She laid out two dozen scones on her baking sheets and popped them into the oven to bake. A few minutes later, the aroma of baking citrus began to fill the air. Horace hopped through the pantry door.
“That smells delicious, Millie,” he croaked. “Can I have some?”
Millie knelt down next to him. “Those scones are especially for you, Horace. I talked to Mistress Mallow today, and I think I know how to change you back.”
“With scones?” the ghost asked, flicking out his tongue.
“Why not?” she replied. “It was chocolate sauce that got us into this mess, wasn’t it?”
“How soon will they be ready?” Horace asked.
Millie peeked into the oven. “Another five minutes.”
“Breek!” Horace said. “I hate waiting.” He blinked at her. “Why are you covered in mud?”
“I’ll take a bath later. Let me put on a kettle for tea, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Millie told Horace about her day until the scones were ready. As she pulled them out to cool, Horace said, “I’m sorry, Millie.”
Millie set down the second baking sheet. “It’s not your fault.”
“I don’t mean about your day.” Horace flicked his tongue out a few times, then said, “I’ve been a jerk to you. It’s my own fault I’m a frog. I knew better than to eat that chocolate sauce. But I was so ashamed, I didn’t want to think about that. I wanted it to be your fault, not mine.”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” Millie said, scraping scones onto the cooling rack.
“But you’ve been having all this trouble at school, and I had no idea,” Horace said. “I’ve been punishing you for my problems when you have problems of your own. I should have been helping you. What are you going to do about Cretacia?”
Millie sighed. “I don’t know, but I’ve got a few days to figure that out. Here, the scones are ready.” She put one on a plate for him. “Now let’s see whether I should pour your tea into a cup or a saucer.”
Horace hopped up to the table and cautiously flicked his tongue out. It sank deep into the scone and came back out covered in crumbs. “Mmm... delicious,” Horace said, sliding the lids shut on his slitted eyes.
Suddenly he gave a great, deep moan. “BRRRRREEECCCCCKKKKKKK!” His shape turned misty, expanded, and reformed as an indistinct human, standing in the middle of the kitchen table. He looked at himself, raising his arms, draped in his old chains. “I’m back! Millie, you did it!”
Millie’s stomach felt warm and happy, but maybe that was just the tea. “Cup it is,” she said and began to pour.
The problem with Endsday was that there was no school. On the other hand, Millie got to dawdle in bed that morning. She really didn’t want to face her mother just yet. But her stomach grumbled loudly, so she threw off her black patchwork quilt and padded down to the kitchen.
Millie stoked up the oven. She took down the bread dough she’d left to rise the night before and formed two loaves, put them in pans, and left them to rise. She boiled potatoes for hash browns, then put them in the sink to cool and popped the bread in the oven. In a skillet, she laid three thick slices of bacon, and she put on a pot of water for soft-boiled eggs. As the bacon finished, she pulled the slices out, tossed in chopped onions, and grated the cooled potatoes right into the skillet.
It was easy to feel her magic this morning, as though it had always been there, a part of her, but she worked on not letting it spill into her cooking this time. She just made the change so that Horace could eat her food as usual.
Bogdana finally came down as Millie pulled the bread from the oven. “You were out late,” Millie said. “Soft-boiled egg?” At her mother’s nod, she gently dropped three eggs into the boiling water.
Bogdana settled herself at the kitchen table, not even bothering with the dining room. “Do you know what the Council discussed last night? Your cousin Cretacia.”
Millie nearly dropped the jam jar she was setting out. “I thought that would be a Coven matter.”
“I had to argue long and hard to make it so. The Dodonoi delegate was quite angry. Dodonoi children are rare enough without people going around and trying to kidnap them.” She rubbed her temples. “In the end, I convinced her that the Coven would be best suited to mete out justice.
“Now, what’s your involvement in all this?” Bogdana looked at Millie with an odd mix of bewilderment and hope. “You sprouted this treeling?”
Millie nodded.
“And where did you get the cacao bean? I thought you’d stopped trying to grind your own chocolate.”
