proven, I also couldn’t bear the thought of turning away and leaving it all behind.
With an effort I pushed that thought aside. I had a reprieve, of sorts. We had to deal with Gyssha first. And who knows? Maybe the old witch would kill us both and I wouldn’t have to make the choice. ‘Look,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘Those fine words are all well and good, but I could still knock you down with a feather. How are you going to fight her?’
‘Strength of body and strength of mind are two very different things, kid. You’ll see.’
She turned back to the fire, and a basket she’d brought out from the kitchen, and to the pot over the fire she added a measure of honey and a collection of spices — curls of cinnamon bark, whole cloves, pods of cardamom and something else I didn’t recognise, which looked like a flower made of wood. I was watching with a blank gaze while my mind whirled like a pinwheel.
‘Aleida?’
‘Mm?’
‘What you said; whatever you will, will be — well that just doesn’t make any sense. The world doesn’t work that way.’
She snorted with amusement. ‘Are you going to teach me how to be a witch now, child?’
‘But . . . but, if that’s true, why did you send me out for those ingredients yesterday? You should have been able to make a potion out of anything you had at hand or out of nothing at all. And the curse, can’t you just will it away?’
She glanced up from the fire, lips quirked in a sardonic twist. ‘Why didn’t you ever just convince your ma to leave your arsehole stepfather? Why didn’t you make them send you to school?’
Her voice was soft, but the quiet force behind the words made me take a step back. ‘It not that simple!’ I said. ‘I would if I could!’
‘Exactly. What you’re talking about: brewing a potion from pure water, willing away a death-curse, sure, they’re theoretically possible, but they require perfection, a pinnacle of the craft. If you make it as a witch, a real witch, you might manage something like that once or twice in your life; if you hit that perfect moment when the stars align and the wind sings in your ear and you can feel the eyes of the gods upon you. The rest of the time we’re just slogging through the mud, trying to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, cobbling together something good enough to get through the day. Understand?’
‘I think so,’ I said. ‘Have you ever had that perfect moment?’
Silently, she added a pinch of tiny tangled threads of dark orange, and the moment they touched the milk it bloomed yellow. ‘Once,’ she said. ‘Just once. When I killed Gyssha.’
She stirred the milk, and in the rising steam I caught the scent of honey and spices. On an empty belly it was near enough to make me swoon. ‘Lord and Lady, what is that you’re making?’
‘An offering. I’m going to call up some sprites to find Gyssha’s caches and nodes. This is what’s going to draw them in.’
‘What about the earthbeasts?’ I said. ‘They’re fair terrorising the countryside — will they stop once Gyssha’s gone?’
Aleida looked pained. ‘I don’t know, Dee. I c
an’t tell if she’s woken them up or if they were just made to rouse and wreak havoc if anything happened to her. I’ll have to look into it.’
‘Maybe you’d better start a list,’ I said.
Again, she snorted. ‘No, no, can’t be having with that. If I don’t remember, clearly it’s not important. All right, this is ready now, we’d best begin. Come give me a hand, would you?’
Together, we lifted the cauldron off the coals and tipped about half of the brew into a shallow dish balanced on a low trivet. Aleida crouched beside it to scatter a few flowers on the yellow milk. Spread out like that and steaming warm, the heavenly scent of it was even stronger, and I breathed it in with pleasure. She waved me back and pulled the wand from her belt. Standing over the steaming dish of fragrant milk, she traced a shape into the air. I felt my eyes widen as the tip of the wand left a glowing blue tracery suspended in the air, the glow of it playing over the rising steam and the golden milk. I watched her draw a complex cluster of curves and triangles and lines and dots, all marked out with dizzying speed. Once it was drawn she swapped the wand to her other hand and tapped the glowing shape with her fingertips. It shattered at her touch as though it were made of spun glass, breaking into countless fragments. They hung in the air for the briefest moment and then shot outwards and were gone.
