by E. G. Foley
Sir Peter Quince came out and took charge once more, dividing all the magical children up into their groups to attend special sessions with an adult expert in their field.
Dani stood awkwardly beside Archie, watching Isabelle go off with the Empaths and Healers into one of the meeting rooms inside Merlin Hall, while Jake hooted with glee at being summoned to attend the Lightriders’ session.
The young Guardians, including Maddox St. Trinian, joined Derek and a fierce, muscular, female Guardian in the nearby field.
Henry and Helena led the shapeshifter children off for a chat, including the three horrid skunkies who had tortured her during yesterday’s Assessments. Dani saw the twins exchange a worried glance, experienced enough as teachers to realize they were in serious trouble with the three little horrors.
When even Her Ladyship, Jake’s Great-Great Aunt Ramona, had retreated into another meeting room to speak to the young witches and wizards, Dani let out a glum sigh.
She wished she had somewhere to go, some way to participate. She usually didn’t mind being an ordinary person, but at the moment, she just felt so inadequate, even unwanted. Must she be left out of everything?
“Ah, don’t look so glum, Dani, ol’ girl,” Archie drawled, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “You’ve still got me! C’mon, I’ll show you the library. It’s really something.”
“Very well,” she said with another heavy sigh. She loved books, but spending a brilliant, sunny May Day in a silent crypt of a library sounded all wrong.
Ah, well, it was better than being alone.
Of course, being around Archie when he was working out equations or doing research was just the same as being alone, anyway. On such occasions, he went off into his own mental world of deep thoughts and advanced mathematics, where only other geniuses could follow. All the same, it was kind of him to invite her.
Dani shuffled after him as he marched down the hallway. But just then, she heard someone call her name.
A lady’s prim voice echoed down the corridor. “Daniela Catherine O’Dell?”
Dani whipped around in surprise.
The lady was still searching the hallway. Is there a Miss O’Dell here somewhere, please? I say, where is Daniela Catherine?”
She shot her hand up into the air. “I’m here! That’s me! Archie, wait up!”
A lady in a long, slim, gray skirt was standing in the doorway of one of the meeting rooms with a clipboard in her hand and spectacles resting on her nose. “Miss O’Dell?”
She sprinted breathlessly to her. “Yes, ma’am! Can I help you? I’m Dani O’Dell!”
Archie followed, looking on in mild curiosity.
The lady tapped her clipboard with a pen. “I have your name down here, if you’d care to join us, dear.”
“Me? But…there must be some mistake. I have no powers,” Dani admitted with some embarrassment.
“No, of course, my dear. Neither do I,” the lady said with a wink. “I’m Sir Peter Quince’s wife, and my session is called Managing Magic Folk. It is exclusively for those of us ordinary souls charged with looking after our, er, unusual friends and loved ones. If you wish to participate, please don’t dally, Miss O’Dell. Her Majesty is waiting.”
Dani gasped. “Queen Victoria is in there? Oh! Oh, my goodness! Yes, of course. Thank you! Gotta go, Arch!”
“No worries, have fun!” he called.
Dani felt seven feet tall to find herself included—and in the Queen’s own group, no less! No doubt Queen Victoria, as the human ruler of the Order, had to deal with all sorts of questions regarding the many magical subjects in her Realm.
When Dani stepped into the stately chamber, she curtsied to the short, stout, black-clad Queen, then quickly took a seat on the end of the first row of chairs, feeling very important, indeed.
The lady with the clipboard walked to the front of the room and took off her spectacles, letting them hang by the slim chain around her neck. “Good morning, everybody. Your Majesty.” She curtsied to the Queen. “Welcome to Managing Magic-Folk. Being married to an Elder wizard, I have years of experience, as you may well imagine, in dealing with all sorts of magic folk and the, shall we say, interesting situations they tend to generate. I do hope that my insights can provide some guidance to others who may find themselves now and then, in a position to aid a gifted friend or family member with their unique struggles.
“Never forget that our ordinary human bonds with our magical loved ones are an absolutely vital part of keeping them on friendly terms with the mortal world, rather than turning against humanity and joining the dreaded You-Know-Who’s.
“I know we sometimes feel unimportant compared to the magical folk in our lives, but trust me, they need us. The worst fate that can befall any magical individual is to become alienated and alone, for then they become easy pickings for the dark side. In time, their talents could be used against our world and all that we hold dear.
“In short, even though we possess no powers of our own beyond our hearts and strength of character, there are times when our love and loyalty are all that stands between our magical friends choosing darkness over light. And that is no small responsibility.”
Dani pondered this in awe.
“So! Let us begin. Today we will discuss Common Problems in dealing with the magical, top Do’s and Don’ts, and any other questions you may have…”
With a great sense of duty, Dani picked up the pencil and paper provided and started taking notes on everything the lady said.
# # #
In the session for Empaths and Healers down the hallway, Isabelle sat at the end of the long table, paying no attention whatsoever. She was daydreaming, elbow propped on the desk, cheek resting in her hand, gazing out the window at the sunny fields where the Guardians had gathered.