“I transformed it,” Millie said, “from a regular bean.”
Bogdana blinked. “You did? You performed a successful transformation?”
Millie nodded. “Apparently, I’m pretty good at it.”
“Then Horace...?”
“Back to normal,” Millie said. “Horace! Breakfast!”
Horace slid through the pantry door. “Mmm, bacon and fresh bread,” he said. “Good morning, Millie, Bogdana. Look, I’m my old self again!” He twirled happily through the wall and back again.
Bogdana spluttered. “I don’t believe it. How did you do that?”
“I just had to transform the completion element into spirit food so Horace could eat it,” Millie explained.
“Oh,” Bodgana said, at a loss. “It seems you’ve learned quite a lot at school. What else have you learned?”
Millie set out the soft-boiled eggs in their cups, then took the letter down from its shelf and, with a trembling hand, gave it to her mother. “Here, I think you should read this first.”
As Millie cracked the top off her egg, Bogdana broke the seal on the letter and unrolled it. “Chamomile tea?” she muttered, munching hash browns as she read. “Insect repellent? A Dome of Silence, really? Mud? Charms?”
Bogdana put down the letter. “Headmistress Pteria informs me that I have probably been charmed.” She stood up and looked herself over. “Greatest dark darkness, where did all these come from?” Millie’s mother began brushing herself off with her hands, and Millie felt little cracklings of magic skittering off into the corners of the room.
Bogdana gave herself a final shake and blinked twice. “Well, that was a surprise. How long have you been charming me, Ludmilla?”
Millie wanted to hide under the table, but she stayed seated. Keep calm. You can do this. “I really don’t know. I didn’t know I was doing it until yesterday.”
A gleam came into Bogdana’s eyes. She strode forward and seized Millie by the chin, turning her face from one side to the other. “Hmm, yes, I see it now. Your power has been growing for some time. You charmed your whole class?” Bogdana asked, and Millie nodded sheepishly.
A deep, satisfied smile spread across Bogdana’s face. “So. You’re a kitchen witch, despite my best efforts.”
Millie’s jaw dropped in shock. “What? You knew?”
“Oh, darkness, it was so obvious,” Bogdana said. “Mud pies, gingerbread men. What a tired old cliché. Kitchen magic went out of fashion at least two centuries ago. I suppose you’ll be wanting a gingerbread house next.”
“Um, not really...” Millie stuttered.
“I did my best, I really did,” Bogdana went on. “I tried everything I could to steer you onto a path of power. Now it seems I was right. You have developed real power, Ludmilla.”
“I have?”
Bogdana gave Millie a toothy grin. “Do you know how powerful the wards at that school are? How powerful mine are? And you overcame them without even trying! You are an exceedingly powerful witch, just as I’ve always hoped you would be.”
Giddy with excitement, Bogdana drew Millie into a bone-crushing embrace. Millie, completely confused, burst into tears, which caused Bogdana to drop her back into her chair. “Why, whatever is the matter with you? You should be exultant!”
Millie shook her head. “I d-don’t know,” she sobbed. “It’s just... it’s all so m-much!”
Bogdana plumped herself down beside Millie and put her arm around Millie’s shoulders. “Oh, I understand. Great power can be a trifle scary. But just think, Ludmilla! Think of the terror you will strike into the hearts of your enemies! At a mere eleven years of age, you can already overcome the most potent of wards. Who will be safe from you? No one!” Bogdana rose to her feet, triumphant.
“Oh, just wait until the Coven hears about this! I can hardly wait to tell Hepsibat. Thinks her Cretacia’s so special. Now Cretacia will be punished, and you’ll rise within the Coven’s hierarchy to take her place.”
Darkness! Cretacia wasn’t entirely wrong to be jealous. Are all the witches like this, constantly trying to best each other? “What will happen to Cretacia?” Millie asked.
Bogdana waved her hand. “Nothing serious. We’ll bind her power for a while.”
“B-bind her power? That sounds awful,” Millie said.
