A Handful of Hexes

by Sarina Dorie

  She patted his shoulder. “Can I make you a plate of something to eat before you take them back?”

  Thatch sniffed at the air. “Do I smell … ham?”

  I had never realized he was such a pushover when it came to food. Then again, who wouldn’t be after being deprived of it at the school for as long as he had worked there?

  The students showed him their Christmas presents. Hailey went on and on about her broom. We filled the tin with more cookies, and my mom stuffed Ziploc bags with brownies.

  Thatch called Imani over, whispering something. Her eyes sparked with delight. She nodded and rushed off into the living room, linking arms with Hailey and Maddy. He’d definitely put them up to something.

  The girls were already done packing and tidying up the mess they’d made in the living room, but I double-checked the bathroom and my bedroom. The three girls sat on the couch, quietly writing on Hailey’s stationery.

  Imani covered what she was writing with her arms. “Miss Lawrence, no! You need to—uh—you’re going to ruin it!”

  I pretended I didn’t know they were writing thank-you notes to my mom and me.

  Hailey waved me away in a fluster. “Can’t you, um, go talk to Mr. Thatch or something?”

  I retrieved Thatch’s present from under the tree, uncertain about how he’d react. It wasn’t a store-bought gift. The hand-me-down had inherited its own collection of nicks and scratches before he had ever given it to me. My father had given the gift to me after Missy’s funeral, telling me how the sound had comforted him with its steady rhythm.

  I didn’t want to give Thatch his Christmas present now. I was afraid he’d get mad. He was always becoming indignant over something. If I gave it to him in front of the students, he might say it was unprofessional. It would be implying our relationship went beyond friendship. That meant I should give it to him while the girls were preoccupied.

  Like now.

  I waited in the doorway of the kitchen, gathering up my courage.

  Mom sat next to Thatch. She spoke quietly, which alerted me to the fact that she was being secretive. It reminded me of that one time she’d gone outside to talk to Derrick about magic without me because she hadn’t wanted me to know.

  She whispered, “Clarissa told me about yesterday. Thank you for protecting my baby.”

  OMG, could this be more embarrassing? Now was not the moment to give him a Christmas present.

  He didn’t look up from his plate of food. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s everything. More ham?”

  “No, thank you.” He dabbed at his mouth with a fabric napkin printed with red and green snowflakes. “I have been thinking about how a Fae was able to hone in on Clarissa so quickly yesterday. It may have been more than the lack of electricity and her use of magic. You have holes in your wards. Between the constant contact with electricity that has surely weakened your wards, and the times you’ve used magic inside, you’ve drawn the attention of the local Fae. I’ve taken the liberty of making a few repairs. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Oh, dear! I didn’t realize my wards had grown weak. I suppose my eyesight isn’t what it used to be.” She placed a hand on her heart. “I hope I haven’t done anything to endanger the girls.”

  “I’m certain it’s fine. They were small holes. A passing Fae may have seen sparks of Witchkin magic, but it wasn’t enough to tempt them to put in the effort of destroying your wards. If they had wanted you, they would have snatched you by this point. One detail you can count on with Fae is that they like an easy mark. You and Clarissa will be safe here. Though, it would help if she didn’t use magic in the Morty Realm, within your home or outside of it.” He glanced at me standing in the archway, giving me a pointed look.

  There was more to it than just that. I wouldn’t have used magic if someone hadn’t bewitched me. Now there were holes in the wards of my mom’s house. Was that a coincidence, or had someone weakened them? The cold of winter outside crept back into my bones when I thought about that elemental Fae hurting my mom. I could understand there were Witchkin out there who hated me, but I couldn’t stand the idea they would endanger my fairy godmother and students.

  I thought about Vega putting rocks in my bag. Enchanting me to use magic couldn’t have been her. She had never endangered others to teach me a lesson. Surely she couldn’t be that nasty and evil.

  “Miss Lawrence.” Hailey called me back into the living room. “How do you spell ‘gratitude’?”