They were too far away to tell who was who, but one of them was That Boy, so she kept watching, waiting, just in case she caught a glimpse…
She stifled a sudden yawn, her eyes watering with fatigue. Lud, between going to bed late after the Floralia and rising before dawn to collect the Beltane dew, she was dog-tired. It didn’t help that crazed nervous energy had coursed through her veins from the first moment she had laid eyes on Maddox St. Trinian, but thankfully, it had started to run out.
Still, she could not stop thinking about him, not for one minute; it was utterly annoying. Especially since Dani had reported that he said he “had no time” for young ladies. Typical Guardian!
Well, be that way, then, Isabelle thought with a slight sulk. The way he had looked at her when he had seen her in her beautiful, first-ever ball gown had made her hope he might be interested in her, too.
Obviously not.
Instead of coming to the ball so they might talk and get to know each other, the mysterious young warrior had gone out to a blacksmith’s forge, of all things, to weld something or whatever. Honestly, a girl could be insulted! Was he that indifferent to the lure of dancing that he’d rather be alone and make a knife?
For possibly the first time in her fifteen years, Isabelle found herself pouting a bit.
But then, she considered, maybe he had wanted to go to the ball. Maybe he just didn’t own a tuxedo. Maybe he was poor…
She sighed again, still completely bewildered as to why she could not read him with her powers. Not one bit. It was like he was a blank.
It was a tad alarming, actually. As an empath, she had never experienced this sort of block from someone before, but there had to be an explanation.
Most likely, she had not been standing close enough to him to sense his feelings, she reasoned. Or maybe it was because she got so flustered around him that she couldn’t even think, just stood there tongue-tied and blushing like a cake-head.
Maybe there was something wrong with her—or was something wrong with him? Why was this young warrior so very cool-nerved, anyway? He seemed to be so expertly in control of his emotions that his energy was calm, calm, calm, in a way that she, as an empath, had rarel
y encountered, especially not in anyone so young. He was different.
She was so used to being overwhelmed by the surging storms of other people’s emotions around her, backing away from all the noise and chaos they generated simply to protect herself. She did not know what to make of the deep, soothing quiet around this boy, whether it meant something good or something bad. That he was a blank alarmed her almost as much as his handsome face and dark, soulful eyes drew her in. She had to get to the bottom of it.
But on the other hand…no.
If he was not interested in her, she might as well forget about Maddox St. Trinian now. Feeling this way was awful, anyhow, all tied up in knots over somebody who barely even knew she existed.
Besides, if he was poor and lowborn, her parents would likely never approve. She would make her debut in Society next Season, and probably be married off to some loudmouth duke in his twenties who owned a large chunk of England.
Ugh.
Ah, well. She had been raised from birth knowing that a good girl of her station, a good daughter, married whom her father said—and Isabelle, if nothing else, had always been very good.
Besides, Guardians were not supposed to get caught up in romantic entanglements, anyway. Affairs of the heart were the sort of distraction that could get the Order’s warriors killed.
She sighed again, feeling rather like a tragic heroine—until she remembered Jake teasing her about that very thing. Then she frowned wryly and wondered how the birthday rascal was faring in the Lightrider group.
# # #
Meanwhile, in the next room, Nixie sat in the group for young Witches and Wizards, hanging on their session leader’s every word.
The Elder witch, Ramona, Dowager Baroness Bradford, was a legend with a whiff of tragedy in her past that Nixie could well relate to, though she did not know the details.
Nobody did. It was one of the best-kept secrets of the Order, though everyone had heard the whispers about how she no longer quite trusted magic.
It comforted Nixie to know that even a great witch like Lady Bradford could make a mistake in using her powers. It made her own blunder seem less awful. Like maybe there was hope, if only she could learn the right spell—something, anything, to rid herself of the Bugganes.
She dared not ask the Elder witch for help outright, of course, but if anyone could give her a clue about how to banish those dreadful apparitions and all their torment, it was the wise old witch.
“And so,” Lady Bradford continued, “we must always consider the danger of unintended consequences when using magic and take steps to protect ourselves when working any spell. Can any of you tell me what the strongest protection that we have at our disposal is?”
Eager to impress her, the more confident kids raised their hands and shouted out answers.
“Oh, I know! Salt!”
“Holy water!”
“No and no,” she answered.
“Sage? Lavender?”
“I know! Primrose oil!”
“Hardly,” said the Elder. “Miss Valentine? You look very thoughtful. Care to share your guess?”
Nixie hesitated. The others all turned around to look at her, eyeing her with various degrees of jealousy.
Yes, she was well aware she’d shown them up terribly with her Assessment yesterday. There were adult magic-workers who couldn’t do such things.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Very well. I will tell you, children. The success of any magic lies in the purity of your intentions,” she said in a grave tone. “There is little you can do to protect yourself if you are using your powers for selfish purposes. Eventually, that ulterior motive will catch up with you and there will be a price to pay. Sometimes a dreadful price. But if your intention is pure, mainly for the good of others, then you’ll find there is protection automatically built in. Your reasons for using magic in any given situation matter just as much as how efficaciously you perform the spell.”