“Oh, yes, it will be hard for her,” Bogdana said, gloating. “She won’t be able to use a speck of magic until the binding is lifted.”
As much as Cretacia deserved it, Millie felt sorry for her. That was just how she’d felt all these years. And then she thought, that’s how I felt in the kitchen yesterday. “Mother, are there other cases when a person’s power might be bound?”
Bogdana looked sharply at her. “Generally, it’s for misuse of power. Why?”
Millie took a deep breath. “Have you ever put a binding on me?”
Bogdana flushed a deep green. “No! Why would you even think such a thing?”
Millie blew out. “Well, I’ve been so bad at magic for so long.”
“Darkness, no, child. I don’t want you to fail, I want you to succeed. If I’d put a binding on you, you would never have learned to use magic, and I so wanted that for you.” Bogdana smiled at her daughter. “To have true power, to take your rightful place as a Coven leader.”
“Really?” Millie said. She felt a warm glow in her stomach.
“Oh, yes,” Bogdana confirmed. “But you couldn’t do that as a useless kitchen witch. So I placed a binding on the kitchen.”
Millie blinked. “You what?”
“To do kitchen magic, you need a kitchen,” Bogdana explained. “I just placed a magical barrier on the kitchen to prevent you from using kitchen magic. That way, you’d be forced to develop your other magical abilities. And it worked!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “You’ve demonstrated that. Extremely powerful charms! Rare transformations! You’re going to be a great power, I can feel it!”
“But... but Horace is magical, and he can be in the kitchen,” Millie protested.
Bogdana sighed. “I had to place an exception in the barrier for him, allowing only spirit magic. Doubtless that’s the loophole you found and exploited in order to make your charms. I never noticed them because I assumed you couldn’t be charming me with your food. Silly me.”
Millie stared at her mother. “All this time,” she said slowly. “All this time, when you were telling me I was worthless, you knew I could do magic?”
“Well, I had to,” Bogdana said. “I couldn’t allow you to think that your kitchen magic was acceptable. Every time you turned a potion into jelly or enchanted a corset to become a roast turkey, I had to stop you from thinking that was proper magic.” She looked down at Millie. “Believe me, I didn’t enjoy it at all.”
“You didn’t enjoy it?” Millie echoed. “How do you think I felt? I thought I was hopeless, I thought you hated me!” Anger exploded in Millie’s stomach, drenching her in rage. “How could you do that to me? HOW COULD YOU?”
“Now, now,” said Bogdana, startled. “Don’t get so upset. It was all for your own good. And look where it’s gotten you! You’ve done several impossible things just in the last few weeks! Oh, I can hardly wait to tell Hepsibat.”
Millie jumped to her feet. “Stop that! I’m not some toy in a game. I’m your daughter! You bound the kitchen and kept me from using what I really love, cooking, to do my magic. Do you have any idea how awful that was? Trying and failing, over and over again? You had no right to do that!”
“I’m your mother,” Bogdana replied stiffly. “I have every right. And I’ve proved that.”
“You’re wrong,” Millie told her. “I nearly gave up. I was convinced I’d be nothing but a cook for the rest of my life, that I’d be banished to the Logical Realm.”
Bogdana flushed at that. “Oh, no, I would never have allowed that.”
“It would have been better than this!” Millie screamed. “At least there, no one would have thought I was weird or stupid for loving to cook. I’d have been normal, not some freak. That’s what you made me, Mother. A freak.”
Bogdana’s eyes flashed angrily. “I understand that you’re upset, but I am still your mother, and I demand that you respect me.”
“How can I?” Millie threw back at her. “How can I respect someone who lies to me, binds my power, and tells me I’m worthless when I’m not and never was? How can I ever trust you again?”
Bogdana drew herself up to her full, angular height, and stared down her nose at Millie. “You will respect me, Ludmilla. I am your mother.”
Millie clenched her fists. Then, with one sweep of her arm, she knocked all the food from the table onto the floor.
“I hate you,” she said. “I hate you, and I will never cook for you again.” Millie turned and ran up the stairs to her room.