  “Shush!” Maddy whispered. “You’re going to give the surprise away!”

  “I can spell. Why didn’t you just ask me?” Imani asked.

  “Because you’re a know-it-all.”

  I tried not to laugh. They were adorable. This was why I had become a teacher. I had wanted to build relationships with my students and make a difference in their lives. I was doing it!

  I spelled “gratitude,” and I returned to the kitchen.

  Thatch asked Mom, “How long ago did you make those wards?”

  They were still talking shop. I couldn’t wait for Mom to leave the room so I could give him his present.

  “When Clarissa and Missy were toddlers, I think. Over the years, their abilities grew, and I had to increase the strength and thickness.”

  Thatch glanced up at me and back to my mother. My heart quickened. I squeezed the small box, the edges biting into my palm. I just needed to wait for the right moment. It made it that much harder with my mom being in the room. I didn’t want her to witness his reaction if it was bad.

  “Mrs. Lawrence, you have constructed powerful and effective wards,” Thatch spoke slowly, enunciating each word with emphasis. “They’re much stronger spells than a simple hedge witch has the power to create. You do understand that if you don’t have Clarissa here when you attempt such spells, you might inadvertently drain yourself.”

  I understood what he was saying without saying it directly. My Red affinity had brought out her Amni Plandai powers, enabling her to construct those wards. Whether she understood that or not, I didn’t know.

  Mom stood up abruptly, shock clearly showing on her face. “I didn’t drain my daughter’s magic for those wards. I’m not like my foster mother.”

  Her foster mother had been the one to give her the scar on her arm, the cost of a magic spell that used pain as its fuel. Thatch knew Baba Nata, though I didn’t know how well.

  Thatch set down his fork. “I didn’t say you were.”

  “All those times while Clarissa was a teenager, I created spells to suppress her magic, not steal it.” She looked to me as if she wanted to convince me.

  “I know,” I said.

  “It isn’t about stealing. It’s about giving. Let me show you what I mean,” Thatch said. He gestured at the orchid on the table. Two bright pink flowers were in bloom. More buds higher up on the branch would probably open in the next few weeks. “You specialize in plants. Would you indulge me by making this bloom for us?”

  Mom drew the plant closer, hugging it to her chest. Her expression was soft, loving. She whispered to the buds as one might in a lover’s ear. I blushed at the intimacy of the gesture. One of the buds slowly opened and flowered. Mom’s cheeks were rosy. Her skin shimmered green and glittery. The air smelled like sunlight hitting herbs in the garden.

  Mom licked her lips. “I don’t usually use that much magic at once.” Her words came out in a breathy rush.

  Thatch steepled his fingers in front of himself, looking like his teacher self. “Do you think you have a good gauge of how much energy you used? Could you do that again?”

  She leaned back in her chair, fatigue tugging at her frame. “Not for a few hours at least. That was like running a marathon. Usually I go for slower speeds and longer endurance.”

  Thatch went over to the windowsill and removed one of the starts of the spiderworts in its glass jar. The purple-and-green leaves of Tradescantia zebrina had always reminded me of eyes. He set it on
the table.

  He looked to me imploringly. “Sit next to your fairy godmother and hold her hand.”

  He had told me not to tell my fairy godmother about my affinity. I feared revealing too much might put her in danger. But I trusted Thatch. He had a reason for this. I seated myself beside my mom, placing his present on my lap. Mom looked uneasy.

  “We’re ready for you to see what we made!” Hailey called from the living room.

  “Do it again, Mrs. Lawrence,” Thatch said. His eyes held the same intensity as they did when he was giving me a private magic lesson.

  “I can’t,” Mom said. “My magic doesn’t work that way. I’ll deplete myself. I haven’t been storing magic.”

  “Trust me. You won’t deplete yourself. Remember the time in the psychiatrist’s office when you protected Clarissa? Not all of that magic was stored.”

  Mom scooped the plant closer and whispered to it. When she’d used her plant magic in the psychiatrist’s office, it had turned into a jungle of vines. She hadn’t been able to control it.