Now Nixie raised her hand. “But, Your Ladyship,” she asked, “what if your reasons are mixed? Some pure, some selfish?”
“Then your results will be mixed, too. Good mixed with bad, benefit with danger, blessing with curse.”
They pondered this for a long moment, then the bell rang, ending their session.
The kids started filing out, but Lady Bradford called to Nixie. “Miss Valentine, would you stay behind, please? I should like a moment of your time.”
“Yes, Your Ladyship.” Nixie automatically wondered if she was in trouble—if, somehow, the Elder witch had looked into a crystal ball or something and found out what had happened in Scotland. She swallowed hard as she walked up to the front of the room, where Lady Bradford still sat at the writing desk.
A few of the other kids sneered at Nixie for being singled out. Two stuck their tongues out at her as they left, no doubt hoping she was in the suds.
When the room had emptied, the Elder witch turned to her with a fond gaze and searched her eyes. “I saw your Assessment yesterday, Miss Valentine, and I must say, you are doing work far beyond your years. You do know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I practice all day, every day, p-pretty much.”
“And who is your teacher?”
“Um, I am mainly self-taught, my lady,” she said in embarrassment. “I inherited my grandmother’s grimoire a couple of years ago. That’s how I got started. More recently, I received some training from the gypsies who took me in when I had to leave my home. Madam Zordova is especially strong in fortunetelling.”
“I see. May I ask why you had to leave your home?”
Nixie lowered her gaze. “My stepfather hates magic. He’s an ordinary mortal. My mother never really took to it, either, you see. It was more my grandmother’s art. Mother was always embarrassed about it. So, she never told him about the gift that runs in her side of the family.
“Then the Kinderveil lifted off me when I was only nine, and she told me to hide it. I tried the best I could, but for a while, I couldn’t control it at all. Odd things, magical things, kept happening around me whether I wanted them to or not, until finally, my stepfather got fed up with all my mishaps and said I must be cursed.”
“Oh, dear,” Lady Bradford murmured.
“I finally made Mother explain to him about our magical bloodlines, and that only made him fly into a rage. He said he wouldn’t have married her if he had known, and I got so cross at him for making her cry that I sort of accidentally made a ladder fall on him.
“He almost walked out on her entirely, but Mama pleaded with him to stay. He said he would, but only on one condition: no magic. He said he wouldn’t have it in the house, so Mama made me promise. Honestly, I tried! But I-I can’t help it. It just comes out of me. I couldn’t hide it forever! It’s who I am!”
“Believe me, I understand,” she said softly. “Go on.”
“I decided to convince my stepfather it was safe. That I could use my abilities to make their lives easier. They both work so hard, so I made some servitors to do Mama’s chores around the house for her and help him in his shop. I was only trying to help. But when he saw them, he flew into a rage again and called me devil’s spawn.”
“Ah,” Lady Bradford said with a faint wince. “That is most unfair. Take comfort in knowing that countless great witches before you have been called the same thing—and worse. So, then he threw you out?”
“No, he sent for the priest to do an exorcism on me. As soon as they left me alone, I packed my things and ran away.”
“Poor child. You were fortunate to be taken in by these gypsies you mentioned. I am surprised they knew to bring you here.”
“Well…no,” Nixie conceded. “They kicked me out, too, about a month ago. I brought too much attention to their caravan. I really can’t blame them. They have enough problems as it is, you know, traveling around all the time, getting kicked off of other people’s fields. When a farmer or a town is kind enough to let them camp out for a few weeks, the last
thing they needed was me ruining everything with my, er, magical experiments.”
Actually, it was the creatures haunting her that had ruined everything, plaguing the gypsies with their poltergeist activity, but at this point, it seemed like semantics.
Right then, Nixie was sorely tempted to tell Lady Bradford about the Bugganes, but she didn’t dare. No doubt it would only lead to greater torment.
The Elder witch frowned, studying her. “Well, if you can’t return to the gypsies, where will you go when the Gathering is over?”
“Um…” Nixie turned red with shame and dropped her gaze. “I haven’t quite figured that out yet—oh, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m like a cat, ma’am. Always land on my feet.”
Lady Bradford harrumphed. “This will not do. It will not do at all!”
Nixie looked up as Lady Bradford rose. “Sorry?”
“Something must be done with you, Miss Valentine! A young witch of your talent cannot be left to her own devices. Not if I have anything to say about it. T’isn’t safe! Come.”
Nixie backed away a little. “Ma’am?”
“We must get you sorted with some training and a stable home environment. To be sure, you’ve made astounding progress on your own, but you will never achieve your full potential without the proper guidance. It would be folly to leave you out there unprotected. We can’t have the Dark Druids claiming you, now, can we?”
“No, ma’am,” she answered with a gulp.
“Leave this to me,” the Elder witch ordered. “Trust me, dear Nixella. We will fix your situation and get you the training you so richly deserve.”
“But, my lady, I have no means of paying for it—”
“Pish, not a word. Follow me.”
Nixie’s heart pounded as Lady Bradford marched out of the room into the crowded hallway, where the other classes were also letting out. Jostled every which way by the throng of people milling around in the corridor, Nixie hurried to keep up.