Aleida slipped the wand back into her belt, and with a ladle she dished out two cups of the spiced milk, passing one to me. I took a sip, and for a moment thought I’d expire with bliss. Sweet and spicy, exotic and comforting, all at the same time. I licked my lips, tasting honey. ‘Now what?’
‘Now we wait.’ She sank to sit cross-legged on the ground, sipping on her milk, and gesturing to me to join her. I did, only to wince when something pointed poked me in the backside. I knew at once what it was.
Aleida gave me a peculiar look when I set my cup down and felt across the damp earth, but her expression cleared when I found a crystal poking up through the grass, and plucked it out. It was only a little one this time, no longer than my thumb, but it was tinted purple, deepening to dusk at its tip.
Aleida raised an eyebrow at the sight of it. ‘Lord and Lady, Dee, and you—’
‘Don’t say it,’ I snapped. ‘Don’t say a word.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,’ she said. Then she held out a hand. ‘Can I take a look?’
I handed it over. ‘I keep finding them everywhere. I suppose Gyssha must have buried the blasted things, like you were saying.’
Holding the stone up to the light, Aleida shook her head. ‘No. No, it’s not Gyssha’s.’ She handed the stone back to me with a faint smile. ‘I think you’ve made a friend, Elodie. Someone likes you, he’s bringing you little gifts.’
‘What? Who?’ My first thought was of Kian, but somehow I knew that wasn’t right.
She tipped her head back to look up at the lightening sky. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this if you don’t want to be a witch, but screw it. This is a truth known to, well, to anyone who cares to know the first thing about witchcraft or wizardry and takes the trouble to look it up, but technically it’s the first Mystery of the craft. There is another world that lies alongside this one, and over it and under it and woven through it like threads in a cloth; the world of elemental forces and the Divine. This realm is inhabited by spirits, sprites, elementals, godlings and the gods themselves. And you’ve been befriended by one of them; a spirit of crystals and gems, I think.’
‘I have? How? Why?’
She nodded towards the house. While I’d been busy with the animals she’d propped the door open with the huge slab of crystals I’d hauled out and cleaned on my first morning at the cottage. ‘Because of that, I’d say. Most witches have a few clusters like that. Spirits are drawn to them like bees to nectar. This is the same,’ she raised her cup, still steaming and fragrant. ‘You hauled that big cluster outside, didn’t you, and cleaned it off?’
‘Yes?’
‘And I bet it looked right lovely, out in the sunlight? Well, you’re not the only one who thought so. Some spirits love stones like that; they’ll take up residence, like a cat in a patch of sunshine. When you hauled him out into the light and cleaned him up so nicely, he decided that you must like crystals as much as he does. So he keeps finding them and giving them to you.’
‘I . . . really?’
She nodded, and took another sip of milk. ‘Ah, look, they’re starting to come now.’ She turned to look out over the field, and I saw something glowing coming bumbling towards us, keeping low to the ground. The way it moved made me think of leaves being tossed in a fitful wind. It seemed so strange, so counter to everything I knew about the world, that it made my skin prickle all over. I took a half-step back without really thinking about it and watched as the glowing orb came tumbling over the ground. It bounced up onto the rim of the bowl and sat there, casting a deep green glow onto the dish of warm milk.
That’s a spirit? I almost said it aloud, but I didn’t want to invite another withering look so I tried to think of another way to phrase the question. ‘When you say spirits . . . what sort are these?’
‘Just spirits,’ she said again with a shrug. ‘Sprites, elementals — lesser elementals, I mean, not the big guys. Some folk try to divide them up into types; there’s whole books written about the subject, but I’ve never found it to matter that much.’ As she spoke a pale, icy blue orb floated down from above and seemed to be drifting purposely towards her cup. Aleida quickly shifted it to her other hand. ‘No, not there, you silly thing, that’s mine. Down there, down there.’ She fanned it with her hand until it bumped against the dish of warm milk. As it settled, another one climbed up to the rim, this one coloured a dark, dusky purple. ‘Most of them aren’t too bright, either. I don’t expect we’ll get a huge turn-out, not after the way Gyssha treated them, but I’ll let the summoning go a little longer before I close the circle.’