  “Mrs. Lawrence!” Maddy called. “Come here.”

  “In a minute,” Thatch said.

  Green light flickered in the air around my fairy godmother. The scent of mint and thyme increased. The stem lengthened, and roots spurted where it was submerged in water. Leaves sprouted, and tiny magenta flowers opened. I’d never seen flowers on this plant. The three girls watched from the doorway in silence.

  Mom blinked, looking at the plant.

  “I didn’t steal from her,” Mom whispered, her voice hoarse.

  “No, you didn’t,” Thatch said. “Do you understand yet?” He spoke so low I could barely hear him, and I hoped the girls couldn’t either. “This is why you shouldn’t ever do magic outside of the house. Without Clarissa to increase the power of your wards, you will draw the Fae.”

  “Can we watch a movie?” Hailey asked.

  “No.” Thatch stood up. “We should be going. Gather up your things.”

  Mom sat at the table, hugging the plant, looking uncomfortable, the way I usually felt after one of my lessons with Thatch. I removed the plant from her hands and hugged her.

  Her chest convulsed, and her arms shook. I didn’t want her to cry. Leave it to Thatch to ruin someone’s Christmas.

  I drew back. “Mom? Are you okay?”

  She wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry. I was so mad at you yesterday when you told me you used magic in the Morty Realm, but you weren’t the one who drew the Fae. It was me, a little here and there over time. We are so fortunate to have Mr. Thatch as your mentor.” She patted my cheek. “He truly is a blessing.”

  “No, it wasn’t you,” I said. She hadn’t been the one to steal my will and cast a spell over me to make me do magic. I didn’t want her to feel like she’d done anything wrong, but I didn’t want her to know the truth and worry about me even more. Why did Thatch have to make her miserable?

  The girls dressed in their coats and scarves and held the spoils of their Christmas presents that wouldn’t fit in their knapsacks. Hailey carried out my mom’s broom from the living room.

  “About that broom… .” I said to Hailey.

  “Let her keep it. I have another,” Mom said.

  Mom didn’t meet Thatch’s eye as she handed him the Ziploc bags of brownies and the refilled tin. The girls handed her their thank-you notes, and ones to me as well.

  “I wish I could stay here all Christmas break,” Maddy whispered.

  “Let’s not wear out your welcome.” Thatch ushered them outside. “If you’re good, perhaps Mrs. Lawrence will invite you back next year for a day or two.”

  “Do you have a spring break?” Mom asked.

  The girls giggled excitedly and conspired with my mom. She smiled, but the spark of joy that had been in her eyes earlier was replaced by guilt. I understood why Thatch had shown her what my magic did. He had once stressed the importance of not telling her I was a Red, though I had suspected she might have known. I could see I was wrong. She didn’t understand how my magic worked, and he needed her to so she wouldn’t put me or herself in danger.

  I watched him tap his foot as the girls said their goodbyes. If he had just a little more patience, he could have gotten the same message across while sparing my mom’s feelings.

  He crossed his arms. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  I gestured over my shoulder at my mom.

  “I had to say something.” He lifted his chin.

  I nodded. “Can’t you just … do something nice for her?”

  “Being nice is your job.”

  I glared daggers at him.

  He sighed melodramatically. “This is going to cost you, Miss Lawrence.”

  Everything had a price.

  He stomped closer to Mom. “Thank you again for the food and your hospitality. I do apologize for any impositions I’ve made of you.” He cleared his throat and shuffled the packages of food around to free one arm. He gave her an awkward side hug.

  She smiled and hugged him back. “It wasn’t an imposition. Really.”

  “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to … hurt your feelings.” He stooped and kissed her forehead. “You’ve been far kinder to me than my own mother ever was, Alouette. Thank you.”

  My breath caught in my throat.

  It was awkward enough watching him fumble through being nice and trying to be sociable, but he’d just called my fairy godmother by my biological mother’s name. If my biological mother hadn’t been a wicked witch who had once tortured him, it might have been funny.