Burnt Oatmeal
On Onesday morning, Millie woke to the scent of burning oatmeal. She dressed for school and came downstairs. To her utter surprise, she found the dining room table set with clean plates.
“Good morning, Ludmilla,” said Bogdana, her gown smudged with flour. “I made you some breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry,” Millie said. This was a blatant lie. Millie hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday’s breakfast, but she refused to admit it.
“Well, I am,” said Bodgana, seating herself with a bowl of burnt oatmeal, liberally doused with milk, and a cup of rather weak tea.
“What are you doing up so early?” Millie asked.
“Headmistress Pteria requested I come in to talk to her today,” Bogdana reminded her. “I’m looking forward to discussing your future course of study. I hate to admit it, but Baba Luci was right. School has been good for you.” She buttered a bit of toast salvaged from Millie’s bread.
“I’m going to make my lunch,” Millie said, marching into the kitchen.
“Take your time, dear,” Bogdana called after her. “I can fly us both there in no time at all.”
“I’ll walk,” Millie said through gritted teeth.
There was a fair bit of bread left. Millie made three or four jam sandwiches, wrapped them in wax paper, and put them in her lunch cauldron. She met Petunia at the kitchen gate. Petunia gave a long whistle when she saw her.
“You’re in that much trouble, huh?” Petunia asked.
“Nope. My mother’s in that much trouble.” As Millie set off grimly up the Path, she told Petunia about the binding on the kitchen.
“Slugs and bugs!” Petunia exclaimed. “That’s horrible! My mother would never do that to me. If she noticed I existed at all.”
“I just can’t believe she did that,” Millie said. “All these years, I was a perfectly fine witch, but she tried to convince me otherwise just because she doesn’t like kitchen magic!”
Bogdana flew up behind them on her broom. “Ludmilla, are you sure you won’t ride with me? I could even give your little friend a ride, if you like,” she said, offering a slightly disgusted smile to Petunia.
“Exercise is good for me,” Millie told her.
Bogdana looked sad but nodded. “I’ll see you at school, then,” she said, and she flew off.
“Wow,” Petunia said. “If I treated my mother like that, she’d give me a whipping.”
“I’m the only daughter she’s got,” Millie said grimly. “Lucky me.”
“Hmm. What do you call a witch’s quarrel?” P
etunia asked.
Millie shrugged.
“A rough spell!” Petunia giggled uncertainly, but when Millie didn’t join her, she stopped. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Millie said. “I really don’t know. I broke the binding on the kitchen, though I don’t think Mother noticed. So I can do all the kitchen magic I like now. But how do I know she won’t do something else? Something worse?”
“Don’t you have a Coven meeting coming up?” Petunia asked.
“Tomorrow night,” Millie said. “Why?”
“Well, you could ask your granny for help.”
“My granny? You mean Baba Luci?” Millie considered this. “That’s not a bad idea. It’s going to be a busy meeting, though. We’re trying Cretacia for attempting to kidnap Thea. I think that’s part of why Mother had to go to school this morning.”
“Lilies and ladybugs!” Petunia said. “What will happen to her?”
“Mother says the Coven will probably bind her magic for a while, so she can’t hurt anyone else,” Millie said. “I almost feel sorry for Cretacia.”
“Ha!” said Petunia. “She’s getting off easy. If she were a pixie, she’d be whipped and thrown in Bramble Jail.”
They arrived at school, where Grumpkin promptly tripped Millie, who fell on her face.
“Grumpkin, I am so not in the mood for this,” Millie began, but Grumpkin bent low to Millie’s ear.
“Chase me,” he muttered in a low voice. Then he took off running across the glade, yelling, “Can’t catch me!”
“What was that about?” Petunia said. “I thought he was helping you.”
Millie scratched her head. “I think he still is. Come on.” She picked herself up, and they ran after him. Grumpkin darted back and forth, weaving between the other students, until he led them to the far side of the glade and stopped beside a bunch of bushes.
“There you go,” Grumpkin said to the bushes, and he ran off.
A Witch’s Kitchen Page 14