‘What did Gyssha do to them?’
‘Well, they’re kind of like chickens,’ Aleida said. ‘You keep them for eggs, and to hunt out pests in the garden, but sometimes you want a chicken in the pot, too. Gyssha was rather more keen on the pot than the eggs, so they’re a bit wary. This isn’t too bad, though a few more would be welcome.’
‘Can I see one up close?’ I asked. ‘Or will that scare them away?’
‘You can go as close as you like,’ Aleida said with a smile.
I crouched down, kneeling on the flagstones, and peered at the little glowing blobs on the rim of the dish. There were nearly two dozen of them now. Some really were blobs, just little formless clumps of light, but others . . . one looked like a little harvest mouse, except that where its ears would have been were two flowers and its tail was a stalk of grass. Next to it was perched . . . well, it was shaped like a weasel, but made up of repeating segments like a pill bug; it had six pairs of legs along its furry body and it sat contentedly within its green glow, sipping on the spiced milk.
‘Funny things, aren’t they?’ Aleida said. ‘They don’t really have physical bodies, they tend to take their appearance from the things around them.’
‘Lord and Lady,’ I said as I backed away, and then I shook my head, trying to remember what we’d been speaking of. ‘Spirits,’ I said. ‘Is that what’s been hiding stones for me to find?’
‘No, that’s an earth spirit, of a higher order. It has a little more power than these fellows, enough to move a stone to where you can find it.’
‘What does it look like? Like those ones?’ I pointed to the milk dish.
‘No, no, different order of spirit entirely. Here, give me that amethyst, and I’ll see if I can call him out.’ I pulled the crystal out of my apron pocket and Aleida touched a finger to the tip of it. It hummed faintly in my hands, vibrating for just a moment, and then a shaft of blue light swelled upwards from the glassy stone. It moved slowly, as though the space around it were as thick and viscous as honey, and then bloomed into a multifaceted shape, all planes and lines and angles, glittering
like frost with a blue and purple glow. It reminded me of the paper snowflakes Lucette made for midwinter, with shapes cut from paper and then slotted together; only this was far more complex, dizzying in its intricacy. I couldn’t take my eyes away from it. ‘Normally he’d be by the big cluster,’ Aleida said. ‘But like I said, he likes you, so he’s staying close by.’
After a few moments the shape began to fold back in on itself, withdrawing back into the stone I guessed, and at last I was able to look away.
‘Looks like they’re just about done with the milk, let’s get started before they all wander off again.’
I looked around to find that the milk was nearly gone, with only a slick of it across the bottom of the dish.
Aleida gestured at me to stay where I was as she stood and moved to pull the rope in and complete the circle. Then, with the wand, she drew a stroke across the two ends of rope, muttering some words under her breath. With each word she spoke, a little puff of blue glow drifted from her lips, and as she wielded the wand it left a glowing tracery in the air.
As soon as the circle closed, the spirits gathered on the rim of the dish leaped up into the air, tumbling over each other like critters caught in a trap, throwing themselves against the invisible wall Aleida’s circle had cast, like a bumblebee trying to headbutt its way through a window.
‘Oh, calm down,’ Aleida said to them. ‘No one’s going to hurt you. I have a job for you all — come here, take a look at this.’
With the spirits hovering around her in a cloud she reached for the effigy, and set it down between the fire and the milk-dish. ‘Take a good look at it,’ she said to the hovering spirits. ‘There are other things out there made by the one who made this. Go seek them out, then come back and tell me what you’ve found.’ She still held the wand in her hand, and as she spoke she drew another symbol, more blue lines that hung in the air as though frozen in place. Another tap with the tip of the wand, and it shattered into shards of light just as the first had, each one flying to one of the spirits and adhering to them as a little blue speck. ‘Good, then,’ Aleida said, and turned to open the circle. ‘Go on your way, little ones, and come back when you’ve found something.’