  Just when Mom had been starting to perk up, the joy faded from her eyes again and was replaced by mortification.

  “Abigail,” Mom corrected.

  “That’s what I said,” Thatch said.

  Hailey nudged Imani with her elbow. Maddy covered her open mouth with her hands. Imani shook her head at him, her eyes as wide as saucers.

  He looked from me to them, brow furrowed in confusion. “Abigail? Perhaps that’s too informal. Mrs. Lawrence, then.”

  Hailey cracked up. “That’s not what you—ow!”

  Imani smacked her in the arm.

  He was completely oblivious to the faux pas. Maybe that was for the best.

  Thatch nodded to me. “I’ll be back for you in two days. Try not to get yourself in too much trouble.”

  It was now or never. Everyone was watching. This was not how I envisioned presenting him with a gift on Christmas.

  I shoved it at him. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Oh,” he said. He stared at the box. The moment stretched into more awkwardness. Social ineptitude, it was the gift that kept on giving.

  “It’s a present,” I said.

  “I know.”

  He still didn’t reach out to take it. My face flushed with heat. “It’s not from me. It’s from Santa.”

  “Is it coal?” he asked.

  “No!”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I didn’t buy you anything. I don’t do that sort of thing,” he said. “It would be uncharacteristically nice.”

  “I know. I mean, I know you didn’t get anything for me. That’s fine.” I didn’t want him to think I thought he wasn’t nice. He had his moments. Occasional nice moments sandwiched in between crabby ones.

  He took the small box and stared at the red-and-green polka-dot wrapping paper. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with it.

  “Are you going to open it?” I asked.

  “Not now.” He fumbled to shove it into his jacket pocket, but the box was too big, and he was having trouble cramming it in. I’d always assumed his pockets were enchanted because of his notebook he squeezed in there, but perhaps it was the book that was enchanted to shrink. He tried again.

  His cheeks turned pink. I wasn’t used to seeing him blush.

  “Oh my God!” Hailey roared. “What is wrong with you? It’s Christmas. Do you think Mis
s Lawrence chopped off someone’s finger or something? For the freakin’ love of the baby Jesus, just open it.” She waved her hands around, heat building with her vehemence.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets. “If Professor Thatch doesn’t want to open it now, he doesn’t have to. It’s not a big deal.” It sooo was a big deal, but I wasn’t going to let it show.

  “It’s from me as well,” Mom said.

  His face grew redder. “Oh.” He stopped trying to cram it into his pocket.

  Apparently, my mom’s words made him feel obligated to open it. Wordlessly, he worked at the wrapper with one hand while the other held on to gifts of food. He pried a finger under the edge of the paper and carefully peeled the tape away.

  “Need help?” Maddy asked.

  “No.” He unwrapped the paper slowly and methodically and folded it into a little square afterward, as though he intended to save it.

  Everyone watched. I had hoped to spare him an audience. I had hoped to spare myself. He started to open the box, peeking in, and then turned away so no one else could see. He was so secretive. I tried not to laugh at him. It probably would have offended his pride if I had.

  “What is it?” Imani asked, jumping to try to see.

  “None of your business,” Thatch said.

  “Beeswax,” Mom said.

  “Is it anything bad?” Hailey asked. “I was only joking earlier about the chopped-off finger.”

  “Santa gave you coal, didn’t he?” Maddy teased.

  My mom tilted her head in a gesture of curiosity. Her brief encounters with Thatch hadn’t prepared her for his eccentricities. When he turned back, a chain was hooked on his vest pocket. He held up the pocket watch, inspecting the time.

  “We’re running late.” He tucked the watch into his pocket.

  “Where’s the present?” Hailey asked. She didn’t realize the watch was the present.

  Maddy stared, openmouthed. She was the only one besides myself and now my mom who knew he’d given up his pocket watch to speak with the King of the Pacific on her behalf.

  “It was my grandfather’s on my dad’s side,” I said. “I just thought, you sacrifice so much for students, I wanted to give you something that was important to me—”